#yeah i’m projecting my listening experiences onto buck what of it

[fruitydiaz-archived]

thinking about that time someone asked oliver if buck liked taylor swift and he said he liked folklore and evermore. and how folklore came out early in quarantine and how buck and chim and hen and eddie were probably all at buck’s when the album came out. thinking about buck subjecting them all to soooo many replays of the album late at night while he cried over a glass of wine

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

-

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

-

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

-

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

-

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

-

The Match Special Tags:

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Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​​ @jessou893​​ @stealapizzamyheart​​ @bagelofthelord​​ @mxnt​​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​​ @ohladymacbeth​​ @wildflowergubler​​ @supraveng​​ @twinerd14​​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​​ @charminivy​​ @amelia-song-pond​​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​​ @tcc-gizmachine​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @prettyintopeerpressure​​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

In Session

This one is a doozy. Warnings: m/f sex, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation, cum eating, use of mutant abilities in a sexual situation. 18+ please!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The three of you have been home for a couple of weeks now and, unfortunately for poor Bucky, the pixie dust has worn off. All Steve has to do is breathe near you and you go off. He has apologized and apologized but you refuse to let it go. Steve tries to be patient with you. He accepts that what he said gutted you. He is trying to make it up to you but you rebuke all of his attempts.

Quite frankly the whole thing gives Bucky anxiety. As soon as he hears “You know what, Steve?” He reaches for the antacids. In two weeks he was leaving for a semi long trip with Sam and Nat. He needed to set you on the path to healing before he left you two alone. That’s why he hijacked you both and brought you to his therapist.

Dr. Coleman is far more gentle than his VA therapist. She specializes in PTSD and has worked with many first responders and members of law enforcement. She also helps couples to reacclimate following traumatic experiences. Bucky thought that, with the amount of trauma the three of you had suffered, she would be perfect to help.

Neither of you were pleased to be there. The doctor spoke ok Bucky’s behalf at the start of the session. “Steve, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. This is an important first step on the path to healing. You are here for each other as much as you are here for yourselves. What we know is the three of you love each other very much. I would like you to keep that in the front of your minds as we go through this journey. I do have a few ground rules. First, we will not raise our voices or become physical here or at home. Second, we will not resort to name calling. Third, we will not shut down when confronted. We will speak on our feelings. Can I gain your agreement on those rules?” You all nodded. “Wonderful. I just need the two of you to sign some consent forms and we’ll be on our way.”

You hated therapists of any kind. You never had a good experience. Grant it, your only experiences were forty something years ago. You were sure there were advances. Still, you were wary of this woman. She does seem to help Bucky. If this is what he needed, you’d do it for him. When she asked Steve to speak first you nearly gagged.

“Steve, tell me why you think we’re all here today.”

He sighed loudly and spoke in a monotone voice like he was in trouble in the principal’s office. “We’re here because our bickering is upsetting Buck.”

“Ok. Can you tell me why you and Y/N have been bickering so much lately?”

“Because he’s impossible to live with.” You said not so under your breath. Steve was quick to react but Dr. Coleman stopped him.

“Y/N, you will have your turn to speak. Please give Steve the courtesy of having his time uninterrupted.” Steve smirked at you. You wanted to reach over and slap him in his smug face but Bucky rested his hand over yours.

“We’re bickering because I said a horrible thing to Y/N and she refuses to forgive me.”

“Right. And what did you say?” Fuck it was like pulling teeth.

“I told her in the heat of an argument that I didn’t want a whore for a wife. But I said I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry. She refuses to move on.”

Dr. Coleman listened to both of your sides and gave you some short term and long term goals. She asked you to open the door for better communication. She understood why you were so upset, especially since his admission was premeditated. She tasked Steve with finding a way to come to terms with what you do. Now that he knows why he feels the way he does, it is time to confront those feelings as his own and stop projecting them onto you. She also suggested that, while Bucky was gone, the two of you should do couple things. Your love was not linked exclusively through Bucky.

The three of you left feeling a little lighter. You made promises to each other and you intended to keep them. The couple of weeks leading up to Bucky’s trip were fine. There was something hanging in the air that made Bucky nervous. Like you two were just waiting for him to leave so you could unload on each other. Steve promised he wouldn’t make faces when you left for your appointments. You promised not to snap at him over every little thing. He didn’t believe either of you.

The night before he left, Steve fell asleep on the couch. You were already in bed half asleep yourself. It was rare when you had alone time. When they were in deep Avengers mode, you cherished your privacy. Maybe it was time to start thinking of getting a bigger place.

Bucky came out of the shower still warm and a little damp. He smelled like cedar and fresh rain. He dropped his towel and slipped under the covers. Compared to him your skin felt cool when you pressed your bare ass against him. “You’re so warm, daddy.”

“I needed that hot shower after the training session Steve and I had. I wore him out.”

“Mmmm. I bet you did. Did you fuck in the gym again?”

His laugh rumbled against your back. “Not this time. Should I go wake him?”

“No. We haven’t had a moment alone since he moved in. This is gonna sound disgusting but I kind of like it when you’re sweet with me.” You didn’t have to say anymore. He slid his hands under your arms to palm your breasts and pressed gentle kisses along your neck and spine. With his knee he parted your legs so he could stroke your warmth. You whined in his mouth when he ran your slick over your clit. He took his time pumping his fingers inside of you coaxing tiny whimpers and moans out of your body. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

You had never called him Jamie during sex until you told him you loved him. His name falling from your lips became his favorite sound. You invoked him like you were invoking God praying for peace. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed his cock bringing you both to your end. “I love you, Jamie.”

“Oh my…I love you too, baby. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He stayed inside of you keeping his spend deep inside of your channel and fell asleep. Sam would be there early.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your calendar was pretty full the first week Bucky was gone. Most of your appointments were during the day. Steve was back and forth between the apartment and compound. You settled into a pleasant routine like a normal couple with typical careers and predictable schedules. You even got through a meeting when a realtor without a single clenched jaw.

“Do you have time for lunch?” He was so hopeful. You promised Bucky.

“Yeah. I think so.” He took your hand and held it all the way to a cute little spot down the street. “I like this neighborhood. Not far from the subway. Walkable.”

“I like it too. I’ve seen a ton of kids out and about.” That made you want to cringe but you held it in. None of you have had the cliche conversation about your futures. Since you were the only one who could bear children, you figured you should speak up.

“Do you want kids?” You kept your eyes on your salad.

“Yeah. I really do. Have you um, been checked out? Can you have children?” God this was awkward.

“I can. I wonder if Hydra has successfully bred a serum baby. Like, it altered our DNA. I wonder what would happen.” His brow furrowed. He really hadn’t thought about that.

“I will have to look into it. That’s something we need to know I guess. Why do we feel so weird around each other?”

“Right?!” You were so glad he felt it too.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” He asked so quiet and quickly that you almost didn’t hear.

“Before I answer that question can I ask a question?” He nodded. “Why are you ok with me having your babies but not being your wife? I know in therapy you said it scared you and you didn’t care for my clients. I get all of that. Those are valid things. I can’t help but think you don’t like the optics.” That was the million dollar question. Could Captain America be out as polyamorous? You felt like Steve might be a closet Republican. Most of the republicans that were your clients were the biggest freaks.

“There’s nothing our media team can’t spin. I’m not embarrassed by you and Buck. My reasons for disliking your job are exactly what I said. I feel like being out about our relationship puts a target on your back.”

“But that’s not what you said, Steve. You said ‘I don’t want a whore for a wife’. That implies something completely different. I like what I do. Those rich assholes and politicians put money in my purse. A lot of my clients are like us. Freaks of nature. They can’t have normal relationships. I help them. I don’t judge their abilities or physical mutations. We just fuck and they feel normal for a while. Like the guy I’m seeing tonight. He just wants to feel normal.”

Steve was quiet for the rest of lunch. You gave him a lot to think about. He had no idea you saw yourself as a freak of nature or that you saw him that way. Everyone celebrated what Steve was but essentially threw you away. The people on your client list who he saw as villains have been tossed out by the society he swore to protect. He guessed he jumped the shark a bit by even bringing up marriage. Not like you were there yet.

You and Bucky seemed to have a don’t ask don’t tell policy regarding your situation. That was not Steve. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew without a doubt that you were safe. Tonight he will follow you. If he ever wanted to move passed his own feelings, he had to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight you were seeing Erik Lensherr which meant you had to be prepared for anything. He never beat you like other idiots did. He wasn’t stupid. Why hit you when it doesn’t hurt? He liked to really bring you to the brink of pain with pleasure. Sometimes he edged you for hours. He loved when you were a drooling sobbing mess begging for relief. That’s what turned him on. After sessions with him, you always took the following day off.

You and Steve had dinner together. You were both much more relaxed. He sat in the bathroom while you got ready. You picked a dress and made sure to have lots of mascara on. Mascara tears were Erik’s favorite. While you put on your jewelry, he stood behind you and kissed your shoulders. You missed his touch. You leaned in and let him put his hands on you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” he said against the back of your neck.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? We can stay in bed all day.”

He smiled that beautiful sunshine smile at you that made your insides liquid. “Really? Does that mean you forgive me?”

You giggled, “No. It means I want to get reacquainted. Forgiveness is not so easy for me. Maybe if you ever put a ring on it, I’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll take it. Will you be out late?” He kissed his way down your neck.

“I’m not really sure. If I know I won’t be coming home I’ll text you. I wouldn’t wait up.” You allowed him to really kiss you. My lord Steve Rogers is an amazing kisser. He is confident and strong in his movements. He kisses with his whole body. Hands roam your back and and shoulders while he presses your body into his. His eyes barely close, making his lashes flutter on the tops of his cheeks. And he softly moans which drives you crazy. Well, at least Erik won’t have to warm you up.

“I love you. Be safe. Call me if absolutely anything is off. Promise.”

“Yes, sir. I love you, too.”

He gave you a thirty second head start before he followed you on his bike. You met Erik at a beautiful brownstone. He held the door for you and kissed both of your cheeks. Steve saw him pour you a drink and direct you to the sofa by the small of your back. You looked comfortable enough. It was clear the two of you were friends. Then, he sat next to you. His movements became predatory. He always kept his hands on you.

Soon he was taking your drink and leading you up the stairs. It was the moment of truth. He could walk away satisfied that you were safe or climb the fire escape to watch. The thought of seeing you in flagrante was turning him on way more than he should have been. Option B it was.

He climbed to the second story where he sat stock still in a darkened corner. The window was cracked a bit so he could hear everything.

The two of you kissed passionately. Erik’s hands found your zipper and made quick work of shedding your dress. He pushed you to the bed which was decorated by an ornate metal head and footboard. He raised his hand and part of the bed broke off bending around your wrists to bind you.

“Too tight, Princess?”

“No, sir.” Next he attached a spreader bar to your ankles springing your legs open wide. “Color?”

“Green.” Your voice was steady but your breath was heaving in your chest. Steve wondered if it was nerves or excitement.

Erik knelt beside you and stroked your face. “How many times shall I make my Princess cum tonight hmm? Shall we try for six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He produced a string of metal balls from his pocket and popped them one by one into your mouth. His lips were on yours again. His tongue moved the balls around your mouth clacking them on your teeth. When he was satisfied with their saturation he pried your mouth open with his thumb and removed them. He parted your folds and sunk the balls into your dripping hole one by one. His fingers danced swirling the orbs inside of your cunt. Your back arched off the bed. “Does that feel good, Princess?”

“Yes , sir. So good.”

“Excellent. Princess, I want you to count out loud each time you come. I will edge you for one hour if I don’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, sir.” The coil in your belly was building. Erik smiled down on your writhing body. You tried to bring your thighs together but the bar was made of steel. Unless you focused you couldn’t break it.

“Look at you. I bet if I touched you even a little you would cum.” He ran his index finger lightly over your clit and you fell apart.

“One! Oh my…one.” You moaned and that beautiful sound went right to Steve’s cock. He stroked himself outside of his pants at first. He wanted to last as long as you. It would be difficult.

“Good girl. That’s my good, Princess. Doing so well.”

He kept the balls swirling while he licked a stripe up your cunt. His lips closed over your clit. Your hips bucked wildly against his face. You threw your head back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! Two!”

He pressed the pads of his fingers over your clit and rubbed furiously. “Three” you whimpered.

He smacked your pussy hard. “Didn’t hear you, love.”

“Three, sir.”

“You getting tired on me? You have three more. Color, darling.”

“Green, sir.”

“Oooh. She’s being a warrior tonight. Give me one more in my mouth and I’ll take two on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to licking your snatch. You were sonsensitive. His big hands held you still while he licked and nibbled. Steve leaned on the railing panting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unsheathed his throbbing member and wrapped it tight in his fist.

You got to four and tears started streaking your face. Erik pulled out the balls and tossed them aside. You mewled at the emptiness in your pussy. Erik undressed. When his cock was free he ran the leaking tip around the hole pushing in ever so slightly. The stretch made you cry out.

“So wet for me. You’re leaking and I haven’t even pushed all the way in. Do you want more?” You nodded so he pulled away. “Use your words or you won’t get to cum.”

“More please, sir. I need it.” He slammed into you letting his pelvis hit your clit hard.

“Was that five, my darling?”

“N…no, sir. M’so close.”

“Give it to me.” His hips pumped faster and faster. You screamed and nearly arched yourself in half.

“Fiiiiive. Yellow, sir.”

“Oh you feel so good around my cock. One more and then I’ll paint your belly and tits.”

Steve pumped his fist in time with Erik’s hips. When you came the sixth time, so did he. Hot ropes of cum dribbled onto his hand. He kept stroking while Erik finished.

“Think you can go for seven? It would make me so proud.” You were much too sensitive.

“Red! Red red red.” Erik pulled out immediately and jerked himself all over your belly and breasts. Out of breath he fell over onto the bed next to you. You looked wrecked. With a wave of his hand your wrists were free. He undid the spreader and kissed you deeply.

“Water, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” He brought you a glass and held it to your lips. He tossed you your dress. You didn’t clean yourself up. That was part of the scene. You went home still sticky with his cum. Steve was feral at the thought of licking another man’s seed off of you. He made it down and onto his bike before you got to the door.

You took your payment and kissed Erik goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve made it into the house moments before you. He changed his clothes and acted like he had been home all night. His heart thumped loud in his ears when he heard your keys in the door.

“Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early.” You patted him on the head as you limped into the bathroom.

“Need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” The thought of cumming again nearly made you cry.

“Yes, but only to shower.” He jumped up and followed you. You shook out your hair and went to unzip your dress but his hands were there already.

“You look so pretty right now. All fucked out. You were such a good girl tonight.” Every nerve in your body prickled. He kissed down your neck and the top of your spine.

“Steve, did you follow me?” Your voice was low. Your expression unreadable.

“Are you mad? I just wanted peace of mind. I got a lot more than that. I’m not saying I’ll be ok every time. But, if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking about licking that cum off of you.” Your whole body went warm. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips as you edged down your dress.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet boy?”

“Mmm. Very much.”

“Did you make yourself cum watching us?”

“I did.” He ground his hard cock into your ass cheek.

“I’m so sticky. Clean me up before we shower.” He knelt in front of you and licked all of the dried cum off of your belly. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“I need to be inside of you so bad. Please can I fuck you?”

“Please fuck me, Steve.”’ He brought you into the shower and soaped you up. After the two of you were clean he kissed you fiercely. He lifted your hips and drove into you. “I can’t wait until Jamie gets home so I can tie you to the chair while he fucks my brains out. Wanna watch Jamie fuck me, sweet boy?” He moaned loudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna watch him pound this pretty pussy.” It wasn’t long before you both lost it.

You got into bed and stretched out on his chest. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea I would like that.”

You giggled, “We learn something new about ourselves every day.” You both completely passed out.

The next morning Bucky got home early. He was shocked that Steve wasn’t already up. He found the two of you sleeping soundly. He nearly cried at how content you were. Steve opened his eyes and pressed his finger to his lips. Bucky got undressed and crawled in behind you. He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and laid an arm across your back. He and Steve laced their fingers together.

“Did you make up?” He whispered.

“Something like that. It’s a long story.” You stirred a little.

“Jamie?”

“I’m home, baby doll. Go back to sleep.” He kissed you again and pulled the covers over you.

“K. Steve’s a kinky freak.” You buried your face into Steve to shield you from the sun streaming in from the curtains.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled. Steve kept his eyes closed. “What the fuck happened?”

“Get some sleep. I promise we’ll show you later.” He kissed the back of Bucky’s hand and fell back to sleep. Bucky forced himself to close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen but he couldn’t wait to find out.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

KILL4ME

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader (and kind of x female!OC but that’s not the main focus of anything) 

Summary: You're a new actress trying to get your start. You end up getting your first role cast in a music video for Marilyn Manson’s “KILL4ME” music video but it turns out to be much more than you expected. 

Warnings: SMUT (male x female, female x female) 

A/N: 1) I made the reader straight with no prior female x female experiences. I don’t know why if I’m being honest but that’s how it is so please don’t come at me for it. 2) This is NOT how the film industry should work. If you’re trying to get into the industry, please stay safe, be responsible, and recognize red flags. Typically, randomly popping up pornographic requests is NOT professional or safe. This is just a fantasy I had while watching the music video and was written this way strictly for entertainment purposes. 

Word Count: 5696

__________________________

This project requires nudity and sexual scenes. If you are not comfortable, do not apply. 

The warning had been clear as day and yet, here you were, sitting in your car at the old mansion that was the filming site, nerves going off the charts and feeling less than comfortable with the imminent nudity and sexual scenes. You were an actor, you reminded yourself. This was the only job you’d landed since arriving in Los Angeles and, despite your promises to yourself and your family that you wouldn’t resort to full nudity for a project, there were bills that needed paying and your waitressing job wasn’t cutting it. 

Besides, shouldn’t you be thrilled? This wasn’t just any music video you’d landed a role in but a music video for Marilyn Manson! He was a goth rock legend and you couldn’t hide your excitement when you’d found out who you’d been booked to work for.

But still, the nudity and sexuality made you uneasy. There hadn’t been a script or anything. Your only instructions were to come looking your best and with an open, ready to work mindset. So here you were, physically feeling like a million bucks but butterflies going crazy within. 

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, you opened the door to your barely working 2008 Honda Civic, feeling even more self-conscious when you saw the other cars that were parked outside of the massive mansion were all beautiful and sleek, most of them black and very expensive looking. 

Crew members stirred around outside, entering and exiting the house with lights and props and sound equipment, everything needed for the production. You walked through the large black door that led into the beautiful white mansion, opening into an equally fantastic interior. You audibly gasped, “This is beautiful…” 

“Y/N?” A woman’s voice questioned from beside you and you spun quickly to face her, snapping out of your amazed daze. 

“Yes.” You answered hastily. 

She checked the clipboard in her hand, “Great, you’re right on time. Come right this way, we’re gonna get you into hair and makeup.” You were about to reply when she’d taken off down the hall without giving you a moment to speak so you followed, avoiding the moving equipment around you. 

Before you knew it, you’d been whisked away into a small room that was full of makeup, hair styling tools, and costumes. Nobody told you what they were doing as they pulled your hair straight and did up your makeup, surprisingly simpler than you’d expected with just light eyeshadow and moderate eyeliner. 

“Alrighty, now I’m gonna have you undress and put on that robe over there.” The man in charge of costumes directed. 

Your brows furrowed, “How undressed?” 

“All the way, sweetie. No panties, no bra. It’s all gotta go.” He must have seen the uneasy look on your face because he gave you an unsympathetic shrug, “You signed up for a nude project, hun. Welcome to Hollywood.” 

**

“Y/N is here. I believe that’s it, Mr. Manson.” The same woman as earlier announced as you entered the room you were supposed to be briefed in. It took everything in your power to remain professional when you saw Marilyn Manson standing there, talking casually with another girl who you assumed to be a co-star.

Like you, his makeup was already done up and he was in full costume. His face was painted pale white with a black loop drawn across one half and his other half blank except for the unnaturally blue contact and dark panda-like eyeliner.  His lips were stained bright red and you almost felt like you were looking at a picture of him online. 

“Thank you, Yolanda.” None other than The Marilyn Manson (and yes, “The” was now an official part of his name in your mind) thanked the woman who you assumed to be an assistant. “Come on in, Y/N.” He beckoned you into the room and you tried to front your most professional, most confident face but the way you held your robe tight to your body gave you away. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Manson.” You came up, reaching to shake his hand, “It’s a real honor to get to work with you.” Kiss ass, you muttered to yourself. 

Instead of shaking your hand, he simply waved his hand in the air, “Ah, the pleasantries. I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you as well.” 

You retracted your extended hand awkwardly, unsure of whether or not that was a blow off or him just being mysterious and cool, and scuttled to stand with the other girl. She was beautiful and blonde, tall and thin. Model-esque. You felt insecure next to her, especially in front of someone as influential as Manson. You were just you, an inexperienced actress-to-be, on her first professional job with a bunch of people who definitely knew their way around a camera. 

“Alright, so I know you came here with minimal details,” Marilyn began, a weirdly neutral look on his very painted face, his tone flat and low. It was hard to read him with his contacts in. “Hopefully, that’s a good sign this will work well. You’re both willing to take risks. You’re flexible. Well, I’m here to give you the details. As you know, there is nudity and sex required for this video. It will be between you two,” You stiffened up awkwardly as he gestured all too casually between the two of you, “And my old friend here.” 

On cue, none other than Johnny Depp walked into the room. Your jaw visibly hit the floor. There is no fucking way. “Hello.” He greeted with a smile, the same smile that you’d seen millions of times in his movies that you’d binged every so often. 

Were you the only one feeling so shocked? Why the hell was the actress next to you so calm? Why was Johnny so calm? You were about pretend to fuck Johnny fucking Depp! 

Johnny stepped forward to shake your hand, “I’m Johnny, nice to meet you,” He introduced politely. 

Starstruck, you took his hand, “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you as well.” Then he leaned down and kissed your hand, actually kissed your hand like a fucking gentleman, eyes never leaving yours. God, the way he looked up at you through his strands of middle parted 90’s hair… it was enough to make your breath catch. 

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he moved from you to the girl next to you, “I’m Marie.” She responded to his introduction politely. He brought her hand to his lips as well but, maybe you were crazy - just imagining some fantasy, but it felt detached and fast when he did it to her. 

“Great, well now that we all know each other,” Marilyn interjected as Johnny moved back to stand by his friend, “I’ll continue. I’ve already shot my parts so I’ll be here to direct you if needed but I want this as natural as possible. Aside from a few artistic shots, I need this to be raw, primal, and absolutely fucking filthy.” 

You and Marie listened on in intent silence, soaking in his every word. But you found it hard to focus when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny eyeing you. No, no, it couldn’t be. He was probably just zoned out behind you. 

*** 

A few hours later, all of the artistic shots had been done. There were shots of you pulling up thigh high stockings that clipped onto the garter belts hanging from your nearly sheer black underwear and having a leather corset tightened tightly on your back, cinching your waist smaller than you’d ever seen it. You had put on massively high heels and large, luxurious costume jewelry. 

Even though the outfit could be seen as objectifying, you’d never felt more confident or powerful in your life. After your last shot of just your nearly bare thighs, you were dismissed momentarily so Marie could film her sections. 

You walked over to your bag and took out a water bottle, not realizing how much this took out of you, running the same seemingly simple shots over and over again under blaring lights. “How long have you been acting?” 

Oh God. It was him. 

You turned to see Johnny standing next to you, very close, much closer than was considered polite distance but not so close that you felt suffocated. He looked gorgeous, hair hanging perfect from his beautiful tan skin. Earrings hung from his lobes, dangling just slightly. His white button up shirt was only buttoned half way, showing off his smooth, toned chest that barely showed any signs of his older age (not that he was ancient but he was definitely on your list of celebrities over 45 that you would let rail you). But the cherry on top was the eyeliner. The fucking eyeliner. It took you back to so many of his characters that you’d fallen in love with but with the white shirt and earrings, you were getting almost a refined Jack Sparrow crossed with Sweeney Todd feeling and God you’d never been so turned on by a pirate/ serial killer. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you blinked rapidly, totally horrified that you’d been staring. 

“Oh! Sorry! Um, this is my first real shoot, actually. You know how Hollywood is…” You chuckled awkwardly, reaching your hand around to rub your neck. Of course, he knew how Hollywood was, stupid! You cursed yourself, hoping you didn’t sound as dumb as you felt. 

He leaned a hand up against the wall, “Yeah, I know how that is. But don’t worry, this is a great place to start.” He reassured, looking away at the set oh so casually. Your eyes trailed up his arm that had planted itself just beside you on the wall. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing? 

No! He was Johnny Depp. He could have whichever woman he wanted at the bat of an eyelash. Why would he want you? 

“Y/N! We’re ready for your scene with Marie!” The director called to you from behind the camera and you perked up. 

“I better go.” You nodded over to the set, walking away awkwardly, almost scared that you be perceived as rude for having to do your job. 

He chuckled and waved you on. This made you blush bright red and turn to run off to set. 

You found yourself directed to a bed, “All right,” The director began, Marilyn standing directly next to him, hand on his chin as he watched his vision be brought to life, “Now, first, we’re going to get shots of you making out. I need it hot, I need it passionate. I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl before, make it look like you have. Next, we’re going to do totally nude shots of you grinding.” 

Your eyelids fluttered slightly in shock at what he said. Okay, you could do that, you hyped yourself up. 

Before you knew it, you were lying on the bed, Marie on top of you. Her soft lips were against yours and her nails raked gently down your throat, sending shocks down your body. Even though you were acting, it was hard to separate the feelings that arose, regardless of your sexuality. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you like this. Your hands tangled in her hair and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Cut!” The director yelled and Marie immediately pulled back, snapping out of character and back into her over-professional attitude. You, on the other hand, needed a brief moment to pull out of character. After just a second, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, Marie still straddling you. Your breasts filled the tight push up bra you wore but you felt surprisingly comfortable in it, even around all these people. That was, until you glanced over to see Johnny standing beside Marilyn, at first looking at a monitor and reviewing footage, but then over at you, his gaze stuck on your accentuated chest. 

Your face flushed red as you quickly looked away, not seeing the amused smirk that graced his face. Little did you know, he was very aware of what he was doing and very pleased with your reaction.  

“That was perfect. Now we’re gonna move onto the sex scenes.” He waved you and Marie over and you obeyed once she climbed off your torso.

Marilyn and Johnny too came over, completing the small group. Marilyn spoke, “Now you knew there was sex and nudity and I’m very pleased with how this is turning out,” He paused, giving you both a very serious look, “But now, I’m going to ask something of you that you probably aren’t comfortable with. Usually with sex scenes, there’s fabric in place to hide cocks and shit but I don’t want any of that. It distracts actors from the scene and there’s always the issue of whether or not you see it. I want raw, I want primal, I want absolutely fucking filthy.” 

He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you and Marie to piece together his request, but filling in the rest when he saw both of your professional exteriors crack in confusion, “I want you to all actually fuck. Only if you’re comfortable with it but if you’re not you’ll be paid for the work you’ve done and we’ll find someone to replace you.” 

You nearly choked, “Like… porn? You want this to be porn?” Johnny chuckled to himself, seeing your embarrassed, nervous reaction. You were so cute. 

He looked pensive for just a moment  before nodding, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He answered bluntly, “Like I said, only if you’re comfortable with it but, if not, you’ll be fired for the rest of the video.” 

Oh God, were you really about to agree to porn? Like actual fucking porn? Three way porn at that! But three porn with Johnny Depp…. It was the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do. But then again, your rent was due in two weeks and you were $300 short. “I’m in.” You answered, almost regretting it immediately. 

“Me too.” Marie agreed, long arms crossed across her chest. 

“Good. Now let’s get to it.” 

** 

The lesbian sex scene had gone by relatively hitch free, save for a few awkward placement issues. Marie, being straight as an arrow, had no clue what she was doing, and you too were inexperienced in the department but with a little direction, the scene was finished. 

She knelt on her knees, holding your naked hips up and grinding your bare core against her own. Your eyes were closed, trying to remember every previous sexual encounter and porno you’d seen to try and make the sexiest faces and the sexiest form.

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off you as you writhed on the bed, completely naked and grinding up against another beautiful woman. Everything about you looked so authentic but innocent but dirty. He found himself craving you in the most unprofessional ways as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your hips. 

When the scene was over, you nearly jumped off the bed and rushed for your robe. You were embarrassingly wet right now, the eye contact you’d made with Johnny while having your clit rubbed was just absolutely intoxicating and you were just thankful that you were able to control yourself enough to not get your juices all over Marie. 

As they changed the scene around, you stood beside Johnny and Marilyn. “Method actor?” He asked. 

You cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” 

“You looked pretty into the scene up there. Wonder what you were thinking about…” He continued. Your heart was in your throat. His tone was dark and sultry and implied exactly what he thought you were thinking about and boy was he correct. “As a method actor myself, I completely understand your… position.” 

Johnny looked down at you, his dark eyes unyielding as he dove into your very soul and could see you every fantasy. 

“Okay! Everyone on set!” 

** 

Ignore the cameras, you screamed at yourself. You’re not doing porn, you’re just having a threesome with Johnny Depp and some girl named Marie. Yeah, that was a convincing story to tell yourself. Just relax in this totally normal situation. Pfft, as if. 

But you were an actress. Then something occurred to you, the ghost of a voice spoke to you. It was actually words spoken by Johnny in an old interview you’d seen him do, words that had stuck with you as a foundation in your training: “The most important thing that an actor needs to do is not to act, but to react. That's what it is all about, and you do one of the most difficult things in the world, which is to just be--to be in the state of being.”

Just relax. React to the scene. Be in the scene. Hell, this wasn’t even a scene anymore. This was a secret fantasy you’d never known you’d had coming to life. There wasn’t even any acting involved. So just be. 

“Action!” 

Immediately in character, you caressed Marie sexually, hands running along her sides as you nipped along her neck. Now that you were the dominant character, her scantily clad body was putty in your hands. Your teeth raked along her skin and you felt her shudder beneath your touch, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. 

Then a quiet metallic sound drew your attention. You and Marie both looked over towards the ornate door to see Johnny standing there, looking in through the gold grated peephole. 

Marie looked at you, her eyes full of question. Should you let him in? Honestly, you weren’t sure if your characters knew who he was. No! Stop, you’re not playing a character now. You’re you. You are the character. 

You chewed your lip seductively and walked over, legs crossing and hips rocking as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor. You reached down, perfectly manicured fingers gripping the handle delicately and unlocked the door. Before he could even get ahold of his surroundings, you had him by the collar and pulled him in. He could play all the sexy flirty games he wanted, but right now, you were in control and you were going to make him want you more than anything, even if it all was just for the camera. 

His hands found your hips immediately as he attempted to steady himself but, gosh, all he wanted to do was take you here and now, preferably without Marie or the cameras, but he figured that if that’s what it took to fuck you, he was more than willing to compromise. 

You pulled him in, your lips finally crashing against his. At first, he was hesitant but only for half a second, before he returned the kiss with even more fervor than you’d gone in with. Marie came up on his side and nibbled his ear, hands roaming up and down his chest between your very close bodies. 

Johnny pulled back from this kiss and twisted just enough to snake an arm around Marie’s thin body and led her to face you. Then his hands came to firmly hold the back of each of your necks and forced your faces together, pressing you and the other woman to kiss. You both complied obediently, a strange mix of submissively and dominantly, like you were submitting to him but then fighting between the two of you. 

Her lips moved graciously against yours, smooth and soft. It was so much more different than kissing a man. This felt delicate still despite the absolute filth that was ensuing. Her hand shot out to hold you by the jaw and pulled you in roughly, Johnny’s hand almost not needing to do anything. 

He watched in amazement as the two of you obeyed his every physical command, the way you both looked so lost in each other. He knew you were straight just by interacting with you earlier but you could have had him fooled now. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in threeway with two other girls but this was definitely the hottest one. Before, it was all just to see if he could pull it off and then just to have the novelty of having girls bend to his will but this was different. You were different. He couldn't really explain it but he was completely enamored by you. An air of innocence surrounded you from the moment he set eyes on your otherworldly beauty but the saw in your eyes a fire that burned with the ability to be more than that. He was determined to see just how hot that fire burned. 

He pulled you and Marie apart before bringing her to kiss him. While he did, his free hand absentmindedly groped your chest, your breasts spilling from the top of your push up bra. A twinge of jealousy went through you as you watched them kiss, although you knew how irrational it was. They were actors. You were too. There was nothing personal about this. But, for some unexplainable, unprofessional reason, there was for you. 

You slinked behind the older man like a cat and ran your fingertips ever so gently across his closed shoulders and down his biceps. They trailed down his sides as his body moved from the intense makeout session with Marie before coming around to tease over his growing bulge. In his black well fitting pants. 

His body tensed ever so slightly, barely noticeable except to you two, when your hand made contact with his erection. You smirked to yourself, a dark, sexy smile, the kind of smile you’d expect to see in a twisted Tim Burton film. You were finally the mysterious gothic beauty you’d always imagined yourself as in all of his stories. 

With swift fingerwork and a quick, almost too skilled, flick of your wrist, you had Johnny’s belt whipped off him and held firmly in your hands. He pulled Marie off of him and shoved her roughly onto the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you walked in circles around him, trailing your gaze up and down his perfect body and dragging the leather of his belt on his torso and thighs as you did so. 

The way you looked at him, like a lioness about to devour her prey, made Johnny feel like he was on fire. You seemed so in control and confident and you had a way of touching him, as if you knew exactly what made him tick. It was intoxicating. 

His shirt was unbuttoned in a matter of seconds and without warning, he had you pressed back against the mattress as well. He crawled over your body, rolling his hips just right against your clothed core. A small, quiet whisper of a moan escaped your lips at the sudden, well placed contact. 

Your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you, forcing his head into your neck. He kissed and sucked and nipped and licked just right, like he had a map to your body. You were embarrassingly wet from just kissing and you secretly prayed that nobody noticed but you were too lost in the moment to do anything about it. 

Your leg wrapped around his waist and pulled him into you again. “Fuck…” His voice was a raspy, low whisper, said just loud enough for you three to hear. 

Johnny kissed down your neck and across your breasts, moving over to Marie’s chest, which he dove into with full force. She squirmed and moaned beside you as he assaulted her perfect breasts. You rolled over as far as you could and caught her lips in yours, swallowing her moans. 

That was, until Johnny’s hand trailed down to rub your core. You gasped into Marie’s full lips and rolled your hips into his hand, begging for more. Suddenly, he sat back onto his heels and grabbed your hips roughly, flipping you over onto all fours like he’d done it a million times before. “Ah!” You squealed slightly at the sudden action. 

He climbed off the bed and knelt just behind you, palms rubbing over your ass and admiring every inch of you. Marie adjusted to sit just in front of you, legs spread to reveal her bare vagina before you. You weren’t sure when she’d lost her underwear but low and behold here you were face to face with all she had to bear. You’d never eaten a girl out before but you’d seen enough porn and fooled around with yourself enough to know what might work as a good start. 

Cautiously, you started a few kitten licks to her clit, noticing every flinch or shudder that left her lips. Just as you began to get the hang of it, there was a loud rip as you felt the fabric of your panties be literally torn from your body. You gasped loudly, looking back behind you to see Johnny with his tongue between his teeth, admiring your body. 

Johnny ran his surprisingly soft hands up and down your ass before dragging his fingertips through your already dripping folds. You moaned against Marie’s clit, her hands pulling on your hair, as his fingers circled your clit. You pressed your hips back against him, begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige. 

Before you knew it, the three of you were a tangle of limbs. At all times, you were being touched by someone, whether it was groping your chest, your ass, or your pussy, but it was always a game trying to figure out who it was. The heat was becoming unbearable and you were grateful for the lack of clothing. Your body was slicked in sweat, both yours and Johnny’s mostly. 

He’d taken a clear preference to you and you almost felt bad for Marie but you didn’t feel too bad, seeing as how your lifelong fantasies were coming true. When someone was touching you, it was almost always Johnny, although he didn’t let his bias completely ruin the shot. He was a professional after all. 

Soon, after at least ten minutes of blind fingering and hand jobs, you found yourself straddling Johnny as he lied naked on the bed. This was it, the moment you actually had sex with Johnny Depp. He held his large erection in one hand, guiding it to your entrance and then moved his hands to grip your hips tightly, lowering you down onto this length. 

“Oh my… fuck-” You hissed out, throwing your head back as you adjusted to him. You’d never felt so full before, so complete. Without even moving, he made you feel absolutely incredible. 

He chuckled sexily below you, loving your reaction. This whole scene had been a game with you, fighting for who was seducing who, who was in charge, but here he was finally proving it was him. 

You steadied yourself on his chest, soft hands splayed out against his surprisingly taught, tattooed skin. To look at him like this, you never would have guessed how much older he was than you. He could pass for a very handsome man in his thirties easily. 

You swiveled your hips experimentally and clenched your walls around his cock. Johnny sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips dug harshly into your skin, sure to leave little bruises in their place. You looked down and locked eye contact with him through your long eyelashes, your hair disheveled and hanging in your face sexily, as you squeezed your muscles around him yet again and moved your hips. 

“Fucking hell.” He groaned out beautifully, short nails digging crescents into your skin. His grip moved to cup your ass cheeks from below, grabbing them firmly and moving you up and down until you found a pace that worked for both of you. 

Marie lied on the bed beside Johnny, one leg strewn across his chest and the other behind your bouncing body, as she toyed with her clit with one hand and fingered herself with the other. 

You reached down to play with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between your soft fingertips but the action was half hearted at best. All you could focus on was how Johnny felt inside you, hitting all the right spots. How you had him at your will just as much as you were at his. His hair was strewn around his face on the pillows like a damn god, his eyeliner smeared every so slightly from the sweat. His eyes screwed shut every now and then but otherwise, he looked at you like no other man had ever looked at you before. 

He reached between your bodies and found your clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles. Your walls began to clench uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm nearing. Your back arched as you leaned back, moving your hands to rest on his thighs as you rose and fell on his length. Marie leaned down, attaching her lips to your perked nipples and biting one gently, licking over the skin to soothe it before doing it again. 

Johnny reached down to finger her roughly as she ravaged your breasts. You continued to bounce, the new angle hitting that perfect spot inside you. “I’m gonna-” Marie whined out, her voice high and seductive. 

You nodded quickly, eyes screwed shut, “Me too!” You exclaimed, trying with all your might to stave off your orgasm for as long as possible but the pleasure was just building up too much. 

“Cum for me.” Johnny demanded from both of you and that was all it took for you to crash over the edge. Hot flashes stroke across your body in electric waves as your body failed to keep moving. He continued to lift your body for you, helping you ride out your high but his fingers dug tightly into your skin when your walls spasmed uncontrollably around him. 

“Fuck!” Marie whined out, her legs shaking against Johnny’s body as she came. 

You reluctantly rolled off Johnny’s body when you felt him lift you off and rested off to the side, breathing heavily while you recovered. He got up onto his knees next to you and stroked himself quickly, aggressively, using your slick to glide his hand across his erection, before painting Marie’s body in white ribbons. 

“And cut!” The director’s voice yelled out, harshly returning you from your daydream. Your eyes suddenly snapped as wide as a deer caught in headlights as the studio lights flicked on around you and the crew was visible again. The reality of everything came crashing down on you. Shit, that wasn’t some secret fantasy in your head. That was a pornographic threesome with Johnny Depp and some woman named Marie! 

You glanced over to the more experienced actress and breathed out a sigh of relief to see her looking the same way you did, completely shocked and a little disappointed at what you’d agreed to, but too pleased and amazed at what you’d just done to care too much before. 

Johnny, on the other hand, looked like he was already recovering with a cool exterior. He’d already begun climbing off the bed to get his clothes back on, leaving you and Marie alone on the bed to register what had happened. 

“Fuck me, that was hot.” Marilyn stepped onto the set, completely comfortable and practically ignoring the fact that he’d just watched his best friend fuck two women. You blushed a bright red. Great, you forgot that Marilyn Manson now would have the image of you fucking in his memories for forever. Not exactly the impression you typically went for in Hollywood… Or was it? 

The director watched over the footage, “They looked like they were enjoying themselves a little too much.” He snorted, pointing out something on the screen to Marilyn and you just prayed that it wasn’t a funny face you made in the heat of the moment. 

Marilyn waved him off, “No such thing as too much fun with sex, Paul.”  

Even though the crew were all doing their various jobs, you were convinced that every eye was on you. WIth a beet red face, you slinked out of the bed, hands covering your breasts and keeping your thighs as close together as you could, trying to shield your nudity from the room. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your body, it was just the feeling of being so exposed to a room full of strangers that made the blood rush to your face. 

You rushed around, trying to pick up whatever small scrap of clothing you could identify as yours. On the ground, beside the bed, was a crumpled heap of thin stringy black fabric. Your underwear! “Thank God!” You murmured to yourself, bending down to pick it up, only to have it fall in two, rendered unwearable. 

Your face dropped when you saw it and sighed, starting to become more comfortable in your naked skin but more so because you had no other choice at the moment. Could you even request clothing from the crew? Where did your actual clothes end up? Why did you even think that was a ridiculous request to want your clothes back? 

Just as you dropped the shredded underwear, ready to find a crew member and get your clothes back, you heard Johnny chuckle, low and sexy behind you, “You’re a great method actor,” He complimented with a wink and slight smirk, knowing damn well what he meant, the nonchalance of his entire being making you dumbfounded, “Perhaps, we could do this again under less professional circumstances.” 

And with the invitation, said in the most casual way - as if inviting you for coffee, he pushed the last button through the loop of his pristine white button up, and walked to find his best friend, leaving you standing on set, naked, clutching the underwear he’d literally ripped from your body just minutes earlier, eyes on his majestic figure and trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. 

[buckyandberries]

eavesdropping

Summary: the girls (y/n, nat, wanda and pepper) are having a little girl meeting/chitchat and the guys don’t like it... so they decide to eavesdrop

Pairing: Verymuchinlove!Bucky x Verymuchinlove!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of sex? (wrap it before you tap it), probably swearing, gossip? idk bro RATED 12 

Word Count: 909 

A/N: I’m meant to be doing revision for Weimar Germany or something in History but no this is more important

sorry for the hiatus and thanks for the support :D we’re going back to school on March 8th, so I’m doing all the work I didn’t do during the lessons LMAO send help

please don’t copy my work, but feel free to reblog :)

//

“Wait, what’s happening?“ Bucky said to the guys as he found them huddled around staring at a screen.

“Every other Friday, the girls have a little ‘girls meeting’ where they basically talk shit about us,“ Tony said projecting the live footage of Y/N and Bucky’s room onto the big plasma TV.

“But they decided to just stay in because it’s cold, so finally we can hear what they’re saying!“ Sam said excitedly as Steve rolled his eyes.

“Guys, they have this ‘girl time’ because they’re always surrounded by us, and it’s their only time to not have us snooping and now-- it’s just-- back me up, Buck!“ Steve exclaimed as everyone else ignored him.

“So that’s why I’m not allowed in my own room, I see,“ he said, remembering the event prior where Nat shoved him out of his own room as Y/N gave him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, they’re really serious about these meetings, it’s the only time they can complain about us,“ Clint said as Bucky furrowed his brows.

“Then why are we eavesdropping--“ he paused as he heard Wanda say his name. “Wait, turn it up! They said my name!“ he pushed Sam out of the way as Steve moved to the side, making Sam fall onto the floor.

“Hey, man! What the fuc--“

“SHHHHHH!“

“What do mean, ‘what about you and Bucky’,“ Y/N’s voice rang through the room as all the girls on the screen turned to look at her.

“What’s he like? I mean obviously, we know him, but he’s really quiet, and I can’t imagine what he’d be like in a relationship,“ Pepper said as all the guys turned to look at Bucky.

“Well,“

//

“Well,“ Y/N started. “What do you want to know?“

“What’s he like in bed?“

“Uh--“

“Is he really romantic and passionate? Or like rough? I bet he’s really good, and he probably has a lot of experience right?“ Nat asked like she didn’t know from their short-lived history. (damn I didn't mean to gun at my girl Nat like that, I just thought I'd mention it)

“Um--“

“Is he hung--“

“I don’t really feel comfortable talking about our sex life, it’s not really the type of couple we are,“ she said, not knowing that Bucky had just taken the largest sigh of relief.

“Wait, you haven’t had sex??“

“No! We have, it’s just, we’re really private, and I don’t think he’d want me to share this stuff,“ even though she didn’t know he was listening, she was 1000% right.

“Ok, that’s fine, how about-- what do you do together?“

“Well, we’re pretty simple and chill people, we’re usually always tangled up together somewhere, whether it’s on the couch or in bed, I think we just enjoy being around each other, regardless if we’re doing anything or not,“

“Awww,“ the girls said, as the guys started making fun of Bucky, other than Steve, who also aw-ed.

“That’s so sweet. Actually, now that I think of it, you don’t really show much affection towards each other around us,“

“Yeah, we try not to, because we want to stay professional, and we don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, but we’re really cuddly when we’re alone,“

“Honestly, if you hadn’t told me you were dating, I wouldn’t have caught on,“ Pepper said as Wanda agreed.

“What do you love about him?“

“Uh-- I can’t really choose just one thing. I don’t know, I mean-- we’ve been together for what, a year? and every time I see him I get all giddy and nervous, and he always makes me blush by doing the smallest thing,“ she continued, as the girls listened in awe. “He just makes me feel like the most important thing at all times, and even though we don’t show it, he’s always making me feel special and-- I just love him,“

//

“I just love him,“ both rooms were silent as the guys stared at the screen. All of them, even though a few wouldn’t admit it, had gotten emotional. At that moment, Bucky felt like it was just him and her.

“I can’t-- I’m gonna fucking cry,“ Sam said, rapidly grabbing the tissue box.

“Have you told her you love her yet?“ Steve asked Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I’ve been too scared to,“

“Well what the fuck are you doing standing here then?“ Steve said as everyone looked at him weirdly. “Go!”

At that, Bucky abruptly power-walked to their room. Once he got there, he burst into the room, ignoring the screams for him to leave, and dragged Y/N out of the room, taking them down the hall.

"Um, hi," she said wiping a stray tear. "What are you doing?"

"I love you,"

"I-- uh-- what?!" she said, confused at the weird timing. "I-- how did you--"

"We were eavesdropping on your girls talk and--"

"YOU WHAT?!"

"No, but that doesn't matter, because I was too scared to tell you, but I feel the exact same way," he said pulling her closer to him. "Y/N, I love you,"

"Well, obviously I love you too," she said as they both smiled. "So, uh-- how much did you hear?"

"All of it,"

"Oh- that's fine, I guess?"

"It totally isn't!" Steve said as they turned around to see everyone watching them.

"Get outta here!" Bucky said as they scrambled to leave.

"I love you, Bucky,"

"I love you too, Y/N," he said as their lips locked, fitting perfectly with one another.

//

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

No, It's Definitely Funny

Prompt: Can I request a second part to "Let's Call It Funny" where Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Peter unite forces to confuse and concern all the other avengers (with at least one instance where two or all of them respond to something by pretending to jump off a building?) Love you! -Auggie

Does it count as being back on my bullshit if I never left?

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for gen z humor

Pairings: it's still found family hours

Word Count: 2259

Peter’s gonna be honest, he may or may not have some competition for the funniest person in the Tower right now.

Because let’s look at the list here:

Traumatized? Everybody and their private jet’s worth of vintage and designer baggage needs therapy.

Queer? If you think Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or Sam Wilson is straight, you need to tell them everything they’ve ever done to make you think they’re straight so they can stop doing it immediately.

Superhero? Yeah, okay, shush, now you’re being stupid.

Neurodivergent? Have you seen the way these men behave? Definitely the model of Perfectly Normal Person™, what on earth are you talking about, absolutely 100% Normal™.

The only things he’s still got going for him that the others don’t are high-schooler and trans. That’s not a lot when it comes to the fact that hey, two of them are from the Great Depression—let’s be honest, they’re the OGs when it comes to fatalistic humor—and they’ve all got years of practice.

Sure, Peter’s got some trauma-given raw talent, but it’s not refined by years and years of throwing yourself off of buildings and out of planes to avoid having conversations about your emotions.

The day Aunt Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files on the Internet and Peter found out that Steve yeeted himself out of a plane—without a parachute!—to avoid Nat’s prodding about getting a date was the best day of his fucking life.

“Don’t you go stealing my moves there, kid,” Steve had scolded playfully, winking over the rim of his mug.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“And this is why,” Tony had sighed, looking every bit his 79 years—“Hey!”—as he watches this interaction go down, “you have a parachute built into your suit.”

“I’ll just wear my old one, don’t worry about it.”

“That heinous thing that’s just a cut-up old hoodie and goggles? Peter, no, that thing is being held together with safety pins and hope!”

“I mean, me too, so it’s fine.”

“Peter!”

“Also, like, it’s the one I almost got crushed to death in, so it’s got the emotional trauma seasoning already.”

“Wait—“ Bucky had sat up— “you almost got crushed to death by a building? Sheesh, kid, you’re really flirting with the reaper, huh.”

“It wasn’t so bad, I had training from the years and years of carrying the weight of my sins crawling on my back.”

“At least ask Death for his number next time, he’s not returning my calls.”

“Sergeant, I swear to God—“

“Actually, Death uses they/them pronouns, I asked when I met them last weekend.”

“What the fuck did you do last weekend?”

“Really? Oh cool, well, can you get their number for me? We had a date back in ’45 that they missed.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Tony, why are you screaming? Not keeping dates is a very serious matter.”

“Trust me, I speak from experience, Tony, it’s not a good habit to get into.”

“You should respect your elders and not scream while we’re talking to you, mister.”

“All of you shut the fuck up.”

See? On one hand, it’s great to have more partners in this venture of making Tony’s hair turn grey—he’s that age, it’s bound to happen any time soon now— “One more crack about my age, kid, I swear.” — but on the other hand, Peter is seriously losing his massive lead on funniest person in the Tower.

The other thing he’s worried about is Sam’s ability to make it so the others can’t actually worry about him.

Because—listen, Sam Wilson is a fucking national treasure and all you fuckers better acknowledge that. It’s no secret that the Captains take turns going out with the shield, all of them answer to ‘Captain America’ because that’s what they are, but no one—and Peter will never say this under threat of death because he does not need any more of the Steve Rogers’ Puppy Dog Eyes™, thank you very much—no one does it better than Sam.

And that means that Sam fucking Wilson can turn a fatalistic, self-deprecating joke into a motivational speech that doesn’t feel disingenuous or cliché at all and everyone is too busy processing the philosophical revelations they’re having to scold him for his, frankly, outstanding sense of humor.

It’s not fair and Peter can’t do it.

He tried. Once.

Didn’t go very well.

No, he’s not gonna talk about it, let’s just move on.

Sam has offered to catch him a couple of times when he gets himself a little too deep into the Mamma Spider™ or Iron Dad™ trap of feeeelings, and he gratefully scoots out of the way when Sam sits down next to him and just makes another joke.

Sam is also a fantastic role model for the brand of ‘I’m going to the store and only have twenty bucks, stop asking for your will to live back’ jokes.

“Hey, Pete!”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go, bodega run.”

“Can we pick up some hopes and dreams, too, all of those got scribbled out in fat red Sharpie yesterday.”

“I said bodega run, not Court of Miracles run.”

“But Sam~”

“Listen, kid, if you manage to find your hopes and dreams in this bodega, keep an eye out for your childhood innocence, that might be on the next shelf over.”

“Deal.”

“Do you two need some more therapy appointments?”

“Only got fifteen bucks, man.”

“I’m literally a billionaire!”

Peter eagerly studies under this pinnacle of humor and keeps his worries to himself.

Because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and Peter’s sense of humor is wonderful, but he is a tad intimidated by the amount of variety the others have got going for them.

“You’re a fucking terror, Spider-ling, that’s what you are.”

“Not true! I was ‘a pleasure to have in class.’”

“Oh, is that why you’re taking ‘Little Shit’ lessons from Barnes and Rogers?”

“And Sam! Don’t forget Captain Wilson, he is an invaluable part of this team. I’m surprised at your ignorance.”

“Pete—no, that’s not—“

“I’m ashamed for you, Mr. Stark.”

“Listen here you little shit—“

Anyway…

Steve and Bucky have a habit of telling these like, really awful jokes that have Peter in stitches for half an hour. It’s not fair and he doesn’t get why they’re so funny because they aren’t, and yet here he is, laughing anyway.

It’s probably some combination of Steve’s perfected innocent face that he wears when he has to do interviews and Bucky’s habit of not giving a single solitary fuck. But they’re able to make the worst jokes with completely serious expressions and it’s not fair.

“Hey, can you guys come help me with something?”

“Sure, Peter,” Steve says instantly, bounding over with his 95-year-old Golden Retriever energy as Bucky trails behind him like a cat that’s sitting in your lap because he wants to, not because he likes you or anything, “what’s up?”

“I have a history project on WWII due tomorrow and I haven’t started it yet.”

Bucky snorts, taking a swig of coffee and sitting down on the floor. Which, same. “You got your eulogy planned?”

“Drafted, sighed, notarized, but Aunt May said no so I gotta do this.”

“Well, if Aunt May says no then I guess that’s that.”

Tony, from far away in another part of the Tower, has a sickening feeling that May Parker has once again proven that she is the most powerful parent and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I, um,” Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his pen, “I want to be respectful of your boundaries, and if you don’t want to talk about anything then—“

Because it’s one thing for someone to make jokes about their trauma and another for someone else to go poking and prodding at it.

“Hey,” Steve interrupts softly, nudging him with his knee, “first off, thank you for saying that and we appreciate your respect, but we got you. You worry about enough, sweetheart, let us take care of ourselves.”

Peter gives him a look.

“When it comes to this,” Steve amends, having the decency to look a little sheepish, “we’ll take care of ourselves.”

Bucky scoffs. “Uh-huh.”

“We will, Buck.”

“My therapist will be real happy to hear that.” He looks up at Peter and winks. “Besides, what good is our trauma if we don’t pin it up and display it for good grades?”

Peter huffs, the joke undercut a little by the way Bucky knocks his foot against Peter’s and Steve’s arm stretches over the couch behind him.

Peter has to resist the urge to lean his head onto Steve’s shoulder, because then Steve’s hand will come up and ruffle his hair and Peter’s eyes will droop slowly closed as he loses himself in the warmth and safety of Steve’s embrace and then Steve will lean down to press a kiss to his temple and—

Right. Homework.

“What’s it on specifically,” Bucky asks, clearly spotting the temptation on Peter’s end, “home front? Overseas? Time period?”

“Uh, it’s an analysis of total war.”

“Like, how much of the country was devoted to the war effort?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s talking about how the Nazi War Machine made their war total and how that extends to a lot of other countries, but also about the reasons why the war was fought—“

They delve into a conversation about total war, Peter pointing out how Italy’s motivation for territory keeps it from being a total war on their part, Bucky speaking to how the different dynamics worked in various countries and the fallout, Steve bringing up how much of the home front was devoted to bringing attention to the war being fought overseas. Then, of course, as is inevitable, they devolve into storytelling.

Peter’s notebook—with notes! He did his job!—is set aside as he gives in to the need to let Steve cuddle him on the couch. Come on, the man is warm and big and gives good hugs, how is he supposed to not? Bucky sprawls out on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he smiles fondly.

“You know,” he remarks casually, “I fought a Nazi in my pajamas once.”

Peter blinks sleepily. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, though how he got in my pajamas, I have no idea.”

Peter snorts. Then he giggles. Then he’s collapsing into Steve’s side, positively sobbing with laughter.

It’s not funny.

It’s really not that funny.

But here he is, fucking dying, and he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to welcome the sweet embrace of oblivion.

“Okay, note to self,” Bucky murmurs when he’s calmed down a little, wiping away tears, “sleepy spider likes corny jokes.”

“Just don’t break our baby spider, Buck, Momma Spider would kill you in cold blood.”

“Listen, if Natasha Romanoff kills me, don’t prosecute. That’s on me.”

Peter can’t do corny jokes. He really can’t. He just sounds like he’s a recording so old it’s unintelligible and it’s bad. He has a reputation to maintain here!

However, there is one sense of humor that Peter is very eager to learn and adopt, and hey, it might actually be Iron Dad™ Approved!

It’s a rookie mistake, asking Bucky Barnes for a hand, but in his defense, Peter was left unsupervised and was distracted.

“Hey, Bucky, can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

Something nudges his arm and he looks down. It’s Bucky’s metal arm, bumping up against his elbow.

It’s a cheap joke. It’s bad. It does not deserve Peter’s laughter.

He snorts anyway.

“That’s on me,” he says after a second, “you know what, that’s my fault.”

“What, is this not what you meant?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Peter scruffs a hand through his hair. He looks down at the prosthetic again. “Well, that’s disarming.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to snort. “You gotta hand it to me, though, it’s a good joke.”

Oh, it’s on.

“No, no, of course, I understand. You really can’t let an opportunity like that slip through your fingers.”

Steve chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Stop making the kid shoulder the burden of making puns with you.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Don’t palm this off on someone else, Steve, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Peter shrugs. “You just gotta knuckle-down and find the right one.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to reach for puns?” Bucky hefts his arm.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a lot.”

“Jeez, Pete, good one.”

“What, are you not finding them humerus?”

Sam’s gone, Steve shortly after. Bucky just grins proudly at him.

Then there’s a massive thunk from behind them. Peter turns around to see Tony slamming his forehead into the counter.

“You are all going to kill me,” he mutters, glaring up at them, “all three of you.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark, Captain Barnes would never hurt you.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“After all,” Peter grins, gesturing to Bucky who is doing a very good innocent face—he must’ve been taking notes from Steve— “look at him, he’s completely armless.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker—“

Okay, so maybe it’s not Iron Dad™ Approved.

Oh, well.

[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 3: Balancing on Breaking Branches

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 3,521

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

The day after the party, you were ready for your first class as a freshman in college. Everything went smooth, your professors were nice. There was one who spoke monotonously like he was mumbling, but you survived. Steve was the last thing that crossed your mind but you couldn’t help but replay the look on his face when Natasha threw a drink at him over and over again. You smiled to yourself every time you recalled it; amid of a class, during lunch breaks, in the library and when you returned to your dorm.

Natasha was currently out on a date with the guy she danced at a party last night. Clint, if you’re not misremembering it. You were lounging on your bed with a Sci-Fi book in your hands. You loved casual nights like this; today was the first day so you didn’t have to worry about assignments, projects or tests demanding for your attention. You could just enjoy the scarce school nights where you could just chill with your preferred novel or show.

You were so engulfed in your daydream that a knock on the door jolted you. You certainly weren’t expecting any guest at this hour and it was too early for Natasha to return from her date. Perhaps it didn’t go well or the guy was a birdbrain that Natasha just got up and left? In the past one week you had known Natasha, you knew that it was undoubtedly something Natasha would do.

So you walked toward the door and opened it. What jarred you was the person staring back on the other side.

“…Steve?”

“Hey, y/n.” A placid tone in his voice echoed.

“What…. What are you…? How did you…?”

“Cat got your tongue?”

You chuckled. “No, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting anybody tonight.”

“So you would any other night?”

“No! I- I mean, having guests is not common for me. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“0809B?” He quickly verified the numbering on the door.

“Yes, yes it’s me. But… what are you doing here?” Five years ago if Steve had come over to your place, he wouldn’t even need to bother to knock. But now, it felt like a foreigner was standing at your door; uninvited and unannounced. Inculcating himself on your fortified township that didn’t have his name on the list of inhabitants.

“Thought I’d say hi. It’s been a while.” He said it so carelessly as if it wasn’t your brittle heart that was on the verge of a cliff, a waft away from hitting the ground and crash.

“How did you know where my dorm is?”

“Got my sources all over the campus.” He welcomed himself in without even asking for your permission. You being the pushover you characteristically were, stepping aside immediately as a bit of his arm brushed your shoulder.

“So… where is your scary redhead roommate?” he paced around the room, his broad figure making the moderate unit feels even more cramped.

“She’s on a date.”

Steve scoffed, “good luck to that guy.” His eyes darted all over the chattels before he flumped conveniently on your bed. “This one’s yours, right? I wouldn’t want your roommate to throw more drinks at me for messing up her sheet.”

“Yeah, it’s mine.” you folded your hands on your chest, trying to shield yourself from the unaddressed tension in the room. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night… at the party.” you loaded the silence in the room.

Steve smirked. “What are you sorry for, doll? Wasn’t you who made me go home with wet clothes, was it?”

“I know but, I’m just sorry. I don’t know why she did that, well, I mean I did know, I just didn’t know why she thought it was okay and I really did try to stop her but-” you rambled, feeling even more repentant than before. All the contentment that gradually cultivated since yesterday was extinguished when his cerulean blue eyes fixated themselves on you as he stood from the bed and approached you.

Without a single warning, Steve slammed his lips onto yours, knocking the lungs out of your breath as you nearly stumbled on your feet. And then, it was like the time stopped ticking and the scene was in slow motion. The only things that reverberated in your ears were your laboured breathing and the quickening pace of your heartbeat.

What was happening? Your mind was scattered all over the place by one sweep of his lips and you couldn’t patch the pieces of the phenomenon.

All you knew was that you wanted more… You needed more. It was everything you had ever yearned and perished for. You craved him deep in your bones and he infused himself in your blood, long before you even realized it. And you let him, you’d cut open your flesh, just to have a crumb of his love.

He licked your bottom lip to ask you to grant him entry and you permitted. He tangled his tongue with yours and he explored your mouth. You couldn’t help but emit a whimper to what he was doing to you. His hands around your neck keeping you in place.

“I know you want me, baby… You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Steve. I do.” you were so breathless, you practically whispered the words.

“Say it. Say that you desperately want me.”

“I desperately want you, Steve. Please…” you didn’t know what you were actually pleading for but you were too mesmerized by his touch and his body so close to yours. You would do, say and be anything he wanted you at that moment. You’d give it away without a second thought.

“Such a sweet girl. You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he taunted you. The truth is, he always knew you had fond feelings for him but he never planned to reciprocate those feelings. He always viewed you as someone who was once his best friend, and when he had a taste of what life had to offer once he put himself out there, what you offered felt bleak and monotone. Janet was a wild ride, a Bugatti Chiron on an empty lane and he loved the adrenaline.

But you… You were as soft as cotton, a needy lamb in the middle of a deserted island, begging for someone to come and rescue you. It wasn’t what he liked on his plate but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to have his fun with you. Your naivety came with being malleable and oh, how fun he was going to have, moulding you into whatever he liked.

Steve lifted you and threw you on the bed and you shied away from his fiery gaze. “Stay there.” you nodded and waited for his next move. He took off his coat and stripped himself off his jeans and navy blue shirt. He slowly pulled down his briefs and the primal instinct in you knocked on the door of your desire, tempting you to look but you were too mortified at the moment. Not having that many experiences… Well, not having any experience at all actually, made you feel extremely nervous.

You didn’t know what was happening or what he was going to do next. What if he asked you to do something your Biology classes didn’t teach you about? You were jittery as the ceiling of your dorm suddenly looked so intriguing. You listened to the ruffling noises of his clothes being taken off.

“Sit up.” You followed his order and he lifted your oversized shirt off your body and you suddenly felt so exposed. You weren’t wearing a bra because you never bothered to when you were in your resident and you lived with Natasha who didn’t even care if you walked around the dorm naked.

Your hands instantly shielded your breasts as you shrank before him. He pulled your hands away, clearly disagreeing with your sheepishness. “Now, now, let’s not play coy, shall we? You said you want me then what are you hiding for?”

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded. He lightly pushed your shoulders so you laid back on the mattress, as Steve pulled down your pyjama shorts along with your underwear. You had never felt so unconcealed especially on the eyes of the man you had loved since you were a kid.

“Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you… Well, maybe just a bit.” He winked as he positioned himself between your legs. He trailed butterfly kisses along your body, down from your belly to your neck. He knew the exact spot that would make you weak on the knees (as if you weren’t already–) and he took a little more time there to prep you for the imminent calamity.  

You squirmed underneath as you let out a breathy moan. “Steve…”

“Shh, I got you.”

He dragged his fingers down your clit as he made a circling motion with his fingers there, making you shudder. You bit your lip with your eyes shut and you didn’t see how much he was enjoying the palpable effect he had on you.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“It feels… Good. So good, Steve.” Your wetness gathered and then you felt a nudge of his tip on your bud. You gasped and the friction opened your eyes. “What… What is that?”

“It’s just my cock being impatient for your soaked cunt, baby. Relax. We’re gonna get there.”

You slacked beneath him, letting him take the wheel. When you were wet enough, he stopped. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes… I trust you.”

“You’re willing to give yourself to me? Hm?” He nipped your bottom lip and he bucked his hips into you, giving you a peek of what was about to come.

“Yes… Yes, I will.”

“That’s a good girl.” He inserted his cock through your entrance, tearing off the thin piece of tissue that surrounds your opening. You shrieked in pain as you held on to his shoulders, trying to endure bear the new sensation you’d never felt before.

You closed your eyes, trying to regain composure but it was impossible with him filling you up so well. He withdrew his hips and thrust himself forward and he repeated the action. You tried to suppress your squeals but Steve encouraged you to do otherwise.

“Moan for me baby, go ahead.”

You couldn’t disobey him even if you wanted to anyway, so when he kept pounding you with his enormous cock, you lost your capability of doing anything else but scream his name and felt all of him inside you. The pain that hurt you at the beginning has morphed into newfound pleasure.

He picked up the speed, not wanting to wait any longer to reach his climax. The accelerated velocity formed a sensation in your abdomen, anticipating for its eruption. Steve felt you clenched around him and you couldn’t restrain yourself any longer, one more push and the coil inside you broke and you swore you saw stars and fireworks going off above you.

Steve’s grip tightened on your wrists as his cock throbbed, shooting his cum deep inside you. The euphoria never gets old. Even though he had just fucked two girls after the party last night, there was nothing more satisfying than knowing that he had just desecrated someone’s purity, which is exactly what just did to you.

Steve threw himself off of you in your tiny bed, laying next to you. He had one hand propping up his head and the other one on his stomach, a complacent look on his face beamed like the moon in the eventide. In a matter of seconds, Steve collapsed from the depletion and he flickered out like a light.

You, on the other hand, felt… Different. It was like your body was replaced with a clone and now you must make peace with the reality that this was your brand new skin. You felt something in you bloomed like a flower in spring. There was electricity in your veins like and you knew that you couldn’t return to what you once were before Steve led you down this path.

You regarded him at his most equanimous state and memorized every featured on his face. This was everything you had ever dreamed of; him, slumbering on your bed after he just made sweet, sweet love to you. His lashes fluttering with his lips slightly part as his soft snores escaped through the crevice. You wanted to touch him, anywhere, anywhere at all where you could palpate the minuscule parts him that composed him into who he is.

You recalled the graze on his knee when he recklessly rode down his bike on a bumpy road, taking a shortcut to the cinema because the film was starting in seven minutes and it took at least twenty to reach from his house.

You recalled the bruise on his cheek from when he was young and stupid; he dared to fight anyone who wouldn’t stop talking during the show.

You recalled the scar on his palm from when a branch scraped his skin when you had your own little summer adventure in the woods.

…And you recalled the first moment you fell in love with him; it was when you cried in fifth grade because your impish classmate, Jason had stolen your favourite pencil and he broke it. Steve comforted you by offering his own pencil even though he barely had enough money to buy another one and he didn’t hesitate in standing up to the boy and punched him on his nose. Jason went home and cried on his bicycle with a bleeding nose. It was also the moment you realized just how lucky you were to have such a considerate best friend like him.

You stargazed the man who you knew by heart like the back of your hand; you began to feel yourself getting drowsy so you let the weariness pulls you down to oblivion, there was no better view than Steve’s face being the last thing that you saw before you could meet him again in your dreams.

-

Steve didn’t realize he had fallen asleep so quickly after he fucked you; goddamnit, how the hell did this even happen? He always got up and leave as soon as possible after he had his fill. He wasn’t one for aftercare and cuddling after sex. He wasn’t planning on to settle in a relationship either.

After Janet was caught screwing Ken who he thought was his friend, he decided that he would stop committing into mundanity. Why on earth would he need to give himself to one woman only when he could have a million other women? He knew he was hot shit. He wasn’t this awkward and scrawny kid that he used to be anymore; he was bigger, bulkier, and braver.

He was also aware of the talent he possessed; he was an excellent performer. He had received countless praises from his schoolmates and his teachers after every school plays. He was going to attain even so much more now that he is in college. It’s a free real estate.

He didn’t need anyone else. The only woman worthy of his attention and devotion was his mom. His mom who had endlessly supported him, loved him and raised him. He made an oath to himself that he was going to pay back all her sweat from hours of drudgery. That means, he had to work his ass off until he no longer had to worry about paying the bills and filling his fridge. Until he could buy Sarah her own Range Rovers.

That also means he had no time to share an apartment with a girl and decorate it with tiny houseplants or talk about how many children they were going to have together. No, he knew that was what you wanted from him. He knew that was how you illustrated your future. He was getting miffed by it already. He’d hate having to pretend that he’s the slightest bit interested in having a conversation of “where is this going?”

So he tried to slip through your grasp as quiet as a ninja to prevent waking you up. You stirred a little bit and he was relieved to see that you didn’t open your eyes. God, we fucked once and he was already this clingy? No, thank you. He cerebrated.

He put on his clothes that were strewed on the floor and sprinted for the knob, letting himself out without looking back. He was free.

-

Natasha had returned from her date a little later than expected; Clint had taken her to the outskirts of town for a late getaway and they lost track of time. By the time she arrived at her dorm, it was nearing three am where there were barely people who were still up.

Except for one person. What the hell is he even doing here?

Natasha saw Steve Rogers coming out of the resident with a blue trench coat hugging his massive figure. He didn’t see her, lucky for him. Because if he had, she would’ve murdered him on spot with her glare. He should’ve thanked his guardian angels in heaven that Natasha was too knackered to obtrude herself in his direction and confront him. If she hadn’t, she would’ve tackled him to the ground. (She could do it, she had done it back in high school when someone tried to mug her. It was as if she was a highly trained Russian spy in another life or something)

She monitored him as he ignited the engine and bolted off his Harley Davidson to God knows where and then she entered her building. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder, did he come here to see you? Perhaps to apologize? Did I successfully knocked some sense into him? There would be a necessary conversation waiting for you in the morning.

-

In the dawn, you woke up with a glow permeating through the drawn curtains and one that emitted from your body. You couldn’t put a word to enunciate it, but it felt rapturous. Just like the ache between your legs.

You expected to see Steve next to you, thinking that he would be there to kiss you good morning and maybe you both could have breakfast together before class starts. But of course, he didn’t stay. Perhaps he left earlier to get ready at his own place and didn’t wanna wake you up? That would’ve been sweet but… was it really the incentive?

“Good morning.” Natasha greeted with a cotton towel wrapped around her body.

“Hey, what time did you come home last night?” you roused from your nestled state.

“Around 3 AM, got a little lost. Clint took us to the outskirts, I almost thought he was planning to kidnap me.” Natasha joked.

You were quiet. You had questions hovering in your head but you didn’t have the courage to voice them.

“Funny story… I ran into Steve Rogers last night. Well, I saw him walk out of the building more precisely.”

“Oh…” there was no curiosity or astonishment in your voice.  

Natasha had a dubious look on her face, “did he come to see you?”

“…Yeah, he did.”

“Did he come to apologize?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Then what did he do?”

You bit your lip replaying the sin that you committed last night. You could still feel him between your legs and you felt your body tingled at the flashback. Your lack of respond told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh, no… Y/N…”

“No, it was actually… Good. He was really good.”

“Sweetie,” she asserted to make you listen. “You know you were only one of the hundreds of women he had slept with, right?” She postulated.

“What makes you say that?” you were dejected. But deep down, you knew… You knew that she wasn’t mistaken. But it doesn’t mean people can’t change… Right?

“I’ve dealt with men like him many times, y/n. I knew he was trouble as soon as I first saw him at the party. Remember all those girls who surrounded him like he was Charles Manson? I’ll bet you $20 that he had put his penis in every single one of them.”

Your words were clogged in your throat. You felt the pang in your heart at her truthful words. As much as you’d like to inculpate her for speaking nonsense, you knew better. Steve didn’t apologize, he never even showed a single shred of remorse for forsaking you in high school. He only came to take advantage of you and then fleed without saying goodbye.

Maybe the blame was on you, for closing your ears on your own intuition. For allowing him to climb inside your body and getting away unscathed after desecrating your innocence. You felt resentment, hurt, defeat, sorrow and loss filling you up like steaming hot water, searing you inside out. But you hated yourself more for knowing that despite all the incriminating turpitude he inflicted on you, you still yearned for him. You still loved him.

[nev3rfound]

who we once were : chapter one

before steve found bucky in bucharest, there was a girl who will never be known by anyone besides bucky; for she is his greatest and most secret pleasure during some of his darkest days. 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

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CHAPTER ONE / TWO

April, 2016

“So what did you do for all that time, hiding away in Bucharest, Buck?” Steve questions, glancing up to his friend as they near the borders to Wakanda.

Smiling to himself, all Bucky can hear is the sound of that laughter he longs for, the embrace he’ll never have again. “There was this girl,” Bucky begins, but Steve chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why am I not surprised?” Steve inputs, but Bucky looks out of the window, searching for a temporary distraction from the pain. 

“Like you can talk, punk.” Bucky half-jokes, but Steve can see there’s more than meets the eye to his words. 

“What was she like?” Steve asks, wondering who could’ve managed to maintain his old friend's attention and love for so long. 

Bucky glances back to Steve, feeling a weight holding his heart down as he lets out a short laugh. “She was unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

*

November, 2015

“Yes, Mom, I’m fine.” You resist the urge to sigh down the line as you reach your floor, fiddling in your bag for your keys. “Look I got here okay, you know Uncle T took care of it all.”

Through the line you listen to your Mother’s worries, you were far away from home, alone and without anyone to keep you company. “I just worry, it’s what Mothers do, Y/n.” She reminds you, and you can’t help but feel guilty at her statement.

“I get that, Mom.” You say quietly as you stand in front of your door, seeing the chipped paintwork around the number nailed into the door. “But you have to let me go at some point.” The last part is muttered, knowing the last time you said that she broke down crying.

Looking around, you see two doors to your left, and one to your right. “How’s the building, honey? Is it nice?” Your Mother changes the topic, and as you seethe through your teeth, ‘nice’ may be a generous term.

“Yeah, I like it.” You lie, but you wanted to afford somewhere on your own. Your family insisted on helping, chipping in a small sum to get you somewhere safe, but you politely declined. This was your trip, your experience to learn and what better way than to be in the heart of the city, even if it meant living in a cheap apartment block.

As you unlock your front door, it remains stiff. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, sweetie. Don’t forget to give us a call later though, once you’re settled.” You faintly listen to your Mom as you shove your body weight against the door, allowing it to squeak against the hinges as it opens.

Standing still, your eyes scan around your new home for the next few months. “Okay, Mom.” You mutter through the line, hanging up afterwards as you drop your bag from your shoulder, letting the dust settle beneath it.

Nice definitely was a generous term.

It was a run-down building, you knew this when you enquired in August. You knew photos could be misleading, that some properties weren’t as bad as photographed, but this place lived up to what you saw.

Mould covered the corners of the ceilings, you could hear the dripping tap in the kitchen and see straight through to the bedroom from the front door.

“This is it, Y/n.” You mumble to yourself as you drag your bags through, dropping them onto the circular dining room table adjacent to the rusted kitchen area.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you run your fingers through your hair.

“I wondered if anyone would ever move in next door.” A British voice speaks up, catching you off guard. Turning on your heels, you clutch your chest as an elderly woman stands by your doorway, holding her pink purse in both hands as her back is slightly hunched over.

You chuckle softly, smiling gently as you walk over. “That’d be me. I just arrived. I’m Y/n,” You extend your hand, to which the elderly lady accepts and shakes weakly.

“Madeline. You aren’t from around here, are you?” She raises an eyebrow, watching as you shake your head.

“No, I’m just here for a few months. For a work project.” You explain, and Madeline nods to herself. “Sounds like you aren’t either if I’m not mistaken?”

Madeline laughs quietly. “You would be correct, dear. Me and my dear husband, Adrian, moved back here for retirement. This is his home, he longed to come back, but sadly he passed away not long after we returned.”

“I’m so sorry, that must’ve been difficult for you.” You speak up, and Madeline purses her lips before straightening up, looking back up at your expression.

“Thank you, dear, but I’m doing all right on my own. Welcome to the building, and if you need anything, I’m just next door.” She sweetly smiles before walking past you, heading toward the stairs and slowly declines, gripping the railings tightly.

Returning to a state of solitude, you close your front door only for it to reopen itself. You kick it, hearing the wood crack against the hinges and you wince, but at least it is properly shut.

Sitting down by your belongings, you listen to the faint sound of traffic in the distance, the sound of people talking and haggling.

“Welcome to Bucharest, I guess.” You think aloud as you lean back in your chair, unsure what exactly to do next.

*

You’d been living in the city for a week, slowly adjusting to your new routine. It wasn’t the easiest to get used to. The city was unlike your hometown, the rush of New York and the sound of taxies honking their horns and yelling at pedestrians was something you found yourself longing for.

The area you’re living in is definitely run down, it was within the old town as opposed to the main city. You couldn’t afford the luxuries of waking up in the heart of Bucur’s city on your own, but the small market outside of the apartment building was humbling. 

Most days, you wandered through, keeping an eye out of the vibrant colours that decorated the varying stools at the market. You were able to speak in Romanian to a certain degree, but you were still learning the language as you heard snippets of conversations.

“How much for the oranges?” You hear a voice speak up in Romanian from the stall next to you, a deep voice listening as the vender responds.

Glancing over, you catch a glimpse of the man in question. Tall, covered head to foot in dark clothing, his face concealed by brunette hair and a baseball cap. But he turns his head and catches your gaze. You’ll never forget those blue eyes, the ones that haunt you in your sleep.

No sooner as he looks at you, he turns back to the vender. “Miss?” Someone asks you, and you return your focus to the vendor of the meats.

“Sorry.” You mutter before carrying on with your purchase and carry on through the market. Part of you can’t help but look back as you continue through the stalls, wondering if those blue eyes are still around. Yet, no sooner than you saw him, he vanishes.

As you return back to the building and trace up the stairs, you see the same figure at the door alongside yours.

“Buna?” You uneasily call out to the man who keeps his head still, not even peering over his shoulder to see who is addressing him. “Erm, hi?” You try again, now moving toward your own door. “I’m your new neighbour, Y/n.”

The man remains silent, taking no notice of you as he unlocks his door, pushing it open and slams it shut behind him.

“Okay then.” You mutter before hearing the sound of faint laughter to your right.

“He’s like that with everyone.” Madeline peers through her doorway, grasping a mug in her hands as they shake lightly. “Don’t take it to heart, dear.” She tells you before closing her own door, leaving you with the thought of your mysterious neighbour.

Hours have passed you by, sitting by the window and admiring the sunset, you listen to the faint sound of doors opening and closing. The conversations passing your apartment as footsteps continue upwards to other floors, but through of all of it, your strange neighbour with those blue eyes never leaves your thoughts, not completely.

After the sun has finally bid adieu, you clean up your apartment and head into your bedroom. It was fairly stuffy, but the cotton blinds over the windows help provide a gentle breeze throughout the room.

Closing your eyes, you begin to drift off, knowing your boss is likely to call anyway wanting to update you on your report.

“Meow. Meow.” Sitting upright, you rub your eyes, wondering if you’re imagining the faint sound of a cat.

Yet, the sound reoccurs throughout the night.

You wander toward the front door, hovering by doorknob as your hands shake. The meowing stops, and you retreat from the  front door uneasily and return to bed.

It was safe to say you didn’t get much sleep that night, as the haunting cries of a kitten sound throughout your mind.

The same occurrence happens for the next three nights. You hear the sound of a kitten crying by your front door, but every time something in your gut holds you back.

Exiting your apartment, you locked the door behind you in desperate need for coffee. As you turn, your neighbour appears at his front door with a clear bag filled with fruit. “Hi,” You mutter, flashing a tired smile to which he doesn’t reciprocate. “okay then.” You add under your breath, heading toward the stairs.

“Don’t open your door to the cries.” The man speaks up, his eyes fixated with the floor. “Just don’t do it.” He adds before walking into his apartment, closing the door behind him leaving you with the sound of his deep voice, an uncertain accent lacing it.

Sitting in a small cafe, you scroll through your phone, seeing photos from back home of all your friends. You can feel that sinking sensation in your stomach again, contemplating whether this trip was a mistake.

Maybe you should’ve just let the offer go to someone else. Why your boss decided you were the one to go was still a mystery to you, but as you sip your coffee, you see a notification from him arise.

‘How’s the report coming? Chosen a subject yet?’

Exhaling deeply, you bury your head in your hands. Truth be told, you hadn’t even thought of your subject.

The terms of you coming out to Bucharest surrounded around you writing a report on a chosen topic about the city. The publishers you worked for wanted something new, something different. You can picture your boss pacing around the board meeting, using his hands and quoting Shakespeare, Dickens and Wilde. He wanted you to go, experience more and come back with a new light, a new perspective.

Yet, you haven’t had that yet. So far, you’ve experienced sleepless nights, one neighbour being antisocial whilst the other welcomed you with open arms. It isn’t exactly groundbreaking content that differs from what you live through back home.

Using the rest of your day, you decide to explore the city a bit more. As you wander, you pray for some form of inspiration to strike as the sun beams down on you as you find yourself in King Mihai I Park. Around you, groups of people laugh, play games or sit in endless conversations. Yet, you can’t help but fixate on those few couples, the ones lying down on blankets, fingers intertwined as they talk about nothing to anything. 

Reaching your neighbourhood, you push open the door to the apartment block, stepping over the fallen pieces of wood as you head up the stairs, holding back a yawn.

Once inside, you pick up your phone, deciding it’s about time to check in with someone back home- for sanity if nothing else. 

“Hello?” You listen to her hopeful tone through the line and immediately your spirits are lifted.

“Oh thank god you answered.” You laugh softly, hearing your best friends’ mirror you. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Y/n, it’s been like a week and a half.” Cassie reminds you, but it doesn’t feel like that.

Kicking your feet out from the chair in the dining room, you walk to your bedroom, collapsing down on the bed. “Feels longer if you ask me.” You state, staring up at the bitty ceiling as you listen to the couple upstairs stomp around. “I just wanted to talk to someone.”

“Why not call your Mom?” She questions with that tone that implies you definitely should call your Mom, but you whine at her suggestion.

“What am I meant to say to her? ‘Everything is great, Mom. I’m not sleeping much, I’m pretty sure I’ve got some illness from the mould in my apartment and my neighbours are sketchy and as a bonus, I’ve not started my report. Besides that, everything is swell.’” You reel off, knowing Cassie is rolling her eyes on the other end of the call.

“Everyone lies, Y/n. What’s the big deal?” Cassie asks, but as always, your silence speaks volumes. “You don’t wanna let her down, do you?”

Groaning loudly, you sit upright. “I don’t want to fail and come home. ‘Cause that will be all I’m known for. The daughter who couldn’t get her shit together and stick it out.” You explain, deep down it’s something you’ve always felt ever since you got the job at the publishing company.

“She always looks for the next step.” Cassie comments, having seen most of these events play out through your childhood and adolescence right through to adulthood. “But how’re things there though, are your neighbours nice, any hot Romanian men around?”

Your mind wanders to your neighbour next door. “Not yet.” You quickly answer, changing your mind about mentioning him. “But the old lady next door is a sweet brit.” You say happily.

“Will she invite you over for tea and crumpets?” Cassie tries her best to imitate a British accent, failing miserably. “Yeah I know it sucked, you don’t have to tell me.” She mutters. resulting in you laughing light-heartedly.

“Wanna catch up next week? I might have something more exciting to tell you by then.” You suggest, and Cassie agrees to it. “Oh, one last thing Cas,” You start, pausing as you listen to the sound of the meowing once more.

“What?” Cassie speaks up, snapping you from the thought of the helpless cries and your neighbour's warning.

“Don’t tell my Mom anything just yet.” You say, nearing your front door. “Love you.”

“Love you too, stay safe, okay?” Cassie tells you and hangs up, leaving you by the door with the desperate cries of that kitten.

Placing your phone down on the counter beside you, you kneel down by the door. Looking underneath, you can see four small paws sitting perfectly still. “Oh, lil baby.” You mumble, feeling guilty for ever doubting yourself and letting the kitten cry alone. “Let me help.” You speak up in a soft voice as you unlock the door and open it.

Sitting before you is a small white kitten with bright blue eyes, looking up at you with such curiosity.

“Come here, kitty.” You kneel down, taking the kitten in your arms and turn back into your apartment. The kitten continues to meow in your arms, and you try your best to soothe it. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” You mumble, stroking its fur.

Unbeknownst to you, three large men were hiding in the stairwell, two situated below and one above. One signalled to the others and they crept in behind you, revealing a knife as they placed it against your back.

“If you move, you die.” One spoke up whilst another chuckled.

Remaining frozen with the kitten in your hands you obey. “Please, I barely have anything.” You plead with them, keeping your eyes focused on the kitten as it continues to look up at you.

“You must do.” Another spits as he rummages through your things, tearing into draws and snickers as they find your underwear.

You wince as you feel the knife sticking in through your top, starting to pierce your skin. “I, I won’t say anything if you just let me go.” You try again, but the two men looking through your belongings share a look and focus on the figure behind you.

“We’ll let you go, princess.” One of the men steps closer, his hand reaches out to your cheek, but you flinch away only causing him to laugh. “Once we’re done with you.” He whispers, making you shiver as you’re shoved forward and drop the kitten.

“No! Leave me alone!” You’re yelling, making as much noise as possible to alert someone as tears gloss over your eyes.

“She said to leave her alone.” A new voice speaks up and the three men pause, throwing you to the ground, causing you to hit your head against a cabinet, falling on your back as you clutch your head.

Trying to sit upright, you struggle to focus on the four figures, but you watch as one begins to take the other three out.

He blocks multiple attempts at being stabbed, you can hear the wails after bones break, and soon enough, three men lie unconscious on your floor.

The fourth figure steps forward, and instinctively you back away. That is until he picks up the little white kitten and moves into the light.

“I told you not to open the door.” He reminds you, now allowing you to fully see his face as his lips close into a line.

Words fail you as you focus on him, the hardship in his eyes as he looks at you. “I, I couldn’t ignore the kitten.” You weakly state as you try to stand up, but as you lift your fingers from the back of your head, all you can see is crimson.

“Let me help you.” Your neighbour mutters, pulling out one of your chairs and motions for you to sit. 

Abiding by his instructions, you watch as places the kitten on the table before he walks into your bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. “Sorry if I woke you up.” You apologise as he lifts your hair up, applying pressure to your wound, causing you to wince and soon eases his grip.

“Keep light pressure on it.” He tells you, stepping away.

Whilst you keep your eyes locked on the kitten sitting before you, your neighbour moves the unconscious men out from your apartment. You try to ignore the sound of their bodies against the stairs as none of this has truly sunk in just yet.

As the last body hits a wall and your neighbour exhales, it suddenly hits you and you can feel tears spilling from your eyes. “They, they would’ve killed me.” You think aloud, oblivious to your neighbour having returned.

Standing by the door, he can see how much chaos they caused. Your apartment has been turned upside down, your belongings misplaced and strawn for all to see.

“You’re alive, that’s what matters.” He moves past you, picking up the kitten from the table with such care, stroking the top of its head as it purs. “Wanna keep her?” He asks, holding the kitten out in front of you.

“I’ve got no use for a kitten, I’m only here temporarily.” You shrug a shoulder, wiping your eyes. “You keep her.” You suggest, seeing how she cosies up into his chest, the sight making you smile.

Your neighbour clears his throat as he looks over at you quickly, tearing his eyes away as the kitten climbs up his chest, reaching his baseball cap.

“You wear that thing to bed?” You joke, but his cold gaze warns you and you silence your laughter. “I’m Y/n, by the way. And, and thank you.” You rise to your feet, watching as he backs away. “I guess I better get this all sorted.” You sigh, looking around and feel a rush in your head, causing you to stumble.

“You should take it easy.” He advises, reaching out, but never touching you.

Pausing, you nod in response as he backs away toward the front door. “I, will you stay with me, please?” You call out, stumbling over your words. A wave of regret hits you as he pauses by the door, slowly turning around. “In case they come back, or someone else comes. I, I just don’t feel safe.” You explain yourself, feeling the need to justify.

“I,” He stutters for a second before feeling the kitten purs against his neck. “okay. I, I’ll stay on your couch with this one.” He motions to the kitten, moving to sit down and watches as you busy yourself, moving books and papers out of the way.

“Thank you.” You mutter, closing the front door before sitting beside him.

“James.” He speaks quietly, looking at you briefly before returning his attention to the kitten.

Smiling to yourself, you remove the bloodied cloth and tug on a blanket from behind you. “Well, it’s nice to meet you James, and, and Snow? Like the Alps?” You suggest, your voice quirking at the end.

Looking at them both, you can almost imagine a smile crossing his lips, but James pauses. “Alpine.” He mumbles, stroking her head as her eyes close. “I’ll call her Alpine.”

James glances over to you once more, seeing your warm smile.

Little did you know those blue eyes would break your heart..

Feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Taglist: @florencxs @introvertatitsfinest 

CHAPTER TWO

[canumoveurseatup-no]

listening party

summary: he can’t get enough of you and the others like to hear it.

word count: 1.9k

pairing: bruce x black!reader 18+

warnings: straight up smut, rough sex, Daddy kink, age gap (18+), exhibitionism(?), voyeurism(?), slight subspace (pls remember subspace is different for everyone so if the descriptions in this don’t match your experience- doesn’t mean it’s wrong) this... is just about to be nasty. i have a crying during sex kink so yeah that’s in here good

a/n: i want bruce to ruin me. that is all. also, this was very last minute so i am sorry if it’s not the greatest.

————

“The rabbits are going at it again, I would not suggest going down that hall” Sam warned.

“I can hear them from here- what difference does it make?,” Tony scoffed.

You were the apple of everyone’s eye, but only Bruce caught your attention in that way. You found it amusing that everyone thought Bruce couldn’t keep hulk contained in bed but you hit them with the

“Who says Hulk isn’t present anyway?,”

There was nothing extremely exclusive about you and Bruce, no dating, nothing, just him rearranging your guts whenever you two were in the mood. Everyone knew not to go anywhere near you, despite them wanting a taste.

“Are we gonna have another listening party? or are we going to mind our business this time?,” Wanda played with a straw in her cup while the others shrugged.

“I don’t know, guys,” Steve shrugged, “Don’t you feel it’s a little invasive to listen in?,”

“Invasive my ass,” Bucky chuckled to himself, “This is the closest we can get to actually being with her and don’t act like you don’t blow a nice one when you finally head to your room,”

“Buck!,” Steve frowned and scowled at his best friend putting him out there like that.

“Plus I’m sure they know. Y/N is a fan of exhibitionism so,” Natasha smacked her lips and made herself comfortable in her seat on the couch. A comfy position where she could clench her thighs together and get enough friction that she even has a mini orgasm right with you and Bruce.

“Fuck!,”

Your voice rang through the room and Tony muted the television and sat with a bowl of popcorn in his lap

“Let the show begin,”

————

Bruce pretty much had you in the shape of a pretzel, legs crossed at your calves and pushed towards your chest, the burn in your thighs was ignored as you felt Bruce deep inside.

“Hhhhhh,” you whined, “Don’t stop! fuck, please don’t stop!,”

You could never get enough of practically feeling him in your stomach. He loved watching the way your eyes rolled, he loved the way your breath hitched, he loved the way tears ran down your face because he made you feel so good you could barely comprehend it.

“You’re so fucking wet. Who did it?,” He couldn’t help but taunt you, knowing you were a good girl for him, always answering his questions despite his dick being buried deep inside you.

“You! Only you,”

“That’s right. That pussy is so wet it’s soaking onto my sheets,”

“S-sorry Daddy,”

You knew he meant it as a good thing but damn you couldn’t help but put on a show of innocence. You loved that he made you feel so small in these moments. You were a sucker for a greying, well established man who put you in your place and took you to ravish as his own.

“Look at that little pussy taking all of me in,” he groaned and you felt your walls spasming at that sound. If it were socially acceptable, you’d have his moans and groans set as your ringtones.

Bruce wasn’t abnormally huge but a good 7 inches had you swooning, especially since he was an older man that still knew how to use it.

“You’re gonna make me cum, again,” you sobbed.

Bruce smiled at your tear smeared face and hiked your hips up a little higher and that had you speaking in tongues, screaming so loud it echoed down the hall.

“That’s right, baby. Scream,” he grabbed your face in his hand and his eyes bored into your soul which was halfway fucked out of your body, “Look at me when you cum,”

“Yes yes yes!,” you wailed. You could barely keep your eyes open as your jaw dropped as your body gave in, succumbing to his ways and convulsing in an orgasm.

“Keep cumming. Love feeling your pussy pull me in,”

God, he looked so heavenly above you, hair on his chest, glistening with a layer of sweat. Your toes curled so hard they cracked and it felt like you were experiencing astral projection.

“Come back down, baby. I’m not done with you yet” he pulled out and looped his arms around your thighs to pull you right to the edge of the bed so he could bury his face right in your pussy so he could devour you until you see the planets swirling around the room.

Bruce had a skilled tongue, and the way he flicked your clit had you flinching away from him. Another pit formed in your stomach and had you grabbing for your breasts for leverage. Two of his thick fingers easily pushed in you, curling up and moving back and forth in a come her motion. It made you weak every time. Fingering was a big weakness and had you gushing each time.

“Bruce!!,” you looked down to see him smirking at you, you both knew he was your undoing, “just like that, just like that, don’t stop, baby please!,”

Your clit throbbed in his mouth and he slurped up everything you had to offer, “Fuck, I love how good you taste.”

He removes his fingers and pushed them past your lips, ever the sharer he was. Watching his pink tongue swirling around your pussy, kissing your chocolate lips, with his fingers in your mouth that were once covered in your juices until they coated your tongue had you cunning in no time. Both hands on the back of his head as you announced another orgasm.

“That’s it baby, let them hear it. Let them know who you belong to,”

———

“Daddy, fuck!,”

“I told you they knew!!,” Steve hisses, “Now they’re gonna think we’re perverts for listening,”

“We literally get off on hearing them fuck- though I doubt they’re thinking that of us- they wouldn’t be wrong,” Tony adjusted himself in his jeans, and rested his head back against the back of the couch with a scotch in hand, “Little dove knows how much we wanted her so of course she’s gonna beg him to bang her brains out, it makes her loud and if she’s loud, we hear and if we hear, we crave her more. Attention greedy little sub- it’s quite cute,”

“How do you know she’s a sub?,” Bucky asks

“She’s a junior intern in college with a daddy kink. She’s had heart eyes for ‘Brucey’ ever since she walked through those doors. She loves older men, that’s why she likes to tease Tony too,” Natasha’s thighs clench at your pleas to be fucked faster, wishing she could just go get her strap and give it to you all night, “So I think it’s safe to say, little dove is a sub, a bratty one at that,”

Everyone knows of the times you’d purposely sass Bruce so he’d put you in your place, in front of everyone or not. No one really remembers how you two came to be, just one night they heard all the ruckus from Bruce’s room and the next morning you stalked out of his room, curls matted to your head, walking with a limp and marks covering your chest. You were grateful your class was cancelled that day.

“Choke me, Daddy. I need it- want you to feel my pulse pound for you... want you to f-feel it against your fingertips,”

Clint groaned and shook his head, “This girl is going to be the death of me,”

————

“Thats right, little dove. Your pulse pounds for me and only me,” nose touching yours, your held his hand tighter around you neck, wanting to see the Big Bang happen right in front you, you wanted to be choked out so hard you saw the universe being created.

“You look so pretty smiling while my hand is around your throat, cheeks damp from me fucking those cute little tears out of you,”

Your teeth dig into your lip as you looked up at him, body moving back and forth m the sheets from the force of him fucking you relentlessly. Your eyes began lulling closed so he removed his hand, your back arching off the bed with a gasp big enough to create a whole new generation.

You saw the Big Bang right in front of your eyes. Seeing a bunch of pretty colors, adoring the creation of the stars and planets.

“Oh, God,” Bruce moaned to himself. He was close. He turned you on your side, you curled your legs into your chest for comfort as you were getting the life fucked out of you to the point where you saw all your future lives- the lives after this one.

“D-Daddy I can’t take it- not another!,”

Your body was preparing you for another orgasm but damn, you were spent, over stimulated, you’d fall right into subspace and it wouldn’t take much right now.

“Be a good girl and take it, dove. You wanna be my good girl, don’t you?,”

———

“Y-Yes yes yes, daddy I d-do,”

“Oh she’s deep in it now,” Wanda smirked.

“That’s record time isn’t it?,” Sam looked at his watch. You two were going at it for a while before they decided to sit here and listen but by the sound of your shrill mewling, you’ve hit euphoria. They know just by your noises when you’ve hit subspace.

“Seriously just about to have a hand free orgasm because she... is killing me,” Tony ran a hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I would be grossed out if I wasn’t in the same boat,” Bucky muttered.

Small mumbles of “me too” and “same” We’re heard from around the room.

“Cum in me, daddy. P-please!,”

“Oh God,” Nat hissed, hips bucking up into nothing

————

“Want you to come for me one more time before I give you what you want, baby,” his lips kissed your cheeks and shoulder, soothing you, knowing you’re feeling a million nerve endings being set on fire in this moment.

You couldn’t even announce that you were cumming, the words wouldn’t come. You became incoherent while your ears began ringing. The rhythm of his hips stuttered as your pussy gushed all over him.

You couldn’t even hear yourself as you let out the cry of a banshee.

Bruce bottomed out to cum deep inside of you.

“Such a good little dove,” he have a hard thrust, making sure to get his seed deep inside you. His body fell on top of yours while you whimpered and shook in cold chills. Bruce wiped the sweat and tears from your face to hold

It in his hands and pepper kisses here and there, “you did so good, dove. I’m not going anywhere,” after a few minutes, he pulled out and just laid beside you, massaging the convulsions out of your body and giving you sips of a drink to hush your hiccups and replenish any energy your lost.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,”

————

“I’m ashamed,” Wanda covers her face and walks away to her room.

“I’m not,” Tony shrugs, “That shit’s hot as fuck,”

“I’m... going to my room,” Steve rushed away and they all filed out one by one to their own rooms to either wash their shame away or add to it.

Tony say comfortably on the couch and chuckled to himself.

“Friday!,”

“Yes, Tony?,”

“Save the audio from Banner’s hall to the ‘listening party’ file, please”

————

i know it’s short and i apologize!! but i will make up for it 😭

PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT!!!!

tags- @blackreaders-assemble @vozit @yournonlocalpoc @retroxvailles @valynsia @valkyriesnymph @here-for-your-bullshit @dumbchick @warmchick @veryhellshdia @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @crawlingnightmares @hisxblackxqueen @mbaku-babygirl @xye-weirdo @spideys-wife

[sgtbbarnes107]

Seeing Someone

Who: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers ( @fightbattlesthatmatter )

When: Early December

What: Steve tells Bucky that he’s started going to therapy. 

Steve

Things had been fine with Steve and Bucky for the most part. It had been good. Easy for the most part. But Steve still had something to tell Bucky. He just hadn’t yet. Of course, he had been going to see Dr. Crane for a little while now. He figured, if he was keeping up with it, he had better tell Bucky.

He came out with a cup of tea for each of them, settling down to sit beside the other. “Hey Buck,” he said. “What’re you watching?”

Bucky

While Bucky had things going on outside the house - volunteering at the VA, mostly, and batting around the idea of taking on some paid custom building projects - within its walls he’d given Steve his focus. He still felt good. He took time, usually when Steve was at work or off in his studio painting, to write in his journals still. There were fewer snatches of memory and more cohesive thoughts, desires even, than before. It helped keep things on track. 

“Blacksmith competition,” he answered, taking the cup. “They’re building some kind of Japanese...sword.” Four of them. As Steve sat down, Bucky shifted to draw his legs up onto the couch and drape one over Steve’s lap.

Steve

“You gonna take up a new hobby?” He teased. “I’m sure we have room for an anvil somewhere.” He could just picture Bucky making swords. The thought had him laughing a little. 

“What do you think?”

Bucky

“I think I might have enough projects going on for now, but don’t count me out yet. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make an ax. Everybody needs a good ax, right?” He blew steam away from the top of his cup and took a tiny, tentative sip before deciding to let it sit. “You don’t want a one of a kind, Bucky Barnes shield?”

Steve

“I would use it,” he said. “Don’t think I wouldn’t. I still have the Nomad shields.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead before sipping his drink. “I think you’d look good with an axe.” 

After a moment, when commercial came, Steve reached for the remote to mute it. “I came in to talk to you,” he said. “I thought we should chat about something. If it’s a good time.”

Bucky

“If I made you a whole shield, you’d better use it. For a picture, if nothing else.” He wasn’t a fool; he wasn’t going to be crafting anything with vibranium even in the made up universe where he suddenly started making weapons instead of cat shelves. He didn’t actually have any interest in doing that. Plenty of other parts of his life involved weapons. “Duly noted. I’ll be sure to get my hands on one.”

He wanted to chat about something. They’d gone a few weeks without needing to chat about something. Bucky didn’t let his head go there, though. He’d been fine, as far as he was aware. “Shoot.”

Steve

“I just wanted to let you know that while you were gone, I start seeing someone.” He shrugged, sipping his drink. “Jonathan Crane.” Sip. 

He hoped that Bucky wouldn’t tell him it was a bad idea. It was... nice to be able to talk to someone. Someone who didn’t just care about him insofar as he was Captain America. “I don’t think he’s the same as Rachel, but he’s a therapist. And after you left I was really messed up. So I just... thought it was a good idea.”

Bucky

“I-“ He thought he’d heard him wrong. Surely he had. Steve gave that pause though, and in the span of the few seconds it took him to finish what he was saying, the only thing that ran through his head was ‘what the hell?’ While you were gone I started seeing someone. What. The. Hell?

But there it was, the rest of it, at the same time that Bucky sat his full cup down a little too hard on the table and felt hot tea touch the sides of his fingers. “Oh Jesus, Steve.” He flicked the tea away and ran that hand down his face. “I thought-“ What had he thought? The phrasing had thrown him hard. Bucky shook his head and let the thought go with it. “Sure. Sure...they help, sometimes.” Some people. It wasn’t like Rachel hadn’t helped him.

Steve

He blinked, wincing at the sound of the cup. He embraced for Bucky to yell at him, and then he seemed ready to tell Steve off. His face fell a little. “I know you haven’t had a great experience with them, but I was tired of having no one to talk to. And he actually knows how to help.” Bucky hadn’t yelled, but he was clearly irritated. 

With a sigh, Steve pushed to his feet before moving to get a paper towel to wipe up the rest of the spill.

Bucky

Steve had been the one to suggest Bucky give therapy another shot. That he’d want it or seek it out himself wasn’t some huge shock, though as far as he knew he’d not done it before. “Just because I didn’t have the greatest time doesn’t mean I don’t think you can. If it helps-“ he reached for the paper towel when Steve came back with it, perfectly capable of cleaning up his own mess, “if it helps and you need it, then...good. I’m glad.” And he was. Steve was right. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to. That was Bucky’s fault, in whole or in part, so who was he to say the remedy he’d chosen for it was somehow wrong?

Steve

Moments passed as Bucky seemed tight lipped, and Steve quickly replayed the conversation in his head. If he was fine with it, then why had he gotten pissed off?

He stared at Bucky blankly for a moment before the wording clicked. “What? You thought I started dating someone else?” He hadn’t put it together because the idea would never have crossed his mind. Not in a thousand years. “Come on, Buck. You think that’s me?”

Bucky

No, he didn’t think it was Steve, which was why the phrasing he’d used had been so baffling. But who would hear that, followed by a name without even the word Doctor in front of it, and leap straight to ‘therapist’ as the meaning? Not him, evidently. He ran his hand along his jaw, feeling the rough growth that let him know he was a few days past time to shave. “No, but who says it like that?”

Steve

"'I'm seeing a therapist' is a pretty normal way to say that," he said before shaking his head. "Besides, you think I wouldn't have waited for your nomadic ass for even longer than I did?" Steve had to laugh. He never would have noticed if he hadn't paused to think of it.

Bucky

“You said you were seeing someone named Jonathan Crane. There was no therapist attached to the first statement.” Just so they were clear. “Jonathan Crane could be our new neighbor, for all I know.” The new Greg. Steve hadn’t liked Greg, Bucky hadn’t been real keen on Jonathan Crane in those first five seconds.

Steve

"The point, knucklehead, is that I wouldn't be seeing anyone any other way." He rolled his eyes before shaking his head. "So I didn't even think about if it sounded any kind of weird.."

Bucky

Bucky let it go and reached for his partly-spilled tea again. “Yeah, yeah. So...does he seem like a good guy?” Because Bucky had got very different impressions even in one session from different therapists. He’d known Linda Martin wouldn’t work out before the hour was even up.

Steve

“He seems... well he seems like a good therapist. I’m not too sure I would hang out with him, because it seems kinda awkward? But he listens. And I think he helps. Haven’t been too many times yet.”

Bucky

“Pretty sure hanging out with them usually isn’t the criteria anyway.” Rachel had been a vampire. He didn’t hold people to very specific personal standards. “How many times have you gone?” Bucky hadn’t been great at keeping appointments in the beginning, but Steve wasn’t him.

Steve

“Once a week. I think three now.” He was pretty sure. “It was right before Halloween that I started. Part of the reason that Clint and Nat managed to get me out was because of Crane.” Thus far, everything seemed to be on the up and up.

Bucky

“You wanna tell me about it?” He wouldn’t push. Steve had ended up quite involved in sessions with Rachel, but that was a different situation, different circumstances, different problems and treatment. He was plenty willing and capable to just let him have privacy with it.

Steve

"Just now there isn't too much to tell. We're just figuring things out, you know?" He would not really keep it from him. Steve didn't need to, but he didn't have too much to report just yet. "When something significant happens, I'll let you know. Right now he's still trying to feel me out I think."

Bucky

“Sure, yeah. Well...I hope it helps, Stevie.” Bucky didn’t think that his own experience was the universal one, and in the end it had nothing to do with Rachel, really. His decision to pull back was because of himself, not because of a poor job done on her part. He knew that plenty of people, maybe even the majority, found it to be incredibly helpful. And he had, at times. She’d managed to give him, give them, back many, many good memories he might’ve never been able to recover on his own. He still used some of the techniques she’d taught him. He wasn’t going to begrudge Steve seeking out a therapist for himself. “I really do.”

Steve

"I guess we'll see, right?" He shook his head. "I just took a chance, you know? He's newer to town and he doesn't really know anything about us, you know? Which is... different for me. And easier in a lot of ways. I always kind of thought that it would be hard for me to go to therapy because people can open a paper and see my face and think they know me." He shrugged. Steve had signed up for a lack of anonymity when he had agreed to be Captain America so many years ago. But it didn't mean that it wasn't ever hard.

Bucky

Bucky was all too familiar with the notion that anyone (or everyone) he met already thought they knew enough about him to pass a judgement. He remembered how many had been willing to do exactly that while the trial was going on. He didn’t even blame them, really. He’d been prepared for the jury to be full of people like that, too. The feeling has lessened as time went on, but what Steve was saying definitely wasn’t unfamiliar. “Guess that’s why you can’t get therapy from somebody you know, right? They’re always going to be biased, at least a little.”

Steve

"Yeah, that's the idea. Or someone who knows you. Because if they know you, they probably know me by extension, right?" He shook his head. "I just want to give it a fair shot. The only perception of the whole thing that I have is your experience, you know? Hoping to find my own and draw my own conclusions." To his mind,  Rachel could have been helpful if it weren't for how everything had started to go bad. He didn't know if she ever would have been the right fit for him, though. And then she had left the city shortly after everything with the riots, so he supposed he never would know.

Bucky

“I never wanted to stick you with my perception of anything.” It was bad enough most of the time that he had it, all things considered. Bucky tried not to damn things, anything, for other people just because of his own experience. He’d never been a judgmental person. How could he be? If Steve thought otherwise, that was unfortunate.

Steve

"That isn't what I meant, Buck. I just meant that I had no experience otherwise." He didn't think Bucky had done anything he didn't think was the right call. And that was all he could bank on, right? Bucky had decided that it wasn't his path out, but Steve didn't begrudge him. He just didn't know anything but that one lens of therapy and then what little Sam had told him. He was looking to make his own experience.

Bucky

“Well I’m glad you told me, even if you gave me a damn heart attack doing it.” I started seeing someone. Christ. Steve was too good sometimes. Bucky went back to his tea and nudged the side of Steve’s leg with his foot. “Jerk. I can’t believe-“ he snorted and shook his head, pitching his voice to mock Steve’s, “His name is Jonathan Crane.” Bucky shifted to sit up a little straighter. “Jonathan Crane got real close to having his ass kicked.”

Steve

"If you saw Jonathan Crane, I don't think you'd be worried at all, Buck." He scoffed. "Besides... you know you're the only fella for me, dummy." He reached out to catch Bucky's hand before bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Bucky

“Better be.” Bucky wasn’t actually a possessive kind of person, though there was doubtlessly a jealous streak somewhere, but he’d certainly not liked the implication even within his own mind. “That all you wanted to talk about?”

Steve

"Here I am trying to flirt and you're being jealous." He rolled his eyes before sipping his tea. "Unbelievable, Barnes." Steve knew his jealous streak was even worse than Bucky's if the scratch on the dining room table was any testament, but he was only playing with him.

"Yeah," he answered. "I just figured I ought to tell you, you know?"

Bucky

“Could be jealous flirting.” It hadn’t been, originally, but he could certainly reorient. He was happy with being wrong in his knee jerk assessment. 

“I’m glad you did.” Even if it ended up that Steve wanted to keep the whole experience private beyond that, Bucky was glad that he’d told him and that he’d taken some kind of step for himself in general. Steve never had needed the same kind of push to get going that he often did.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Phases of Love: Ludus

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A simple story of how you and Steve Rogers came to love each other indefinitely.

Philia - deep friendship | Ludus - playful love | Eros - sexual love | Pragma - longstanding love

A/N: short series. so i will NOT be doing tags!

Warning: implications of intimacy issues (aka leilani is projecting again.)

Steve was going to take you out to lunch/dinner once the mission was over and the new week started. However, a big storm hit New York and he knew that you didn’t like going out while it rained. Therefore, he decided to make you dinner. 

The day was spent entirely with you, however. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, you and Steve decided to spend nearly minute with each other. It felt...natural. It felt like any ordinary day with your best friend, but with a little more. 

Steve was more touchy with you. His fingers would often graze yours. There was a sense of confidence in his touch yet anxiety. It wasn’t until you laced your fingers with his, that he felt more confident with the closeness he had with you. 

“Can I...tell you something?” you asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” he shot you a crooked smile, sending some of your worries away.

“I...I’m not entirely sure about this...about us. I don’t...I don’t know how to describe it. I guess, what I wanna say is that, I don’t want you to fully commit to me while I don’t even know how I feel.”

“Does this has anything to do with me specifically?” Steve asked cautiously.

You bit your lip, “A little bit, but it’s mostly me. I have...issues..that haven’t been resolved within myself and I don’t wanna push you away ‘cause of them, but you never know. I don’t wanna hurt you, Steve, you’re my best friend, it’s just, I don’t know how to do this. This couple thing.”

You watched as he slowly gave you an understanding nod, “I understand, Y/N, if...if you wanna keep it casual. We can. I don’t wanna force you into something you’re not ready for. But you should know that no matter what, you’ll always be my best friend.”

“You’re okay with casual, sorta uncommitted dating?”

Steve lightly squeezed your hand, “I’d rather have you like that than none at all.”

You blew out a breath of relief, “That’s-okay-that’s really good to hear, Steve.”

“C’mere,” he pulls at your hand and you fall forward into his arms. He wraps them tight around you, his adoration and warmth projecting off him and onto you. You can’t help but smile. Steve was just a great guy.

_________________________

Despite Steve insisting that he’d make dinner for you, you both ended up working together to make dinner. Steve worked on the chicken and mashed potatoes while you worked on the veggies and salad. It was a crazy experience because you and Steve were dancing around each other trying to find different knives, using each other’s seasoning, and jumping back and forth from your different dishes. If one didn’t know any better, it looked like you were doing a football play. To make it even “worse” FRIDAY was playing yours and Steve’s pump up jams that you’d listen to while in the gym. Another One Bites the Dust was currently playing. You took Steve’s potato masher and started using it as a microphone. 

As you sang, he watched you with a softness in his eyes. You stared back at him, swaying your body to the beat of the song, pointing to him with the lyrics:

“And another one gone and another one gone. Another one bites the dust!”

He leaned forward, grabbing your hand and twirled you around. A giggle erupted from your lips and Steve’s stomach fluttered. He loved hearing you giggle. 

For a moment, you two forgot about the food. You both danced in each other’s arms, laughing and enjoying the closeness you had with each other. 

When he pulled you flush against his chest and stared deeply into your eyes, an uneasiness came over you. You know what he was doing wasn’t bad, but with the issues you had, it made you...uncomfortable?

Steve, realizing this, immediately pulled away, “Sorry.”

You shook your head, “Don’t be. It’s..It’s my fault, honestly. I’m..broken.”

“You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re perfect.” he said with sincerity. 

You cleared your throat, shooting him a smile, “Thanks, Stevie.” you glance back at your unattended dishes, “We should get back to the food.”

He nodded, “Right.”

______________________

You and Steve sat across each other at the dining table. He scooped out some salad onto his plate. There was still that uneasiness from earlier. Steve wanted to give you ease, so he brought up the first thing to come to his mind.

“Bucky has a cat.”

Your head snapped up and your eyes went wide, “WHAT?!”

“Yeah, he found a stray kitten while he was out. He couldn’t bare to leave it alone, so he brought it home with him.”

“And he’s keeping it here?!” He nodded and a smile broke out, “Oh my gosh! I wanna see it! What kind of cat? What’s its name?!”

Steve chuckled, “It’s white and his name is Alpine. Bucky calls him Al for short. He’s been hiding him from Tony for two weeks now.” Steve took out his phone and showed you a picture Bucky sent him of Alpine sleeping on Bucky’s head.

“That’s sooo cuuute!” 

“I know. Buck’s taken a real liking to him. They’re good for each other.”

Steve continues to watch you as you look down and fork some of your chicken into your mouth. When he looks at you, he feels...good. Better than he’s ever felt in a while. And he likes this feeling. He just hopes you’ll learn to feel this way towards him too. 

Eros - sexual love

[rantingpaiges-blog]

Hey y’all I’m not exactly new here but this account sure is, but i only made this account specifically to rant about shit that pisses me right the fuck off. 

This blog is specifically for rants so if you don’t like rants then you don’t need to be here sweets- have a nice day :p

so anyways yeah i’m gonna start off this blog with an intro and a rant that happened not too long ago- so if you wanna keep reading go on ahead!

So its called "RantingPaiges" because well- ranting- and also pages-> paiges

ye- jokes ha ha funny

i will swear in these rants so if y’all don’t like that you may also move on yee yee- this is just how i express myself sweetly. UWU thanks-

so boom- new blog- hi, how are ya?

I wont say anyone’s names- I wont tag anyone- this is purely anon- no exposing- no witch hunt bullshit

A N O N Y M O U S

~tah dahhhhhh~

thanks for coming by! now onto the first rant-

alright so, this literally happened just a few moments ago, before making this blog. 

I have this friend, that sometimes likes to make shit up, and tell lies and try to justify their lies by adding on more bullshit to them to make themselves look “correct” when i try and tell them what they’re saying doesn’t make any fucking sense.

they brought up drawing tablets. we both like to draw, and i have a Wacom tablet named “silly” and shes just the best tiny tablet I’ve ever had and i love her. 

They brought up the tablet with “HEY DID I TELL YOU I MIGHT BE GETTING A TABLET?” cool. (also keyword here is *M I G H T* just keep that in mind ;))

 i asked right away “what brand is it?” because the brand is usually a strong saying on whether the tablet is actually a GOOD one- OR NOT!

they respond to that with “honestly i don’t know the brand”

“okay then hopefully its a good one though..” i say back.

to which they respond with, “It’s a really good tablet- i used it before, but i wear out the pen tips really fast”

okay quick question: HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU “MIGHT BE GETTING A TABLET” NOT KNOW THE BRAND NAME, BUT HAVE ALSO USED IT BEFORE YOU’VE EVEN GOTTEN IT?

OKAY DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? 

THEY D O N T HAVE THE TABLET BUT THEY HAVE USED IT BEFORE, BUT EVEN IF THEY’VE U S E D I T B E F O R E THEY DON’T KNOW THE N A M E. 

W H A T.

After fumbling around that for a solid 3 minutes like ‘what the fuck do you mean M=MC^2 8+5=10′ i just continue on with why TF their pen tips don’t last long, cause- you’re probably pressing too hard on the tablet and hurting it you dweeb.

after googling it real fast and seeing how long people say their pen tips last before they change them, I say: “if your pen tips wear out really fast you’re pressing way to hard on the tablet, sure its cool to mess around with the pressure thing with the pen, but there’s no reason to murder your pen by pushing down on the tablet hard. they’d last longer if you use light pressure"

to which they respond with: "Look I used light pressure but I draw a shit ton... Like my time I used it I fucking wore out entire tip because I just went from one project to the next "

Okay- back to the whole they’re PROBABLY GOING TO GET THE TABLET. THEY- WHAT I THOUGHT THEY SAID- D O N T H A V E I T Y E T. BUT THEY'VE BEEN USING IT-? OKAY- THEN- WHAT-THE- FUCK.

to which I ignore that fact and say, after once again searching around to make sure: "that doesn’t make any sense. if you use light pressure your pen should last longer. if they last up to like 6-15 months then its fine but if they barely last as long as 5 you’re doing something wrong."

which- maybe makes sense- right? i say 6-15 months because from what ive read around some people don’t change their for YEARS, or some people change them every 4-6 months, which could also be just preferred by the tablet user themselves- so i just ranged it around there. and depending on the use of it- which i highly doubt they use a tablet as much as they say they do because they draw on paper or their phone all the time from what i’ve seen. the PRESSURE <- they use on the pen, and/or the tablet itself is rough- okay then yeah. sure bud.

to which they respond to me with: "You do realize that my pen tips were half priced and were knock off right-? My one friend *name* told me the same thing and I gave her one of my pen tips-- to use (brand new too) and she used half of it just sketching and she was really light on her pen too"

OKAY YOU----

A) DIDN’T TELL ME THEY WERE KNOCK OFF

B) STILL HAVEN’T GOTTEN THE TABLET FROM WHAT YOU TOLD ME AT FIRST

C) SAID YOU’VE NEVER HAD A TABLET BEFORE SO WHY WOULD YOU BUY NIBS?????

THIS 👏HUMAN 👏DOES 👏NOT 👏MAKE👏 ANY 👏FUCKING👏 SENSE 👏WHAT 👏THE 👏FUCK 👏

OKAY ANYWAYS-I RESPOND WITH: "no you didn’t tell me that that explains that then. knock offs aren’t the greatest thing in the world, which is why its just better to get well known and highly rated brands. and if they’re too expensive, then holding off until you have a job would be better and save you annoyance of terrible pens. that’s what I did."

some knock offs can be good, sure, but from what they’ve said to me this alleged "knock off" isn’t good. i used to draw on my phone because i didn’t have money to spend on a tablet, so i just decided to wait until i had a job so i could save up money so I could get a computer and a tablet- which i mentioned before, is amazing and i’m so happy with her- so i could have a better experience drawing than up and getting a shitty tablet i wasn’t sure worked or didn’t know the brand. unlike this human. 🤔🤔😒

and their response was a voice recording so i’m gonna listen and copy down what they say rather than copying and pasting like i’ve been.

they say: “honest to god my tablet was a knock off, cause i had a brand picked out but the fucking name brand *blubber i don’t understand* so it was a name brand- and.... *pause* it cost 100 bucks originally and my grandparents i gave them the money and the refused to get the 100 dollar one and made me get the knock off which was 50 bucks *pause* it still works really nice. *stops to read what i just sent them* I-I CANT GET A JOB. *laughs* I’M NOT THE LEGAL AGE TO GET A JOB NOW. *laughs more*”

OKAY OKAY LISTEN. 100 DOLLARS IS FUCKING CHEAP IF YOU DON’T MIND ME SAYING. PLUS THEY HAD THE FUCKING MONEY TO GET THIS SO CALLED “NAME BRAND”-TO WHICH THEY STILL DIDN’T TELL ME THE FUCKING NAME- AND I SAID TO THEM ITS BETTER TO W A I T UNTIL YOU GET A JOB AND S A V E UP MONEY TO GET A TABLET YOU WOULD KNOW WOULD WORK BETTER THAN A KNOCK OFF WHICH YOU’VE ALREADY SAID IS SHITTY WITH THE PENS BUT IS STILL GOOD-? W H A T

ONCE AGAIN:

YOU SAID YOU M I G H T BE GETTING A TABLET, ONCE AGAIN, YET YOU BOUGHT IT- AND YOU WILL HAVE IT???? BUT YOU WONT HAVE IT BECAUSE YOU  M I G H T??? YOU HAD MONEY FOR A NAME BRAND TABLET- BUT YOU WEREN’T ALLOWED TO GET IT FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON? SO YOU INSTEAD BOUGHT A KNOCK OFF TABLET THAT WAS HALF THE PRICE, BUT FROM WHAT I’VE BEEN TOLD BY YOU, IT WOULD’VE BEEN BETTER TO TRY CHANGE YOUR GRANDPARENTS MIND TO GET A TABLET THAT YOU’RE GOING TO BUY WITH YOUR OWN MONEY- BUT AT THE EXACT SAME TIME YOU ALREADY HAVE THE TABLET AND HAVE BEEN USING IT TO FINALLY FIGURE OUT THAT THE TIPS DON’T LAST VERY LONG- W H AT? PL EA SE H E L P M E-------

TO WHICH THEY, THEN, RESPOND WITH: “i really need to get name brand stuff just the thing is is that i’m completely broke (<- YOU JUST SAID YOU HAD MONEY) and i cant get a job” 

A) YOU HAD MONEY TO GET A SUPPOSEDLY “NAME BRAND” TABLET- YOU CLEARLY SAID IT TO ME. 

B) I DIDN’T SAY YOU ABSOLUTELY HAD TO GET A JOB AT THIS VERY SECOND AND START SAVING UP MONEY IMMEDIATELY- N0- I SAID TO WAIT TO GET A JOB (BY WAIT I MEAN WHEN YOU’RE OLDER BECAUSE YOU’VE REPEATEDLY SAID TO ME THAT YOU’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH BEFORE THIS CONVERSATION) BEFORE WASTING MONEY ON A SHIT TABLET THAT THE PENS DON’T APPARENTLY LAST VERY LONG WITH EVEN THOUGH YOU APPARENTLY USE LIGHT PRESSURE, SO YOU END UP WASTING MONEY THAT YOU SAID YOU DON’T HAVE ON NIBS TO CHANGE ALL THE TIME BECAUSE THEY DON’T LAST VERY LONG-WHICH S T I L L DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE-  SO WHAT THE FUCJK IS HAPPENING WHY AM I TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT- YOU’RE MOST LIKELY LYING AT THIS POINT REEEEEEEEEEEEE????????????

AND I STOP TALKING TO THEM RIGHT HERE CAUSE THEY’RE JUST GONNA KEEP TRYING TO JUSTIFY THAT THEIR TABLET IS STILL GOOD WHEN THE TIPS DON’T LAST- AND GO OFF WITH RANDOM UNKNOWN STORIES- AND SAY THEY HAVE THE TABLET-WHEN THEY’VE ALSO SAID THEY*KEY WORD* M I G H T BE GETTING A TABLET STILL. 

OKAY 

OKAY

IF SOME HUMAN READ THIS WHOLE THING TAHNK YOU- IF YOU CAN SOMEHOW CLEAR THIS WHOLE STUPID THING UP THEN THAT WOULD BE F A A A A N TASTIC- 

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

[radicaltimesnews-blog]

Beer talk: Surf Curse (CA, USA)

Californian band Surf Curse are on their first tour in Europe and they haven’t forgotten about Czechia. Their show in Skatepark Štvanice blew mine and almost 200 more heads away.  After the concert, I’ve talked with the core of Surf Curse and cute short girl Lauren, who’s joining them on this tour. We’ve sat down for like an hour and managed to discuss all kinds of topics, from funny ones to deep ones.

Nick (the drummer): This is the voice of Nick Rattigan. Jacob (the guitarist): This is the voice of Jacob Rubeck. Lauren (the guitarist): This is Lauureeen.

Have you ever played a skatepark before?

Nick: No, first time.

How was it?

Jacob: It was a lot of fun, I wish more people would have stayed skateboarding during our show. It’s understandable though because of the dark.

Everyone actually went to watch your show.

Nick: It’s true, they just stopped and went down, awesome.

Jacob: We loved to be the soundtrack to skateboarders. That’s kind of how we started, our music’s been in skate and snowboarding videos. I guess it somehow fits, especially the early stuff.

You get inspired by movie soundtracks a lot, don’t you?

Jacob: More from films than anything else. It’s weird, cause everyone’s like what’s the most influential band and stuff and I always say that from the beginning it was bands like Wavves and the whole garage-rock scene, but it changes so fast for us. We didn’t really wanna be a part of that culture and just ended up getting more inspiration and song ideas from films.

When people look your music up on the internet, they may end up thinking that you’re a two-piece band, but you usually play live shows with third person, a second guitarist. How so?

Jacob: We only started doing that recently, with release of the latest record Nothing Yet, so it was in January 2017.

Is there someone else on the record apart from you and Nick?

Jacob: We recorded everything ourselves, Nick did most of the secondary instruments like synths. We just sat in a room in North Hollywood in the back of our friends’ parents house.

Nick: We also recorded the first two albums there, so we ended up working with him for third time.

Jacob & Nick: His name is Andrew James McKelvey!

Nick: And he’s an amazing producer and sound engineer. We recorded the first two albums in two days time, we recorded the instruments in a day and the vocals in a day. We tried to do the same this time, but we just kept coming back and adding things, so that’s why the album has a lot of different sounds.

Jacob: We wanted to do something that’s a lot more interesting.

Do you feel like you’ve matured over time considering the sound of the latest album?

Nick: Absolutely. We’ve also made an effort to mature the music. We’ve both been through so much… so much life and shit over the past few years.

When we heard Nothing Yet for the first time, a friend of mine noted: “Where’s the sun drenched-vibe of Surf Curse, it’s more melancholic now”…

Nick: I think that melancholy is a good way to describe it, yeah. I mean, if you ask us what our music sounds like, it’s always one of the hardest questions to answer. A lot of the old stuff was very fun and sweet. We were like nineteen, writing all these songs in our basement in Reno and then we just got hit with a lot of life experience and all sorts of things. I guess that’s why we tried to communicate a deeper meaning or something more heartfelt and emotional in our music.

Who are the TELE/VISIONS, Nick?

Nick: Oh yeah, it’s like a completely different band than Surf Curse. Surf Curse are always me and Jacob doing things together, TELE/VISIONS or Current Joys has always been my effort to experiment with music and pushing song-writing skills.

Do you play the drums as well in other bands?

Nick: I’m not a drummer in TELE/VISIONS, I play the guitar there. Current Joys are just my solo project.

Which sound is closer to your heart, the sunshine-filled Surf Curse or darker TELE/VISIONS?

Nick: That’s a difficult question. They’re obviously different. I’m definitely more melancholic than I used to be in the early days. Music is just all about the emotions, your emotional states and those change constantly with age and years. So I think it’s a constantly evolving thing with both of the bands, but it’s ultimately just to be as true and honest to ourselves as possible. It’s hard to really place where I am now or where I was before, but I hope the music speaks for itself.

And what about Casino Hearts, Jacob?

Jacob: Ohh, that’s overwidth now. I stopped doing that, but I have a new project called Gap Girls. It will come out eventually, there’s only one song available online at this time.

Were Casino Hearts your solo project?

Jacob: Yeah, it was just me recording songs in my bedroom, kind of experimenting with guitar and writing these weird-ass pop songs. I stopped doing that when I moved from Nevada. If I ever write songs in Nevada, it’s gonna be Casino Hearts, but if I’m anywhere else, it’s gotta be something new.

I’ve also heard that you’re more of a drummer than a guitarist, Lauren..

Lauren: Did you hear that from my dad?

I don’t wanna give up my sources, but.. yeah, I spoke to him before. (Lauren’ dad was also here tonight, at the concert)

Lauren: He always says that, because it was his dream to play drums, so he’s always seen me as a drummer, but I don’t think I consider myself mostly as a drummer. I like playing everything, but I probably like playing guitar more than playing drums.

How come you’re on this tour with Surf Curse anyway?

Lauren: I came onto this tour like 5 days before the tour, because I lost my job the same day their old guitarist had to drop out. These guys are good friends of mine. First time I actually saw Surf Curse play, it reminded me so much of the time when I was in high school and saw No Age play, the same energy and it was really nostalgic, so I’m really happy to be here.

Nick: She also makes music apart from Surf Curse, that’s really great.

What’s that band called?

Lauren: I shouldn’t say, cause I’m working on a new thing right now. It’s called The Who.

How’s the tour so far? Do you ever get tired?

Nick: This is our first four week tour ever, it’s been great –     

Jacob: We were gone for a month and a half in US once, but we only played like 7 shows. Here in Europe we have a show almost every single night, we’ve only had two or three nights off.

Nick: Yesterday for example we played in Kreuzlingen, Swiss/German border. There’s a town of Constance on the German side and there actually were more people from Germany than from Switzerland. Today we drove for 6 hours to get here.

What’s the festival you most enjoyed playing?

Nick & Jacob: COACHELLA!

Nick: No, not at all. Honestly this tour has been so great for us. Because in US, we started playing bigger venues and this has been a lot of small bars, that are really packed and intimate. Personally I can say I feel a lot of love and genuine emotions and also a lot of energy and catharsis when playing these shows, which is quite beautiful. Some of them have been my favorite shows to play, all these strange towns that we never thought we’d play in. It’s very different than playing in the States.

Now, I know it’s your first time playing in Czechia, but have you been in Europe before?

Nick: Never ever, it’s the first time across this ocean for both of us.

What does it feel like, playing overseas?

Nick: Very different. I mean, we’re in divergent cultures and lifestyles every night, which is much different than in the US, where you’re just playing a different state every night, which is sort of the same think-tank. Here you cross borders every day. We’ve been to Spain, France, Switzerland Czech republic and took a ferry to the UK, which is a completely different world.

Jacob: I’d say it’s overwhelming, cause you’re surrounded by different environments all the time and being here forever and you’re just like: “Wow, so this is actually real!”

How surprising do you find it that people actually know you?

Jacob: Feels great, there’s people coming up to us saying: “We never thought you’d come here.” That’s the sickest thing ever.

Nick: Yeah, they’re like: “We’ve been listening to you since the first demos you released.” We printed around 30 of these shirts back in Reno, when we started the band. And this girl in Belgium had one of the shirts on at the gig. It’s so unbelievable.

Jacob: That goes back all the way to the times, when we first put our music up on Tumblr. It feels awesome that some people experienced the beginnings with us.

I actually remember that you were the first band ever, whom I sent money for an album through Bandcamp. It was probably like 5 bucks, haha. Do you guys wanna Make America great again?

Nick:  Ehmmmmm, no. We wanna make garage punk great again.

Jacob: (laughing) No, cause America’s never been great.

Nevada or California?

Jacob: I enjoy a lot of things about California, but I think I’d like to move back in Reno later in my life. I’d never move back to Las Vegas, where we both grew up. We both then lived in a bunch of places, but I think Reno is kind of where my heart is, as far as where I feel safe and comfortable. But you know, after being on the road for so long, I don’t really want stay in one place. Once you experience the rest of the world, you just wanna keep exploring and experiencing more. There’s the whole world out there.

Many of the good bands we know are from California and Nevada. It’s like all the bands are from the same place. Why do you think it’s like that, what does make these places so special?

Jacob: Well, there’s like an obsession with surf culture, that fucking good weather and it’s really quite a magical place. I mean, a lot of garage, surf-rock or Burger Records bands are not from California, they’re from all over the place, but everyone just ends up in California anyways, cause that’s where the scene is.

Yeah, I guess they must be influenced by Californian scene from their beginnings. I remember when we met Moonwalks, we thought they’re from Cali and they’re actually from Detroit.

Jacob: Yeah, exactly, but they live in California now. The thing is, people always say that California is the place to be, that you gotta move to California and in the end, they do. I never thought I would be living in California, but I fucking ended up there anyways. And it works, if you feel comfortable there, we’re able to see shows every night, so it’s just exciting. And there’s always new people there, so there’s always something to do. There’s just weird magic towards California, it’s like New York, there’s magic too, you always think about the CBGB stuff, Lou Reed… I feel there’s something magical and inspiring about Reno too.

And then there’s The Smell That Saved Your Life. What’s your connection to this club?

Jacob: That’s one of the DIY music venues that’s been around for almost 20 years now. And there always was a lot of people that would go there to get inspired. Our favorite bands would always play there, when we were younger.  

Who might that be, for example?

Jacob: Abe Vigoda, BARR, Mika Miko, No Age, Health and so on. I wasn’t really a musician when I went there for the first time, but I loved music so much I had to go. I was like 18 and I never got to experience these shows before, cause in Nevada almost every venue is 21 plus. In Nevada I got to interview bands. I never saw them play, but I got to talk to them, which was awesome. Then I told Nick about The Smell and we eventually went to 14th anniversary show and it was insane.

Nick: We went for No Age, but every band that played that night blew us away. We drove back home from that show and all we talked about was starting a band so we could play at The Smell and do what these other bands were doing. And eventually, in between school, on a weekend, we got a chance to play there. I was so scared to go down to L.A. and play show for the first time, but we then kept coming down more and more. People started to think we’re from Cali, but we had to drive 9 or 10 hours to play at The Smell.

Jacob: It’s really such a special place. They’re tearing it down pretty soon and they’re replacing it with a parking garage. That’s quite tragic. They’re trying to relocate it.

It’s not gonna be the same, is it?

Jacob: Who knows. These DIY venues like The Smell are never meant to last that long anyway, it’s kind of in the nature of what they are. It happens, but then new venues are opened, new people come. New good chapters begin, I think that’s the way of life is.

Nick: There’s always new potentials with the venues, just look at the skatepark here. Trends are kinda made to die and be reborn again, then it keeps things fresh and interesting. There’s always an attitude that exists in people and youth that’s gonna exists beyond any geographic location.

Since you studied journalism Nick, when it comes to life goals and stuff, are you really just killing your time?

Nick: (laughing) Well, I don’t think we’re just killing our time and doing stuff that’s meaningless. It may be a cool thing to say, but you know, I don’t wanna sound pretentious or anything, but I think what we’re doing is quite an important thing. Bringing people either joy or sadness or same sort of release or empathy or whatever. Whatever we can give people with what we do is one of the most important things that life has to offer.

What are those important things for you?

Nick: Music or any form of art. I think that it’s a shame that music or any other form of entertainment is seen just like a radical, crazy thing to do with your life. I really think it’s quite important and it gives some people a reason to live.

Jacob: It takes a lot to get to a point, where we can just make music. We know that it won’t last forever, but as long as we can do it, it’s very important and we’ll do it for as long as we can.

There’s a new law in Czech republic which says that you cannot smoke in clubs. What do you think about that and why?

Nick: Smoking kills. It’s been a thing in America a while ago, you also can’t smoke in bars or clubs. Jacob: Except for Vegas.

Nick: What’s crazy about it is coming to Europe and seeing these horrific images on all of the cigarette packages.  

There’s just a baby with a cigarette on this one.

Nick: (smiling) I know there’s just a little baby, but there’s also these realities of smoking, that are gross. I think that there’s this giant global effort to warn people that smoking is bad, but there’s still this culture of cool behind it and people do it anyways. It’s slowly taking peoples’ lives, it’s making people die younger –

Jacob: It’s your choice too.

Nick: Yeah, it’s your choice, whatever. But I mean, I don’t smoke, it’s interesting from an outsider’s perspective. It almost feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode, with people inhaling the smoke with packages that show: “This is gonna cause you harm,” but it’s still kind of ignored, cause it’s seen as a globally accepted social function..

Well, from what I’ve heard, smoking is the most classy way to commit suicide. Thank you for the interview, guys.

Surf Curse: Cheers!

                                                                                                                         AR