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downtherabbithole-tumbleedition · 6 months

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Momento Mori, Momento Vivere

A Tom Riddle x OC Fanfiction

Remember you must die, so remember to live.

'Til death do we part'. For how long should such a vow be honoured? Through thick and thin, sickness and in health... but what about when her husband turns into the most sinister Dark Lord wizarding Britain has ever seen? What about when death is no longer an option for her?

What if she has to choose between the boy she raised and the man she swore to always love?

(Cross posted on A03)

It didn't take Sabrina long to decide immortality was a twisted, haunting thing. Perhaps the idea of it was appealing; living forever in the prime of your life, an untouched form of art immune to time itself... to be the very thing men waged wars over. But it should have remained an idea, a hypothetical, an untouchable wish. Would she curse such a reality on her worst enemy?

There were perks to it, of course, it wasn't so sought after for nothing. Sabrina remained perfect, pristine, barely a wrinkle in sight, her hair as shining as it always had been rather than painted white by the cruel truth of time. Those around her spent galleons upon galleons on spells, charms or potions to undo what time had done to them, to reclaim their youth, to appear even a fraction as young as she did.

A fickle and vain thing, perhaps, but she had wondered many times if she would shatter on the inside if her beauty was stolen from her. It wasn't something she had always had, certainly not gifted to her from birth... People who have been beautiful their whole lives do not know what it's like to be unwanted, so they have no fear of being ugly. But when good looks are gained through age, one grips onto them to the point of claw marks.

But no mortal set the world on fire for youth, no, they wanted to evade death himself.

That was the point, wasn't it? The only reason Sabrina was immortal was because someone decided they couldn't bear to see her die; a selfless act, one would believe, but Sabrina knew she was only alive out of pure selfishness, the refusal to grieve her.

Death wasn't evil, he was a gift. Mortals have a lifespan for a reason, after all. There is only so much loss and grief a heart can take before it breaks, perhaps it still pumped blood into her veins and kept her body functioning, but the pitiful organ had died many years before... one too many corpses, few too many smiles. Sabrina had certainly thought she was immune to death, that the news of a friend going cold could no longer pull on her severed heart strings.

But they were so young.

Lily and James Potter had been some of her favourite students - Lily with her brilliance, James with his mischief. Sabrina really did not believe herself to have a maternal bone in her body, but even she couldn't deny the tender spot the two had carved for themselves in her heart. Green eyes, wild black hair... She loved the two like her children.

And they were gone, their souls cast away from their bodies with only a simple green spell, all because of a crazed man and a stupid prophecy. Something she could have prevented perhaps, had she tried hard enough.

So, no, Sabrina did not consider immortality to be a blessing or something worth destroying worlds for, not when she had witnessed every person she had ever loved die or fall to ruin. It was a terrible, inevitable thing - better to not love at all than have your heart beaten and abused.

“Sirius Black has been found guilty of conspiring with the Dark Lord.”

That was just salt in the wound, the blood leaving Sabrina’s face quickly enough to rival a ghost. She’d thought she was going mad when Albus first told her or that he was playing some twisted joke on her, but there was not a trace of humour on the old man’s face.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Sabrina questioned him, tone drowning in disbelief, grip almost tight enough to break the delicate tea cup.

Albus was silent, no longer even sparing her glance - the old man had always been impossible to read but she figured it was either grief or guilt, granted the two often went hand and hand for the puppeteer that was Albus Dumbledore.

Sabrina fought tooth and nail to prove Sirius’ innocence, revealing every card she had available, pulling every trick she ever knew, anything to save him from such a fate. But without Albus vouching for him, it was basically useless.

There was still that horrible feeling in her stomach, that sickening sludge of guilt and mourning - a sensation she didn’t know was possible until Sirius looked at her with those grey eyes, usually so dauntless, laced with tears and fear. He’d wrapped himself around her like a child running to their mother after hearing a scary story, as if he believed she could protect him. She had failed him and lost a third child.

Sabrina didn’t want to see Albus, not after what he’d done (or failed to do), but there was still a question lingering on her tongue. Truth be told, she didn’t want to ask it; knowing would only lead her to complications and remorse, until the guilt inside of her became too much and overflowed to impulsive actions of sympathy.

Still, it had to be asked.

“What of the boy?”

Harry James Potter, only a year old and somehow the catalyst for so much tragedy. But oftentimes a catalyst is never willing to be part of destructive schemes.

Surprisingly, Albus told her the truth about Harry (perhaps that should have been her first sign that something was amiss because the man was hardly ever truthful), but she almost wished she hadn’t known. His honesty had done nothing to ease the growing rage inside of her, only adding fuel to flame.

He didn’t put up a fight when she said she wouldn’t allow Harry to grow up in such an environment, not before she ensured it was safe with her own eyes.

It wasn’t.

On the surface, the Dursley’s seemed like a lovely family. White picket fence, loving marriage, healthy son they spoiled rotten - muggles often examined things at a surface level, leaving well enough alone lest they pry into something ugly. But Vernon and Petunia Dursley held a sinister secret, and it was the screaming baby they left in the upstairs bedroom.

Sabrina wasn’t certain how such a noise didn’t alert the entire neighborhood, but she supposed the eighties weren’t so different from the forties; people swept things under the rug, ignored them unless they were right in their face. Maybe the Dursley’s neighbors willingly ignored the neglected baby boy, or perhaps they did not care enough to hear in the first place.

She lost her breath when she saw him; forest green eyes, hair as black as night… An unforgettable scar that was sure to cause him a lot of harm as he grew older.

Sabrina had promised herself she would finally harden her heart to the world, but how could she when the boy in front of her was innocent to the world, when his only crime was being born? Would she be any better than Albus Dumbledore if she simply allowed him to suffer his entire life?

Having already made up her mind, Sabrina gently cradled the boy, silently promising to never let any harm befall him.

She didn’t know how difficult it would be to keep such a promise.

#harry potter #yandere #tom riddle #hogwarts oc #hogwarts #voldemort #yandere Voldemort #yandere tom riddle #female oc #ravenclaw oc

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cat-s0ul · 11 months

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Prompt

TW: poisoning, morally grey reg, bamf reg, minor death of Walburga and Orion by a minor reg

What if 16 y.o Regulus Black to avoid taking the dark mark (because Blacks don’t bows to nobody thank you very much) runs a scheme for poisoning Walburga and Orion Black in some countryside mansion overseas during school period to avoid suspicion. But the killing happens so many months before he had calculated so he is still a minor who needs custody and the closest family member to look after him legally is Sirius (who is already of age).

Regulus isn't mad by the result of the deaths, that was the objective by the way, he is almost of age, only a few months and he is turning 17 so fighting for emancipation is not worthy and probably Sirius will look at the letter of notification and judge that he will be doing well with Kreacher at the end of the term.

Oh how wrong he was.

Sirius is mainly confused. That is a statement. On one side, it is a relief that Walby and absent Orion are gone and not treating the world with his nonsense bigotry anymore but how was that possible? They were the most paranoid people he met and according to the letter, there was no fighting just a weird heart attack for the old hag and the natural death of his father by his illness. And on another side, what the hell??? A custody notification informing him that he might be the new guardian of his brother whom he hasn't talked to properly in years less seeing him since he left Hogwarts. Sirius could ignore the situation and let his strangled llittle brother under the care of his beloved elf until he turns 17 and unlocks the Black fortune to do whatever he wants to but it's almost Yule and maybe his parents weren't the best and most affectionate people to pass the holidays but nobody deserves to be alone or worse with his crazy cousin.

Sirius was still off of himself when decides to contact the headmaster to arrange a meeting with Regulus knowing that his little brother would refuse to speak to him in Hogsmeade or anywhere to be honest except if he is called by a professor. James would make a joke about how artful he can be when wants to, Godric, Sirius wants to tell them about this mess. His friends definitely would know what to do with all this.

So there is him in the Slughorn’s office waiting for Regulus to arrive having no idea what to say. When he heard the door being opened, Sirius quit pacing to look at him.

Regulus somewhat got to be taller than him within the months without noticing each other. It's annoying. Sirius was about to say hello or something stupid before his brother cut him off with a slight scowl “Sirius.”

“Hey Reggie, long time without seeing you” Sirius tried to smile at him but the fast almost imperceptible incredulous look on the other boy's made him uncomfortable

“Why are you doing here? I was believed to meet Professor Sloughorn” How he managed to sound so boring within seconds was a mystery for the older brother. “Well, he is gone to talk to Dumbledore” Sirius shrugged. “Nonetheless some days ago, I got some impressive news I would say, not you?”

“Only you would say impressive news about the Father and Mother's deaths” Regulus huffed. “But that doesn't explain why you are here”

“Well, dear baby brother, besides that distinguished news, I got another letter which got my attention,” said, handling the custody notification. Regulus took it and opened it with a dull expression that quickly switched to an offensive one.

“No” he blurted out “I refuse to- I refuse to you being my guardian”

“Don't be too harsh” Sirius chuckled humourless “I would be worse or maybe not due to your acquaintances but your dear Bella is the other option”

Regulus shivered and Sirius put on a smug smile “Who would believe that Sirius Black is a better option for Little Reggie than Bellatrix, I hope that Mother is turning over his grave due to your reaction”

“Stop it,” Regulus uttered “I will be fine on my own”

“I don't think so” Sirius commented “You are turning 17 the next year and you will need money for your school supplies in the summer”

“That's rich of you to say,” Regulus remarked “You don't have the money nor a house since you left last year. I would rather live with the Lestranges than the Potters”

“That's not true or dear mommy don't tell you about the will of old Uncle Alphard” Sirius scowled at him “And the Potters are the best, but well, if you don't want to, we would live in the old Alphard’s flat”

“I have a home. You know it well enough 12 Grimmauld Place with Kreacher”

“Come on, Reggie. You don't like that house neither do I, I swear never put a foot there again”

“Your problem” Regulus shrugged “and I didn't agree with you having my custody. You are barely responsible enough and I would rather emancipate”

“I have never dreamed of it before”

Regulus snorted at that “Liar”

“Well it's not my fault that dear mommy and father are dead before you were of age”

“I am completely aware of that” Regulus grimaced Sirius contemplated his little brother for a while.

“What?” finally Sirius asked, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing” Regulus smirked. “And if you excuse me, I believe that I have prefect responsibilities to do”

“Wait-”

But before he would finish talking, Regulus was off of his sight. To be sincere, it could have been worse than this. There is still hope with Reg preferring him to Bellatrix. And if Regulus killed his parents, well, they deserved it.

#regulus black #sirius black #marauders era #black brothers #Regulus poisoned walburga and orion #i should be doing hw #or sleeping #angst but no angst #R.A.B #s.o.b.#hp prompts #Black brothers prompts

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k-s-morgan · 1 year

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Hi! I just wanted to say I love your blogs and I hope your doing well. I'm praying for you and the Ukaraine. Also I wanted to ask about Alana Bloom in season 3, when she suggested using Frederick Chilton as the official voice for the insulting article Graham and Lounds wrote for tattle crime to enrage the dragon do you think she set Chilton up deliberately to get him hurt or did she simply not care? After the events of season two she turned into this cold cyinic and dark person which leaves me with mixed feelings about her. (I used to love her but after what happened with Chilton I cant help hating her a little.) She didnt seem all to concerned when she brought it up and when she visited him in the hospital she was so callous to him. What are your options on that scene too? Also I'd love to know what you think of Chilton in general and his character arc would be if the show renews itself. (I'm personally satisfied with all three seasons but I'm very curious to see what happens if they manage to get a 4th season)I dont think you've written a whole lot about him I'd love to know your thoughts! Best wishes and dont stop writing!

Hello! Thank you so much <3 I’m glad you’re enjoying my metas, and your support means a lot.

I think Alana simply didn’t care - I don’t believe she set Chilton up on purpose. No one really thought that the ‘official voice’ was going to be attacked except for Will, who had a much clearer and intimate understanding of Francis’ mind. There were risks involved, so Alana was wary of becoming involved, not to mention that she is smart enough by now to know that it’s better to avoid any plans if Will participates in them. So she chose to stay on the safe side, not caring if Chilton becomes a victim but also not really expecting it.

As for the hospital scene, I agree that Alana was cold and distant. However, I think it’s a part of her own trauma. She comes across as numb to me, like a person who’s stuck in a nightmare and who’s witnessed so many horrors that they can’t bother to react any longer. I believe Alana when she says that she came to visit Chilton to remind herself of what Hannibal is capable of. Chilton adds:

Chilton: What Hannibal is capable of. What Will Graham is capable of... What you're capable of.

Alana: That, too.

His implications are 100% correct: Alana acknowledges the role Will played in this tragedy and she acknowledges her own coldness. It’s just that she blames Hannibal for all of it instead of taking responsibility directly and/or sharing it with Will. She sees Hannibal as the source of all evil that happened with them, likely thinking he infects everyone he knows with darkness.

As for Chilton himself, I really enjoy his character! I always thought he’s fascinating character because of his duality. On the one hand, he's a joke: he tries hard to be a respectable professional, but he fails at pretty much everything. He's hilariously full of himself and has a funny sense of self-importance, so his scenes are always golden. And yet, despite his overall silliness, Chilton can be very insightful. I think Chilton isn't stupid in general, he's just stupid in several specific spheres where he wants to look good. He has pretty solid intuition, but he doesn't fully know how to use it. Because of this, he has occasional brilliant insights but struggles with tying them together. He's a mess, and if he took some time to understand and listen to himself, coupled with his ambiguous views on morality, he could become someone darkly formidable.

I honestly have no idea what they might have done with him in S4-5. There was an idea of him taking on the role of Jame Gumb from SOTL due to the reference of him wanting Hannibal’s skin, and while I think it has potential, I’m not sure I’d be able to buy it. I think at this point, Chilton should be way too damaged both physically and mentally to do anything serious. I understand there is a running joke of how he can suffer in new seasons because his constant survivals are barely possible, but being burned to a crisp is definitely something he cannot easily return to. Maybe I could see him teaming up with Freddie, just doing research obsessively or writing endless versions of journals about his thoughts, feelings, and experiences caused by Murder Husbands.

#hannibal #alana bloom #frederick chilton #will graham #hannibal lecter

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kohakhearts · 8 months

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if i adjust my hyperfixation slightly to the left i can start working on the asld pokemon au again (likely won't happen anytime soon, but i have been Thinking fondly of it. it's been a MINUTE since i worked on it, like probably 2 or 3 years). i don't think i ever shared the cast's partner pokemon publicly but it is why my first best buddy in pokego was a glaceon named nerissa. anyway if you're interested we had

nerissa - glaceon: an ice type, obviously. it mostly just felt right, but i think there's something to be said about, like, her having a partner with SO many potential evolutions and choosing to evolve it into an ice type (a la having so many different potential manifestations of her magic but actively choosing to freeze it and favouring ice-based magic even after she becomes an angel and can do whatever the fuck she want, because she's Literally god now, etc.). my second option for her was froslass for the dual ghost-ice typing

poseidon - mudkip: i have no reasoning for this other than i think it'd be cute. and water type. starter pokemon and all that. they're both just little guys. i have a note somewhere that he received mudkip from ryes when he was 11, which is a cute mental image

ada - altaria. a shiny one because then they have matching golden aesthetics. its a big fluffy powerhouse that evolves from a small fluffy bird. in my head she met swablu as a kid when she found it injured and nursed it back to health, despite her mother's disdain for pokemon

emmet - lucario. ORIGINALLY, i thought to give him a fire type, but fighting fits so much better honestly. emmet's whole Thing is like...his ability to Stand Up And Fight. and a lot of his development is centred around this idea of inner strength > physical strength, so the aura pokemon feels...fitting

isobel - blaziken. similar vibes as my rationale behind emmet's pokemon, but obviously with the dual fire type too because she's well. she's got that inner flame. what can i say

avery - in the au she actually doesn't have a pokemon for most of her life, although adonis and amery do. however i believe as a nod to her ward-setting capabilities and self-destructive tendencies, i assigned her forretress

adonis - charizard. he's THAT guy

adrienne - arcanine. big fire puppy? that's literally her. in crafting this storyline i definitely began seeing parallels between her and james team rocket but you know. it's just how it is when youre rich and your parents suck and whatever

ely - milotic. a beautiful water type for a beautiful water mage. also in a way it sort of mirrors his relationship with adrienne (ok in the sense of shes like this guy fucking sucks [racist] and then "haha i guess hes kinda hot tho" in the way everyone hates feebas until it evolves, i don't know. but actually in the idea i wrote down for this he, like ada, found his pokemon buddy injured and nursed it back to health. UNLIKE ada, he set it free after - but then it came back to him after it evolved because it was endeared by his healer swag)

i also wrote down that amery has a deerling, which is fitting because of her and ada's shared spring motif, i suppose. ryes i assigned relicanth because i mean. yeah (side note: he would be OBSESSED with the regis, lmao). emerson was a piplup probably for the same reason poseidon was a mudkip. for whatever reason in this au i assigned aether and erebus ho-oh and lugia respectively, even though there are LITERALLY White and Black legendary pokemon, lmao. my mind is an enigma even i can't comprehend

also, elnora's was zorua, which is...such a good choice. kudos to past me for that one. stella was mightyena so i guess dark types run in the family

anyway, that's pretty much all i've got. i had like, ideas about legendary encounters, etc. too (OBVIOUSLY poseidon would encounter and befriend mew, it's kinda analogous to chaos right??) and i think reasonably nerissa would Have to meet giratina because like. underworld = distortion world, maybe. i also think she and articuno would make an epic duo strictly in the sense of they uh. both have wings. and ice beam. aether is like that guy in the one anipoke movie who somehow manages to trap arceus in his basement so he can cast judgement on the haters (that is not what happened in that movie. but it IS what aether would do, except "the haters" is just erebus). in my ideal world this is an au in comic form but i really don't draw that often so it'll probably never properly see the light of day. still. it's in my brain. and my notes app, apparently

#taylor.txt #asld #you WILL perceive my ocs #osa #what the fuck is my catch-all tag. one day i'll figure this out

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britesparc · 1 year

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Weekend Top Ten #559

Top Ten British Games

God save the King, yeah? Now, I’m not the most patriotic person you’ll ever meet. But there is one thing I thing the British are good at – what is, in the long history of our weird, splintered isle, is our single greatest export – and that is our culture. I don’t mean, y’know, tea and biccies, football or cricket, stiff upper lip kind of culture. No, I mean our cultural output. You could go back to legends of Arthur or Beowulf, then Chaucer, Shakespeare, Austen, Dickens; Beatrix Potter, the Beatles, Bowie, Billy Connolly; Python, Attenborough, Doctor Who, James Bond, and Harry Potter. A vast collection of world-dominating writers, artists, and musicians who have inspired and influenced probably billions of people. Even big American things like Star Wars, the Muppets, or the Alien franchise owe a huge cultural debt to the many Brits who worked on them.

And one of the big, big cultural things which we’re very good at exporting is videogames. Gaming is literally – economically – one of our biggest exports. We’ve been at the forefront of the industry since at least the 1980s, shaping the medium both with hardware (Spectrum FTW!) and software (Dizzy!). So many of the biggest and most lucrative franchises in the world owe Britain a cultural debt – most significantly, I’d say, being Grand Theft Auto and its developer Rockstar. GTA – and specifically Scotland’s Rockstar North – emerged from DMA Design, responsible for Lemmings. Big nineties developers such as Rare, Bullfrog, Core and others splintered, evolved, and spawned so many other developers and game franchises; big companies like Microsoft and Sony snapped them up, made them flagship brands in the ongoing console wars.

Yes, mascots like Mario and Sonic are Japanese; Halo, Doom, and the like are American icons. But as a small nation full of wry, dry weirdos, I think we’ve historically punched above our weight. And, basically, made a ton of great games. And these are my favourites.

Fable II (Lionhead, 2008): I’m a fan of open, accessible RPGs that allow for a great deal of player freedom and customisation, and this is just perfect. Its simple three-button combat system – magic, melee, or ranged weaponry – combined with its incredibly simple design makes just moving through the world and playing an absolute joy. Combined with this is its truly hilarious, incredibly British, Pythonesque take on a fantasy world; and beyond that, its incredible cast, from Stephen Fry to Simon Pegg. My favourite Xbox 360 game.

Perfect Dark (Rare, 2000): only just edging out GoldenEye 007 – if you want, assume it’s both of them occupying this space. GoldenEye has, I’d argue, the slightly better single-player campaign; a bit more streamlined, the nineties spy aesthetic preferable (to me) than the sci-fi trappings of Dark. But Dark remains the single greatest, most enjoyable multiplayer experience I’ve had; from supremely customisable deathmatch modes featuring bots, to its groundbreaking “Counter Op” mode where one player assumes control of the bad guys in the campaign. Funnily enough, like Fable, it’s due an imminent Xbox remake.

Lemmings 2: The Tribes (DMA Design, 1992): the Lemmings games are revolutionary puzzlers, combining tricky problem-solving with decidedly cute characterisation and animation (despite – or maybe because of – the tiny pixel-count). Gorgeous, inventive, and also full of gratuitous violence; what more could you want? Lemmings 2 is the answer, a game that expands and improves on its predecessor. The “tribes” structure allows you to play twelve different campaigns, with distinct graphics and their own move set, making it more accessible and interesting. New modes, such as practice levels, likewise offer new options to play. Basically it’s a perfect sequel. I just wish it’d get a glorious HD remaster.

Crackdown (Realtime Worlds, 2007): I’m gonna level with ya, I’ve never really gotten on with the 3D Grand Theft Autos (Grand Thefts Auto?). I’m sure if I had a PS2 twenty years ago I’d have gotten into it, but by the time I really came to them they just felt too expansive, too serious, too “straight”. Crackdown, on the other hand, embraced the freedom of a fictional city, positing you as a super-cop tackling gangs in a decidedly OTT manner. The roof-jumping gameplay is just a sheer joy, one of the first games to really make you feel like a superhero. The open structure extends to the ability to tackle the game in any order. And it’s really forgiving, with death nothing but a momentary annoyance. It’s so good, in fact, that they’ve basically never been able to recapture the lightning. Which is a huge shame.

Medieval II: Total War (Creative Assembly, 2006): I really like the turn-based strategy of the Civilization games; in fact, it’s probably my favourite game series. But whereas those games take a zoomed-out macro view of human history, sometimes it’s nice to get stuck into the nitty-gritty, and that’s where Total War comes in. For me, the game is one of development and nuance as you slowly build your empire across a map of the world (or, here, Europe and Asia); the 3D battles, though engaging, are the least of it. And that’s probably why, despite dipping into some of the later titles, I still prefer Medieval; I feel I’m crafting my dynasty the way I want. Plus the age of feudal kings feels more suited to that kind of empire-building. I’d love a Medieval III, but even more so I’d love a console version. Please?

Lego Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga (TT Games, 2022): oh man, where to begin with this, one of the most supremely joyful game series of all time? And which one game to pick? I’m not joking when I say that the most fun I had in the previous console generation was playing Lego Marvel Super Heroes on the Xbox One; it was, basically, the first game my kids ever played properly. Just joy in playing as beloved characters, the jokes and funny spins TT Games puts on the franchises they adapt; the replay factor of the levels and the accessibility of Lego itself. I love it so, so much. All in all, despite some disappointingly thin aspects of the campaign, I think the latest version is the best, distilling so much of what made the series great but improving the gameplay tremendously and updating it for the future. Plus it’s got Mando and Grogu, what more do you want?

Batman: Arkham City (Rocksteady, 2011): so sad to be talking about this after the tragic passing of Batman himself, Kevin Conroy; having him and Mark Hamill reprise their iconic roles added a level of gravitas and heft to this trilogy. Out of the three, I think this middle part is my favourite; something which oddly makes it feel like a classic superhero movie saga. But despite Arkham Asylum’s gloriously pared-down map – giving each arena a sense of depth and flair in its construction – here you had a good portion of the city given to you, enough to make you feel like Batman in Gotham but not too much to burden you with choices or unpick the tense, taught feeling of being hemmed in. Arkham Knight added, for me, too many side-quests, too much faffing about with tanks and robots; give me predator takedowns and locked rooms any day.

Forza Horizon 5 (Playground Games, 2021): a bit like Skywalker Saga, this is another one where I’m struggling to find which particular game best encapsulates a superlative series. I’ve focused on the latest one, because it arguably smooths and streamlines the tenets of the franchise, and it’s the prettiest to boot. A sprawling, scenic tour of spectacular sun-kissed landscapes (and Edinburgh), it perfectly marries a gloriously fun arcade racer with a sense of wide exploration and even adventure. Like other games on this list, I appreciate it for being very open and accessible, with lots of options for even crap players like me to enjoy themselves, whilst also providing plenty of challenges for people who are, y’know, good. Honourable mention, too, for that other venerable Xbox racing series, Project Gotham, which I also adore, but I didn’t really want two broadly-similar franchises in the list. So think of Gotham whilst you’re reading this.

Sensible World of Soccer (Sensible Software, 1994): I’m not a big football fan really, but the arcade stylings of early-nineties footie games was always appealing (before FIFA took over, really). Sensi’s combination of charming big-headed zoomed-out graphics, tight, responsive gameplay, and above all a thoroughly British sense of humour made it the king. SWOS is a hell of a sequel, expanding the game to an almost ridiculous degree, offering management options that felt pretty in-depth way back when, and loads of different game modes. My biggest enjoyment will always be creating leagues of custom teams, however. Gotham City Villains versus Ghostbusters FC, anyone?

Worms W.M.D. (Team 17, 2016): once again I have to ask myself, which version of a beloved franchise represents the whole? Well, after much deliberation I think this – probably the most recent iteration I’ve played – fits the bill for Worms, a game series I’ve massively enjoyed since the Total Wormage demo that came on a cover disk with an Amiga magazine in the mid-nineties. Again we have another common factor: humour. These games are funny, silly, and very British about it. Very Beano, very Python; daft wordplay, toilet humour, and gentle fun-poking of British tropes and traditions (how many games give your characters Yorkshire accents as an option?). And – and! – the gameplay remains strong, with a great physics simulation that means your skill and choices matter. So even if, on balance, W.M.D. is probably the best iteration of Worms, let’s face it; the good bits were there from the start. Get under that.

No adventure games, no Peter Molyneux strategy games, and no Lara Croft! What was I thinking?!

#top ten #games #gaming #videogames #britain #british #fable #microsoft #rare #worms #lemmings

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tittaexperts · 2 years

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Warped reality 2k

Warped reality 2k how to#

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Mainly because I know that as the year comes to an end, 2K will drop even more insane cards that make current cards look ancient. Is this my endgame lineup? Definitely not. My current squad is a mix of high-end, overpowered cards (auctionable + rewards), and budget-friendly beasts that I just really like playing with. card, no one would ever use it competitively.īut again, there are so many great cards that do check off the boxes I just mentioned, anyone should be able to compete and win some games, which is great. For example, I love James Harden, but at this point even if he gets a G.O.A.T. Just like every other year, the endgame is all about height, wingspan, and animations, which does unfortunately take some of the fun and strategy out of squad building. So I would never “quit MyTeam” because a certain card has dropped and the meta evolves. I have Yao, and he is probably my favorite card, but I definitely don’t win every game I play with him. Then the Warped Reality set was the point where people claimed that MyTeam was “over,” thanks to point guard Galaxy Opal Ben Simmons, Pink Diamond Bol Bol, and a 3-point shooting Diamond Sim Bhullar (which objectively was/is insane, as is the fact that he just got a Dark Matter card on Friday that is even better).įrom there, it really was just a hop, skip, and a jump to get to Invincible Yao Ming, who is probably the best card in the game now, though with Sim or opal Shawn Bradley so easy to get (and so dominant in their own right), Yao isn’t as invincible as his card art would suggest. Point guard Kobe/Grant Hill started the oversaturation of tall point guards, and of course opal C/SG Durant was arguably the best card in the game for a while. I’ve been adding HOF badges to mine for a while now, and he’s basically an Invincible card.īut Out of Position 1 was where things got really silly. Looking back, I just want to go over a few content highlights that got us to where we are today.įirst up, waaaaay back in Season 6 (at least I think it was Season 6, like I said, they blur together), the Radioactive set gave us Dark Matter Tracy McGrady, who even today is an amazing card that I still use often. I think he has, what, 75 cards right now? Or maybe that’s the number of HOF badges on his most recent card? Plus, the amount of options for players of different play styles and budgets is impressive, especially if you like LeBron James. Not only that, but if I open a pack in July, pulling a galaxy opal gets a sigh and an eye-roll, which is telling.ĭon’t get me wrong, even though MyTeam is in full-blown fantasy land, I’m still having fun with the insane cards. And now in July, pink diamonds no longer exist, as every pack or reward card is galaxy opal or better. A pink diamond in June had four times the amount of hall of fame badges that the best card of the game in March had. The amount of content this year is awesome (free and paid), especially compared to previous years, but unfortunately, the cards are all at a place now where they are all basically interchangeable. Having some distance is nice, though, as it allows me to really reflect on the most memorable (and important) aspect of these MyTeam seasons, which to me is (and always has been) the content. I’ve gotten all of those rewards, and enjoyed the structure that XP brought, but I guess at some point I was expecting a new season to bring something groundbreaking - and no, Triple Threat Spotlight Sims don’t count. There’s a level 40 XP reward, which everything else orbits around, and that’s about it. NBA 2K21 MyTeam Year In ReviewĢK did a nice job of making previous seasons all feel cosmetically different, but as I think back on it all now, they still definitely blur together.

Warped reality 2k full#

That reboot is just around the corner with the release of 2K22.īut before I get into all that, I want to briefly discuss NBA 2K21 MyTeam’s Season 6 ( Glitched Reality), 7 ( Full Throttle), and 8 ( Trial of Champions).

Warped reality 2k how to#

It’s also the reason I’m going with the NBA 2K21 MyTeam year in review here with this article.īefore getting to that, I just have to say there’s just something really exciting about starting over with lower-tier cards and figuring out how to build a winning squad with flawed (aka “normal”) players. If anything, it’s quite the opposite and I’ve been going crazy these last couple of months - to the point where I’m actually kind of happy that the year is coming to an end with Season 9 (supposedly). It’s definitely been a while since my last post, but I can’t say it’s because “the mode is dead” and I stopped playing MyTeam altogether.

#Warped reality 2k

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livingwithlosingyou · 2 years

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Living with Losing You - 8/28/2022

Had an off day.

Most days recently I have been fine. If anything, I have been better than fine. I finally felt like I was really shifting to gratitude, etc. This is why grief is so complex, because you have off days, period. You can feel amazing for three days and then feel like you are emotionally spiraling out of nowhere. No trigger, just because. So, today was one of those days.

And look, I had a mostly good start to my day. Besides when I immediately woke up. I had a nightmare that I had to have another funeral for you, and hated reliving “burying you” again. I woke up thinking that you had texted me, and I quickly realized that was not the case. The dream was my reality. It sucks.

This was likely why I had off day today. But anyway, I took Sadie to her camp, and headed to North Park to meet with one of the Young Professional Church group leaders. We had a wonderful conversation, and I opened up about you and some of the things i have struggled with over the last 6 weeks (and also opened up about some of my other struggles in general). She is helping me get connected to other groups as well, and has been very encouraging. I am so glad that I found this church, and am very excited to have a faith filled community to lean on. Lord knows I need some new friends (really though, he does know). There is a bonfire tomorrow night that I am going to attend after practice, so I am pretty excited about that.

in between this meet up and church, I ran to a GF bakery that I had heard of for years, but had never been. I have to say, WOW! They had such incredible options. I still have not tried everything I bought, but i was very impressed. Maybe some of the best GF break I’ve ever had. No offense to the usually spot that I go to, but I think this one has them beat. I still love them both though, and will continue to go to both. It was nice to find a spot that you and I hadn’t been to yet, sometimes this town feels haunted by memories. I know it’s cause it’s still early, but this reminded me that I still have a lot of memories I will make on my own in this town. So many things I can experience here still.

I rushed back to church (I was a little late, sorry God lol) but the service was great. I wanted to share a quote that really stuck with me:

“The cross teaches us how to live, not only how Jesus died”.

The sermon was about us really asking who Jesus was, and how does that say what we are?

It spoke on how there is joy on the other side of the cross. The story of God is moving into the darkness toward people, and how we need to help others who are in that darkness. How we each have the holy spirit to empower us to participate in the mission of God.

This really made me think about my legacy, and it made me ask myself, how am I showing Christ’s light through my life? How am I serving God? How am UI serving the community?

After church I went home and started to play some guitar and sing some covers. I noticed I have been extremely tired since the meet on Friday, so I did end up taking a nap today which was great. I woke up, played a little more music, then went to go and pick up Sadie.

When I got home, I just still felt this looking sadness that I have honestly felt all day. Once the things that were taking my attention stopped, I found myself in the memory bag, grabbing the things we shared and holding them as tears welled in my eyes. I just miss you so much, James. And, I miss you everyday, but for some reason today it just hit me so much harder than usual.

I continued to go through things as I cried and said out life that “life isn’t fair”. It jsut feels like a nightmare that I relive every time I wake up in the morning. It’s extremely painful. I keep reminding myself that I have to continue your legacy and I need to focus on healing myself to be able to do that. I know you want me to be happy, and that you want me to do the things that bring my joy, and brought us both joy. Sometimes it’s just hard to face the things we liked to do without breaking down. That, or I just randomly break down since it’s still fresh.

I decided that I needed to get out of the apartment, so I took myself to dinner at Liberty Station. I ended up going to Stone and ordering a very yummy salad and a seltzer. The night was beautiful, it was exactly what I needed. Once I finished up, I walked into their public market. This place is SO cute. I ran into this booth that was filled with cat stuff, so naturally I stopped. I talked with the owner for a little while, and ended up going home with a baby blue ball cap that says “Cats and Money”. This was a great buy, and an overall great night. Solo dates should be normalized. Treat yourself, you deserve it.

I headed home so I could walk Sadie, and then ate an ice cream cone as I talked to Erika. I told her that it’s hard because I wish I felt you stronger, but it’s likely I am subconsciously closing myself off because it’s still all painful. It really is so painful. I still do not quite know how to even describe it unless I am putting it into a song or a poem. Even then it almost feels like I am down playing it.

I am currently sitting in bed now. Sadie is laying on her back on what was your side of the bed (but then became hers after the first time you went to rehab, and she made sure you knew it too lol). She is so cute. I really am so happy that I have Latte and her to keep me company. They drive me crazy sometimes, but most things that we love do at some point.

Anyway, I have a very long day tomorrow between work, putting together stats for practice, practice, and then the bonfire. I really need to go to bed. I also just realized that I have to do the online portion of my CPR/First Aid training before this Thursday evening. I need to somehow make time for that... I’ll figure it out.

I always tell you Good Night and Good Morning, and that I love you. I hope that you hear it, I am sure you do. I am sure you say it back in heaven <3.

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols. You were my favorite hello and my hardest goodbye.

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

In order:

1 - Cry sesh this afternoon ruining my cute makeup (I tried to blend it, but I realized that the tear stains stayed on my foundation, even at dinner. #lovethatforme

2 - The dinner with a view

3 - A screenshot from the excited video I posted on instagram

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boybaker8 · 2 years

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Glutathione Injection: An Antioxidant Shot That Promises Skin Whitening

Do you want to have fair skin with an even skin tone? Do you feel you are in the back seat due to your dark complexion and dull look? Does it affect your daily life as you are feeling less confident? If the above concern is yes, you should opt for the Glutathione injection as it helps you brighten and lighten the skin color and improves your skin texture. Glutathione injection gives you the result with a fresh, youthful, and better effect as you have always aspired for. One must remember that opting for local treatments or homemade remedies is not enough. Sometimes it doesn't work for major skin concerns, viz., brightening and lightening the face or body doesn't make it fresh and healthy from the inner layer of the skin. However, it is essential to choose those options that can give you a subtle effect with the first concern of improving the complexion of the facial skin. And Glutathione injection comes in this choice that offers you a safe, effective, and affordable solution to your skin problem. What is Glutathione: An Introduction Glutathione is an antioxidant found in the human body, naturally produced by the liver. It is also found in some vegetables and fruits like asparagus, peppers, potatoes, avocado, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, cheese, Red meat, watermelon, and Brussels sprouts. It helps in neutralizing free radicals and enhances immune function. It has a crucial role in building body tissues and their repair. But, Glutathione in our body reduces with increasing age, which affects the aging process and results in a saggy, dull, and wrinkled face. However, it is essential to maintain an equilibrium of Glutathione content in our body, and so intake of Glutathione by mouth aids in protecting us from many autoimmune disorders and skin complexion problems. Thus, Glutathione is the best natural choice for those looking for lighter, brighter, and younger-looking glowing skin. The Functions of Glutathione in the Body Include the Following: Glutathione is a detoxifying agent and free radical scavenger that aids in improving the body's immune system. It maintains the level of vitamin C & E in the body. Neutralized lipid peroxide breakdown occurs in the cell membrane. Monitors hydrogen peroxide production. What are the Benefits & Uses of Glutathione injection ? The correct form and the quantity of Glutathione Skin Whitening Injection injection help improve the complexion. Therefore, getting an expert dermatologist's advice is needed to get the best results from the Glutathione treatment. Following are the Key Benefits of the Glutathione: It is a major antioxidant that aids in fighting free radicals. Makes your skin smooth, fresh, and radiant It protects our bodies from harmful UV rays. It helps improve the signs of aging, such as fine lines & wrinkles. Glutathione injection helps in body detoxification. It improves insulin resistance in older individuals. It may help combat the autoimmune disorder The right amount of Glutathione injection helps in lowering the melanin pigmentation and converting them into lighter pigments, resulting in making the skin brighter, fairer, and more even-toned Apart from the above advantages of Glutathione, it also helps rescue our body from many health conditions such as neurodegenerative diseases, including irritable bowel, stroke, chronic fatigue, tremor, radical damage, multiple sclerosis, etc. Glutathione injections are even more significant natural antioxidants when used as a natural agent for lowering the signs of aging or premature aging complications. But, like any other medication, it also has some side effects if it is not taken in the correct amount, or in the wrong way, or without the prescription of an expert cosmetic dermatologist. The miraculous and incredible whitening injections introduced by Dr. James are known to be one of the best in today's skincare market. Dr. James Glutathione Injections can lead to significant skin clearing effects by preventing acne outbreaks and the eruption of pimples.

#Glutathione injection

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stitchbrand4 · 2 years

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Glutathione Injection: An Antioxidant Shot That Promises Skin Whitening

#Dr. James Glutathione Injections

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 3 years

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Mob bucky/seb or mob chris/andy recs??

Updated 07/04/21 ✨ = Just Added

To be added please tag me in your future works!

Hey Anon! I’m so glad you asked this because Mob/Mafia! Any version of those boys is my favorite. In my previous fic recs I recommended...

If love was an option by @mianorth » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Part 1 🦋 Part 2 🦋 Part 3

Good Little Wife & Good Little Girl by @donutloverxo » Mob!Andy Barber x Reader – A little dark and it has some really good smut in it.

Blackmail by @stargazingfangirl18 » Soft!DarkMafia Andy Barber x Female Reader — You were just doing it to protect your family, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, especially once you started to like it. (One-Shot)

Blow Sweet and Thick by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Bucky is having a bad day, you can help him feel good. (Part of Mafia Monday’s)

Run To You by @bestofbucky » Mob!Boss Bucky x Reader — Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard. (Series)

Can’t Run, Can’t Hide by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!MafiaBucky Barnes x Reader — When you get noticed by the infamous mob boss, you flee. But Bucky doesn’t like to be denied anything and he’s coming for you. (One-shot)

Six Feet | Ch.1 ⚰️ Ch.2 by @queenoftheworldisdead » Dark Mob!Steve x Reader + Dark Mob!Bucky x Reader — Your family’s small funeral home comes into financial trouble. In desperation your father finds the most unlikely solution to solve his financial problems. | (Short Series)

Bankrupt by @mypoisonedvine » dark!40’s!Mob!Stucky x Reader — Your husband’s gambling addiction quickly got him in hot water with the mob, and you by extension. When some debt collectors come by to settle what is owed, you realize that you have a lot more to worry about than money problems.

Partition by @angrythingstarlight » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky comforts you after a bad day, and your boss learns why no one messes with his girl. —> Part 2: Let Me Show You — You wanted to know what your mobster boyfriend did, lucky for you he’s more into the show then tell.

Say the word and it’s yours by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mobster boyfriend rescues you from a long, boring day at work. Bucky always said, “ask and its yours”

Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Bucky Barnes would be lost with you. You’re his everything and he plans on spending Valentine’s Day proving it to you.

All Dressed In White by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader — You were going to marry someone else, Bucky won’t let that happen. You belong to him now and forever. Till Death Do You Part.

Thick As Thieves by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Mafia!Steve Rogers — The only thing the Mafia hates as much as snitches are thieves. And you’re planning on stealing from Bucky and Steve, what happens if you get caught?

Won’t Let You Go by @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay » Mob!Bucky Barnes x OFC!Kori — Kori met Bucky in one of his clubs, out to get shit-faced with a couple of friends to forget about her worries and maybe take home a guy to further rid herself of her numerous frustrations. Little did she know that the one-night stand with Bucky would turn into so much more than that.

Tell Me What You Want by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve Rogers x Reader; Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Your mob boyfriend, is none other than Steve Rogers and he is willing to get you whatever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. And be careful what you ask for because he’s going to give it to you over and over again.

To Have & To Hold by @slyyywriting » Bucky Barnes x Mob Boss!Reader — Bucky is trying his best to provide and care for his daughter who just entered first grade. Everything was alright until she asks why everyone else seems to have a mom except for her. You’re just a plain mob boss who wants to turn a new leaf. Challenges arise when the world refuses to let you take a softer, non-violent route. A little girl helps you navigate a compromise.(series)

✨ Mob!Sugar Daddy!Stucky Moodboard by @brattycherubwrites » Mob!Stucky x Reader

✨ Laced Around Your Throat by @angrythingstarlight » Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader — Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it.

✨ Hidden Gems by @jtargaryen18 » Mob!Steve Rogers x Mob!Daughter Reader — Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

Necessary Arrangements by @stargazingfangirl18 » Andy Barber x Fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x (Different) Fem! Reader ft. Ransom Drysdale » One of my favorite series, chapters are decent sized and the smut is so good!

Hugs My Love by @thatfuckingweirdo » Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader — You just really need a hug, and Bucky is the only one you want it from.

my old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood red jam by @cloudystevie » Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader — steve gives you what you want… kind of.

Brooklyn Wars by @world-of-aus » Stucky x Reader

Petals and Bullets by @revengingbarnes » Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader (One of my all time favorites series)

I would check out @sinner-as-saint’s Masterlist they have quite a few Mob!Bucky series and one-shots that I have loved in the past.

Special by @buckycuddlebuddy » Bucky Barnes x Reader — this one-shot is really hot.

Love, Honor, and Obey by @constantwriter85 » Bucky Barnes — This one is good and I need to catch up on.

Mafioso by @captain-barnes-writes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — Please do yourself a favor and read.

Lipstick and Crayons by @oneoftheprettynerds » Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader - In Progress

A really good DarkMob!Steve Drabble called Please Hurt Me by @gotnofucks *chefs kiss*

The Mobster’s Little Girl by @smutsonian » Steve Rogers x Reader

off to the races 🐻 off to the races 2 by @harryspet » Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast by @mysterioh » Steve Rogers x Reader – With 21 parts sadly it hasn’t been updated in 8 months, it’s one of my favorite Mob!Steve Roger fics out there. *Thanks to @inactivewhore I found out this story was moved to AO3 and is now called where angels fear to tread it was last updated on 13/11/20*

What It Takes by @cherienymphe » Bucky Barnes x Reader — You left Bucky once you found out who he really is. The one thing you thought would guarantee your safety ends up sealing your fate.

Welcome Home by @punani » Chris Evans x Black!Reader — He’s been away for awhile, but he knows that his girl’s loyalty to him knows no bounds. Knows she’s been waiting for him after her adamancy in telling him there was no other option. It’s only right to make the reunion a memorable one. | So, so, so, so freaking good!

These are what I found on Tumblr that I plan on reading.

Handmaid by @extremelyblackandwhite » Sebastian Stan x ingenue!Reader — y/n works as a handmaid for the daughter of an influential mob leader who is promised to the new boss of the most powerful mob family in new york, sebastian.

AO3 Website Reccomendations

Satellite Heart » Stucky x Reader — You used to be Steve and Bucky's girl. Then they fucking left without saying goodbye. Little did they know, you were pregnant. But life went on. You raised your Talia to the best of your ability. But one day, everything goes to shit. Now your boys are back in your life. And they're not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Little Fox A/B/O Series » Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Soft!Dark Natasha Romanoff x OFC! & Peter Parker x Soft!Dark Tony Stark — So I can’t stress this enough you need to read the tags for this series and I kept getting confused as I read this story as to how old Violet Mason is. But this series takes you on a roller coaster, I like it, my cousin didn’t finish it, I need to catch up.

Pelmeni *finished* » Stucky x Reader — James Bucky Barnes has a good life, as a member of a powerful organized crime syndicate. His best friend Steve is a member too and his literal partner in crime. Bucky's got a problem though. You. His longtime love and secret girlfriend. Unfortunately, your father is his boss and has plans for you that involve normal life. Steve has a problem too. Steve wants in on your relationship and more than the semi-regular/occasional steamy threesomes. You don't have a problem, you're just busy with a big mob wedding coming up, which means a big celebration, that you're busy catering for.

Dying For This Love » Dark!Bucky x Reader — That was before. When you were Bucky’s girl. Now, you have a score to settle. That’s why you’re wearing Bucky’s favorite red satin dress, the one with the cuts that reach right up to the tops of your thighs, the tennis necklace he gifted you for your anniversary, and are fresh off of a mani/pedi and hair appointment. He’s going to regret the day he fucked with you. | This one is intense and a tad bit dark, but the smut is good.

off to the races » Steve Rogers x Reader — In which you call the kingpin your Daddy.

The Mobster’s Little Girl » Steve Rogers x Reader — what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

Brooklyn Sweethearts » Dark!Stucky x Reader — Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise. | Probably one of my all time favorite Mafia!Stucky stories I have ever read, just sadly it also hasn’t been updated in like 8 months and I keep hoping it will get updated.

Hot Doll » Skinny!MobBoss Steve Rogers x Reader — Steve Rogers is on the rise in the New York underground as you’re trying to keep your own place there. | Dark and good!

Doctor Doctor » Steve Rogers x PlusSize! Reader — (1940 Mobster AU!) You're a war widow down on her luck; and the King of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers, takes notice. | Another one of my favorites. A little bit dark as well.

The Widow » Dark!MobBoss x Reader — It’s the 1920s and everyone’s having a roaring time but you. | Trust me it’s just dark enough.

Those are just some on AO3, I would just go through Mafia AU tag and go to filter and click Avengers or Captain America.

#you ask i answer #ktk rec ‘21 #ktk rec #ktk fic rec #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky #mob!andy barber #andy barber #andy barber x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mob!steve #dark!steve x reader #stucky x reader #fanfiction recommendation #fanfic rec #mob!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan x reader #mob!chris evans

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

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...And Forever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, after TFATWS

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, lies, cursing, angst, oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, spit play rank kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), sex on a pool table, semi-public sex, a special surprise, stalker-ish behavior, almost Dark!Steve? Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it! This is the second part to Always. Enjoy!

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

You opened your eyes to see that you were in what looked like a break room. There was a coffee machine, a round table with five chairs, a row of lockers, two Captain Americas, and a Winter Soldier.

There was some strange conversation going on.

“Then who gave me the shield at the lake…?”

Sam was questioning Steve, but he stopped talking when you started moving around. You must have still been in the wedding venue, because you saw the name of the historic building on various items in the room.

You scowled up at Sam, Bucky and Steve.

You moved to sit up and Steve was at your side. “Easy…”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You squinted at Steve. His hair was shorter and he was clean shaven, but he was still gorgeous. Those blue eyes were full of concern.

You raised your hand, and he held it, holding it and caressing it as you raised it to his face.

“Is it really you?”

Steve smiled ruefully at you. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You held his cheek and looked at him, bringing your other hand up to the other side of his face. He smiled at you.

You grabbed him and hugged him hard, and then pulled back again as he held you in his arms. He moved back and pursed those ruby red lips.

You had this irresistible urge to...slap the shit out of him. And so you did.

The sound reverberated in the room. Steve just stared up at you, with that fucking beautiful face, and then smiled, rubbing his jaw as if it hurt.

But you knew it didn’t. And you were tired of the bullshit.

Sam and Bucky moved to calm you down, but you were too quick for them, pacing to the other side of the room.

“All of you can stay the hell away from me. Y’all have some fuckin nerve. Especially you, Steven.”

Your Houston accent was shining through with your anger.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that was harsh. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You pointed at Steve.

“Fuck you.”

You were seething, especially when he raised his eyebrow at your comment. But he quickly fixed his face when he saw the rage on yours. You looked at Sam, who just looked down, and at Bucky, who looked like he was in pain.

Fuck thier feelings.

“I deserve your anger. I didn't tell…” Steve tried it.

“You don’t deserve a got damn thing. Not even my anger.”

Steve was stone faced at your vitriol. You were shaking, trying to control your emotions and not cry. You were so hot. You fought to keep your voice steady.

“I thought you were dead.” It came out as a ragged whisper. But you knew everyone heard you.

Your voice was low, even, and scary. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. Your own were brimming with tears.

“I thought you were dead and that they didn’t want to tell me.”

You waved your hand at Bucky and Sam. And you waited until Steve looked you in the eyes again.

“I thought you were in prison, that someone, on some alien star, forced you to play some sick gladiator games. Or that HYDRA was still around and they turned you into an agent for them. Or that you lost your memory in the blip. So many scenarios played in my mind, Steven.”

Steve knew better than to talk. This was his time to listen.

“But I never ever once thought that you chose this. Never thought it was your choice to leave and to stay away.”

“Listen…” Sam started speaking.

“Shut the fuck UP, Samuel.”

If you had Bucky’s knives, all of them would be seriously injured right now.

“You knew that he was alive and you didn’t tell me. Despite me begging for any kind of information.”

Sam just pursed his lips and returned your glare. You were right.

You went and stood in front of Bucky.

“James…”

He looked at you, those pained eyes making your stomach flip.

“How could you? You knew?”

He just stared at you. Retreating into not speaking.

Steve spoke up.

“Yes, I left. Yes, it was my choice. I thought I could… Well, let’s just say that hindsight is 20/20 and you can’t ever go back. I swore Sam and Buck to secrecy and I asked them to take care of you. This all just got out of hand. Didn’t it Buck?”

You watched Steve in disbelief and you swiveled your head toward Bucky and Sam again.

“You both lied to me. And Sam. Did you tell Steve to come back and ruin my life?”

Sam scoffed, offended. “No. I didn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D gave Steve quarterly updates. You and Bucky happened so fast…”

You ignored his explanation.

“But you knew exactly where he’d gone.”

“Yes.” Sam was cornered.

You turned back to Bucky.

“I asked you a question earlier. Did you know?”

He nodded, imperceptibly. “Doll… I…”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You knew?” Your heart was breaking even more than it was.

“Yes, but it’s complicated. He didn’t come back, at least not the way he left, and I thought it was a done deal. I thought he found…”

You interrupted him.

“What. Happiness?”

You turned back to Steve. “Is that what you were looking for, Steve? Happiness?”

“Sweetheart, you made me happy, I just had the chance to finally settle some unfinished business.”

You nodded.

“So James here took advantage of your little vacation to get with his best friend's girl while you explored your other options. Cool.”

It was not cool.

“Do you remember when you asked me if you could trust me, Steve?”

He just gave a little smile and came to stand before you, looking down at you in that way of his. He was trying to shake you. You were unshakeable. You raised your chin and looked right in his eyes.

“What you don’t understand is that you can’t pick and choose the pieces of life that you want, Steven.”

You moved away from all of them. Steve stepped toward you, but stopped when you held up your hand.

“I’ve lived my life for everyone else, for this country, for as long as I can remember. I deserve a little piece of life, Sweetheart.”

Steve really believed what he was saying.

“What about me? Do I get a choice?”

Steve looked around at his two best friends, who were now best friends, and his best girl.

“You’re right. I think you should. You should choose.”

Your mouth hinged open. You spoke at the wall, then looked at Bucky.

“What about you, James? Do I need to choose?”

Bucky walked in front of you

“No Doll. You don’t have to choose.”

You looked up into his eyes. Damn, he looked so handsome in his bespoke grey suit that he chose for the wedding. And the tie that you gave him set off his eyes.

“I just…. I just wanted a piece of happiness too. I knew you were Steve’s girl.” He took both of your hands in his.

“I don’t deserve you. When Steve didn’t come back, and you and I connected, I couldn’t help it. I was just going to keep an eye out, but…”

He gave you that cute little side smile of his. And then he kissed you. It was short and sweet and oh so hot. You looked up at him, shook to the core. And then he ruined it all.

“I love you Doll. It was nice while it lasted.”

Bucky was giving up.

You nodded and backed away. Not believing this situation.

“Ok. I’m making my choice.”

You raised your chin and looked at Steve and Bucky.

“I’m not some fucking marble that you pass around, play with, and trade with your friend.”

You took a deep breath. “I choose me.”

You were gone in a flash, before they could even register it. And although they ran, they couldn’t catch you before you were out of reach.

-----

Three months later, you walked through the late August soup of Houston heat to the bar, pausing when you thought you heard footfalls behind you. You used your speed to zip along to Willy’s; you were safe there.

You were back sharking with the best of them. But your training was put to good use. You never got burned and you never got caught. You were making a good living.

There were a jumble of misfit super humans who had gathered there with you. You were a leader now. And you were doing well on your own. It was a life.

You already knew he was coming, and maybe that’s why you moved to the back room to play.

You were prepared, but when you felt him, you still lost your breath. But you recovered quickly, straightening your spine, despite the fact that he was standing so close to you.

You looked at the dartboard on the wall across from you and chalked your cue.

“Don’t you have other things to take care of? Other wheres? Other whens maybe?”

You learned more about time travel since you’d left New York, and you understood more of what happened.

The Avengers had access to time travel. If only you could go back… but no. You were stronger than those men. You could live with your decisions. And move forward.

“No. What I need to take care of is right here. Right now.”

His deep growl stirred something inside you, and you fought your body, which was becoming moist at his proximity.

You bent over the table, super soldier dick poking you in the ass before you drew your pool cue back sharply into his stomach. Abs of steel met the cue and nearly broke it. He just stepped aside and shook his head at you.

You turned your head to look into his aqua blue eyes and you fell in love all over again. Shit.

You gave up and turned around, leaning back against the pool table, because he wasn’t giving an inch, not moving from your space.

You scanned the room and your people were watching, but keeping your distance. They all knew who he was, and your history. They gave you space, but wouldn’t let you be hurt without a fight. You nodded at them and they all went to the front, giving you more privacy.

He nodded in their direction.

“People fall under your spell fast, I know that all too well. They trust you.”

You lifted your head. “I’ve never done anything to make them not trust me.”

He sighed. “Point taken.”

“Why did you come here? I know that you’ve known where I was. Sam must have told you.”

“I’ve known where you were. How could I not? I didn’t need Sam to tell me. It’s not like you were trying to hide.”

He cocked his head at you.

“But the reason that I’m here, now, is that I’ve always been slow at math. And I just put two and two together.”

You smirked up at him. “You’re right. This is home. A leopard doesn’t change her stripes.”

He just chuckled at your evasion.

“You wanna play a game?”

His eyes followed you, undeterred by your challenge.

You walked around to the other side of the table, leaned over and gathered the balls to be racked.

You held two in one hand and looked at him. He smiled and the electricity at the small of your back was everything. He slowly walked around to you as you racked them.

He took in your form (including your ample cleavage) as you bent over the table and your mouth as you said the word, “Break.”

“I’m tired of playing games, Doll. I’m just here to win you back.”

You turned around and faced him, looking up at him, now aware of his smell. You closed your eyes and inhaled leather and metal. You opened them again and his eyes were blazing.

“James.. I”

Bucky grabbed your face, hands gently cradling your head, and cut you off with a kiss, his lips gentle at first. Then his hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto the table. He slotted himself in between your thighs, your bodies separated by the same brand of black denim.

His lips and tongue seemed determined to possess you. Bucky kissed and felt your body like he hadn’t in a lifetime. His hands roamed you like they were starved from touching you.

Your hands were on his neck and in his hair, relishing the feel of him. You’d missed him so fucking much. You drew apart, and his breath fanned your face as you two panted together, his forehead resting on yours.

“I am never going to let you go again.”

“James…”

“Hold on Doll, I’ve got to say this.”

He smiled and gave you another quick peck. You nodded, solemn.

“I said the wrong thing back in Brooklyn. I don’t care that you were with him first. I don’t care if you think that you might want to be with him. When I fell for you, I fell harder than I ever have. Even from the train.”

He was whispering the words you wanted to hear months ago, causing you to cry. But a lot of things caused you to cry lately.

Bucky smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that you loved. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you, silencing you again. You responded with a smile. He continued.

“I know that you think that I folded and just gave up on you on our wedding day. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve you. Especially next to Steve. I mean, you won’t find a better man. But in the time since, I’ve realized, even though it’s hard. I’m a good man too.”

“You are, James…”

“You helped me come to terms with everything that’s happened. Sam has helped me deal with everything I did...and I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we can be perfect for each other.”

You nodded, smiling a little.

“I’m in love with you and I deserve you. You deserve me. We deserve each other. And I’m not saying this because I think you saved me. But you are the strongest woman I know, enough to be with me when I am weak. I figured out that I can be strong for you too. I have to be now. I am so sorry that I let you walk away. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight now, even if you don’t want to be with me. But I am asking you, again. Be my family. Make one with me. Choose me.”

You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes.

“James Barnes, there was never ever any choice. It’s you. It will be you. Forever.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief and started kissing you all over your face, down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was scared shitless, Doll! I love you so much,…”

You kissed him now, your hands under his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. Next, you went under his shirt, feeling his nipples, playing with them as he shuddered. Then your hands went up to one cold shoulder and one warm, grasping them as he ground his hard jeans covered crotch into yours.

“Too many clothes.”

You ended up helping him pull his shirt over his head. You trailed your hand back down his abs to the button on his jeans.

“I missed you James. My hormones are going crazy, Baby…”

His eyes got wide as you popped the top button and bit your lip. Bucky moaned. He was about to explode just being near you.

“Th-that’s what we need to talk about…”

“Talk later. Fuck. Now.”

Bucky looked over your shoulder to the other room. To his surprise, the door was now closed.

“Wow, they…”

You hopped down from the table and got on your knees in front of him.

“You gonna let me suck your dick or not James?”

He looked down at you smirking up at him and could feel himself leaking in his jeans. Three months of his hand had been torture, thinking of you.

It seemed as if he unfastened and pulled himself out without knowing. For a moment he feared mind control.

But it was just love and lust.

You grasped him, testing his girth and admiring how your fingers did not meet around his cock.

“Mmmmmmmm,” you moaned while you thumbed his tip, collecting the pre-cum and lubricating him as you pumped.

He stared at you, slack jawed and sexy as he watched you. He reached down and put his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

You commanded him. “Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky locked eyes with you and watched as you licked your lips, opened your mouth, and spit on his cock.

“Fuck.”

You pumped him a couple of times before you opened wide and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of his wide, smooth, hard unit in your mouth. You pulled off of him with a pop.

“Damn I missed this dick.”

Then you deep throated him again, making Bucky have to hold on to the side of the pool table as he held your head while you spluttered around him.

“And I missed your pretty little mouth, Doll. Damn.” He watched as you did it a few more times.

When you looked up and he saw your ruined face, Bucky went feral.

He pulled you up by your shirt, pulling it over your head and wiping your face with it. Then he kissed you.

“Fucking love how you do that, Doll.”

He started kissing down your chest, pulling your breasts out of your bra, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, a little more carefully than usual. He looked at you knowingly as you squirmed in pleasure.

“I’ve been doing my research.”

Then, he leaned down and suckled them with that mouth until you almost came, writhing in his arms. Bucky unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down, kneeling, and staring up at you as you leaned against the green felt table.

You stepped out of your jeans and panties and watched as his flesh hand glided from your ankle to your ass, palming it and then sliding back down as he lifted your thigh on his shoulder. You shuddered as you could feel his breath on your cunt.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”

His eyes held yours as he leaned in for a kiss, then a long wet lick of your cunt. You grabbed his brown hair as his blue eyes hypnotized you and as he ate you out. When his metal fingers came up, whirring, you started begging.

“Please, James…please…please…..”

He laughed, mouth still fucking your pussy. He pulled away, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers began pumping inside you, the vibration driving you up the wall.

“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue, Doll? Talk to me.”

“Unnnh, unnnnh, oooohhh shittttt. Don’t ever stop.”

And then you came all over his face, Bucky slurping it up happily. He stood up, taking you with him and maneuvering you so that you could feel his thick tip at your hole before it breached you.

Bucky’s cock stretched you out and made you see stars as you slid down his thick pole while he was standing up, pumping inside you as he deposited you on the table.

You wrapped around him like a vine as he held you, cock pounding from the feeling of being inside you again. He pulled back to kiss you again. He was grunting in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Fuck you feel so good...Fair warning, Doll. I’m not going to last. Been too long.”

You let go of him, and leaned back on the felt, arms braced behind you as you replied, “Just fuck me James.”

Bucky took in your body, from where you were connected up your torso to your breasts and the beautiful fucked out look on your face and started moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk.” You took him, looking down to see the impossible stretch.

“Yeah, look at that. Looks and feels so damn good, doesn’t it, Doll? How the fuck are you so… so… fucking… tight….?”

“Yes, fuck, James, FUCKKKKK.”

All nerves were in your cunt as you went down to your elbows, and then to your back flat on the slate table, pool balls going everywhere.

Bucky pulled your hips off the table and really started digging in, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as his metal hand slid down your body. You could tell that he was almost there.

“Cum with me Doll.”

When that metal thumb touched your clit, it was over. You came as soon as you felt his white hot ropes of cum drench your walls. You closed your eyes for just a second, and then opened your eyes wide.

‘Why am I curled up on a pool table after being fucked by my 106 year old fiance? What is life?”

Bucky laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and helped you off the table. He looked around, going to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine.

“You good?”

Bucky eyed you as you got your clothes together. He leaned next to you as he watched you drink the water.

“Baby okay?”

You ducked your head, smiled and grabbed his hand, putting it on your slightly rounded stomach.

“Yeah. I can feel him moving around. Can you feel that?”

Bucky just stared at his hand, then at your face.

“Not really… Him?” He was astounded.

“That’s normal. I’m gonna be able to feel him before you can, And yeah, Him.”

You turned more fully toward Bucky and he took you in his arms.

“I had all kinds of tests, to make sure that he was okay. I wanted to know if… if what they did to me would affect…. “

You shook your head, then smiled up at Bucky.

“He’s healthy. I’m 20 weeks. I figured we’d call him Jamie?”

Bucky beamed at you and nodded.

“How did you know?”

“Well, I figured out that you didn’t faint at the wedding just because of Steve. Why didn’t you tell me, Doll?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really asking me that question?”

Bucky blanched and you decided not to be salty.

“Well, At first, I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I was so happy that you asked me and didn’t know.” You beamed at him. “ But then…” Your smile faded.

“I’m an idiot, Doll. Forgive me. It’s me and you. And Jamie. Forever.”

You two shared the kiss you missed at the altar. It was going to be okay.

“Now, let’s go get some food. I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed as you punched his arm.

“Ass. But you’re right.”

You two walked down the street to Ninfa’s Restaurant hand in hand. Bucky turned his head and gave an imperceptible nod as you two passed by an alley/

Steve returned the greeting as he stepped out and watched you and Bucky make your way down the street.

“That’s okay Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Buck’s a good man. But I know you’ll choose me. In another time.”

He walked to the quinjet, which was pointed toward New York.

-------

Did Reader make the right choice? What do you think about the surprise?And what the what is Steve thinking? Let me know if you liked it by commenting or reblogging!

Tagging:

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like for suggesting the backstory thing!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene || Previous Part || Series Masterlist

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Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer.

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already.

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message!

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you.

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you.

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact.

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo.

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh.

“Okay, what now?”

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge.

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing.

It never comes.

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards.

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack.

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement.

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?”

He stares at you.

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that.

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long.

Fuck, he really had only one option.

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him.

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference.

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition.

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation.

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

“I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?”

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated.

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it.

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it.

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.”

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips.

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by.

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?”

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion.

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.”

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead.

Fucking finally.

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place.

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight.

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam.

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming.

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him.

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly.

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you.

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious.

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment.

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying.

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles.

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.”

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles.

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm.

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.”

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified.

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground.

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below.

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient.

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes.

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.”

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand.

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally.

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly.

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.”

“See you there.” Sam nods.

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure.

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business.

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that?

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all.

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry.

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available.

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly.

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?”

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued.

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour.

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.”

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb.

Tony has an idea.

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.

summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!! pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo word count: 5.5k

a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.

The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.

You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.

You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.

A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.

They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.

“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.

Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.

He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.

You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.

No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.

And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.

“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.

“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.

“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”

“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”

“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.

“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”

“And you?”

“She’s… a brat.”

“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”

“Does he—“

“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”

“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”

“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.

By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.

“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.

“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.

So what if you’re fucking Steve?

It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.

He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.

As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.

Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.

Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.

It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.

“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.

“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”

“Fine with me!”

With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”

“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.

“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.

“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”

Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.

“I’m not yours, Barnes.”

“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”

He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”

“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.

Now, he knows why.

“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”

“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”

His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.

“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”

“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”

You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.

“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”

“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…

“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.

“So what if I was?”

“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”

His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.

“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.

“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”

His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.

“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”

“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.

“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”

“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”

“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“Needy brat.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.

“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.

“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”

“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”

Challenge accepted.

Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.

“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”

Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.

To say nothing raises suspicion.

He hates it here.

“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.

“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”

“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”

“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”

Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.

You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.

But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…

Curious.

Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.

Not stalking at all.

“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”

“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I was crying.”

He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”

“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”

“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.

“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”

You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.

It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”

“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.

“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”

“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”

You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”

“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.

It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.

“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.

“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”

You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”

“I’ll whip you something to eat.”

As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.

Or doesn’t think.

Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.

The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.

Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.

“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.

Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.

But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.

“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”

“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”

“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.

“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”

“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”

“Whatever you say.”

Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage.

It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.

Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.

Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…

Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…

“What?”

“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”

“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.

“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”

“Aw, you called me pretty.”

“Barnes.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”

“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”

“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”

“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.

“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?

There’s a beat.

Then, two.

He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”

“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.

You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—

I want you.

He doesn’t say any of that.

And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.

“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”

You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.

He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.

“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.

For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.

Then again, he’s not complaining.

The view is fucking stellar.

6K notes · View notes

highdramas · 3 years

Text

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #the world's a little blurry #bucky barnes fanfic

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

professor barnes.

| professor!bucky barnes x reader | smut | fluff |

don’t mind me, I’m fantasizing about bucky being my hot professor ✨

cw: this is obviously a professor au, so there’s that (please don’t hook up with your profs irl) and also like, slight innocent kink? but not really, mild degradation (not meant)

You were tapping your pen against your lips.

You were deep in thought, hanging off of every word your professor spoke. You listened intently, taking in everything Professor Barnes had to say about World War II history.

History fascinated you, but not near as much as your sexy professor did. James Buchanan Barnes was nothing if not criminally gorgeous. It was distracting.

You really did try to focus on history, but it was so hard when you were watching his soft, full lips move. Occasionally, he would run his fingers through his dark hair, his muscles flexing under the white button downs he always wore.

“Miss Y/N!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, your pen falling from your fingers and clattering against your desk. It seemed to echo as all of the other students looked at you. Silver eyes bore into you, and you swallowed thickly.

“Professor? I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” You asked shyly. He looked at you for a moment before sighing.

“I asked who the leader of the Soviet Union was during World War II.”

“Joseph Stalin,” you answered, feeling sick to your stomach at his irritated tone.

“Thank you. Let’s try to pay attention for the rest of the lesson, yeah?”

Your face burned in shame, and a few of the girls smirked at his scolding.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded before he went back to his lecture.

You took notes and kept your head down the rest of the lecture, your penmanship a bit messy from your shaking hands. You closed your notebook and put it away as he ended the lecture, and students rushed out, eager to get to their lunch breaks.

You realized you were the last one left, and you stood, making your way through the empty desks.

“Y/N,” Professor Barnes said your name, and you stopped.

“I’m sorry-” both of you said at the same time, and you bit your lip, letting him continue.

“It wasn’t my intention to shame you.” He finished, and you looked into his silver eyes.

“I’m sorry that I got distracted. I’ll pay better attention next time... I usually do.”

“I know, you’re exceptionally intelligent, Y/N.”

You blushed at the praise, and he offered a small smile, putting you at ease. You thanked him before leaving, thoughts of him filling your mind the rest of the afternoon.

James couldn’t stop watching you. He was lecturing on the USSR, but part of his mind was on you. The way you listened to him, careful not to let yourself get called out again for being distracted. He noticed how you tapped your pen against your pink lips whenever you were in thought.

His mind wandered to your lips around him, though he caught himself and cleared his throat, letting a student speak about their research on Soviet Russia.

When you stood up, you smoothed our your miniskirt that drove him crazy. He imagined yanking it down your legs and bending you over his desk, teaching you to pay attention.

He was drawn back to reality by your sweet smile as you said goodbye as you headed out for the day. The image of your smile stuck in his head, and he couldn’t get you off his mind.

Professor Barnes was the subject of your dreams. You woke up in the middle of the night, after your subconscious had imagined him with his head between your legs, eating you out on top of your desk before class. Your cheeks heated furiously, and you took a cold shower, scrubbing your fantasies away.

You fidgeted in your seat, second guessing your choice of wearing a tight v-neck shirt. You felt silly. You had paired it with a short skirt, all in the hopes that your hot professor would notice you.

But why would he? You were just one of many students attempting to grab a few extra seconds of attention. You were running over your choice of outfit in your head as your professor passed papers back to all of the students.

He laid yours on your desk, and you noticed the lack of letter circled at the top. You were about to stop him when you realized there was a sticky note on the second page.

Please see me in my office after class. JBB

You looked up at him, but he didn’t glance at you as he handed other students their papers. You noticed nothing was marked on your paper, and you suddenly felt nervous.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you walked to his office, stopping by the bathroom to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror. You were sure it was fine, you would’ve gotten an email if you’d truly fucked up, alerting you ahead of time, you tried to convince yourself.

You knocked softly on the doorframe, leaning into his office. It was small and warm, filled with well-loved books and scattered notes of a chaotic mind. It smelled like coffee and books and leather, and everything about the small space seemed inviting.

“Y/N, come in.” Professor Barnes stood up, waving me inside. I stepped in anxiously, pushing the door shut behind me before taking a seat in the chair opposite his desk.

“I saw your note, in my paper. Is something wrong? There was no grade on it, and I’ve been worried...” you confessed, looking up into his silver gaze. He walked around and leaned against the desk in front of you, his hands gripping the edge.

“No, nothing is wrong. In fact, your paper is practically perfect. It’s incredibly written.” His words surprised you.

As he praised you, he looked down at your chest, shown off in your tight, low cut shirt. He wondered if you knew what you did to him, the effect you had. He acted as if he were deep in thought, covering up the fact he accidentally looked at your body a little too long.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say, I had no idea,” you spoke, and calling him sir made his cock twitch, and his breath catch in his throat.

“Of course. I wanted to talk to you to see if you were interested in publishing it in the school’s academic journal.”

“Oh? I mean, if that’s an option, then yes.”

“I can submit it for you, you’d just need to sign off saying that you grant permission for publication.” He explained to you, and you nodded, signing the form he placed in front of you.

You blushed, thinking about how he was directly in front of you, his body stretched out, muscles on display with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Your entire body grew hot with embarrassment when he caught you staring.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” His voice was low and smooth, and you could’ve sworn he read your mind.

“Nothing, I’m...” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“You’re what, fantasizing?”

Your eyes snapped up to him, and his confidence grew as he saw your thighs squeeze together, giving away your thoughts.

“Professor...” You must have misheard him, and he smirked at how flustered you were getting.

“Is that a yes?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Wearing these little outfits and teasing me.”

He knew.

James knew he won when he saw realization flood your face.

“I wear them for you,” you admitted shyly, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs as he gazed down at you.

“That’s what I thought, doll.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your fingers.

“What do you imagine me doing to you, pretty girl? Do you think about me taking off these little skirts?” He asked you, trailing his fingers along the hem, brushing against your thigh. You inhaled sharply, your head spinning at the touch. You nodded, making him smile as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your cheekbone, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Tell me what you dream about, doll,” he whispered, and by now you were practically shaking.

“Now you’re going to be shy?” James teased, amused by how easily he made you nervous.

He stood abruptly when a knock sounded on the door, and he leaned back on the desk. Your eyes were wide, and you sat frozen, in shock.

“I’m finishing up with a student!” He called through the door.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” He asked, and you nodded, your breath hitching as he gently touched your face. You stood, and he opened the door for the other student.

“I’m sorry, I was just hoping to talk about my grade?” A girl asked, in tears, and he looked like he wanted to harm her for interrupting.

“Yes, come in then.” His tone was impatient, and you lingered in the doorway. James said your name, holding eye contact with you for a moment before going back to work, and you walked down the hallway in a daze.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You felt like you were dreaming, your erotic fantasies coming true. You weren’t able to focus on your work, and you went home for the remainder of the day.

When it came time for his class again, you wore a short dress with little straps, wanting to show off as much as possible for him.

Your heart and mind raced as you entered his classroom, and you smiled innocently when his eyes fell on you. The silver darkened, and he watched you move to your seat, and you squirmed under the heavy gaze.

James watched as you uncrossed your legs, catching a flash of the lace beneath your dress. He sat down behind his desk, trying to collect himself and tear his focus off of you.

He was thankful that there was no lecture today, only a short quiz before he sent everybody home. You bit the top of your pen as you thought about the answers on the sheet below you, and Bucky studied your mouth. Your cheeks warmed, feeling the heat of his intense stare, adjusting slightly under the pressure.

Finally, you looked up at him, and leaned forward on your desk so more of your chest was visible. On purpose. He cleared his throat, making several students glance at him, and you had to make yourself bite back a smirk.

Everyone dropped their quizzes on his desk, leaving once they finished. You were the last one done, and you set yours on top of the pile.

“Would you like to finish our conversation from Monday in my office?” Professor Barnes asked you calmly, and you nodded.

He walked behind you, making you lead the way to his office. You knew he was staring at your ass, barely covered by the dress you wore, and you turned as you heard the office door close behind you.

You dropped your bag and hopped up to sit on top of his desk. He tossed his own bag aside and clicked the lock on his door, letting his eyes slowly move over your body.

“Y/N, what am I going to do to you? You wore this slutty little dress to distract me, didn’t you?” He teased, walking to stand in front of you.

“Yes, professor. Do you like it?” You looked up at him for approval, and his small laugh graced your ears.

His fingers went to the thin straps resting on top of your shoulders, grazing down over your breasts before tweaking your nipples through the thin fabric.

You squealed softly, feeling chills throughout your body as he lightly pinched you, toying with you through the dress.

“Are you sensitive, doll?” He asked, and you nodded, your cheeks rosy at your eagerness.

“I’ve been thinking about you, and not been able to do anything about it, and I’m all pent up.” You offered an explanation for your sensitivity, and his eyes nearly rolled back from the innocent way you spoke to him. He wanted to absolutely tear you up and ruin you, and make you fall apart at his touch.

“Let’s see if I can help then,” he slipped the straps off of your shoulders, the dress falling down around your waist.

At the sight of your bare chest in front of him, an audible noise of need left his throat. Your professor knelt down in front of you, wrapping his lips around your sensitive skin. Your chest rose and fell quickly with your heavy breathing, and his hand squeezed and fondled the side that wasn’t in his mouth.

“Please!” You were nearly desperate, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs as you grew more and more needy.

“Tell me what you want, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you didn’t care about the embarrassment anymore, and he smiled as he left heavy kisses down the column of your throat.

He couldn’t draw out the teasing anymore. He was painfully hard and the sight of you alone and your filthy words were driving him wild.

You had managed to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing an incredibly toned chest, and he undid his belt, pulling it easily from the loops. He snapped it as he tossed it aside, and you jumped at the noise, making him smirk.

“Maybe we can try that another time,” he watched an anticipatory shudder ripple down your spine.

“Do I get an A for this?” You teased, undoing the button and zip on his pants, tugging them down along with his underwear.

“Very cute,” he smacked your thigh lightly in response, making you jerk at the touch.

He slipped the dress over your head, discarding it along with his own clothing, leaving you in just lace panties on his desk.

He traced his fingertips over the damp lace, making you squirm on the desktop. You rolled your hips forward, eager for stimulation. He hummed disapprovingly at the action, pulling his touch away.

His hands held your waist as he carefully laid you down on the cleared wooden desktop, and you looked up at the stunning man above you.

“Please don’t tease me anymore, professor. I want you to fuck my pussy, please,” you begged, and he removed the lace in one quick movement.

“Relax, doll, I’m going to take care of you,” James answered gently, kissing down your body.

He hands wrapped around your thighs and he pulled you so that you were at the edge of the desk, your feet on top of the surface so you were spread open for him.

He leaned down and connected your lips, consuming you in a deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers lightly began to rub at your clit, making sure you were relaxed enough to take him in.

“I need you to be quiet beautiful, so all the students outside don’t hear those pretty screams for me.” He warned, kissing a line down your jaw.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck.”

You felt him brush his tip against your entrance before thrusting into you, and you struggled to adjust around him as he bottomed out. You held in a loud cry, arching your back, and pushing your chest up into his face as you did so.

Your breath hitched as he rocked into you, and he thrusted a bit faster, hitting all the deep places inside of you. He watched you struggle to ground yourself, your hands eventually holding his thick arms as he slammed into you repeatedly. You were smooth and tight around him, squeezing and contracting as he hit your g-spot.

“James, fuck,” the profanity tumbled from your pretty lips as his hips connected with yours. He wrapped a hand around your throat, keeping you down but not quite choking you.

The action caused you to spasm around him, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand around your neck.

“Do you like that? Do you like me holding you down by your throat? You dirty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathed softly under his grip, your thighs trembling weakly around his waist. You started to shake as waves of pleasure overwhelmed your body.

“Are you close?” He knew the answer, but he enjoyed seeing you fight to try to form words through the fucked-out haze that had settled in your mind.

“Answer me doll, or I’m going to stop,” James threatened, and you nodded.

“Yes, I’m so close!” Your soft whine was like music to him, and he dropped his free hand between the two of you.

He kept up his thrusts while playing with your clit, trying to pull your orgasm from you. He could feel your muscles tighten and threaten to snap around him, and you just needed a little help letting go. You were begging him softly, your eyes bleary as you cried for release. James wanted to feel you come around him, and was more than happy to help, squeezing lightly around your throat and pinching your nerves, the combination causing the pressure to snap. Your vision sparkled with color, electricity shooting through every nerve ending in your body. You threw your head back from the pleasure, and a hard thrust into your g-spot sent you spiraling into euphoria.

You came around him with a silent scream, and he struggled not to follow suit, and fill up your warm pussy. He released you as he felt you ride out the end of your orgasm, and he pulled out, coming all over your torso in several white ribbons.

You watched him in a daze, and once he finished, he gave you another quick kiss. You sighed softly, exhaustion starting to set in. His gentle smile made warmth spread over your body, and for a moment you forgot that you were lying naked on top of his desk.

He cleaned himself before cleaning you up, being gentle with you.

“Y’alright?” James asked, smiling at your soft yawn. You nodded, pulling the lace back up your legs and reaching for your dress. He handed it to you once you sat up, and helped you fix it.

Your fingers slipped the buttons of his shirt back in their holes, despite the fact that your hands were still a bit shaky. You felt all worn out, feeling like you could sleep for days and ride the dreamy feeling that was left in your mind.

He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips as you held his arm when you stood up, trying to steady yourself. You looked up at him shyly, and he placed his hand on your lower back.

“For the next time.” Professor Barnes said, putting his number in your phone before giving you a kiss.

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