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kilojulietsierra · 3 months

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You Promised - 1940s James "Bucky" Barnes x OFC

I LOVE 1940s Bucky so much and so I wrote this!

Summary: Bucky finally wins the favor of the pretty new girl in the neighborhood and together they make the most of the week before he ships out. Bucky makes her a promise the night before he leaves, and he intends to keep it.

Warnings: all my work is considered 18+, shameless flirting the both of them lol, fluff, angst,talk of war, there’s a tiny altercation in a dancehall, protective Bucky, allusions to smut, allusions to premarital sex which was frowned upon, nightmare mention, minor ofc is a refugee, pre serum Steve makes a couple appearances, happy ending

~~~

Bucky had seen her a handul of times around the neighborhood. Had done a bit of chatting up the neighbors to learn the little about her he could. She was new, relatively, to their block. Mrs. Martin in his building had said she remembered her folks before they had moved away, the girl had just been a baby then. He'd heard her talking to Frankie at the deli and her accent wasn't from around here, she'd grown up somewhere else. Mr and Mrs Lewis had even told him, just the other day when he'd stopped to help change their tire, that her family had moved back in to take care of a sick grandmother. Her mothers or fathers side they didn't know, but they lived in the place next to them and she was "such a sweet girl James, she'd straighten you right up."

Today she was walking out of the grocery a paper sack in one arm and a small stack of library books in the other. He smiled. Tis was his chance and he was more than happy to take it. Part of him, admittedly the slgihtly shallow part, wished he was in his uniform or at least dressed better than his work clothes.

That didn't stop him from picking up his pace and cutting across the street to bump into her. "You sure got your hands full. Here let me help." He ducked his head to catch her eye and spare her an easy grin as he gestured towards the sack of groceries.

Her eyes were a pale, sea glass green and they were sharp and skeptical as she appraised him. "I can manage, thank you though."

"No, not a chance, my ma would never forgive me." He deftly snagged the bag from her, grinning wider. "Besides, I think we live across the street from eachother. It's Lettie right?"

Those pretty green eyes narrowed at him, her brow furrowed "It is…"

"James," He settled her groceries in one hand and extended his other to her, "Everyone calls me Bucky though."

"Strapping young man like you can't get them to stop?" She quipped even as she held her hand up for him to take, "Your teeth don't seem that bad to me." One single brow arched and her face was passive as she held her books tight and walked on down the street. Not waiting for him to follow.

Bucky smiled wide as he fell in step beside her, keeping his stride slow and leisurely. "Cute," He looked down at her but she didn't look back. Unphased he elaborated, "Buchanan is my middle name, family name."

"Ohhh," She looked at him finally, tucked her sleek red hair behind her ear as she turned to walk backwards eying him in a way he couldn't quite place. "You're the Barnes boy. Mrs. Lewis told me to watch out for you." She looked pleased with herself, thinking she'd got some sort of upperhand.

Still grinning Bucky picked up his pace, just so he could step past her and lean down close and say, "Funny, she told me the same thing about you." And he continued on ahead of her biting his bottom lip and waiting.

"Now, just a minute, what is that supposed to mean?" She jogged to catch up to him again.

He didn't respond just smiled, kept walking, and threw her a lazy wink as they walked on down the street.

At the next corner she turned on him again, "What's your angle Barnes?"

"What angle doll?" He countered her overly formal use of his name with one that earned him a slght pink flush to her cheeks.

"Just a nice neighbor boy, carryin' my groceries? What is it? All the other girls in Brooklyn had their fill?" She shifted the books in her arms and Bucky saw one was a Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

"No angle," He nodded his head for her to continue and went out on a limb as he put his free hand at her shoulder to turn her and keep her moving, "Okay, that's not entirely true," He nudged her forward again smiling at the triumphant look on her face when she spun on him. "I just mean, that you are prettier than any girl I've ever seen and I've been dying for a chance to steal just a little bit of time with you." He slowed to a stop in front of what he knew was her building and grinned when she continued on a few steps before she noticed.

Her eyes were calculating and predatory as she scrutinized him. Looking for the angle, as she had said.

He noticed then the second book was a copy of the Hobbit he'd borrowed himself years ago.

"Alright, I'll bite, a little bit of time for what exactly?" She looked almost unimpressed, with herself, for asking.

Licking his lips Bucky smiled and took a step closer so she would have to tilt her chin up to look him in the eye. Which she did, standing her ground, and he loved it. "To ask if I could take you out one night this week."

"Just one night huh?" Her face didn't change as she said it

Was she really…? Bucky faltered the slightest bit, cocked his head to the side as he tried to figure out the real meaning in her words. He pushed his luck. "Every night if you'd let me."

She smiled. The barest tilt of her lips and Bucky felt ten feet tall. He was in love with this girl already, or would be if he wasn't careful.

"How about we just start with tomorrow night?" Her face softened but her eyes kept the spark in them.

"Done." Bucky didn't hesitate. "There is one catch though."

She rolled her eyes and then they both had to step away from the stoop as one of her neighbors exited the building. Both of them mumbled their apologies before she continued, "Always is."

"Not anything bad." Bucky assured her. "See i've got this friend, my best friend really, he's a great guy but shy."

Lettie nodded, eyes skeptical again. "So you actually want me go out with this friend?"

"God no!" The moment the words left his mouth he cringed, but the sting of his own embarrasment faded when she chuckled and ducked her eyes to the sidewalk. He caught a peak at the tip of her tongue as it wetted her lips and his confidence came back, "I'm keeping you all to myself sweetheart, trust me."

Her cheeks were pink when she looked back up at him and she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too wide. "So, this friend…"

"Steve. Great guy. He just, needs a little push out of his shell if you know what I mean." Bucky almost felt bad, but God help him he desperatley wanted to find his pal a girl. "Was just thinkin' maybe you had a friend, we could make it a double date."

Lettie's eyes were skeptical again and she glanced behind her before she responded, "A friend that likes shy boys or a friend that likes any boy?"

When he caught her meaning Bucky licked his lips and looked her up and down, "Oh sweetheart, surely you don't have friends like that? I had you figgured for a good girl." He was going to fucking marry this girl, God help him.

She flushed a darker shade of pink and laughed, rolled her eyes again but settled her greens back on his blues after a heartbeat. Lettie licked her lips and looked him up and down herself. "Most of the time." Her eyes locked on his mouth as Bucky sunk his teeth into his bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

Unable to stop himself Bucky hummed approvingly and hunted for her gaze again before he spoke, "Then why don't you bring one of your nice, sweet friends with you tomorrow night and she can keep Steve company while you and me see what kinda trouble we can get into?"

Lettie answered by taking back her brown paper bag full of groceries and taking the first few steps up to the front of the building before she turned and said. "You better be right here by seven tomorrow night, Barnes." She settled him with a look which softened after a second. "Earlier if you want to make a good impression."

"Yes ma'am." His cheeks hurt from smiling and he shoved his hands in his pockets. She was almost to the door before he called after her, "Hey sweetheart," she was grinning when she turned around, her face still skeptical but in a teasing sort of way now. Bucky took a few steps backwards towards his side of the street, "Wear somethin' you can dance in."

~~~

Bucky was outside her building at 6:45pm, fighting the urge to smoke a cigarette while he waited.

The front door opened at 6:50pm and Lettie poked her head out, "Why Mr. Barnes, I'm proud." She sounded snarky but she was smiling as Bucky jogged up the steps to meet her. She pushed the door open wider and waved him in.

He stepped right up in front of her and took the door, looking over her he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "Well hello to you too doll." She looked so pretty he had to force his eyes to meet hers. "You look gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes but blushed that rosy pink color that he liked. "You look pretty sharp yourself."

He'd worn his uniform. Shined his boots and everything. "

That'll help." She added cryptically as she started up the stairs.

Bucky paused at the bottom, "Help with what?" Lettie bounced back down a couple stairs until they were eye to eye. "Help convince papa you're a fine young man that's gonna take good care of me."

"Oh," Bucky felt a rush roll through him as she grabbed his hand. He used the hold to keep her in place as he held her gaze intenesly and added, "I'm gonna take real' good care of ya sweetheart."

Her father had been nice enough, intimidating but Bucky had won him over quickly. Her mother was a looker with the same red hair as Lettie. A younger sister that he'd seen poking her head around the corner to sneak a peak had the same pretty green eyes and looked like she'd be a world of trouble herself in a few years. If the way Lettie and her mother had both scolded the younger girl and sent her scurrying was any inclination.

"I'm impressed." Lettie said once they were back down on the street.

"Already?" Bucky teased and laughed when she playfully shoved him towards traffic. "Kidding." He tugged her close and looked her over, "Thought springing your folks on me was gonna send me runnin'?"

She didn't answer but that was answer enough. Bucky picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Lettie smiled and rolled her eyes even as she let his lips linger. He liked that little bit of attitude mixed with that soft and sweet. He liked it a lot.

"We should uh, we should go. I told Isaline we would meet her at the station. I wasn't sure where we were going." Lettie seemed the slightest bit flustered but her eyes were still bright.

Bucky smiled, wrapped her hand in the crook of his elbow and led her off down the street. "So is this the nice friend or the really nice friend." He coughed out a laugh as she smacked him in the chest.

"Isaline is a sweetheart, she's a little shy herself but only, well, you'll see."

When he watched her greet her friend at the station the rapid chattering in a different language caught him off guard. He stood back, a little awkward, but with an easy, charming smile on his face.

"James this is Isaline, Isa this is James, or Bucky as he somehow prefers to be called." Lettie introduced them with a big smile.

The friend was pretty and Letties comment made more sense when he heard how heavily accented her English was. On the train the girls sat and chatted while Bucky stood, one hand on the rail and listened as they went back and forth between English and French. As they left the train Bucky grabbed Lettie's elbow softly and leaned into her ear, "Aren't you just a treat?"

The girl with him blushed a bright red but smiled, "What do you mean?"

"You speak French?"

"My family lived in Montreol for most of my childhood." Lettie lowered her voice, "Isaline's family fled France a couple years ago, before…" Lettie trailed off.

Bucky nodded, "Brave girl." He whispered back before he wrapped Letties hand through his arm again. Isa and Lettie linking arms and letting Bucky lead them down the street to the little dancehall he liked best. Steve would like this girl, even if she was shy, she was pretty for sure, a killer smile and brave enough to escape the Nazis. Right up his best friends alley.

~~~

Steve was waiting for them out front. Standing off to the side, hands in his pockets, wearing that same old jacket. Bucky had to grin. He whistled then called out, "Hey punk, over here!"

When Bucky introdruced him to Lettie and Isa Steve was ever the gentleman. Then as Isa rattled something off in French to Lettie, Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. Steve furrowed his brow at his best friend, Bucky just smiled and shrugged.

Lettie chuckled and then linked her arm through Bucky's, whcih pleased him greatly, as she addressed Steve. "She wants me to tell you that she's sorry her English isn't so good, but that she'd like it very much if you would help her practice some tonight. Preferably while she's running her fingers through your hair." Isa giggled beside her friend and Bucky outright laughed.

Steve gulped as Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the door with the music spilling out. "What're you laughing at Buck?"

Bucky laughed again as Isa hooked her arm in Steve's and began to drag him forward at a jog. "I think we're both in trouble tonight pal." He felt a pinch in his side as he laughed again and turned to tip his gaze down to Lettie, "What was that for doll?" With his same easy grin he walked her towards the line to get in, his pace a slow kind of swagger. Feeling good in his uniform with a gorgeous girl on his arm.

"Isa is not trouble." She defended her friend, "She's just... flirtacious. It's 'cause she's French."

"I'll say." Bucky laughed again, falling in line behind the flirty French girl and Steve. While they waited Bucky ducked down to whisper in her ear, "What would a guy have to do for you to whisper to him in French and play with his hair? Hmm?"

Lettie rolled her eyes and flicked the bill of his cap, "He'd have to take me on at least two more dates."

Bucky smirked and raised his brows as he straightend his cap. In his head he counted out the days until he shipped out. "I think I can make that happen." "

Oh do you?" Lettie smirked as they came to the door, "I think I'll be the one that decides that Mr. Barnes."

He kept smiling as he paid for the four of them to get in, "Y'know, technically, it's Sargent Barnes."

Her cheeks were rosy from her permanent smirk as she shook her head, "Whatever you say Bucky." She teased him, not giving him the satisfaction of acting impressed.

With one hand on her back he guided her through the door behind Steve and Isaline. Once she was in front of him he leaned in to whisper beside her ear again, "You're just a little firecracker aren't you?"

There was a brief moment where she halfstepped, intentionally causing him to bump into her back as he followed her and on reflex he set a hand at her waist to steady them both. WIth him close Lettie glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look, "I thought I was a treat?"

Bucky liked the way she felt just barely pressed against him and the way her waist fit so perfectly in his hand. He smiled, a little mischevious and leaned in so close his nose brushed her hair, "Girl can be both. Perfect combination if you ask me." He caught the way she blushed and smiled wide just before she looked away from him and it was doing dangerous things to his ego.

~~~

Lettie knew she wasn't the best dancer but she had been excited. Impatient even to let Bucky take her out onto the floor. It hadn't taken him long and they'd quickly abandoned their friends in the corner to camp out on the dancefloor. They danced song after song until the band took a break, She was warm and a little breathless when she had nodded and let Bucky pull her towards the back of the hall for something cold to drink.

She stood a little behind Bucky while he spoke with a server behind the bar and busied herself trying to spy across the room at Isa and Steve. Neither of them had ran away yet, which based on what Bucky had told her while they danced was an improvement. She hadn't seen them out on the floor even once, but it looked like Steve had a bit of a pink hue to his cheeks which made Lettie laugh to herself.

"Hey honey, you gonna give anyone else a go tonight?"

"Excuse me?" She turned towards the unfamiliar voice.

"You heard me sweetie. You been lettin' that pretty boy hog you all night. Think I should get a turn, huh?"

The disgust on her face was evident when she spat back, "I think you should quit callin' me names and beat it."

"You little s…" The mans hand was a blur of motion but it froze midair when Buckys hand caught him by the wrist.

"That's a real bad idea." Bucky said calm as can be as he held an iron grip on the man with his left hand and reached towards Lettie with his right. He twisted the mans wrist just enough to cause some discomfort and push him back.

"You outta put muzzle on your bitch there." The man snarled even as Bucky twisted his arm further.

Before Bucky could retalliate though Lettie was pushing past him, "You outta put a bag over your head so the rest of us ain't gotta suffer that ugly mug."

"Okay doll, that's enough." Bucky dropped the mans wrist in favor for catching Lettie around the waist and pulling her back, spinning her around behind him once again. He saw the motion out of the corner of his eye and groaned, "You're killin' me." He caught the other mans sloppy haymaker easily and twisted him around with it, pinning it at what looked to be an extremely uncomfortable angle. He shoved the man back towards his group of friends, "You boys, better sort your pal out there." Bucky gestured to the still fuming, stumbling, loudmouth and then turned back to Lettie

"Nuh-uh." Bucky shook his head as he pushed her back by the hip, "Leave it doll, let's go." He reached for the two cokes he'd bought and gently ushered her back from the scene of the incident.

"You're just gonna let him…"

"I…" Bucky drew out the syllable to emphasize a point, "Am keepin' you outta trouble."

Lettie chewed on her lip, not noticing the way Bucky was figinting back a grin, "You should've let me…"

"Let you what doll? Sock him?' Bucky glanced over his shoulder then back to her, "Was gonna do it myself till you went tearin' after him like a prize fighter."

The scowl on her face softened slightly and Bucky tilted his head to one side, smiling down at her, "Sweetheart, I think you did enough damage without either one of us puttin' hands on him." He tugged her closer, let his arm wrap all the way around her waist and she relaxed into him almost immediatly.

"I'm sorry James." She finally, had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Don't apologize, I kinda liked it." Bucky threw her a wink and held her gaze a beat, "My little firecracker."

Lettie scoffed, purposfully ignoring the way he had used 'my'. She leaned back enough to pluck a Coke bottle from his grasp and take a sip. "I kinda liked it too." She mumbled against the mouth of the glass bottle.

"What's that?" Bucky leaned closer so he could hear.

She sighed deep and stood up a little to repeat herself in his ear, "I kinda liked how you… ya know…" Lettie trailed off not sure how to explain that she had found his quiet, confindent, control of the situation so attractive. The way he could have clearly swung on the troublemaker but instad chose to use his brain as well as his muscles.

He must've seen it in her eyes, or heaven forbid read her mind, because Bucky pulled back with a shit eating grin, "Oh really?" He licked his lips and gave her a nearly inappropriate look, "I'm glad." He all but whispered against her temple and followed it by a careful press of his lips. When he pulled back she was grinning too and they left it at that.

~~~

For awhile the four of them had sat at the little corner table and chatted. Bucky had kicked Steve out of his chair, forcing him to go and sit beside Isa so Lettie could sit next to him. Soon he had his arm draped over the back of Letties chair and was smiling contently as the girls chatted across the table.

After awhile Bucky had all but bullied his pal into taking the pretty French girl out for a spin on the dancefloor. Lettie had giggled beside him as Isaline had nearly drug Steve along behind her. Together they sat there, watching from the sidelines as their friends danced, or tried to.

"Gosh is that how clumsy I looked?" Lettie laughed hiding it behind her hand.

'Not a chance," Bucky ducked his head to meet her gaze, "You looked like a dream doll."

She turned that pretty pink color and couldn't hold his eye. Bucky chuckled, "How come you can be so gorgeous, so quick, square up with a guy twice your size without thinkin' twice," He paused and reached a careful hand out to tip her face back to his, "And still get so flustered when I say somethin' nice?"

Lettie bit her lip and shook her head a little, eyes dropping closed for a moment when he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I don't know."

All he could do was smile. When he caught sight of the others coming back he gave her a soft smile and a wink.

~~~

The four of them had split up at the station, Bucky once again nearly forcing Steve to walk Isa home, giving Bucky and Lettie the chance to walk home together. Alone.

She had ahold of his elbow again, only this time she had both arms wrapped around his and they laughed and teased eachother as they walked. At the front steps to her builing Lettie's heart dropped slightly and she took a fortifying breath. She turned to face Bucky and asked outright, "You're leaving soon aren't you?"

Though it might have caught him off guard he didn't show it. He only took her hand in his and nodded, "My company ships out Friday."

Lettie nodded, looked intently at his hand that engulfed hers, warm, rough to the touch but gentle. She put on a smile, forced but not insincere, "I had a really great time tonight Bucky."

That brough his smile back as well. He picked her hand up to his lips and kissed the top of her thumb, "So did I."

SHe studied him intently, eyes searching for some answer he was more than willing to let her find. He stood there patiently, with his easy grin firmly in place while he waited, hand still holding hers.

"Even though I kinda tried to start a fight?" She chuckled sheepishly.

HIs grin doubled, "Oh especially since you tried to start a fight."

She swatted at his chest and he took it in stride, even tugged her back to him after.

"So you'd consider, maybe, taking me out again?" Lettie was fighting back nerves that evaporated when she saw the way his face cracked into a wide, honest smile.

"Sweeheart, you have no idea how much I'd like that." He took that as a sign that he could get away with wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. "Can I come fetcch you tomorrow? We can get a bite to eat, just you and me this time?"

Lettie was beaming when she nodded, "Sounds perfect."

The way she was looking up at him, matched with the way she had all but melted into him, gave him hope but she was a handful and he was a gentleman. So, he asked, "Lettie," he tipped her chin up with his knuckle and looked her in the eye, "Can I kiss you goodnight?"

"Yes please."

Bucky had to remind himself to keep it short and sweet. The way all the air left her in a rush as he pressed his lips to hers drew him in. He'd meant it to be a quick little peck, empitome of a gentleman, but then her hands had reached for either side of his jaw and he couldn't hold back the happy hum in the back of his throat. He swiped his lips over hers again and spread a hand wide over her back to press her even closer to him.

When he finally forced himself to pull away he saw her eyes still closed and her lips still parted and couldn't help himself. "Look at you." He murmered to her, catching the way her eyes fluttered open only for her to moan and let them fall closed once more as he allowed himself one final kiss. Electricity trilling down his spine as she captured his bottom lip between hers as they pulled away the second time.

Lettie was trying to catch her breath and her eyes were wide and lit from within.

"See you tomorrow beautiful." Bucky tipped her face gently so he could press a kiss to the corner of her eye, not trusting himself to kiss her properly again.

WIth a happy hum she let her hands slide over his shoulders and down to squeeze his biceps as she smiled up at him sweetly. "Can't wait."

Bucky held the door to her building open for her and returned her silly little wave as she scampered up the stairs. He stood there unitil he heard her door upstairs open and close. "Neither can I." He whispered to himself, with the shake of his head, as he let the door swing closerd behind him.

~~~

"You're too good for the likes of him Lettie, you mark my words."

"Sal!" Bucky scoffed, "C'mon, you've known me my whole life"

"Exactly!" The old man pointed at him accusingly as he set another bottle of Coke down.

Bucky shook his head, offended, "Don't do me dirty like that Sal, c'mon." The man behind the counter laughed loudly as he walked away, sharing a conspiritorial wink with Lettie.

Still shaking his head Bucky shifted to face her on his stool, "You might have everyone fooled, but I know better."

Lettie scoffed, "Oh, you know better? Do you? A few dates and you've got me all figured out, is that it?" She propped her elbow besdie her plate and arched her brow, waiting.

"Workin' on it." Bucky grinned, reached down to grab the leg of her stool and drag her closer. It made her giggle and he loved it, "You're no angel darlin' but you are definitly too good for me."

That surprised her and she grinned even wider, licking her lips she spoke softly, "Well then aren't you lucky?"

"Very lucky." Bucky leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"You knock that off Barnes! People eat here."

Lettie snorted out a laugh, as Bucky jokingly growled, "Sal, you're killin' me here." He caught the way Lettie was looking at him out the corner of her eye, "Don't you enourage him doll." She snorted out an even less lady like laugh and went back to her food. "You're both killin' me."

Bucky snuck a hand out to tickle her ribs earning him a squeal of laughter and a hard swat to his forearm. "Behave yourself." She scolded him, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Bucky surrendered, hands in the air and everything. "Okay, okay, best behavior." He tossed her a wink as he went back to his own plate. Both of them fighting back smiles, cheeks aching.

Sal walked back by after a minute and gave Bucky a hard look, "I take it back, this girl, I think she's good for you." He smacked Bucky hard, affectionantly but hard, on the shoulder and turned to move on down to another couple at the end of the counter.

Bucky caught Letties eye and kept his voice low, "Oh, she's very good for me."

Lettie flushed bright red and hid her face in her free hand, "You are the absolute worst." She hissed back at him.

He furrowed his brow, asbsentmindedly twirling his fork between his fingers, "Really? Pretty sure that's not what you ..."

"James Buchanan, I swear..." She left her threat to trail off in the static between them. Her face flushed and Bucky grinned like the cat that ate the canary.

"Okay, like I said, best behavior." He left it at that, only reaching for the hand she had been hiding behind and tugging it to him so he could press a kiss to her palm. Then with a happy, contented smile he remained on his best behavior through the rest of lunch.

When the two of them left, Bucky left a little bigger tip on the counter than he needed to and tucked Lettie into his side as they headed back out onto the street. Neither of them paying attention to the looks that trailed after them. The group of girls in a booth that looked longingly at the handsome young man and the open and obvious adoration for the girl that wasn't them. The older couple that shared a knowing, reminiscint smile, and Sal who shook his head with a chuckle as he cleared their plates away.

Out on the street Bucky and Lettie continued down the sidewalk, his arm over her shoulders and their fingers laced together.

"Buck?" "

Yeah doll."

"What happens while your gone?" She tried to keep her voice light.

Bucky swallowed thickly and did the same, "Told you, we're gonna go over there, kick HItlers ass, and be back in time for you..." He paused mid stride to spin her around and pull her back so they stood face to face, "To take me ice skating for Christmas."

Lettie rolled her eyes in that way she knew he liked. "For me to take you, huh?"

"Well, we already established I don't know how, so... yeah. You're gonna have to hold onto me all night." He fought back a grin as he walked into her, pushing her to step backwards, "I'm probably gonna make a fool out of myself, hanging on you the whole time." He made his point by wrapping his arms around her tightly, still keeping them walking down the street. Lettie trusting him completely as she continued stepping backwards.

"James, I'm serious." She looked up at him with bright but serious eyes. He returned her gaze and slowed them to a stop at a cross walk. His sharp blue eyes left hers to watch the traffic go by for a moment. "We talked about this Lettie." He looked back to her, kept her wrapped up tight. "

You hardly know me."

"Don't matter." His answer was so immediate and certain it took a little of the fight out of her. "You're my girl. We both know this ain't..." Bucky trailed off. For once he was the one at a loss for words, "Don't matter it's only been a week. It's never been like this for me before Lettie."

With a heavy sigh she wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed into him. "Me either."

"So, you'll wait for me?" He gazed down at her lovingly, hopefully. His eyes nearly fluttering closed at the feel of her nails scratching through the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

"You know I will. " She smiled up at him just as in love, even if neither of them had said those words just yet. "As long as you promise to do your damndest to come home to me."

HIs smile turned into a smirk, "Such a mouth on you." He kissed her before she could say anything back, being so bold as to swipe his tongue into her mouth right there in the middle of the sidewalk. She nipped at his bottom lip as he pulled back and he let her draw him in for another slow kiss. "I promise Doll, I'm comin' home to you."

They stood that way for a moment longer, more unspoken promises being shared in the silence. Lettie was the one that broke them out of it, "You, better let me go, so I have time to go round up a friend for Steve and get ready."

"You look good in what you're wearin'." Bucky almost pouted, carefully bunching up the fabric of her skirt in one hand.

"Thank you, but" She swatted his hand away, "You promised to wear your uniform for me tonight, so I have to go get dolled up." She winked when she used a play on his favorite pet name for her, "So those other girls out there don't get the wrong idea."

"Don't see how they could when I can't keep my hands off you." Bucky offered smoothly as he dropped a short, teasing kiss to her lips. "But, you know I love it when you get all done up for me." His eyes were downright sinful when he looked her up and down and he smiled at the blush on her cheeks. "You sure you're okay meeting us there?"

"I'm sure." She patted him on the chest, took a moment to enjoy the feel of the hard earned muscle under his shirt and then dropped her hands when Bucky gave her a look. "Don't you..."

"Wasn't gonna say a word." He bit his bottom lip and looked her up and down. Unabashedly remembering how her hands had felt on his bare skin, the slight red marks she had left behind. Bucky slowly backed away before he got himself in anymore trouble.

"Hey Sarge!" Lettie called after him, teaasing him again, "Forgetting something?"

WIth a laugh and a shake of his head he joined her back on the corner of the sidewalk, and with a hand on each hip he pulled her into another kiss. "I'll see you tonight."

~~~

It was too bad Isaline hadn't been the girl for Steve, it turns out they were just two different types of shy. Isa was shy becuase she was new to the States and still didn't feel completely at home. Steve was shy because, well, he was Steve.

Lettie liked Steve the little she'd been around him. Bucky was right, he was a great guy, he just was a little unsure of himself. Lettie remembered the first little tiff she and Bucky had had, on their second date, when she had brought up what Isa had said about Steve. But Lettie had apologized for speaking harshly about his best friend and Bucky had apologized for raising his voice.

They had sat in a park down by the water and talked after that, Bucky filling her in on growing up with Steve and she understood better. Even became a little more invested in finding him a girl, vowing to take up the mission while Bucky was overseas along with most of the competition. Admittedly the date she'd found for him tonight wasn't the best match but she'd had short notice. Mae was smart as a whip and pretty, but a little on the stoic side. She had been excited though.

Of course that was after Lettie had told her that Bucky, her handsome Army beau had got them tickets to the Stark Expo and was going to bring a buddy along for her. Bucky had talked him up, sharing all the best things.

Mae had looked at her sideways when the boys arrived, "That's Buckys best friend?"

"Yeah." Lettie called them over and then turned back to Mae. "Don't be rude, he's the sweetest guy. You'll see."

"He could be sweet and look like yours. Is that too much to ask?"

Lettie rolled her eyes already feeling bad about the setup but excited for the expo and to spend the night with Bucky.

~~~

They had stayed out so late that Lettie was certain her folks would be upset, even if they liked Bucky which they did, it was well past the decent hour to bring a girl home. Who could blame them though? He was shipping out in the morning. This would be their last night together in God knew how long.

She swayed with the motion of Bucky bumping into her as they walked, "Where that pretty mind of yours wander off to?" He asked when she glanced up at him.

She gave him a soft, sadly tinged smile and apologized, "Sorry, was just thinkin'."

He didn't have to ask, he just held her tighter and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "You got the pamphlet right, on how to get letters to me?"

Lettie nodded but didn't trust herself to speak. They were a few blocks from her house now and her throat got tighter with each step.

Bucky breathed deep and tried to lighten the mood, "Wish I could keep you out all night. Keep you all to myself 'till I have to leave. But, I think your folks like me and I don't wanna mess that up. Would throw a real wrench in my plans."

With a snort Lettie gazed up at him, "Your plans huh?"

"Mhmm."

When he left it at that she finally cracked a smile and a hint of a laugh, "Care to share those plans with me Barnes?"

WIth a wide smile Bucky pulled her to a stop around the block from her home. "Nothin' too crazy. Just go to war, come home, convince you to marry me, which admittedly may be difficult but I'm up to the challenge," He laughed at the eye roll that earned him and continued, "Get a good job, find us a place, figure out how many kids we're gonna have."

"So you do, just got it all planned out don't you?" Lettie shook her head.

He nodded once slowly, not saying anything else for a long while. Then he tugged her to him by the waist and kissed her, "How does that sound?" He whiispered against her lips.

Lettie wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to mold her body against his and squeeze her tight as they breathed the same air.

She thought of a lifetime of the laughing and smiling, the teasing and squabbling. Of his wandering hands and hugs that set the world right again. With heat rising up in her chest she thought of the one night they'd been able to steal together. The way they had laughed and fumbled and whispered together in the dark. How she had felt so adored and loved and at the same time so alive and indescent in the most amazing ways. She thought of the way he had looked at her, and she at him.

It wasn't that they were the only people in the world, far from it, but that they were only ones that either of them could imagine having for the rest of their lives.

With no sense of how long she'd been thinking she hugged him tighter and whispered into the side of his neck, "It sounds amazing."

His arms held her tighter, closer, if that were even possible, and then her feet were off the ground and the world was spinning. When Bucky sat her feet back on solid ground she was laughing and he was giving her that obnoxiously charming, easy grin she had fallen for so quickly.

Bucky brought his hands up to cradle her face as he kissed her again. More so this time, "I wish I could take you home with me tonight." He barely pulled back from her to say the words and then he was devouring her lips again. "One more time before I go." He wouldn't give her enough time to respond between kisses so she just hummed, moaned more like, happily into his mouth and carded her fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

A shiver rolled through her at the thought of another stolen night spent thouroughly exhausted and wrapped up in his arms. The promise of a future where he wouldn't have to sneak her home after. Where they could stay that way, wake up wrapped in eachother.

Eventually Lettie moaned again, nipped at his lip to get him to give her a chance to breath, and they were both giggling as they pulled apart. Bucky licked his lips like he was savoring the taste of something sweet and it made her heart flutter.

All of the sudden she couldn't keep her hands still. They slid from his neck to frame his jaw and then down to his firm chest and even lower over his torso. The memory of watching the muscles there ripple, flex and contract above her brought heat to her cheeks.

"You're thinkin' too much again doll." He was teasing her now, as he took her hands in his and started them walking back down the sidewalk before they got themselves in trouble.

"You mean it right?" She blurted out as he tucked her back into his side and turned the corner towards her building.

"Every word." He kissed the top of her head again, hugging her to him the whole rest of the block. In front of her building he smiled at her, "Want me to walk you up?" He didn't want to leave her yet.

Lettie took the first step and then turned towards him again, they were eye to eye like this, and shook her head. "It'll be quietter if I go up alone." She draped her arms over his shoulders and closed her eyes, smiling serenely as his hands moved to her waist.

They stroked up and down a few times before he wrapped his arms around her completely. He was going to ask for one more kiss but she beat him to it. One of her hands reached up to tip his cap off his head and the other combed through his jet black, slicked back hair underneath.

His eyes closed with the gentle touch and he smiled when she pressed her lips to his. This kiss was softer, sweeter, a proper good bye, as they held eachother in the dark on their Brooklyn street. When his eyes opened and saw her there, green eyes glassy and lips swollen he hadn't hesitated, "I love you so much." He lifted his own hand to tuck a strand of hair back and swipe away a tear from the corner of her eye, "I promise you doll, I'll do everything in my power to come home to you."

"I love you too, God, so much it scares me." She sobbed out a little laugh and leaned into his hand. "And you better keep that promise."

Bucky laughed too, a lump in his throat and fighting back uncharacteristic tears of his own. "You better get upstairs." He kissed her again, quick and light. Trying to ease the heaviness of the mood.

"Good night Bucky." She tilted her head to kiss him, one more time, and then set his cap back on his head. Crooked, the way he liked it. Then she backed away.

"Sweet dreams doll." He held her hand in his until it had slipped away and he watched her turn at the door and smile back at him.

She waved, that same silly, flirtacious wave, she'd given him every night for the past week and then blew him a kiss. How could he not laugh, shake his head at her and return the wave. He even blew her a kiss of his own, laughing at himself but loving the way she beamed back at him. Then the door swung closed behind her and Bucky was alone in the darkness. With a sad smile he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to walk across to his own building. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight.

~~~

Lettie could barely sleep either. She had woke early, her eyes jumping to the clock. In less than an hour Bucky would be reporting to muster at the ship yards, and by lunch he would be on his way to England. Then on his way to war.

Not knowing what possessed her she bolted out of bed and threw a robe over her nightdress. When she had dashed down the hallway she had nearly bowled over her father who stood in the kitchen. The collision slowed her down enough to apologize and clear her thoughts for a moment.

"What are you doing darling?" Her father questioned her, concern etched in his face, "Are you alright?"

She didn't know how to explain. She needed to see Bucky, one more time, if she hurried….

"I'm fine Papa." She blurted as the hurried to the door and nearly ripped it open. When she dashed out of the apartment she collided with a solid form for the second time that early morning.

This time however the man she had collided with cursed slightly under his breath and caught her in his arms, "Easy doll, where you runnin' off to?"

She was speechless when she came to her senses and saw Bucky standing before her. Crisp and clean shaven, uniform pristine and that crooked smile on his face. All she could do was wrap her arms around him and hug him to her. "I wanted to see you, one more time before you left."

Strong arms wrapped her up tight as he chuckled into her messy, morning hair. "Guess that makes two of us."

Lettie didn't see her father poke his head out of their apartment door, nor did she see the look the two men exchanged. Bucky appropriatly sheepish at the current postition in which he was entangled with the other mans daughter, but his hold on her never weakened.

To both of their surprise her father coughed, breaking them apart, and gestured them back inside the apartment. Bucky hadn't planned on sitting at the kitchen table with Lettie and her parents that morning, but it did his heart good. Her father had poured him a cup of coffee and shook his hand. Her mother had kissed him on the cheek. Lettie had sat beside him in her robe and disheveled hair and that was exactly how he wanted to remember her.

Like this he could picture her in their own home, walking into the ktichen in her robe, hair a mess from the night before to kiss him goodbye on his way to work.

After Lettie had walked him down to the front door, he hadn't let her come outisde with him. She shook her head, laughing at him when he said it was one thing for him to see his girl in a robe, but no way the whole neighborhood was getting a peak. They had kissed goodbye again and again and again until he absolutely had to leave.

Then Lettie walked back up to the apartment sat down at the kitchen table with her parents, and cried.

~~~

War was hell.

Even in Brooklyn, war was hell.

Lettie had held her breath between each letter. Each of them a heaving gasp of fresh air as she opened them and read Buckys words.

She focused on her work, she'd got a job at one of the factories like so many of the other girls. She spent all day punching rivets into fuselages and often caught herself wondering what she would do with herself when the boys came back.

Lettie liked the girls she worked with, they had all become good friends. Some of them were married, a few of them had kids, a couple were single but most of her new friends had a man they loved fighting overseas. Those had been the friends she'd confided in when Bucky's letters had stopped.

War was hell.

She knew that.

He wasn't allowed to tell her much about it, but she knew that of course there would be long gaps in communication. There had never been one that had gone on so long before though and fear had settled in her stomach like a lead weight.

Isaline, who worked with her, did her best to keep her friends spirts up. Told her that her boyfriend was just busy fighting Germans, and as soon as he was able he would write her another of his lovesick letters. Telling her stories of the men in his platoon and their rowdy shenanigans.

Just when Lettie had nearly given up hope, had settled into the bleak depression of not knowing, a runner had came to her station on the line with a telegram. Her heart had stopped and her rivet gun had dropped to the ground with a clatter as she stumbled.

No.... No, no, no....

One of the married women had caught her and steadied her, shushing her in her thick Brooklyn accent.

Isa had plucked the telegram from her fingers and opened it with a pale, sickly expression on her face. An expression that had disappeared instantly, replaced with elation, in French she exclaimed, "Listen, Lettie listen. for the love of God, girl listen!"

Lettie's world stopped spinning and her eyes settled on Isa as she read the telegram, beaming.

"Doll, I'm safe, I'll write soon. Love Buck"

After that the letters started up again, this time with even more fantastical shenanigans which included Steve now which he promised to explain later, and even more promises. He loved her, he was safe, he was coming home to her as soon as this was all over.

Then one of her friends from the factory had drug them to the cinema, demanding they get dolled up and go out, boys or no boys. Which is where she saw Bucky for the first time in over a year.

There on the screen, his face scowling in concentration across from none other than Captain America, Steve Rogers. She had recognized a few others in the reels from Buckys letters, men from his platoon and the girls had giggled together as Lettie retold the stories she'd heard. Once she got home that night she had written him and informed him he very much had a lot of explaining to do.

She never got a response to that last letter.

War was hell.

Again, she found herself repeating old mantras, the weight settled back in her stomach.

This time however, it was not a telegram that knocked the wind out of her. It was Sargent James "Bucky" Barnes, leaning casually against the front of her building in the warm afternoon sun, smoking a cigarette and wating for her.

~~~

She awoke with a start, heart racing for some unknown reason. Until a warm, heavy hand settled on her waist, "Sorry doll." His voice was hushed and hoarse in the silence.

Lettie rolled over and saw, once her eyes had adjusted, Bucky lying wide awake beside her, one arm propped behind his head and his chest rising and falling faster than normal. She slid over to him and tucked herself into the space he made for her against his side. "Nightmare?" She whispered softly as she pressed a kiss to a scar on his chest, one of the thick, ugly ones, and then rested her head there.

"Mhmm." Was his only response, aside from sinking back down into the matress and pulling the covers up over them.

"Want to tell me?" She asked against his chest.

She felt and heard him swallow thickly and then his arm around her tightened. "Not this one sweeheart." He murmered into the hair at the crown of her head and then dropped a kiss there. "Just tell me I'm home."

Lettie smiled and shifted so that she could look him in the eye, take his face in her hand and kiss him. "You're home." Kiss, "You're home, in bed, with me." Another longer kiss and then she carded her fingers through his sleep mussed hair. "RIght where you belong."

Bucky hummed appreciatively, wrapped his arms tighter around her and pulled her impossibly closer. HIs body had changed, he had grown into a man over there. His chest filled out, his arms and torso no longer lean but bulky. His back was solid muscle as were his legs. He had changed too. Not for the worse, just changed. Darkness chased him, and so many others, but he was sill her Bucky.

A fact made evident when his lips carressed her throat and he murmured, "Y'know, I'm pretty sure you promised, once upon a time, to play with my hair and talk dirty to me in French if I took you out two more times."

Lettie breathed out a laugh, "Oh really? That just don't sound like me at all." She teased even as she stroked through his hair again. A nip to her collarbone brought out a giggle. "Can't believe you remember that."

Bucky hummed again and rolled up onto his side. shifting her onto her back and gazing down at her. "Lettie, I tried not to think about home too much,noene of us did, after awhile it hurt too damn much." He reached a hand up to trace her cheekbone. "But, that week with you, God there were times I played it like a movie over and over again in my mind."

The way he looked at her gave her butterfilies, just like he had back then. Lettie smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, to bring him closer.

He dropped a sleepy, short kiss to her lips and then added, "And I distanctly remember you promising to do exactly that."

Lettie laughed and pushed him off of her. "You wouldn't know what I was sayin' anyway." She pointed out as she moved back into his side and laid her head on his chest.

"You could read me a diner menu doll, and I'd be just fine." He chuckled at himself and tugged her closer, already feeling the weight of the nightmare fading. They were quiet for a long time, Bucky distracted by the warmth of her slight breath over his bare chest and the feel of her twisting the gold band on his finger over and over. He smiled, content and let his eyes fell closed as he focused on the comforting repetetive motion of his wife toying with his wedding band as she drifted back to sleep.

After awhile his eyes grew heavy and the motion of Lettie's fingers slowed. As if with her last bit of energy before sleep reclaimed her she whispered to him in the darkness, her French slow and whispy as she faded, "You're home, my love, home with me. Where you belong."

Bucky breathed deep and released it in one long exhale, all the negativity of the nightmares gone with it, and then laced his fingers throught hers. "I'm home." He followed her in sleep with his hand holding hers and a soft, content smile on his face.

~~~

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #1940s #wwii #40s bucky #40s bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic

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monniemonniee · 4 months

Text

lazy's sweets, kisses beat

microfic. wolfstar.

"remus, pass me the sticks."

sirius was laying down, his head rests snugly on remus' hips. how long they've stayed together like that, he can't tell.

probably a long time though, considering remus flipped through half of the book he's been ogling at--

and it's made sirius jealous, that this paper object has had this much of his lover's attention more than him. (he'll never say)

remus stays firm, his head bowed to the book residing next to sirius' head. he barely spares a glance towards sirius and stays in his humble silence, thoroughly occupied with his read.

sirius mumbles.

"reeeemus, c'mon," he pokes the book. then his arm holding it, and pinches his cheeks, earning a sigh from the brunette.

"c'mooon, please remus ? pass the chocky sticks. they're so good," sirius does his best doe eyes, scrubbing his eyes to further elicit a wet, shiny effect.

he was damned trying so hard, and it made remus giggle. it made remus smile.

"sirius black," he props the book down with a hand, and the other occupying the raven locks of sirius between his fingers, interlocking them in a careful coupling manner.

he leans down, his eyes locked with the gray ones below him. he licks his lips, and smiles, and reaches down.

sirius' hearts skips a beat, and closes his eyes. remus was close, oh so close. his breath grew warmer and warmer, and his heart thumped louder.

just an inch before their lips meets contact, remus nudges his head to his left and whispers,

"go get them yourself, love."

sirius screams.

"YOU'RE SO MEAN-- I was literally expecting a kiss and now you betray me!"

remus laughs. he laughs so lightheartedly it makes sirius flinch, in a good, "i want to keep making you laugh everyday" jump.

"love, you've laid on my legs for 3 hours. i'm beat. if there was a surefire way to make sure someone couldn't walk that's not sex, this would be it."

"yeah but like... you know you should've told me, right? fine i'll get them."

"yeah, but... i didn't want to disturb your rest."

he hated remus' words and much as he loved them. oh how his lover's genuineness could cause him grief and the death of his heart.

the wafer chocolate sticks were stacked on the other side of the room, hidden under the floorboards. they were the group's favourite treat, and sirius made sure there were some to go by before all was ravaged. (he learned how sneaky james was at times)

he props back down next to remus, who was busy looking at him. the same intent look he had with the book had transferred to him, and it made sirius smirk.

he props the cylindrical stick to his mouth, and almost like a cigar he holds it and bites.

"can i have one?" he pleads.

"yeah sure," he bites, a short one sticking out of his mouth. "but know i'm still mad for the kiss so you can get them by yourself."

"that's fine. i have all i need here," he holds sirius' face, firm and warm hands envelop his skin.

remus was kissing him. it was the way he liked remus best; sweeter than that of which the chocolate tastes. warmer than the hands that hold him. and beautiful, gorgeous, oh so pretty than anything he's ever laid his eyes on.

he swells when their kiss stops. he gasps, and noticed remus was munching.

"you took my chock-stick."

"yeah, it's good."

"and who's really lazy, here ?"

"you, you merely transferred it to my legs. besides, i liked it best when it's half-kissed from sirius black."

"ugh, just ask for the jar next, remus."

remus laughs.

sirius joins, and laughs.

edit : yes these are stick-o's ! if you're familiar w/them, they're filipino snacks ! heuahguhegahge i had some next to me and i just couldn't help myself.

#marauders era #hp marauders #wolfstar #sirius #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders

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somethingboutafic · 4 months

Text

Daddy Kink

Give It To Me (I'm Worth It) by sweaterpawstyles (E) word count: 3,812 Louis can't resist Harry in the red shorts that he wore during the James Corden skit. Featuring locker room sex.

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo (E) word count: 4,639 It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking. If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match

head in a flurry by leslou (E) word count: 5,630 The one where Harry slips into Louis’ dressing room for some fun and (kind of) gets rejected, Louis finds out Harry has a Daddy kink, and fucks him. HARD. Lots of orgasms.

I'm Gonna Love You (Until You Hate Me) by sweaterpawstyles (E) word count: 8,825 Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn't like to be teased.

But I'll Still Take You Home by LoadedGunn (E) word count: 9,125 Harry is 17 at a college party, and Louis is not Brian Kinney.

Secrets, Santa? by indiaalphawhiskey (E) word count: 19,443 Right, okay, so Harry had confessed his deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets to a stranger who turned out to be his boss. No big deal. This was probably just the beginning of Harry’s own hilariously heartwarming, wildly romantic Hallmark Christmas movie, come to life, right?…Right?

precious little thing by mercutionotromeo (E) word count: 21,034 a university AU featuring phone sex operator Louis, copious amounts of sweet, soft kink discovery, and Louis being Harry's Daddy.

Take Our Bodies Higher by littlelouishiccups (E) word count, 21,039 Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that. - In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

let's talk about making love by istajmaal (E) word count: 25,004 Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he's Daddy.

Even If It's Just Tonight by nothing_but (E) word count: 26,009 Louis and Harry happen to switch their suitcases in the airport's bathroom and it's possibly the best mistake Harry has ever made.

Just Breathe by Awriterwrites, dimpled_halo (E) word count: 50,779 the one where Harry and Louis are on a journey through life together — one that includes discovering dark, hidden parts of themselves that only the other can find.

Loving You Is Free by littlelouishiccups (E) word count: 67,971 Louis is a workaholic record label CEO who hasn't been on a date in nearly a year. Niall and Liam make an account for him on a sugar dating website as a joke. And then Louis meets Harry.

May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by LoadedGunn (E) word count: 74,226 On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads. The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.

Switch Out The Batteries by istajmaal, LoadedGunn (E) word count: 88,302 Two years after meeting in a sex shop, Harry's just returning to Louis from a month-long tour in the States, and they come up with a wholesome bonding exercise.

Crave by dimpled_halo (E) word count: 90,765 All eyes are on Louis Tomlinson to bring new talent to save Hanover Records from the mess the previous executive left behind. His newest artist, Harry Styles, is charismatic and everything Louis needs to revive the label. It’s up to Louis and his team to make Harry the star he was born to be. When Harry and Louis come face to face, it isn’t the first time they’ve met, and their worlds are about to be turned upside down.

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by InsightfulInsomniac (E) word count: 101,830 As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire. At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms. Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional. A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

babydoll blues by devilinmybrain(venomedveins) (E) word count: 111,512 Louis is a high profile, filthy rich label executive who has the world at his feet - a music god.. Harry is the sugar baby trying to make a name for himself singing in shady bars and hanging off the arm of Louis' biggest rival. What Louis wants, Louis gets. But what if the game gets too hot and hits a little too close to the heart?

#larry fanfiction #larry fic rec #larry fic

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makeawshclaisy · 8 months

Text

My boyfriend does not like to talk very much, but I'm happy he sent me a photo of him smiling. We haven't met yet, but I hope we have a successful relationship. He is already so kind. Sadly, I cannot focus most of the time and am forced to ramble about American drama for rich people's and my enemies' entertainment.

No, they'll always trample on my mind. I'll never be liberated. Happy to find out what it's like to be a human experiment because I love the Jewish race and hate the evil idiots who stone women for sexual immorality.

I miss you so much, Hannah. Her prayer says I'll have seven children which I hope comes true, but the Bible says, "Ask and ye shall receive," but that isn't true.

You better do it. Just do it. And I mean everything so evil who already reigns can find you and the few good people can be sad to lose another one to whatever

But like I said, Mister, like I said, Sir, I will always be waiting for you. Perhaps in death we can be together. But I made you up so that doesn't matter and God is a cruel punisher when he disciplines me but at least I found a dominant because that's what I wanted but it's a year of miracles and some are painful while beautiful at the same time but u don't need to find that out when you're sweet and perfect but few are

... this is what I'm allowed to do to higher powers of miracles, both extremely painful and sweet

... I'm happy I see you both write from time to time.

... Merry Christmas from Samta Clause. If you don't have Christmas cheer all year, people will cry because Christmas is about the gift that keeps on giving and I try but here's some words that won't go to waste hope u git my msgs geniuses and friends bc I forgot I owe u some cents and sense and sins and syns which are synonyms

I repent for being sexually immoral by looking at GIFs and reading erotica from time to time. I haven't dated in years, but now I have a boyfriend. I don't intend to marry due to what they say is my mental health, so those things comfort me(GIFs and erotica). They remind me of a husband I will probably never have, at least not happily and at least not me because others share my body psychologically. Also, I stole some things from a rich store to give to a poor store, but it didn't work out. She is a Christian, and I was being a Christian. Apparently, here are my sins. Sometimes I'm forced to lie, but I don't lie. Don't steal from people; steal from the rich because Robin Hood is a good movie. Don't listen to me because theft is a sin. Don't listen to them because why is it right for rich ppl to be rich when they inherited it and didn't work for it but some did

America is somehow the world's superpower while being under a God that allows a lot of violence and sexual immorality. Of course I'm confused, and it's impossible not to want. You can be forced to not want which is good.

Don't lie.

Don't steal.

Don't murder.

Don't have sex with other people when you're married.

Don't want.

Don't have any other god other than God.

Don't make idols, and don't worship them.

Greed

Envy

Lust

Wrath

Gluttony

Laziness

I'm never allowed to remember the rest bc I'm not allowed to get 100% anymore because evil reigns

Toodles I don't care enough to tell you the rest of the 10 commandments when not wanting is impossible and also the seven deadly sins when they say sixth commandment Satan propaganda again but whatever man I told you I don't have free will and whatever Man and Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish bc wtf kind of world is this wtf kind of simulation is this matrix idk u ask James Alberts bc he said it's a matrix and at least to ppl u pretend schizophrenia to by gaslighting them etc but whatever

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

As You Are (Bucky Barnes x fem!reader)

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and injuries, light choking, brief thigh riding/grinding, vaginal fingering with them metal fingies, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (dont be a dick, wrap that stick), fucking on sam’s couch

a/n: ok hi this fic is very self indulgent bUT YKNOW WHAT WHO CARES EKJHEJHKEJH this is my first fic for marvel and AH I hope I did Bucky justice. ENJOY YALL

This had been a terrible idea.

Right from the minute you tailed after he and Sam to the Baron’s extensive vintage car storage. Bucky had explicitly withheld any and all information regarding this little excursion to protect you but of course you’d shown up—none too jazzed about the little stunt Bucky pulled regarding the Baron. Fair.

You were right—Bucky should have called but that overwhelming guilt of dragging you into another one of his problems stopped him from pressing that little call button. He never wanted to be the reason you ended up back on the run again. Though judging by the way things were going, it was more than likely you’d be in prison by the end of the week.

Luck had your back in that sort of regard—too bad it could never rescue you from your own stubbornness and grief regarding that damn shield.

You’d taken a devastatingly hard hit from Walker—a fractured orbital, a split lip and a dislocated shoulder. All preventable—if only Bucky kept better track of you before you showed up in that warehouse alone. Left to fight the shadow of what was once a symbol of hope for some—another man playing dress-up in something that will never belong to him.

It was just their luck Bucky and Sam arrived in time—preventing you from becoming another red stain of violence splattered over that shield.

James Buchanan Barnes is not afraid of much—but fuck. Seeing you crumpled over the concrete floor, all bloodied and struggling to raise a hand to protect your face… It was the same feeling as injecting his veins with a pure shot of adrenaline and anger shrouded in fear. He promised Steve he’d look after you…

And as Sam carried you out of that warehouse you had the gall to tenderly tell them that you were just fine—as if your mouth weren’t full of blood and a face blooming with patchy bruises. The jealousy that sparked through Bucky’s chest when you clung to Sam’s chest did nothing to help that dark festering pit inside his ribcage he’s attempting to suture back together.

Bucky clenches his jaw. At least you’re asleep now. Curled up against the window, holding your injured arm in a way that limited the turbulence from jostling it. It’s the first time Bucky would describe you as fragile. He know’s you’re anything but that—stubborn mostly—yet most of all brave. It’s what Steve admired most about you—what Bucky loves most about you too. That vibrant spark flowing through your blood and how you’re not afraid to shout along to your favorite songs despite the odd looks you get. Bucky envies how self-assured you are, how you’ll never lose yourself because you know just where you’re headed. He wishes he still had that sort of drive instead of all this uncertainty and guilt clouding each muscle and fibre in his body.

Bucky doesn’t realize the jet has landed until Sam stands and and places a large hand over your shoulder. Your face scrunches as you whine and curl further into your seat. “C’mon, kiddo.” You grumble something inaudible. “You want me to carry you?”

The delicate plates of vibranium clink together as Bucky’s hand tightens into a fist, jealousy flaring hot and bright. He quickly stands, too fast to be considering anything less than awkward. Sam’s brow quirks. “I can do it.”

“It’s cool, man,” Sam says as he scoops one arm under your legs and the other around your back. “I got her.”

Bucky bristles. Whatever.

It’s not like you and him have anything together. A one sided plague of affection that you’ll never know about—he wants to tell you. Fuck, the words burn through his tongue and collect like ashes between his teeth and yet they are never voiced from self sabotage. There’s no possible way to voice how you’ve haunted his thoughts and his dream since the moment his eyes met yours. How he’s memorized the lines of your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. Bucky would know you deaf, blind, numb, in this world or any other twisted reality.

He had said that he wasn’t afraid of much, but that’s not entirely true. Eternity, oblivion, crowded rooms, being alone too long. And you. You terrify him. You have the power to pluck at the very strings of his soul and unravel him completely until he’s no more—and you don’t even know it. Bucky Barnes is less afraid of dying than he is of loosing you but that fear never once provides him the courage to tell you. You may not be a scribbled name in his book, but he still hopes that one day he’ll earn the chance to strike his cowardice and put to rest the wretched ache in his heart that he feels for you.

He wishes he told you in Wakanda, after the Blip, Riga, and right this instant. He watches Sam carry you out of the jet—what’s a little more time?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The sun is beginning to melt into the horizon, turning the expanse of water into molten gold and shimmering blues. The hazy humidity from the late afternoon heat collects at the back of Bucky’s neck and the light breeze does nothing to cool. Bucky sighs and swipes at the bead of sweat creeping down his forehead with the back of his hand—he glances up.

A ghost of a smile creeps across his lips. You’re exactly where he and Sam left you three hours ago. Surprising to be quite honest—you never did like to stay in one place for longer than ten minutes. You’re a pain in his ass, simply said.

But now—now you’re haphazardly splayed out on the lawn chair you were forced into, a juice box loosely held in your good hand while the other still remains in the sling. He can’t tell if you’re asleep—Steve’s sunglasses do an excellent job of hiding your eyes. Yet as Bucky wanders closer, your head rolls to your right in greeting.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know,” you grumble, lifting the juice box to your mouth. Your lips purse around the plastic straw. “And before you ask—yes, I have a very important job I’m currently overseeing.”

Bucky quirks a brow. “What—hogging the lawn chair?”

“No—“ You huff. You gesture with your juice box at the large cooler your sandaled feet are propped up on. “I’m the booze master. God of the ale, destroyer of sobriety—“

“Alright, Booze Master,” Bucky interrupts with a snort. “Why don’t you bestow upon me a beer, your majesty.”

You tap your index finger over your chin as a lazy smile fixes itself over your lips. “Granted.”

You slide your legs off the cooler and with a pained grunt you shift forward. Bucky shoots his arm out and steadies you back against the chair by your shoulder before you get any further. Your face pulls into a grimace.

“I got it, kid. Relax.”

Bucky pops open the cooler and fishes out a beer and pops the cap off between his left index finger and thumb. You watch with a frown, “I could’ve done that for you.”

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes and takes a seat on the cooler. The bitter fizz floods his tastebuds as he takes a sip of his drink, a tangible silence blanketing the space between you. He gets it—people like he and you can never settle for complacency. As if the rest isn’t deserved despite the bloody knuckles and the shattered glass that slices through skin—the bruises and the broken bones. None of it is enough—not worthwhile to preserve yourself when other’s so desperately need your help.

Or maybe it’s penance.

Bucky sure as shit finds himself swallowed by the black maw of guilt each and every day. Battling the never ending shadow of doubt that clings to his soul like glitter to a an old carpet. Bucky believes it’s safe to say that you’re the same—every good deed you do added to the imaginary scale weighing against the bad despite it feeling hollow and insurmountable. Paying in blood to equate the amount you’ve spilled. A hopeless battle you both insist on fighting.

Bucky sighs through his nose, bends at the waist and collects both your ankles in his left hand. You let him lift them both and settle your legs over his knees. You shiver, an eruption of goosebumps rushing up your skin at the cold metallic shock of Bucky’s vibranium thumb scrapinh over your bare flesh.

Bucky’s lips tilt down ever so slightly. “Did I hurt you?”

“Never,” you rush to say before he has the chance to flee. “S’just cold.”

His hum reverberates low in his chest as those cerulean blue eyes fall to his hands. You clench your jaw until your teeth ache as his left thumb continues to stroke over the delicate skin covering the joint of your ankle. This is…new…

You’d been close with Steve and Sam, and by proxy Bucky—in some weird adjunct way. Compared to Sam’s teasing bumps of the shoulder and that infectious laugh far more addicting than the golden liquor of the sun, Bucky is frigid. Still attempting to shake off the whole Winter Soldier thing that’s molded onto his bones like stubborn permafrost. Touch had always been tricky with him—even a friendly pat over the back or a simple tap to the harm had him tensing under the touch—muscle and steel bunching to prepare for a harsh blow that would never arrive. Never from you.

Bucky rarely sought out your physical comfort—you were always the one to initiate those friendly touches even if he was the type to just sit and ignore you like a grouchy old cat barely clinging onto that ninth life. The first time he breached that fragile barrier was in Wakanda—something in Bucky cracked and split into a cavernous ravine of nebulosity. Stitches shred apart then stapled back together as he grabbed your arm and wrestled you into a bone-crushing hug. You didn’t need to ask to realize he cried the entire time, gripping your shirt like a lifeline while he shuddered and sobbed into the crook of your neck. To him everything from the rain to silk sheets felt like shrapnel and the stars tasted like old blood and the past of things long gone—yet you were familiar.

A comfort for the much needed healing of the scattered pieces of a man. You don’t mind helping him pick up the tidbits and reattach them with veins of silver. It’s the least you can do.

The second time occurred after the loss of Steve. Some part of you had been wrenched out with his departure and he never bothered to return it. It doesn’t matter anymore—the hollow ache had been soothed with the Winter Soldier clutching you to his chest until you drifted off into a fitful sleep. A tether to a new reality you both partake in.

Which brings you to now. There’s no cathartic reasoning behind his touch…it’s simple…a risky leap of faith into unknown territory. Bucky’s eyes lift to meet yours—curiosity swimming in those icy irises. You don’t mind—in fact you quite like the calloused warmth of his hand and the opposing chilly metal one tentatively exploring your exposed skin.

“You have a scar here,” Bucky murmurs, skimming the thumb made up of flesh and sinew over the mottled skin occupying the crease of where the top of your foot meets your ankle.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I fell on barbed wire.”

“Clumsy,” he chides, quirking a dark brow.

Your shoulders bounce with a huff. “I was like—twelve when it happened, James.”

His mouth quirks in a half smile, quite liking the validation of his name in the way your mouth speaks it. He wonders if you know the weight of granting you that leeway of calling him that. Shit—he doesn’t care what you call him, everything sounds lovely when you say it.

There’s another silence—holding your breath until something splits and shatters into a million pieces. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want anything more than just friendship with Bucky but fear of rejection is a tricky thing. You take the easy way out and offer him the chance of something more on a silver platter.

“Bucky?”

His fingers whisper up your shin as he inclines his head.

“I’m tired. Drive me back to Sam’s?”

“Sure thing, doll.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bucky holds the door open for you as you stumble in, escaping the hazy southern heat. He disappears into the kitchen as you make a beeline straight for the couch, sighing loudly once the plush cushions meet your back. You lazily lift your head once you hear his familiar footfalls nearing.

With him he brings two Otterpops, one blue raspberry and the other cherry. Once he hands it to you he takes a seat on your left, close enough that his thigh and shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t tell Sarah’s kids that these were the last ones.”

You roll your eyes and promptly stick the Otterpop into you mouth. “‘M ain’t no snitch.”

His low chuckle reverberates through his chest. The silence that follows isn’t an awkward one as you enjoy the cold treat—it’s filled with the humming cicada bugs outside and the breeze through the wind chimes. Comfortable with the normalcy—just a couple of regular old people enjoying life for a suspended amount of seconds.

Once you finish the Otter Pop, you crumple the plastic up and rest it on the coffee table. He does the same—hints of the blue syrup sticking to the cracks of his plush lips. You force yourself to avert your eyes. You cheeks heat with a flush as you rush to occupy your mind with anything but wild fantasies of Bucky’s mouth. You lean forward again, pointedly ignoring the way Bucky’s eyes track your movements as you shuck off your sling, the prickle of unused muscles and bruised ligaments rushing through the limb. You wince as you slowly roll your shoulder.

The muscles in Bucky’s jaw clenches. You sigh—he’s still blaming himself for your injuries. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not everyone has freaky healing powers, Buck,” you snort. You rush to appease him when he frowns. “It’s getting better though. Still can’t sleep on it—but eh.”

“I’m sorry.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. No matter how many times you tell him he’ll never believe you. That’s something only he can fix. Doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway. “Stop blaming yourself for my idiocy. I made my choice and paid the price for it.”

Bucky’s eyes drop to his hands. “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Steve told me to look after you.”

Your heart constricts within your chest like a fist. You inhale and reach out to rest your hand over his wrist. “Funny—he told me the same thing about you.”

It surprises him—his dark brows furrow as his mouth parts, but nothing comes forth. Grappling with the right words that fit with what he feels. He’s still learning how to give his soul a name that fits. Learning how to take the dark, twisted bramble of his heart and make it into something that doesn’t ache each time it beats. He’s still learning how to look himself in the eyes, point to himself and say that there’s nothing frightening in there. Not anymore. No more.

You suck in a breath and muster up the embers of courage. Here goes nothing—

You cup Bucky’s cheek, the scrape of stubble welcome against your warm palm as you gently turn his face to look at you. His eyes drift to yours when the mumbled syllables of his name tumble from your lips. His eyes are framed with dark circles of wildflower bruises, his small smile a moonbeam stark against battered skin. You’ve dreamt so many times of swallowing it whole and pressing him close enough that your heartstrings become entangled with no hope of separation. But that’s something for him to decide.

You drop your hand cradling Bucky’s jaw, but before your hand completely falls Bucky surges forward. His large hands rush to cup your face, swallowing your noise of surprise as his plush lips fall onto yours. The syrupy flavor of a Blue Raspberry Otter Pop he stole from Sarah’s freezer lingers on Bucky’s mouth, mixed in with the smell of old leather and cracked cardamom. Bucky nips at your bottom lip, tugging once and then rolling it between the blunt enamel of his teeth. Despite all the bad jokes regarding his age and senior citizen status—fuck he’s a damn good kisser. Compared to him you feel clumsy, sloppy, but no matter how hard you search for his distaste he doesn't seem to care in the slightest—if anything he’s pulling you closer.

Bucky’s kisses may taste like the middle of June and a first love, but desperation lines every action like a wound with jagged edges. It’s a slow process learning to be free, but one day he’ll transform into starlight—and instead of a kiss like fire, it’ll be like touching your lips to a constellation’s aureate mouth.

When Bucky pulls away, sucking in air and resting his forehead on yours, you catch a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed and smelling a bit like Sam’s shampoo. Your lips quirk. You’ll make sure to keep that a secret from Sam.

You pull back just enough to meet his eye, resting your palm over his vibranium hand that still cups your cheek. “Am I the first person you’ve kissed since the stone ages?”

His lips pull into a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, skating your palm down the front of his shirt, the heat of his skin near searing through the fabric. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do, huh?”

Bucky’s lips smother your small moan as he drags you into another kiss. You can feel his smile as he murmurs his agreement between desperate kisses and the enticing warmth of his tongue skimming along yours. The next time you part for air, Bucky drops his strong hands from your face to instead wrap them around the curve of your hips. He tugs you over his right thigh with ease and breathes a gentle sigh of your name, beginning to pepper kisses over you cheek and down the slope of your jaw.

Bucky reaches your ear and carefully nibbles the cartilage, his voice a warm scrape in your ear. “I want you.”

It’s such a simple phrase…and yet…it tears through you and pools like a heavy weight right to your center. “Then take me.”

Quick as a strike of a match, you’re tipped backwards, cradled right between the arm of the couch and the back of it. Heat rushes through each limb and gathers in your cheeks as Bucky’s vibranium fingers skate up your chest and curl around the column of your throat—that hardened soldier he’s tried to bury bleeding through the cracks of his resolve. You don’t care. You gasp into his mouth as he squeezes ever so slightly while he pushes a firm thigh between your legs. Shit—this is how you’re gonna die—grinding on Bucky’s muscled leg while he’s got a hand around your throat.

What a way to go.

With his other hand he grips the meat of your thigh and pulls you higher, grinding the rough material of his jeans covering his crotch into yours. You whine and arch into him. You need more.

You both stay here for a good while up until it feels like you’re ready to burst at the seems if you don’t have him now. Bucky is no better—cheeks flushed as he fumbles with the zipper to relieve the noticeable bulge straining against it. Impatient and needy, you shoo away his hands and do it yourself, easily sliding your warm hand down his navel and over his boxers to palm at his cock. Bucky’s hand twitches around your neck, a sweet groan filling the air when you softly squeeze him through the elastic.

“Fuck, you’re gonna…” Bucky trails off and buries his nose into the crook of your neck. “Gonna make me cum in my pants if you don’t—don’t stop.”

While the thought is tempting, you want this to last just a little bit longer. Rush after the glorious high of just being near him, his kisses, everything about him. Bucky grunts at the loss of your hand and mouths a wet trail of sloppy kisses up your neck and returns to your lips. When you part he sweeps a stray strand of hair and tucks it behind your ear. He smiles softly.

“Can I try something?” He breaths. Before he can even tell you what his idea is, you’re happily nodding along. “Wanna taste you. Been thinking about it ever since Wakanda.”

Oof. His words shoot straight your center. “Bucky—why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

His mouth quirks. “You make me nervous.”

Rolling your eyes you plant a kiss on his forehead and grant him his simple desire. Bucky sits and slides to the floor, close enough that he’s still able to hover over you. You lift your hips as Bucky tugs your shorts and underwear down and off your legs. Besides the general anxieties of being half naked in front of an incredibly attractive man and performing something so sinful on a friend’s couch—there’s a strange stroke of pride that alights through each of your vertebrae. A powerful man willingly dropping to his knees to please you.

Bucky shoots you a smile and slides his hands around your ribcage, bends forward slightly and captures you mouth in a deep kiss. He parts and nips down your jaw and over your throat, sliding his tongue over the marks he leaves with his teeth as if to soothe the slight sting. You whine and arch into him as he slides lower, leaving an obvious trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake until he reaches the collar of your shirt. Bucky moves his palms under the fabric to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples that peak through your bra. You suck in a shaky breath when Bucky catches the pebbled bud between his forefinger and thumb, the hard vibranium of his fingers scraping over it. A low hum rumbles through his chest as he leans forward to playfully nip at your collarbone.

“I wanna see you naked.” Bucky admits as he slips his hands out of your shirt. You shiver as those chilly metal fingers gently come to rest on the outside of your bare thighs.

“Not here, Buck,” you sigh. “T-they—fuck—they can come back any minute.”

Bucky quirks a brow, eyes dropping between your legs, then back up with a smirk. His plush lips part, yet before he can disprove your silly point—that your bare ass is already out and taking off the shirt would barely make a difference—you interject.

“Shut up.”

His shoulders bounce with a chuckle. “You have such a way with words, y’know that?”

You make a noise low in your throat and reach out to sharply tug his ear. He easily bats your hand aside, hooks his hands under your ass and hauls until you’re all but hanging over the edge of the cushions. You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core as Bucky lowers himself and wedges his shoulder between your thighs. He slides his hand over your calfs and wrestles them over his broad shoulders—earning a perfect view of your pussy. You’re already wet—worked up and running on borrowed time. You roll your head back onto the back of the couch and clench your jaw. You don’t want to rush him but Christ—you really don’t want Sam or Sarah to find you like this.

It feels like ages before Bucky’s lips touch your belly and then your navel with his warm tongue. With a grunt he shoves your shirt up to your breasts and circles your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue—his enhanced strength easily pinning you down as you jerk and giggle.

Bucky picks up his head and grins. “Try and hold still, doll.”

No sharp retort comes to mind. Fuck—he’s already got you so expertly wrapped around his finger.

Bucky hums, satisfied with your weak nod and continues on.

Bucky’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver that rushes through your body. They tickle towards the apex of your thighs and settle close enough to reach your aching center. He pauses for a moment and while you know he’s there, you curse when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They gently work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction as your body adjusts to the feel of flash and vibranium. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch.

Unsatisfied with simply touching you, Bucky shifts his weight to better reach your core. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”

There's a moment just before Bucky swoops down, face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, warm breath fan across you inner thighs. Anticipation grips your heart with an iron hold, and then— Bucky licks a broad stripe from the base of your cunt all the way up to your swollen clit. His mouth is molten, tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his hair. Bucky grunts against you as you drag him closer by the short strands—greedy for any and all touch he gifts you. Bucky’s mouth slips around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as a quiet moan wrenches free from your vocal cords.

He trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your soaking entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your cunt, skips over it completely to catch the wetness before it leaks over the couch. Bucky opens his mouth wide and groans in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. Desperation lingers on his tongue and all you are is the honey sweet taste of salvation.

“Shit—Bucky,” you cry, throwing your hips forward in search of more friction.

It's perfect. So fucking delicious.

You tense as the vibranium tips of his fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the clenching ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The chilly digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness. With a self-satisfied grin, Bucky thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that makes everything ache with desire. It leaves you just hovering over the sharp edge of ecstasy, the catch of his knuckles and imperceptible metal plating dragging along your walls pure torture. Fuck—he’s going to be the death of you—

Bucky’s mouth dips down a second time and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. You're flying off that edge, faster than a fucking freight train. You cum onto his tongue and fingers with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Bucky continues to lick you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Supernovas implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jet fuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Bucky murmur his praise—feeling the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue.

Your brain swims in hazy bliss as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it damn near hurts. You're too sensitive. Nerves rubbed raw and still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. Bucky is all too happy to remain between your legs—takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his hot tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a vibranium razor against bare flesh. Your thighs shake around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves. You cry out as an orgasm floods through you veins, rupturing each cell in your being with molten pleasure. Your core pulses around Bucky’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease to a fading throb. You whine and push at his forehead because he's still going. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick.

“Feel good?” Bucky purrs, resting his cheek on your thigh.

If judging by the way you thighs still quiver and your chest heaves—then yeah—it felt good.

Cheeky bastard.

“Get up here—“

You grapple with his shirt, fisting the thin fabric, but he’s heavy and your entire body feels like jello. Your grip strength is all but laughable at the moment as Bucky clambers back onto the couch and grabs both of your legs, slotting his narrow hips between them. One leg is stuck against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, foot skimming the hardwood floor to accommodate Bucky. Not the most comfortable but fuck it—who cares.

Bucky grunts when you lift your hands and hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging them halfway down his legs with a sharp yank. Already a dark patch of wetness stains the fabric of his boxers, the impressive bulge straining against the elastic and begging to be released. Your eyes meet his icy blue ones as you slowly pull his boxers over his cock. It bounces up towards his navel, thick and beautiful just like the rest of him.

Impatient, Bucky’s fingers curl around your wrist and presses your open palm against his cock. He’s thick and heavy in your hand—perfect. The bead of precum that pools at his flushed tip smears against the inside of your palm as you experimentally roll your wrist, fascinated with the feel of his foreskin rolling over the steel heard flesh with each stroke.You give his a cock a rougher squeeze, a bolt of liquid heat settling in the pit of your stomach as a stifled moan reaches your ears.

A sharp hiss of hair passes through his clenched teeth as you lightly tug on his cock. From the base up you pull, fixed upon the throbbing flesh, flushed and pulsing and all for you. His cock bobs when you let go—he huffs out a disappointed noise. “I need you, Buck—please.”

Your previous two orgasms did seemingly nothing to soothe the growing ache for him. It prickles up your spine and singes through every nerve and bone—you whine and arch your hips, trying to touch your slick cunt to his cock. Bucky growls your name and pins your hips to the couch with ease.

With his left hand, Bucky firmly grips your jaw, his stare folding into something serious. “You sure?”

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip. You grin. “Do your worst.”

Bucky curses and readjusts your calf slung over his hip and grips the base of his cock. You shudder as he runs the blunt head through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and arch. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s certainly not small in any way shape or form. You’ll feel him for days afterwards as your cunt swallows inch after inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw clenched tight as sweat beads at his hairline. Shit—he’s gorgeous—struggling not to loose control the moment he’s buried inside of you. You allow yourself to adjust for a moment but your own impatience rakes down your spine with claws of scorching arousal. You rock your hips in curiosity and squeeze around him.

“Fuck—“ A ragged moans severs his words as your gentle rocking tilts into abrasive jolts. At this angle it’s difficult to fuck yourself onto his cock, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. His left hand shoots to your throat, the chilly metal a stark contrast to your flushed skin. You dip your head back, exposing more of your supple skin—all his for the taking.

You dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back and grab at his shoulders—tempting him into fucking you already. You’ve waited long enough. Bucky snarls your name, hooks one hand under your ass and pulls his cock nearly all the way, out only to slam back in with devastating force. There’s no time to adjust or gather your obliterated thoughts before Bucky sets a pace, desperate and feral. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what seems like a millennia—and maybe it has been. Bucky shifts, widening his knees as much as he can to sink lower onto your body—his soft hair tickles your cheek as his choppy exhales burn hot over your skin.

Bucky turns his head to steal a kiss, open mouthed and catastrophic. No words are exchanged as he fucks into you with brutal strength aided by that damn super-soldier serum—there’s no need for them, not now anyway. You complete each other without the spoken utterances—still both a work in progress. Though most things are you suppose—constantly remaking yourselves, but instead of smashing the haphazard pieces back together alone—you have one another. You bury your hand in his hair and cry his name.

You choke out another groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter and damn—you really hope nothing gets on this stupid couch. You don’t want to explain that Sam.

Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, blazing through each and every vein with the brilliance of a wildfire escaping the edges of the forest. This is gonna ruin you. Bucky’s hand reaches between your bodies and rubs tight, controlled circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a calamitous surge of warmth that sweeps your very soul off its feet. Your nails dig into Bucky's back as you shake and fumble for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor.

You have no time to recover because he’s still going. Thrusting into your pussy with violent slaps that echo through the room and will more than likely leave bruises against your ass. Through the pressure of his hand over your windpipe—threatening to cut your air off completely—you garble out his name. Bucky drops his head to his chin, the weight of his gaze landing between your legs, watching the way his entire length disappears inside of you. When he raises his head he molds his mouth to yours. The soft, wet kisses rapidly morph into pricks of his teeth, his gravelly moans so pleasing to hear.

You arch and tilt your head back as he presses you harder into the couch. The vibranium hand latched onto your jaw, works it open and slides a thumb past your plush lips. You lave your tongue over the digit—the metallic tang flooding your tastebuds. “Good girl—m’close. A little longer.”

Bucky’s panting breaths mingle with yours as his pace turns vicious. Chasing his high that he so desperately needs. Overstimulation bites at your nerves, but with a gentle tug to the soft strands of hair on the back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, Bucky bursts. His moan jumps up an octave, eyes slamming shut as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he cums. He’s shuddering in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides. You whine and tilt your hips up to prevent it from spilling onto the couch.

Finally he slows to a stop, ragged breathing filling the air as the heat and weight of his body becomes a welcome comfort. Eventually that warmth grows stifling. He lazily pulls away, observing gaze drinking in each inch of bare skin exposed—the marks and the light sheen of sweat. You hiss as he curiously drags his thumb over the bite mark lingering just above your collarbone.

He parts his plush lips but before he can apologize, you interject. “Don’t—I like the reminder.”

Bucky shakes his head and drops down to tempt your lips into a lazy dance. “You’re a weirdo.”

You smile and cup his cheek. “I’m not the one with a staring problem. You know that you can’t kill people by glaring, right?”

Bucky kisses your cheek, your jaw, and then the dip of your throat. “You don’t ever shut up, do you?”

You shudder as his softening cock twitches inside of you, another coal of desire flaring in the pit of your stomach. You flash him a coquettish grin. “Maybe if you give my mouth something to do, you’ll finally get some peace and quiet.”

Something dark and dangerous flickers within those eyes. You shiver as one hand returns to your throat while the other draws teasing patterns over the outside of your thigh. He draws in close, nips at the shell of your ear and chuckles darkly. “You’re on.”

#weLL here we are in a marvel hole kwejrkwejhr #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #tfatws #the avengers x reader #my writing

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jamesbuchannan · 3 years

Text

like we’ll never have sex | jbb

summary: reader has had the worst of luck with dating, and maybe this one seems promising. (we’ll never have sex by leith ross)

a/n: this is so rushed because this song has been completely consuming every fiber of my being. this song is not yet out on streaming platforms, but the artist, leith ross, has recorded it and will be releasing it. if you would like to get a better understanding of the sound, you can find it on their tiktok @/leithross. they go by they/them so if you venture to their tiktok, please be mindful. ALSO this is not proof read heheh im lazy :)

warnings: slight themes of SA, talk of self image issues, terrible dates, dating anxiety, hookup culture (no actual smut). please, do not read this if any of these things can be triggering to you, as that is not my intention.

Oh you kissed me

Just to kiss me

Not to take me home

It was simple

It was sweetness

It was good to know

Over the course of several months you had realized dating was hard.

Dating for you had been a series of terrible dates with average men, whose main goal was to take you home and sleep with you. You weren’t a teenager anymore, and you weren’t looking for dates that seem serious just to end in a casual hookup. And to be honest, it stung every. single. time.

Was your personality not good enough? Did you not make good conversation? Were you only good enough for your body?

It was these questions that plagued you after every date, as you laid in bed wondering when someone will like you for more than just sex.

“I bought you dinner, it’s the least you could do.”

Why? Why do men think they have the right to your body over a twenty dollar meal? (or at all). And why did he have to say it with his hand on your ass? It felt dirty, it felt wrong.

So you decided, you’ll give it one last shot. If this date didn’t work out, you’ll give up trying.

You met James through a mutual friend.

“My friends call me Bucky.”

Bucky.

It was an unusual name, but it seemed to fit him perfectly. His brown hair, scruff, and soft blue eyes had caught your interest almost immediately. You knew this one was gonna hurt.

You had talked for hours over dinner, the longest date you had been on in months. He told you about his time in the military and how he ended up with a bionic arm. He blushed as he spoke about it, like you would hate it. You didn’t. You told him about your childhood, and what you do for work. It was nearly perfect.

Until this moment.

He had walked you to your door, and you were starting to get nervous.

He’s just like all of the others, isn’t he?

He began to lean in, when your hand landed on his chest, keeping his lips from meeting yours.

“I don’t want to hookup with you,” you sighed. Of course this is happening again. You sit there, waiting for the, you owe me this, but it never comes.

“Oh no, I-I wasn’t trying to imply I wanted to sleep with you, doll” his eyes are wide, “I mean, I would love to sleep with you! One day if you would want, just- just not today. I just, I just wanted to kiss you, just to kiss you, no ulterior motive. Oh but no pressure or anything! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

So you kiss him. You place your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him towards your lips as you close your eyes.

It was simple. It was sweetness.

Master Taglist:

@criminallyautumn

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #jamesbuchannan #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

feelings are fatal (21/24)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader

word count: 4,110

summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

chapter warnings: swearing, violence, fluffiness, SMUT

masterlist

a/n: you guys

“Stevie?” You murmured softly as you laid on his chest, tracing shapes on his shoulder absentmindedly.

“Yeah, honey?” He asked with a grunt, his eyes closed. He was clearly really, really close to falling asleep, but…

You couldn’t sleep.

You were wide awake, the only sign of exhaustion being the ache between your legs.

Steve had just gotten back from a mission a few hours before. It had been no contact for a week as he took down this bad guy or that bad guy in… Where was it this past time? South Korea? Seoul, you were pretty sure.

Though, you didn’t understand why he was considered ‘undercover’ anywhere, considering the fact that he kind of stood out no matter what he did.

“Have you… Have you ever thought about marriage?” You asked, voice trembling. You two had been together for a few months, but… He’d already told you he loved you.

And you just wanted to know if you two were on the same page for the future.

Your boyfriend’s body went tense underneath you, and a sense of dread filled your heart.

You knew you shouldn’t have asked such a dumb fucking question.

“Sweetheart…,” he said slowly, coughing to clear the lump in his throat as he smoothed down your hair. “You know I love you, right?” He relaxed a little as you responded immediately with an affirming nod.

You sat up as he did, straddling him as he cupped your face in his hands. You needed to be close to him, pressed against his chest and leeching his warmth.

“The man that wanted marriage… kids… the whole picket fence thing…” He took in a shaky breath. “He died in the ice… That’s not saying that I don’t want a future with you, because I do! You’re my girl. You’re my forever,” he said reassuringly, his lips finding your forehead. “I don’t need to involve the government to know that—they’ve involved themselves in my business enough—or a dumb piece of paper. If you want a ring, I’ll buy you all the rings you could ever want.” Steve gave you a warm smile, the same smile that was plastered all over tabloids and history books alike. “Besides… We don’t need a piece of paper as long as we’ve got each other, right?” He asked.

“Right,” you said without hesitation, giggling as his lips pressed to yours and he flipped you over, ready to ravish you all over again.

“Malen’kaya?”

You stared out the window above the kitchen sink, elbow deep in soapy water.

“Honey?”

Vaguely, you can hear the mirth in his voice, tinged with a bit of worry.

But you’re too busy staring out the window, watching as the storm raged outside and rain pounded against the glass.

“Sweetheart? Darling?”

You’d watched Steve leave you from this window. Your life had ended, or so you thought.

So much had changed since then, and… And it was all for the better.

You jumped a foot in the air as gentle hands found your hips. His metal appendage slipped under your sweatshirt, gently rubbing your tummy. “H-Hi.”

“Hi,” he chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? You’ve been staring off into space for ten minutes.”

Sure enough, you realized that the formerly hot water in the sink had gone cold and most of the bubbles had disappeared.

“I was just thinking…”

“Oh, yeah? Sounds dangerous.” He let out a laugh as you smacked his arm, not caring that you were getting him wet.

“I was just thinking about the last time we were here and I was in this spot… and how much better my life is,” you said.

You could feel his sharp inhale at your words, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin. “Yeah? You mean it, pretty girl?” He asked, his lips ghosting against your shoulder.

“I mean it.”

Bliss surrounded you two like a heavy blanket as he held you, the both of you relishing the closeness.

“Maybe we should just stay here forever,” you said with a lazy smile, finishing the dishes as he held you.

Bucky hummed softly, his eyes closed. There was no way he was going to disagree. “Why are you washing the dishes by hand if we’ve got a dishwasher? A very expensive one, might I add.”

“Because,” you snorted, rinsing your hands and drying them after letting the water out. “Sometimes it’s better to do things yourself…” Heart warm, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as he slowly began to rock you back and forth.

A hum from deep in his chest lulled you, some forties song.

“Heaven… I’m in heaven,” he started to sing, surprisingly well. “And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak, and I seem to find the happiness I seek when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek…”

It was all you had ever dreamed of, when you were younger. Like in that dingy motel room. Despite knowing it was wrong and he wouldn’t take advantage of you like that, you had so wanted the Soldat to love you. You had wanted him to take you like how the older girls had talked about when you were barely a teenager.

Of course, it hadn’t been your Soldat doing that. He wasn’t like that.

But the other Soldats had been, and you were lucky that yours had protected you so well as you’d gotten older.

“Yes, heaven… I'm in heaven, and the cares that hung around me through the week seems to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak when we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

“Isn’t this song usually a lot faster?” You asked, a smirk playing on your lips. “Are you just so elderly that you can’t keep up, Barnes?” Squeals filled the air as he tickled your sides, and you thrashed in his hold. “Jamie! Jamie! No!”

Hot breath tickled against your ear as he stopped. “Are you gonna let me be all sweet with you or are you gonna keep being such a brat?” He asked, squeezing you close once again.

God, you’d let him sweet with you all he wanted and then some.

“I guess you can be sweet with me,” you said after a moment, voice breathy and barely audible. “Especially since you actually aren’t a half-bad singer.”

“Not as good as you,” he said, beginning to rock you once more as lightning lit up the sky outside, a clap of thunder following soon after. “I love listening in when you’re putting Morgan to sleep… singing her those little lullabies…” He pressed a kiss to your hair before he continued on, “Oh, I'd love to climb the mountain, reach the highest peak, but it doesn't thrill me half as much as dancing cheek to cheek.” He finished the rest of the song, before humming a faint melody as your head lulled back against his shoulder.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, James.”

“And you’re mine.”

Bucky, the loving man that he is, led you to the couch and tucked himself in beside you. “Friday, turn on the fireplace,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you. The hunk of a man pulled you to his chest and onto his lap. “You know, if we keep joking about staying here forever, I’m gonna take it seriously and you’ll be stuck here with me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me,” you said, your lower lip tugged between your teeth as you leaned back against him. Your fingers ran up and down his arm, tickling his skin. “Just you and me… Maybe Morgan can come visit…”

“Or we can go live in the woods like a bunch of cavemen,” he said. You could feel his lips turning into a slow smile against your shoulder. “You wanna watch a movie? We could continue on our journey of catching me up on pop culture.”

You turned to look at him, mouth opening with a response. But as soon as you looked into his eyes, every thought you had ever had just disappeared.

The cerulean of his eyes seemed to pop, glittering in the flickering warm light of the fire. Shadows danced on his face and for a moment you could’ve sworn he was a Greek god.

You have compared him to Hades many a time in your head.

Bucky breathed out your name, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“James… I—” You suddenly cut yourself off as you rushed forward, pressing your lips to his in a fierce, passionate kiss. It wasn’t like the one from the aquarium. This one held so much more.

“I need you,” he breathed out as he kissed you over and over again, his hands cupping your face. His broad chest was pressed against yours as he moved one arm to wrap it around you and lay you down on the soft couch. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.”

“Trust me, I’ve probably been dreaming of it longer,” you insisted with a snort, the two of you laughing into the kiss.

You never used to laugh with Steve during sex. It was always so serious, so intense.

You liked being able to laugh while the love of your life was holding you, touching you, kissing you like you’d never been kissed before.

Bucky pulled back enough to look you in the eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ve been dreaming of it way longer than you have.”

You sit up on your elbows so you can kiss your noses together. “Jamie… I’ve been dreaming of this since I was sixteen.” A smile spread over your face as you watched his cheeks go red.

“That’s not fair,” he insisted as he pouted at you. “If I wanted you like that back then, I would’ve been a sicko. You were allowed to have a crush on me without being a creep.”

There’s another round of kiss-drunk giggles as you peck his lips over and over again. “Not my fault. Though I do really appreciate that you didn’t see me that way when I was a literal child.”

His vibranium hand slips up underneath your top, tickling your tummy as he left a trail of kisses down your neck. “Not that I didn’t find you absolutely adorable back then, but can we please not talk about you as a child right now?” He murmured against the delicate skin of your neck.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine,” you said, trying to joke but losing your voice as his lips found a particularly sweet spot right along your collarbone. “Oh, Jamie…” Your skin feels like it’s on fire everywhere he touches you. “Fuck…” You barely heard him curse about how small the couch was for his super soldier frame, before he scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Arms wrapping around him, you found his lips again as you kissed him deeper. “Where we goin,’ Jamie?” You asked with an impish grin.

“Right here,” he said, chuckling as he laid you down on the fur rug in front of the fireplace.

Tony had resorted to only buying fur from indigenous vendors. Hell, he’d given Natasha a whole lecture about how her faux fur and faux leather (AKA plastic) clothing and accessories were worse for the environment than real fur and leather.

Which was true.

He’d spent the last decade of his life doing everything he could to turn his life around, even though he did mess up quite a few times.

But you’d rather not be thinking about the environmental logistics of fur at the moment.

The only thing about fur you wanted to think about was how soft it was against your skin as Bucky laid you down, leaning over you and pecking your lips over and over again.

“Comfortable?” He mumbled in between kisses.

The fire crackled beside you as you nodded breathlessly, shivering as his hand found its way to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it.

“Can I take this off, darlin?’” He asked, his voice husky and deep, slow like molasses.

You were pretty sure you heard a bit of his old Brooklyn accent slipping in there.

Fuck, that was fucking hot.

“Please,” you said, lifting your arms so he could tug it off of your frame and toss it somewhere to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” the man breathed out as he looked at you under him. His hands went to your cotton sleep shorts next, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours in a silent question.

“I trust you,” you said, lifting your hips for him.

It was like a wave of reassurance had washed over him. He carefully tugged your shorts down and pulled them down your legs. The shorts did get caught on your foot, and he scowled as he had to untangle it, though he clearly wasn’t actually mad.

The air was soft and light around you, which you hadn’t been expecting. When you’d had sex with anyone else, it was always so heavy and hot and intense. Stifling, was the word you were looking for. It felt like you were performing when you were naked with anyone else.

With James, in your mismatched laundry day lingerie, you felt more like yourself than you ever had been.

“I like this,” he teased as he nodded to your Calvin Klein bralette and your bright tie-dye patterned panties. His flesh hand had wrapped around your ankle and was holding your foot up so it was up at his chest. “I didn’t know it was possible to look so cute and so sexy at the same time.” He pressed a kiss to your inner ankle, right next to the bone. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Jamie,” you whined, instinctively covering your face. “Stop it.”

“What? Nah. That would make me a liar. A liar by omission,” he said as he kissed up your calf, taking his sweet time. Occasionally he’d give a little nip and smirk at the way you jumped. “And baby girl, we both know I’d never lie to you.”

You’d never been loved on the way he was loving on you. Your insecurities seemed to disappear under his heated but adoring gaze. “James…” You wanted to reach out and pull him to you for another kiss, but at the same time, you never wanted him to stop the trail he was leaving up to your knee.

“You know, I could spend hours just looking at you…,” he said as he started to lay down between your legs, his lips pressed against your inner thigh. “I went to art school back in the day… and I could fill an entire gallery with pictures, sketches, paintings, sculptures of you.”

Despite how calm he seemed, you could feel the slight trembling of his hands, could hear the waver in his voice.

He was nervous.

His baby blues focused in on the wet spot at the front of your panties, his breath hitching in his throat. “Can I touch you, baby doll? Please?” The second you nodded, his hands were on the thin, silky fabric, and you gasped as you heard the tell-tale rip.

“You ripped my panties?! Those are one of my favorite pairs!” You whined, pouting. “And all my other pairs are in the laundry!”

“Good thing I can buy you a million more,” he shot back with a sheepish grin. “And I don’t think you’re gonna need panties for the rest of the day, honey. Or clothing, for that matter.”

Rolling your eyes, you peeled your bra off your body and threw it in the general direction of the couch. “You’re such a bad influence.” But every thought in your head completely disappeared as he leaned in and his tongue ran through your slick folds. The moan he let out shook you to your core. “Holy shit,” you cursed as your hands flew to his head.

Bucky just smiled as your fingers tightened in his hair and accidentally pulled as he did it again. “You taste like heaven,” he said into your pussy as he sucked one of your folds into his mouth. Using his fingers, he spread your pussy open so he could get a good look, letting out a groan. “So pretty… So soft.”

“Jamie… Please… feels so good,” you breathed out as you instinctively tried to push his head closer again. You needed more. He couldn’t just tease you like that.

He really didn’t need anymore encouragement, and he wasn’t going to make you beg for something he’d been daydreaming about since he’d seen you again, when he’d broken out of Hydra’s control. When he’d seen you again, and even after he’d found out that you were his best friend’s girlfriend.

You had no hope of hanging on the second his tongue found your clit. For a moment, you felt like you’d blacked out as your orgasm washed over you, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you. “JAMIE!” You shouted as black dots appeared in your vision. Chest heaving, you tried to catch your breath as you laid back on the rug.

“How you doing, baby?” Bucky asked huskily as he kissed your hip, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “You still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m with you,” you breathed out as you reached for his face, pulling him close to kiss you. “You with me?”

“Yeah,” he said as he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m with you.” He smoothed down your hair, pecking your lips. “You wanna keep going? It’s up to you,” he said, voice low and soothing. “This is all about you, malen’kaya.”

Running your fingers through his hair, you kissed him fiercely. “I wanna keep going. I want you. I need you.” You didn’t hesitate as you pulled his shirt off of him, drinking in the sight of his broad chest. “Beautiful,” you said as you ran your hands over his hot skin. Your fingertips traced over the scars on his left shoulder, and you could feel the shaky breath he took. “You are, James. You’re so fucking handsome…”

The blush that dusted across his cheeks complimented that bashful smile he wore. “Now you’re just flattering me, sweetheart,” he said, kissing you as he worked off his pants with one hand.

“Commando? Really?” You drawled as you glanced down between you. However, you were mostly just trying to not let yourself panic a little at his sheer size.

Steve had been long, yes, but Bucky was thick.

What was it Peter liked to say? Thick with two c’s?

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asked quietly, pulling you out of your head. “We don’t have to.” His fingers blazed a trail along your hip, dipping into the apex of your thighs. As he waited for your answer, he slipped two fingers into your wet t, heat, slowly pumping them in and out and scissoring them to open you up, preparing you for his length. “You gotta talk to me, pretty baby…”

“Yes, I wanna do this,” you insisted, mouth falling open as he found that soft, spongy spot inside of you. “Fuck… Jamie, please… Don’t wanna wait any longer.”

Thankfully, he relented and withdrew his fingers, leaving you with an empty feeling. He lined himself up as he gave his hard cock a few strokes.

The air left your lungs as he slowly pressed against your entrance, before he finally pushed in.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight, angel,” he whispered, the strands of his hair tickling your face as his head hung low. “Is it romantic of me to say that I might cum just from this?”

Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you nodded, raising your legs to wrap around his waist. “The most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” you teased. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did. I know how good my pussy is.”

Bucky had tears in his eyes from how hard he was laughing, nuzzling his nose against yours. All of the anxiety you had noticed before had dissipated, leaving behind the man you knew and loved.

The fire crackled beside you, and you reached up to caress his face. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you said. You’d told him before, but you felt the need to remind him.

“And you’re mine,” he answered as he pushed in further, moaning lowly. He was really struggling with the whole not cumming too early thing apparently. “I haven’t had sex with anyone in over seventy years, let alone a dame as stunning as you,” he said, stuttering over his words. “Fuck… Really not trying to embarrass myself, come on, Barnes.”

He hadn’t even noticed that you were losing yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, the delicious ache the stretch of his cock brought.

“Jamie, please.”

It must’ve been the whine in your voice or something, but his eyes locked in on yours. “Fuck. I gotcha, baby girl.” Focusing hard enough to cause a vein in his forehead to pop, he bottomed out inside of you, taking a moment to compose himself before he started to move. “My sweet malen’kaya,” he said against your lips. His fingers threaded into your hair as he leaned on his elbows for support. The roll of his hips was unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned, head falling back to expose the smooth, unmarked column of your throat.

Well, it wouldn’t be unmarked for long.

You squealed as his lips found your neck, sucking and biting. It might’ve been a little juvenile, but the thought of him being so desperate to mark you up, to show the world that you were his, got you even more hot and bothered than before.

“Feel good, baby? You like that?” He asked in a growl as he jerkily moved one of his hands down your body to rub your clit, awkwardly having to take a moment to regain his balance on one elbow. “You feel like heaven. My own little corner of paradise…”

The rainstorm raged around you, but you didn’t notice or feel the thunder that shook the earth. The only thing you could focus on was Bucky.

You would’ve liked to think that you would’ve been a lot more eloquent, perhaps sexier and kinkier, if and when you two finally slept together, but every thought had left your brain. It was like he’d fucked you stupid.

It didn’t take long before you felt the familiar tightening in your belly, your nails digging into his back muscles. “Oh, god. Yes, yes, keep going,” you begged, finally finding your voice. “Yes, holy shit, yes. Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna… Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum for me? Huh?” He rasped, brow furrowed. “Go on… Cum for me. On one… two… three.”

Your back arched sharply off of the bed, and he wrapped an arm around you to hold you to him as he continued thrusting. Your climax came on like a tsunami, and if you weren’t so dazed from the orgasm, you might’ve been stupid enough to been embarrassed by the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your core.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he said, biting at your neck as his thrusts became sloppier and harder. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit, malen’kaya.”

“Inside me,” you said, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Please… Need you to fill me up, Jamie. Please.”

At that exact moment, you watched a moment of panic come over him before he suddenly slammed his hips against yours before going incredibly still.

Your heart caught in your throat as you felt him cumming, spilling inside of you and filling you to the brim.

“Darlin,’ you can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to lose it right then and there,” he rasped, feeling like he was walking on air.

The tight grip your legs had around his waist stopped him from pulling out.

Not that he was complaining.

“Mmm… I need to lay down for a minute… let some blood get to my brain,” he said, lying completely on top of you and hiding his face in your neck.

“Mmm…. I think we should just stay like this forever,” you said as you closed your eyes, letting him take his comfort from you. You craved it. Loved it. Your lungs felt heavy as you (somehow) snuggled even closer to him.

“Me, too,” he said as the two of you started to doze off, utterly exhausted. “Me, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Back at it again with mysterious anon,

Could I request some Niki angst? You've done one where the reader cheats on James to be with Niki so maybe reader cheats on Niki with James 👀

Muted [Niki Lauda x Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: angst

A/N: This one makes no sense, I just wanted to break my own heart. Little narration, a lot of feelings.

Niki wished to be able to tear his ears off when he heard James sweet talk to you after a pre-season testing. He whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how he would sweep you off your feet, bring you away to his house in England.

Then things got heated, he started mentioning how he wished to do you this and that. He didn't need to be specific with his words, Niki could easily understand the situation by how y didn't even flinch or tried to deny yourself.

He knew you, he knew you too well.

With him you have always been protective, jealous, proud of your relationship and there was only one way he could imagine you giving in.

You already gave up. He already lost you before that very moment, you slipped through his fingers like water through wood, following every curve and every wrinkle, weakening it from the outside until you got to the inside, opening it up, exposing it.

His jaw clenched, he pulled his cap over his eyes as he marched away.

There was no time to regret, no time to think twice, he had only one thing to do.

Throw the soaked wood away.

You were speechless the moment you came home to find your stuff already dislocated outside the door, your keys completely useless in the brand new locker.

Very Niki: efficient, resolute and without looking back.

You knocked at the door, you waited but there was no answer.

Your eyes darted down onto the simple and effective doormat you brought, or was it already there when you moved in? As you wondered why it had to end like this, you didn't even act surprised, you knew perfectly what you did and you took full responsibility over your actions.

You were no saint in this situation and maybe it was bold of you to just expect confrontation from Niki.

You considered to just leave, even if pained you to go like that, but you were temporary bruiselessp, you knew actions weren’t the most painful weapon in Niki’s arsenal, it was his cut throat way of speaking and in particular when it came to you.

Before you could have the time to realise that it wasn’t a punishment but a chance the door opened. Wild curls and beaming eyes, simple home clothing and steady hands.

He was everything you ever wanted and all you could never achieve.

“Niki” you murmured as you looked at him “Listen”

He looked at you eyebrows up “Oh, no I think I heard enough today between you and Hunt”

“No, no, now you’ll listen”

You paced inside the house quickly to stand in front of him, a visible frown over

your features.

Don’t do it, you ket telling yourself, just leave, just go, don’t confront him, you can’t win.

He was right, you cheated but it was’t pure lust, it wasn’t like you enjoyed to hurt him and hadn’t felt a single beat of guilt, you just wanted him to know that.

“Tell me the truth, were you even serious with me?”

You asked him and the question made him cringe.

“Like what? The doubt made you wish to make sure you will always have a bed to sleep into? We lived together, sounds pretty serious to me, evident if you apply a bit of brain power in it”

You frowned as he was hurt and he was attacking you but he saw you wanted to talk and he smirked shaking his head “What are you doing? Finding a way to put the blame on me?”

“I just want to talk Niki” you groaned but he rolled his eyes

“No, you just want to tell me why you did it”

He was stone cold, maybe you hoped he’d react somehow, maybe a bit, maybe just a bit. And now he was just humiliating you even more. No matter the pain of being cheated on, he wouldn’t let you win that either.

In that moment you realised that your gut feeling was right, you should have just disappeared.

“Go on, how bad can I have been to make you decide it was better to fuck James Hunt?”

“You never cared about me”

It was dry as an answer, you hated yourself forn ot being able to express all you went through now that it was the time, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief and a bit of

sassiness. He was mocking you.

“Didn’t I?”

“No, not when you’re constantly dismissing me, telling me anything I say it is stupid or judging anything I do from your superior being. Anything I did was poorly done, or not the right moment or just not enough for you”

“You’re not stupid, but clearly you need to see everything through your heart shaped eyeglasses, right? You need confirms and words and speeches and big excitement. Well, go play the princess somewhere else, what I offered you will be the only true relationship you’ll ever have, and you know it. I never lied to you, I never cheated on you, I tried to better somebody that liked to stay as she is, that’s my only fault”

“I didn’t want to be somebody else, I just wanted you to care about something, anything that was not your job”

“So fucking around was a better choice to keep your ego up”

“No, but at least somebody would gave a fuck about me”

You snapped back immediately to him, you couldn’t remember the last time

you and Niki had sex, maybe a little shag in the middle of the night but it

felt more like trying to get rid of the tension to fall asleep.

He rolled his eyes like little he cared, his hands opening like you just stated what you had to do:get the fuck out.

That always hurt you: the fact that whenever he seemed driven to you, he would pull you into amazing kisses and heated love sessions but always at his time, his desires. If you ever leaned to kiss his neck or reach for him when he was busy or doing something more important, which was most of the times, he would shrug you off, literally closing the space between his neck and shoulder, stretching his back to get you away.

Not now.

Stop it.

Don't be like this.

You really aren’t good at picking timings, are you?

Those words hunted you day by day, you felt like he didn't need you, like anything you did was wrong, flawed, helplessly meant to annoy him one way or another.

You always seemed to organise dates in the wrong days, to wish to stay lazy at home on the wrong day, to pick the wrong moment, the wrong occasion, the wrong words, the wrong topic.

There were times you even woke up with him, you would sit at the breakfast table with him, not knowing if to engage a conversation or just trying to show him your support. You just wanted to see him even if you didn’t know if he would stay outside for the night or leave for some business meeting or whatnot.

But it was never worth it, it was never enough.

Every time you engaged him for confirms or any kind of formal commitment you always were out of place, out of time.

Your touches denied, no sweet words for your ears. You felt like a shadow beside him, you weren't there for the good and neither fo the bad. You weren't into his thoughts and not even into his hopes.

You grew detached from him, angry, you wished to hurt him even though every time you found yourself staring in his eyes you felt bubbles in your stomach and an happy feeling. A voice in your chest telling you how much you cared, how dear he was to you.

And yet , no fondness was reserved to you, no tender touches or gentle words.

It was just the bare minimum of a relationship.

So it felt natural, terribly natural that when somebody, it was James but you know anyone could have worked it out, gave you the backhand of attention you felt loved and blessed. Did your heart flutter when you saw him? Probably not, but he held your hand, he wanted to spend time with you, he stayed in bed after sex with you, he held you and not just dealt with you. You didn’t feel dumb every second of your day with him.

Because that's how Niki made you feel.

Like you were a burden and you'd gladly relieve him now from that, even if you never wished for it to happen this way.

Not reducing it all to the unstoppable drive of sex, your pain was discarded, once more.

You probably deserved it, you got it in the moment you admitted your weakness to him, the moment you slipped into some other man’s bed instead of facing him.

Or maybe, admit it, maybe you just hoped that he would lose control.

Just once, just one time he would have to put the rest aside and focus only on you.

"Now that you wasted some more of my time" he held the door open and waited.

You felt anger and sadness mixed up, the realisation that even now you couldn't win against him.

You'd never get your point across, you will just be the cheater and he would be right.

The loud slam followed your exit as your eyes dropped onto the couple of luggages belonging to you, all your stuff. You never realised it was so little.

You didn't feel like seeing James, let out friends and family that will give you random hypocritical phrases to cheer you up.

Maybe you'll go to an hotel, maybe you'll just leave.

You wished to change your name, change yourself.

The instinctive thought that crossed your mind made you gag, because for a moment, just a random malicious moment, you imagined how beautiful it could be to start from the beginning with Niki.

And maybe you won't do the same mistakes, maybe you'd be better.

James told you many times that you didn't have a reason to feel less than Niki, but the truth was that after hearing to be wrong, do wrong and act wrong, you begun to believe it.

And as you dragged your stuff t the car and drove off you begun wondering what life could be without Niki and while watching you and your little suitcases he wondered why you have such a small amount of things. He wondered if you have always looked so frail, he wondered if there will ever be an after you.

Or maybe, all hope was leaving with you, you were his Pandora’s box, a box full of all the feelings he prohibited himself to distract him and the hope was leaving with you, hidden tightly in the perfect cage of your chest.

Far from him, safer.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#niki lauda x you #Niki Lauda angst #niki lauda imagine #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda fic #niki lauda rush 2013 #daniel bruehl #Daniel bruhl #tw: angst

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

Heartsick (A James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again

Tags: Fluff, Sickfic, Cuddling, Marriage Proposal

Rating: 16+

Warnings: Language, Potentially Triggering Mentions of the Reader Being Ill for a Long Time/Almost Dying of an Unnamed Illness, Planning Your Own Death

Word Count: 3700~

This was crossposted to my AO3 under the same title!

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James Patrick March considered himself a fairly patient man. He had to be, in his line of work. Some things didn’t deserve his patience, like lazy workers or angry hotel guests, but when it came to things that did matter, he was willing to go to extremes. Murder, for example, deserved his patience. Once upon a time, the Countess did too. Yes, patience was a rare virtue Mr. March had possessed all his life.

When it came to you, though, he found his patience running short.

You had been a revelation all your own when you first walked through the doors of the Hotel Cortez with not even a suitcase to your name, radiating purity with every shallow breath. James had been excited to find you in some dark corner of the hotel and rip the life from your body. That is until you found his little nook at the Blue Parrot Lounge and seduced him with your charming personality and sweet smile. From that moment on the Countess didn’t matter anymore. The whole world was just him, you, and all of the deliciously naughty ways he wanted to debauch you.

James had insisted on moving you into your own suite on the seventh floor that very night, just a few short hallways away from his own, and given every luxury he could offer. He was nothing if not a gentleman. It just wouldn’t be right to move the one he intended to court directly into his bedroom, especially while he was still married to his previous wide. Despite the distance, things between the two of you went swimmingly. Even the murder, which James initially worried could drive you apart, was now a delightful shared activity when you chose to grace him with your presence during a kill.

That’s where the problems started.

Mr. March was a man stuck in his own time. That’s why, after 5 splendid years with you at his side, you still weren’t moved into room 78. This also meant your suite was a place he wouldn’t enter unless he was invited. Sure, you had a healthy sex life, but the Countess still had the March family engagement ring tucked away somewhere. He wouldn’t move you into his quarters or impose himself on yours until the two of you were at the very least engaged. The plans for his and the Countess’ divorce were moving, albeit slowly, when you stopped opening the door for James.

The first day he thought perhaps you were simply elsewhere, but after a week of nothing, he began to get angry. It was one thing to deny him your company, but to ignore him while he made a fool of himself banging on your door? That was a punishable offense in the March family playbook. So, he decided if you wanted to play hard to get, he would too. In his mind, James could practically envision you rushing back into his arms once you got over whatever was souring your mood. It wouldn’t be long until the whole nasty affair was behind the both of you once and for all, right?

Wrong.

A month since he last dined with you, James sat at his table in the Blue Parrot lounge alone nursing the remains of his 4th glass of scotch.

Liz was slow to walk out from her place behind the bar. “You want another?” she asked, holding out a crystal decanter, “or should I fish out the absinthe fountain a little early this year,”

“No, no I do believe I’ve had quite enough. Besides, it’s not as if I can actually get drunk anymore,” he huffed. Whether it was the drinks or his growing rage, Mr. March found his collar feeling a bit tighter. He reached up to pull at his cravat but paused when thinking about the ghastly wound it hid. In the end, he let his hand return to its place on his glass.

“Suit yourself,” Liz quickly returned the decanter to its place and began polishing glasses.

Somewhere in the distance, Iris picked up a phone and began to take an order for room service. James had an epiphany.

“Liz!” he shouted, getting her attention, “has Y/N been ordering much room service lately?”

Liz shrugged. “Only once a day for the past month. Why do you ask?”

“I find myself in a bit of a predicament. You see, Y/N began ignoring me about a month ago. I’ve been giving her a taste of her own medicine for quite some time now, and yet she has made no attempts to seek me out. Do you think, perhaps, there could be something wrong?”

The energy in the room began to still.

“Wait, Y/N hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

The dirty glasses were abandoned as Liz let out a humorless laugh.

“Damn you, woman!” James rose with a shout, slamming his glass down on the table, “what is she hiding!?”

“She’s sick,”

James’ heart would have stopped if it were still beating. He sat down again, bewildered. “What?”

“She’s sick. Fever, puking, tremors; the whole shebang,” As she spoke, Liz came back to the table and sat down on the plush booth across from him.

“But it’s been a month! Influenza shouldn’t last that long…”

“Well, it’s definitely not the flu, I can tell you that. Last time I brought down her dinner she nearly choked on her toast. She was so weak that I had to sit there feeding her soup because she couldn’t lift up the spoon long enough to feed herself,”

It was as if James’ whole world had come collapsing down on him all at once. Mortified, he let his head drop into his hands. “Why didn’t she inform me? Am I that pathetic a lover that she would rather suffer in silence than tell me she was ill?”

“Well, to her credit, you don’t exactly look like the most comforting type. When did she move in again?”

“Almost five years ago, it’ll be the anniversary of her first entering the Cortez on the 20th,”

“And how many times in the past five years have you, I don’t know, cuddled with Y/N,”

“You insolent-”

Liz lifted her arms, offering up a white flag. “I’m just asking a question,”

James opened his mouth to offer up a rebuttal but found he had no way to defend himself.

It was true that his relationship with Y/N tended to fluctuate between chaste and lecherous at the drop of a hat. Once they had made love, it was the only habit for him to leave her in bed and return to whatever was keeping him busy at the moment. Post-coital intimacy was simply something he had never experienced or needed. Unfortunately, seeing that the only time he spent with Y/N outside of their trysts were formal meetings or dinners, there had been no time for gentility or softness between just the two of them. If ghosts could blanch, he would have.

Noticing his sudden shift in mood, Liz rose, backing off. “Now, usually I like to stay out of your business, but because your little relationship makes Y/N happy I’ll give you some advice. Go down to the kitchen, have Ms. Evers heat some broth, and give Y/N her dinner personally, maybe even give her some extra attention as a little treat. That should fix the bulk of your issues. Got it?”

He was never one to take orders, but surprisingly James nodded. He stood quickly, smoothing his suit. “Thank you for your advice, Ms. Taylor, but I must depart. My paramour needs me,”

She nodded. “Any time,” James began to hurry down the stairs, but suddenly Liz shouted. “Wait a second,”

James paused. “Yes?”

“Only the living get sick, Mr. March. Maybe, after five years, it’s time for Y/N to extend her stay at the Cortez... permanently. Just something to think about,”

He gave her a sharp nod before disappearing down the stairs to the kitchen. 15 minutes later he was waiting outside your door with a rolling cart in hard. He had already been stalling there for 5 minutes when he finally, with a deep, steadying breath, unlocked the door.

The room was dark and silent, almost like a tomb.

Your voice rang out like a bell as James pushed the cart forward. “Iris?” you called weakly, “is that you?”

“No, darling,” he responded, closing the door behind him. Slowly, he bent down at turned on a small lamp. “You won’t need Iris to bring you your dinner any longer,”

“James,” You whispered, half reverent and half shocked.

He was far too taken aback by the severity of your condition to form an immediate response.

You were curled up in bed, folded in on yourself as you wheezed for breath. As Liz had mentioned your body was weak and wracked with near-constant tremors while you tried your best to prop yourself up on the headboard. James had to abandon the cart with your dinner on it in favor of rushing over and helping you sit up. As he took in your gaunt face, his heart broke.

Your soft voice snapped him from his thoughts.

“Am I dead?”

James shook his head. “No my love, not yet,”

Tears began to spill from your eyes. “I thought you’d left me, James. I thought I was going to have to rot in this awful, dark room for eternity, that maybe ‘cause I died while I was sick my ghost was too damn weak to get up,” As you spoke, you tried to grip the back of his suit, but found you were far too weak to actually hold the fabric. Your inability to even do the simplest of tasks only made you cry harder.

Mr. March was quick to pull out his handkerchief and wipe your eyes. “Oh, my dearest, that couldn’t be farther from the truth, but none of that matters now. I cannot apologize enough for my abhorrent behavior as of late,”

“Will you stay?” your words were laced with desperation, “just for a little bit?”

“Of course, my dearest. I think you’ll find it very difficult to get rid of me from now on. Besides, I couldn’t leave my beloved paramour without doing what it is that I set out to do,”

“Which is?”

James stood and quickly returned with the room service cart. As he removed the silver tray-topper, you found he had brought you a bowl of soup, a small plate of crackers, and a tall glass of ice water.

“I intend to make sure you are well-fed and taken care of,”

“James, you don’t-” you tried to argue, but he cut you off.

“Nonsense! There is, unfortunately, no way to sugar coat this, but I will try my best,” he whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you, “I have neglected you, darling, not just for the past month when I found my pride and ego keeping me away from you, but also for the past five years. I ignored your needs out of a false sense of propriety by bending to rules that are long dead and considered inconsequential. For that, I fear I may never forgive myself. Things will be different from now on, though. I hope to win back your heart properly now that I have realized the severity of my mistakes. Would you…” he paused, gulping, “would you be willing to humor me?”

You offered him a soft smile. “Oh, my beloved Mr. March, there’s no need. My heart has always been yours,”

Your words soothed him, and he offered you one of his debonair grins, the kind where his little mustache scrunched before his lips parted that never failed to sweep you off your feet.

“Now where were we!” he exclaimed.

“Dinner,” you responded.

“Ah, yes! Soup!” He was quick to get a spoonful of the warm broth and bring it to your lips. “You needn’t worry, my sweetling, I watched Ms. Evers prepare this herself. Nothing but the best for you,”

It was easy to accept the spoon into your mouth. Something inside of you knew that James would be taking care of you from now on.

The rest of dinner passed in relative silence, but you didn’t mind, far too tired to take part in any meaningful conversation. Instead, you simply enjoyed the attention. James had never been shy about his affection, but that affection always tended to come in the form of gifts or sex instead of close, intimate touch. It hadn’t bothered you enough to tell him. You always just assumed he didn’t enjoy that kind of love. Now that you’d had a taste, though, of his gentle yet constant affection, you knew you could never get enough.

Too soon the bowl was empty.

James stood, returning to the door with the cart as you relaxed and rolled onto your side. “When will you be back?”

He chuckled, opening the door. “Did you think you could be rid of me so soon, darling?” The cart was quickly pushed out into the hallway as James turned back towards you.

Your face flushed. “I just assumed…”

“Assumptions, assumptions,” he tutted, “It hurts that you have such little faith in me, but I admit I haven’t given you much reason to. As I said, things will be different now,” James perched himself on the edge of the bed with a smile as he untied his shoes and slipped them off.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes, darling, so I can join you in bed,”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had been imagining the first time James would actually stay in your bed to cuddle since the beginning of your relationship, but it had been years since you had given any thought to that silly fantasy. Could it really be happening?

Apparently, your surprise was evident on your face because Mr. March paused once both his shoes were settled neatly on the floor. “Is something wrong, my dearest?”

“Nothing, darling, nothing at all,” you were quick to explain, “we’ve just never done this before,”

James smirked like a predator who had just found his prey. “Such an innocent gesture from such a naughty little minx. I don’t recall you being so… flustered the night we met when I took you up to my suite and-”

“James!”

“Alright! Alright, my love, no more vulgarity from me until you’re fully healed and back on your feet. Well, hypothetically on your feet,” he emphasized his words with a dirty wink. Then he crawled into bed beside you as if he belonged there, scootching over until he was resting pressed against your side. You slotted into place, with your face resting in his neck and your leg thrown haphazardly across his hips as if you were made to fit his body. Holding James was like coming home.

You let out a soft, pleased sound at just how good it felt to be held.

James took this as positive feedback. As he settled in, he began running his fingers through your bedhead, combing through the loosest of the knots. Sensing something strange, he paused to put his hand on your forehead. It was uncomfortably hot. “You’re still feverish. Do you need anything? A cold compress? A wet washcloth? Some water?”

It was funny to hear him fussing over you, but it also warmed the deepest parts of your heart.

You made a negative huff against his neck. “No! You’d better not move. Your skin feels too good. It’s nice… cold. The only thing I could possibly want right now is for you to dim the lights and take your damn shirt off so you can cool more of me off,”

“I would, darling, believe me, but there’s just the small issue of the wound on my neck,”

“James,” you glared up at him, “I have literally ripped a dying man’s dick off in front of you. We have dinner with Jeffery Dahmer on your birthday every year, where I have to eat my salad as he zombifies whatever poor sap wandered into Sally’s clutches across the table. Hell, just a few months ago we fucked in that bathtub filled with some businessman’s blood. Your neck is just another part of you, James, it doesn’t bother me. Shirt. Off.”

“Have I ever told you that I adore when you take charge?”

You grinned as he undid his cravat and the top few buttons of his dress shirt. “Once or twice,” The thrill only lasted a moment, though, because before he finished unbuttoning his shirt he pulled away from your arms and got off the bed. A high-pitched whine escaped from your lips. “I thought you said you were staying?”

“I may be a ghost, dear heart, but my clothes can’t just disappear,” Always one for the dramatics, he shed his shirt and suit jacket to the floor with gusto. The sight of his bare torso made your heart beat faster. You had to remind yourself that you were sick and it would probably kill you to go for even a gentle round with Mr. March. Ah, but what a way to die…

James dimmed the lamp before returning, undoing his pants, and stripping down to his boxers. “Is this better for you darling?”

You nodded and reached your trembling arms out to your lover. “Much. Now come back to bed. You have five years’ worth of cuddling to make up for Mr. March, and I don’t intend on letting you wheedle your way out of even a second of it,”

He gave you a gentle smile as he found his way beneath the covers again. “I wouldn’t dream of it,”

Your face quickly found its way back into the crook of James’ neck. It was inhumanly cool, easing the constant burn of your fever and soothing your sore skin. The slit across his throat truly didn’t bother you. As you said, it was just another part of him for you to love, nothing more than a cosmetic imperfection.

Nuzzling closer, you took a deep inhale of his intoxicating scent. Perhaps it was the cologne he wore at the time of his death or even just what he naturally smelled like, but his pulse point radiated notes of sage and bergamot. God, how you loved him.

The pair of you were quiet for a moment with only the sound of your ragged breathing breaking through the air, but something urged you to speak your mind.

“You know, James, when you walked into my room tonight I assumed you were here to kill me,”

He chuckled. “I can’t say I didn’t think about it, my pearl,”

“Of course you did…” you went silent for a moment, “I wouldn’t have minded. This sickness is hell. I’m wasting away by the day and the pain never stops. I don’t mind dying, not when it means I get to spend the rest of time here in the hotel with you, but I don’t want to go out like somebody normal. My death needs to be special… I want to be the crowning glory of your murders, the most fantastic piece of art you’ve ever created,”

Pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your hair, James sighed. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but the moment I thought of you, wasting away in the darkness and succumbing to some common germ, I knew I couldn’t kill you. Not yet. I refuse to have my bride accompany me through eternity bearing a constant reminder of my failure,”

Your breath hitched. “Bride?”

Slowly, his hand made its way to your throat. There was no threat in it, he wasn’t using even an ounce of pressure. It was more of a gentle reminder of his presence; a physical conduit of his passion.

“Yes, bride. I don’t mind if you can only become Mrs. March posthumously, though I would prefer to wed you alive and enjoy your last moments of warmth in the throes of carnal delight on our wedding bed, it all depends on where your illness takes you next. Until then I will be glued to your side. No more harm will come to you. I shall nurse you back to health with my own hand so that you glow with life long after your death. Yes, Y/N, your death will come, but not until I have done my best to atone for my mistakes in your life,”

“Was that a proposal?” You gazed up at James with wide, misty eyes.

He huffed out a laugh. “I suppose it was, and a poor one at that! To think I stalled for years in the hopes of finding the perfect moment to present you with my mother’s ring only to pop the question in bed with no ring in sight. I do hope you’ll say yes. I’d be rather crushed if you rejected me after all this time,”

You nodded, small tears escaping as you pressed your face into his soft skin. “Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot. I would’ve married you if you were the poorest man in the world and proposed with a ring-pop,”

“Then it’s settled. You shall be my wife as soon as you are well enough for me to fuck you again! I quite hate that Will Drake, but I believe he’s our best, quickest option if we wish to get you a dress commissioned. I have a few ideas drawn up already waiting in my office… perhaps I should call Ms. Evers and have her take them to him,”

“Shhhh,” you smiled into his neck, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, “we can figure out the details later. For right now, though, your fiancée is sick and she needs some TLC. What are you gonna do about it, Mr. March,”

He growled. “Well, I suppose ravishing you is off the table. Hmmm... what to do to my darling girl to make her feel better?” With a gentle nudge, he tilted your head up and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“That’s a start,”

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a/n: I hope you liked it! I’m really leaning towards writing a second part of this where the reader actually dies, so let me know if you’re interested. Also, my requests are open if you want to see any of Evan’s other characters!

Please don’t post my work to other sites, thank you <3

#ahs #ahs hotel #james march x reader #james patrick march #james march #james patrick march x reader #I wrote this instead of something incredibly filthy and terrible I have planned for later...#evan peters #evan peters x reader #american horror story #american horror story hotel #I love this man

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Wildflower - Chapter 1

one more chapter, i'm excited about this story, i hope you like it as much as i do <3

Thank you @startanewdream who read and opined on some things <3

AO3 | FF. NET | PLAYLIST

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| L. E |

The room was quiet, everyone paying attention to what the Professor was saying and presenting on the slides, with all those graphs and statistics that made Lily almost sleep with her eyes open. She loved her course, but calculus class wasn't her favorite, it wasn't even in her top three preferences.

Lily would rather have a full day of Environmental Chemistry with Professor Hagrid than one more with Burbage.

"Aren't you going to write down what she's saying?" Severus muttered beside her, making her nearly jump in her chair in fright, her heart racing at being pulled out of the quiet of her mind. "Hey, calm down."

"I already wrote down the important one." Lily shrugged, seeing her representation of the chart in the notebook and her lazy scribble of what the Professor had said.

"I won't lend you my notebook to study," he whispered, a smirk on his lips. Lily rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand again, no longer listening to Burbage's voice.

Was it so early, why did she like to make students suffer like that?

"I don't need to, thanks." Severus didn't respond, but he kissed her on the cheek and then turned his attention back to class, much more interested than she was.

She still hadn't forgotten about their fight after the party Saturday, and all the embarrassment he put her through, and Lily was still hurting, even though she didn't understand why it hurt so much. He explained to her that he was trying to protect her, and the next day, he took her for brunch at her favorite restaurant, which was near a flower shop where Severus bought her flowers. Her favorites.

He was sorry, and Lily had to stop mulling things over even days after they had happened.

"Excuse me, Professor?" A female voice woke her, looking toward the door where one of the cheerleaders was standing.

The girl was beautiful, Lily had seen her before in the presentations in between games - the few she went to - and in the hallways of college; she had long brown hair and eyes almost the same color, and Lily knew the line of boys wanting her wasn't short.

“Say it, Miss Fortescue,” Burbage said, not looking overly excited at being interrupted. ‘I have no time to waste.’

“It'll be quick, I swear.” The girl walked into the room, wearing her red college sweatshirt and simple jeans, and even so, she looked stunning. Lily was a little jealous of her.

‘Me, and the Hogwarts Cheerleaders team, are passing by to remind you that applications to join the Team begin today. You need to have a minimal knowledge of ice skating, and be able to train three times a week, and twice a month on Saturdays. In addition to keeping in mind that if chosen, you will have to travel with us when necessary, and participate in our activities off the field.'’ She smiled, looking at everyone there waiting for questions or any interruptions, but when no one raised a hand, she continued;

‘’To apply you just need to talk to me, or any other cheerleader, and fill in the form. The tests will start next week, so you have plenty of time to think about whether you want to or not.” She waited a few more seconds, then smiled at the woman. "Thank you so much, Professor, excuse me." And she left.

Side conversations began, even though Burbage was trying to restrain the students, but Lily didn't care too much, wondering whether or not she should take the test. Of course she didn't have a body like the other girls, their waists looked almost unreal, but she could try, right? It looked so much fun the few times she watched it, and Lily had been balletting as a child until her mid-teens, when she started to put on weight and Petunia kept saying she was getting too fat to dance.

She could at least try. Maybe she couldn't get in, there were probably girls who had trained her entire life for it, Lily knew it was a competitive sport that many took very seriously, but… She could try.

Lily skated really well too, another reason she should try, and-

"You'd think she'd at least be embarrassed to appear in public, but no," Severus whispered, making Lily look at him not quite understanding what he was talking about, having once again become lost in her thoughts. "God, Lily, pay attention!"

‘‘Sorry, I was thinking. Who has to have courage?’’

‘‘Alice. That captain of the cheerleaders. She was seen having sex in the car with one of the players late last year… Such a bitch.” Severus rolled his eyes, looking almost offended by what she had done. ‘‘But what to expect, all are.’’

"I wanted to take the test," Lily whispered, feeling a weight drop in her stomach that made all her courage drain away.

'’Why? Do you want to wear those short skirts and show your ass for a bunch of men to see? And still call it dancing? Christ, Lily, have a little respect for yourself.” He turned forward, not seeming to want to hear her answer, but Lily ignored the movement and continued;

‘But… it looks so cool, and maybe I don't even come in and-’

‘Lils, I'm a man, listen to what I tell you, these girls don't dance because they like it, they dance because they want to have a dick to suck at the end of the day and get something in return; sometimes a higher note, or sometimes just the gratification of having sucked that dick. You're not like them, you don't need that.”

| J . P |

"Look who's here, our Geppetto!" Remus said, a wide grin on his face and the glass of orange juice raised to James, who was now bitterly regretting not having changed after his carpentry practice class.

"Dude, shut up." James chuckled, not even wanting to argue about how old this joke was getting and that they should try harder. "I can't believe we're not joking about the fact that Sirius needs to wear a wig in his class."

"We did, but you were late, mate." Remus seemed indifferent to James' attempt to shift his attention to Sirius, drinking all of his juice before looking at him more closely. "Marlene put makeup on you?"

"Yeah, is there a problem?" He put his hand to his jaw, no longer as purple and sore as it had been on Saturday, but still too disgusting an orange color to show everyone on the first day of his sophomore year. James had a bit of self-esteem even though it kept him from doing that. "It was horrible."

"Yeah, it's not pretty now." Peter pulled James' face to the side, wanting to see more detail, and that made the pain in the back of his neck return. "But it's better than before."

"Peter, my head." James pushed him away, touching where the back of his neck ached and trying to ease some of the pain that was still bothering him. The doctor had said it would hurt for a few more days, but James couldn't take the headaches anymore. "That asshole was lucky I was drunk."

"I still don't understand why he punched you," Sirius said, the pink wig still in his hands, trying to untangle the strands. "The girl said you didn't even touch her."

‘’I didn't touch it. Man, I don't even remember her face, I was trying to stay upright and not pass out right there, there were like ten redheads in front of me.’' He sighed, taking a sip of his own juice and denying it, still not believing he had stopped at the hospital because someone thought he was harassing the girl. "Was he her boyfriend?"

"I think so, but she didn't look too happy about what he'd done to you, so I don't know if they're still together," Remus said.

"Was she beautiful?" James didn't remember much of that night, least of all the details of her face, the only thing he could remember was that she was wearing an all-black outfit and had red hair. Everything else was just a blur in his mind.

"Yeah," Peter smiled. ‘’Was she wearing weird clothes? Yeah. I mean, who wears sweats to a party? But, she was beautiful. Don't you have a class with her?” He glanced at Remus, who looked like he was in another world as he watched a table next to theirs, full of girls chatting and laughing, one in particular standing with her back to them.

‘’Moony, if you keep drooling on Amelia like that, I'll punch you in the face. She kicked your ass, bro, part to another, forget about her.'’

"James, have you ever been in love yet?" James took a deep breath, thinking they would go back to that same subject Remus always brought up every time someone said something about his ex. '’Answer me.'’

"This wasn't love, Moony, it was a trap." James said the same thing every other time, but it was like he spoke to a wall when it came to Remus. It was frustrating. "She betrayed you."

“It was a slip.” He repeated as usual.

‘’Remus, slip was when I mistook James' aunt for his grandmother, and congratulated her on her 90th birthday. That was a slip. What did she do to you,” Sirius dropped his wig and looked at their friend, a tired smile on his face. It was the tenth time they had had that conversation. ‘It was low. She cheated on you the second you quarreled with her, without a second thought. Besides,” He held up a hand, preventing Remus from saying anything. "She never told you, you only knew because her friend felt sorry for you."

"She was going to tell me!"

"Let's not discuss this again." Peter interrupted the fight that was likely to ensue, but even if he hadn't, someone else did for them.

A girl stopped at their table, arms back and cheeks already on fire, she looked like she wanted to get inside a hole instead of being there.

"Hm. I’m sorry..er..." Her low voice was barely heard in the din in the cafeteria, but James was at the end of the table and could hear her speaking. It was the girl from the party, he recognized her sweet voice, her red hair was in a bun and she was wearing a sweatshirt today too, this time it wasn't black but dark blue, and James thought it didn't look comfortable because it wasn't that cold and that fabric seemed to be very thick and warm. ‘I came to apologize.’

"Sorry?" James looked at her, now everyone at the table was silently paying attention to her, and her cheeks got even hotter, which he thought was cute. Her green eyes fell on James, and he hated even more that he was wearing that ridiculous protective clothes.

"For what Sev did," She bit her bottom lip, filling her lungs with air and smiling gently afterwards. "I'm sorry he punched you."

'But…'

"You're not the one who should apologize," Sirius said, sitting at the other end, looking almost as shocked as James. The guy couldn't be such a coward, what did he think they were going to do, punch him up in the middle of the cafeteria?

The girl looked uncomfortable with this, but stayed there, stuffing her hands inside her sweatshirt pocket. ‘‘I know, but… He wasn't coming, but I'm going to feel really bad for not apologizing, because it was my fault, I- ''

"It wasn't your fault," James cut her off, pausing before placing a hand on her arm to soothe whatever was making her nervous. Who knows what her crazy boyfriend would do if he saw James touching her. "It's okay, really."

"You ended up in the hospital." She reminded him, not that James needed it, but he shrugged.

‘’Nothing too serious. And I was drunk, and…” He didn't know what to say, so opting to just smile at her. '’Everything is fine. If it makes you better, apologies accepted.”

"Sorry again, really," The girl said, her hand over her heart and a slightly sad smile on her face, seeming to notice the makeup on his jaw. James nodded, still not quite sure what to say or what to do, and she left.

'’Oh, I knew I knew her boyfriend.’' The four of them looked at the redhead walking back to her table, where three other guys dressed in black were, none of them looking at James' table but the boy next to her didn't look the least bit happy with her attitude, putting an arm around her shoulders in an almost possessive way. "She dates that idiot who tried to fight with Frank."

"Does he fight everyone then?" James continued to stare at her table, a bad feeling burning in his chest. He remembered that she looked so happy when he came to ask about his glasses, but then, now it seemed like there was none of that inside her anymore.

"He doesn't fight, he talks and talks, but when the time comes he runs away." Remus smiled humorlessly, pulling James back to look at him. "Don't want the three of them to come at you, just because one of them is a coward doesn't mean the others are too."

"She looked sad." Peter rambled. "Didn't she look like?"

“Dating a guy like that, who's happy?” James ran a hand through his hair, looking once more at the table the redhead had gone to before giving up and settling down on the bench, putting her image out of his mind and refocusing on Remus, who had turned to face Amelia again.

| L. E |

Lily was nervous, as if she was about to commit a horrible crime, her stomach churning and bile burning in her throat every time she focused her vision on that paper.

It was a mistake, a huge mistake, she shouldn't be there, she didn't even know how she got there. Get out of there Lily! She screamed to herself.

“Need help?” A voice startled her, her heart nearly leapt out of her body, and she ended up dropping the form to the floor, her shaking hands not even good enough to hold the paper. ‘Hey, I’m sorry. Everything is fine?'

"Yes, yes." Lily didn't look at the girl, but she knew who she was; Alice. Severus' voice reverberated in her mind, and she remembered Mulciber - Sev's best friend, who, like Avery, lived with them - saying; "You don't want everyone to think you're a bitch too, do you?" when Lily spoke of her willingness to take the test.

She thought they were wrong, she knew they were wrong, but her mind seemed unable to say anything against it at the time, her body paralyzed, just nodding and going back to eating, even though her hunger was gone.

'’Are you going to sign up?'’ Alice didn't seem to notice that Lily was uncomfortable however, because she went behind the now empty cafeteria table and sat on the bench there, looking at Lily in such a welcoming way that she felt guilty for not looking her in the eye. '’It's fun. We train a lot, but we are a family too, and as some girls are already graduating and leaving, we need new members.’’

"Family?" Lily looked at her, confused, blaming her mind that it was having to deal with the guilt of thinking she was a bitch, and the boys' voices telling her about her having sex in the car.

She's free to do whatever she wants, Lily thought, taking a deep breath.

‘’Yes, we take care of each other and make sure no one feels left out. If you need a house, we have room for you. It's just girls, no boys in there.” Alice took a folder from her purse, it was full of other completed forms, but at the bottom, there was a blank paper. She reached for Lily. "If you want it." She shrugged, and Lily saw it was another form, but this time, to rent a room.

"Oh I don't have to, I live with my boyfriend." Lily felt her cheeks flush, her eyes automatically returning to the team's blank form. Did she want this?

"But if you ever need to, we're always getting a spare room, just in case." Alice smiled. ‘’So having problems with the questions? I know there are many, but we need to know a lot before we call someone in. We've had bad experiences with this.’’

“I'm still wondering whether I'm going to try or not.” Why was she being so kind to her? Alice didn't know what everyone was calling her? Didn't she care?

‘’Do it. The most that can happen is that you won't be accepted.’’

"Yeah…I think it is." Lily nodded, swallowing the ball of nervousness that rose in her throat. "My boyfriend doesn't think I should apply." She didn't know why she'd said that, it just slipped off her tongue without going through her brain first, but as usual, Alice didn't seem to mind.

'’Why not? And you're the one training and dancing, so it's up to you to decide whether you want to or not.” She ran a hand through her brushed hair, and Lily noticed there was a silver ring on her finger. She dated the guy she had sex with in the car? Lily didn't know his name. '’Unless you have labyrinthitis… But, we already had a girl with labyrinthitis on the team, she didn't just participate in the spins, so there's nothing really stopping you from joining us.'’

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Lily took another deep breath, her nervousness lessening a little.

'Sit down.'

"What?" She looked up from her paper, Alice still with that welcoming look from before, but now more attentive.

"Sit down, you've been standing a long time." She did, placing her bag beside her and taking the pen firmly in her hand, signing her name at the top of the sheet, then moving on to the other questions.

Alice was quiet, doing something on her cell phone while Lily concentrated, trying not to show how anxious she was getting at such a silly and simple task. It was like her mind was hazy and the questions started to no longer make sense, Sev's voice telling her that Lily didn't need it because she wasn't like the other girls, making her even more nervous.

"Have you done any dancing yet?" Alice asked, but not taking her eyes off her cell phone.

‘’Ballet. As a child.” Lily glanced at her quickly before turning back to the paper, writing her age and course.

‘’I did artistic gymnastics, but I always wanted to do ballet. It's a very beautiful dance.’’

"Yes, it is." Lily took a deep breath, answering about her schedule and whether she was able to travel out of town during game season.

"I learned to skate when I got to college, Marlene taught me."

"She's also a cheerleader, right?" Alice looked at her, a sweet smile on her lips, then nodded.

"Many say you need to be afraid of her, but that's not true, Marlene is melted butter with the people she likes."

"I hope she likes me." Lily went back to ticking the form, and no, she wasn't using any narcotics or prescription drugs.

"She definitely will," Alive said, and she seemed to speak the truth, winking at Lily and then turning her attention back to her cell phone.

#jily #james x lily #jily au #muggle au #james potter #lily evans #marauders #my fic #wildflower

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hawksmagnolia · 4 years

Text

Not My Name

Drunk Drabble prompt submitted to @HBC

Summary: Reader is tired of shitty sex and Clint’s constant teasing. Bucky decides to take matters into his own hands.

Who: Bucky/reader

Word count: 1,412

Warnings: It’s smut yo. And swearing. And more smut.

Authors Note: Thank you anon for the awesome prompt! I hope you enjoy it. -xo- Allie

“Hey little girl, you got eyes on them?”

“Call me little girl again and I’m going to kick your ass Barton.” I mumbled into the comm.

Clint scoffed. “As if.”

Rolling my eyes, I adjusted my binoculars. “Yeah, I got them. Does Steve know that he’s got a rip in his pants just south of his left ass cheek?”

There was a choked sound and I smirked. Clint was to my left and three stories higher because he wasn’t happy unless there was nothing between him and the sky. Barnes was a building over, a lurking shadow at the steps to a nearby building. Barnes never joined in with Clint and I as we passed time on jobs like this. We had to do something, sometimes we were stuck in position for hours and too much time alone means you start talking to pigeons. Steve had made us stay on our own channel although Barnes could override it if shit went sideways.

“So, how’d your date go last night?”

“Can you not Clint?”

“Hey, I’m your friend. And friends are allowed to ask why your date left looking well and truly fucked and you were a cranky bitch at breakfast this morning. Did he fail too?”

Groaning, I smacked the heel of my hand on my forehead. “I should have never told you that. Ever.”

“I’m just saying, I am totally willing to take a chance at making your dreams come true.”

“You’re a pig.”

Clint laughed. “I am, but you love me anyways. But seriously, this is what- guy number 4 who can’t fuck you to climax with just his cock? Your taste in men sucks.”

“Thanks ever so much Clint for reminding me of that.”

There was a quiet click and a hiss. “Do you two ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nope. What’s wrong Barnes? Feeling left out?”

“Someone has to actually pay attention, especially since we’re clear. But you two can hang out in the trees if you want to. Or maybe you should get a room.”

“Fuck off Barnes.” Clint answered cheerfully. “Race you to the truck. Loser buys Thai food on the way back to the hotel.”

========

I was standing in the bathroom in my favorite pjs (a worn hoodie from the soccer team I played on in college and a pair of boxers left behind from two boyfriends ago) towel drying my hair when someone knocked.

Puzzled, I set my towel down on the counter and padded barefoot to open the door. I was expecting to see Clint or even Steve when it swung out, but I was way off.

I was absolutely not expecting to see James Buchanan “Call me Bucky” Barnes standing there in a pair of perfectly broken in jeans and a blue henley.

I’d heard women swoon about the henleys. Now I knew why, I’d never seen anyone fill out the sleeves of one like he did. It should be illegal for a prosthetic arm to make me want to throw my underwear at him like he was a rock star.

“Barnes. Is everything okay?” I couldn’t even think of a time he’d ever graced my doorstep.

He raised and brow and smirked. “I heard you and Barton earlier.”

“Ok…you always hear us?”

He glanced down the hallway before slipping into my room and shutting the door behind him and throwing the bolt.

“Uh, Barnes? Is this some secret squirrel spy shit?”

“That’s not my name.”

“What?”

He grinned at me causing my belly to do a flip as he pushed my damp hair out of my face. “I said, that’s not my name. I’ll be damned if you’re going to yell that when I make you cum your brains out.”

Now it was my turn to swallow hard as he continued. “I said, I heard you and Barton. About how no man can get you off so I’m here to volunteer.”

Finally having recovered my wits, I was able to smirk. “Oh, how sweet. Coming to my rescue?”

“Hell no. I’m going to ruin you for any other guy.”

“Bring it Barnes.”

“I told you..” He crowded me until my knees hit the edge of the bed and I stumbled back onto it. “That’s not my name.” He brushed his jaw against mine and I was almost embarrassed how my body reacted to just him being close. Almost.

It had been way too long since a guy had made my body feel alive and being around Bucky was like touching a live wire. He caged my head with his arms and licked down the side of my neck before burying his fingers in my hair and kissing me in a smack of teeth, tongue and lips. I moaned into his mouth as he released my hair long enough to yank off my hoodie.

“Look at you, nothing but that between your skin and me.” He drew a lazy fingertip down from my collarbone and over my nipples making me cry out as they tightened. “So goddamn pretty.”

I felt like I was on fire, that my skin was too tight on my bones and could burst into flames any moment. His hands were everywhere, his mouth biting and sucking at my lips, my jaw. I finally managed to grab hold of the bottom of his henley and my fingertips brushed over his cobbled abdomen. He yanked it off in one fast motion, not wanting to leave my mouth for too long. His thigh was pressed between my thighs and I groaned at the friction, twisting as I tried to press harder against the denim.

“Not yet doll. Not yet.” I whined as he moved away from me. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of the boxers he drew them down over my legs and they joined the hoodie and henley on the floor. I stared up at him, half drowning in lust as he picked up my foot and pressed a kiss to the ankle. I whimpered as he knelt between my knees and, with no warning, buried his face into me. His nose bumped my clit as his tongue swirled over the delicate flesh. I felt him press a single finger deep into me, felt the delicious scrape of it as he curled it slightly. I was so lost in his actions that when he stopped, I immediately cried his name and he smiled.

“Oh baby, you’re going to thank me for stopping there.”

“No I won’t- dammit Bucky! Why would…oh!”

He cut me off by thrusting hard and bottoming out in me. There was nothing soft or sweet but he’d made sure I was more than ready for his cock. It burned but it was the best kind, that ache of finally having a tight muscle release and the sharp relief that comes from it. He snapped his hips, my body relishing every violent moment of it.

He shifted, propping himself up on a hand, the metal fingers of his left securing my hips in place when I tried to wiggle.

“Oh no doll. Just you and me.”

I felt like every muscle in my body was straining as I climbed, higher than I ever had before. Bucky’s cock grazed over my clit with each stroke but not enough to give me any relief. He ground his hips into mine as I fisted my hands in the sheets, my body finally releasing, soaking both of us as I flooded out weeks of sexual frustration. He grinned but didn’t relent until he started to grow sloppy and he groaned, collapsing onto me as he splashed my walls.

We laid like that for a while. I’m not sure how long. Long enough my heart to stop pounding in my ears and for our breathing to even out. He was heavy but not enough to make it uncomfortable. His head was on my chest, his eyes closed and I gently swept my finger over the dark curve of his lashes.

“You dead?”

“Mm, little bit. Need water and fifteen minutes and we can go for round two.”

“What?”

He peeked up at me and laughed. “Doll, I told you. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. Besides, can’t have you being cranky in the mornings now can we?”

I carded my fingers through his dark hair. “Absolutely not. Also Clint’s room is next door and I don’t think he heard me this time.”

“Mmm, bet he will next time.”

@the-ss-horniest-book-club

@nano--raptor @cchellacat @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @aesthetical-bucky @marvelgirl7 @sallycanwait68 @buckys-broody-muffin @softpeachbarnes @godofplumsandthunder @azurika-writes @ikaris-whore @this-kitten-is-smitten @randomfandompenguin @bucky-plums-barnes @bugsbucky @littleredstarfish @emilylyoness @hailmary-yramliah @daughterofsteven @ballyhoobarnes

#hbc extended drabbles #HBC #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #smut ahoy!#Bucky Barnes imagine

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cristinablackthornkingson · 3 years

Text

This Poor Unruly Heart. A Thomastair fic.

Cross-posted to my AO3.

***TW/CW**** Alcoholism. Homophobia. Homophobic slurs. (Shortened version of the F slur is used) Emotional abuse. Abusive parent. Abusive relationships. Mention of child loss.

It is a cold Winter’s day in late 1903, when both Alastair Carstairs and Thomas Lightwood, make the most terrifying and nerve wracking decision of their lives. After 3 months of being with each other they have decided to hide no longer, and come out to their parents.

Out of the two of them, Alastair is certainly most terrified, for so long Charles made him believe that he would always have to live in secret, he manipulated and twisted him into believing that everyone would be disgusted and hate him. Alastair knows his mother is a very traditional woman, and throughout his childhood he has heard his father throw around slurs and nasty words about people like Alastair.

However Alastair does not want to hide anymore, like he had to with Charles, he loves Thomas and wants everyone to know that, no matter what. With Elias still being in Idris for another day or so, Alastair will have a chance to speak with him privately, if all goes well with telling his mother.

Cordelia has known that Alastair is gay for a while now, she was the first person he came out to, and has been nothing but loving and supportive toward him, when he told her his plans to come out to their parents, she offered to be there for moral support. Alastair happily agreed, glad to have her to lean on.

So now he has found himself in the drawing room of Cirenworth, sitting on the couch next to Cordelia, across from their mother, who at 7 months pregnant looks more stressed, tired and ill than Alastair has ever seen her. He’s terrified of stressing her out and worrying her further, afraid of hurting her or the baby, but he refuses to have his baby brother or sister born into a world where their big brother is hiding a big part of who he is. If the baby is like Alastair, he wants them to have a good influence, someone to look up to and admire, like he has always secretly admired Anna.

“What trouble have you two gotten into now?” Sona’s tired but amused voice pulls Alastair from his thoughts. He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, his poor mother having to deal with everything he and Cordelia and their friends got up to recently, hopefully the baby won’t be such a handful when they grow up.

“No mamán, we haven’t done anything, I... I need to speak with you about something, something I... discovered about myself.” Aalstair chooses his words carefully, trying not to fidget or let his nerves overtake him.

“Alright, what is it?” Sona asks, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her bump. Alastair gives Cordelia a brief glance and she smiles and slips her hand into his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Alastair holds tightly to Cordelia and takes a deep breath. He then looks straight at his mother, and calmly says

“I’m gay, I’m attracted to men, and I’ve been seeing someone, a man. Thomas Lightwood to be exact. We’ve been seeing eachother for a few months now and I wanted to finally tell you mamán, because it is a big part of me and my life.”

Sona leans forward in her chair and takes Alastair’s free hand in hers.

“Are you happy?” She calmly asks. Alastair wordlessly nods, not daring to get his hopes up. “And this Lightwood boy, does he make you happy, does he treat you well?”

“Yes.” Alastair says in a breathy tone. “I... I love him, mamán, he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I have never been happier than I have been since I began seeing Thomas. He... he makes me feel so loved and important.”

Sona smiles warmly and brushes her son’s dark hair back from his face.

“Then if you are happy, I’m happy.” Alastair feels the tears of relief and joy well up in his eyes as his breath catches in his throat.

“R-really?” He stammers. Sona nods and brushes his tears away.

“Yes Eshgham, all I want for you, Cordelia and this baby, is for you to be happy and healthy. Nothing and no one matters more to me than you 3, and a little thing like the sex of the person you love, is not going to make a difference to how much I love you, Alastair.” Sona’s voice is soft and low, full of love but also firm, so Alastair knows how serious she is.

Alastair lets out a sob of relief and lets his head fall onto his mother’s shoulder, as her arms go around him, her hand running through his hair, while Cordelia rubs his back.

“I love you mamán.” Alastair sniffs. Sona presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too Alastair joon, very much. I do want to meet this Thomas boy of course, to make sure he’s deserving of you, not just anyone is worthy of being loved by my son, you know.” Sona lightly says, as Alastair lifts his head and wipes at his tears. He laughs at the thought of tall, muscular Thomas being lectured by his small, heavily pregnant mother.

“He is James’ cousin, so I think you will like him very much.” Alastair laughs, knowing how much his mother adores James.

“Like who very much?” The sweet and happy moment is suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice from the doorway that makes the blood in Alastair’s veins run cold. He turns his head to see his father standing in the doorway, dressed smartly but with his hair greasy and ratty, months worth of stubble on his jaw, his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, and a poorly hidden bottle of whisky poking out of his coat pocket.

“Oh Elias, we weren’t expecting you back for another day or so.” Sona says in a somewhat surprised tone, pushing herself to her feet to greet her husband, going in for a kiss to the cheek but recoiling when she smells the alcohol on him.

Elias completely ignores his wife, focusing all of his attention on Alastair.

“Who and what were you talking about? It seems like you were in the middle of a rather serious moment.” He asks in a deadly calm voice.

“Papa not now, Alastair is tired.” Cordelia protests, wanting to do whatever she can to save her brother having to face their father unplanned like this.

“I was not speaking to you Cordelia, I was speaking to your brother. I will ask again, who and what were you talking about? If you told your mother, you need to tell me.” there is now anger and irritation seeping into Elias’ tone.

“I...” Alastair begins, not quiet sure where to go with this. “Um, well I...”

“Have you hit your head or are you honestly as dense as I always knew?” Elias spits out in acidic tone, horrifying everyone in the room. It’s not the first time he’s spoken so cruelly to Alastair, though he’s never done so in front of anyone else before.

“Papa!” Cordelia protests.

“Be quiet Cordelia. You, get on with it.” He growls, glaring at Alastair.

“I’m gay!” Alastair blurts, cringing at how abrupt and sudden it was.

Elias scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous Alastair, you are far too young to know who you do and do not love, not that it is love, homosexuality is a disease, an illness of the mind.” He tells him in a dismissive tone. Alastair feels as though his heart may break in half. Nobody has ever said something so cruel to him before.

“No it is not, the love I feel for Thomas is just the same as any other type of love. He makes me happy and treats me well, I love him, it is one of the very few things in life I have ever been so certain of. I love him, father.” Alastair’s tone is tight as tears start to well up again, but there is also pride in his tone, and love at the thought of Thomas.

Before Alastair can comprehend anything else, his father is right in front of him, face to face, so close Alastair can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Elias let him go!” Sona yells, tugging at her husband’s arm, only to have him shake her off.

“No mamán don’t, you may get hurt, you or the baby.” Alastair tells her, holding his chin high and refusing to show his father any fear.

“Now you listen here boy.” Elias hisses. “No son of mine is going to be some disgusting fag, I will not have you taint the good family name of Carstairs. You are not irreplaceable, that child your mother carries could well be a boy, I could very easily replace you with him. And if you wish to have a place under my roof, you will shut your disgusting little mouth and never speak of this filth again!”

“Papa! Don’t speak to him like that, leave him alone!” Cordelia yells, trying to pull her father away, only for him to push her back, almost knocking her over.

Alastair has never been a violent man, despite his nasty attitude when he was younger, he would actually never harm a fly. However this time, Elias his gone too far. Alastair firmly places his hands on his father’s chest and with force, shoves him away so he is not in his face.

Alastair is about to respond, to tell Elias he’s free to replace him with the new baby, but Sona speaks up first.

“That is enough!” Her strong and firm tone rings clear through the room, stopping everyone and everything in their tracks.

“Elias Carstairs if you so much as ever lay a hand on my son again, I swear to the angel you will be sorry. You need to get off of your pedestal, you are not some all high and mighty holier than though member of society, you are a nasty, abusive man who refuses to get help for an addiction that has ruined everything. You ruined Alastair’s childhood with your alcoholism, I am not about to let you ruin the rest of his life with your homophobia.

I have put up with your nasty and abusive ways for the last 18 years, I have dealt with you calling me fat, lazy, useless, ugly, and many, many other things. I am done with it, no more. I took your abuse with the hope you would leave Cordelia and Alastair alone, and they could have nice normal lives. That is not how it works though, I know better now. I deserve better, my children deserve better.

I want a divorce, Elias, and I will be making sure you have no custody or involvement of this baby, as far as I am concerned this child is mine and mine alone, they have no father.”

There is a shocked silence throughout the room, following Sona’s pronouncement. Alastair feels guilty for feeling happy that his mother is leaving his father, and hopeful that he can escape him. He’s not meant to want his parents to split up, being the child of a divorced couple is shameful according to society. But why? Why is it shameful for Sona to escape her abuser, to give her baby a better chance at life and to take Cordelia and Alastair away from a toxic and abusive person?

The first to speak is Elias. He scoffs and sneers at his wife.

“Oh please, you need me Sona, you have nowhere to go and nothing without me.”

“I will go to The Institute, The Herondales will welcome me. I have plenty, Elias, I have savings you know nothing of, I have valuables I can sell should I need to, I have clothes for the baby, nappies are not hard to come by, I have everything I need, I most certainly do not need you.” Sona’s tone is impassive as she steadily holds Elias’ gaze. She then turns to her children, her gaze softening slightly.

“Alastair, Cordelia, you are of course welcome to come with me, wherever I find a home you will have a home, but if you wish to stay with your father then I will not be hurt or upset, and you will still be able to see your little brother or sister when they are born. The choice is yours.” Of course Sona wants her children to come with her, but she knows forcing them to if they do not want to, will not make her any better than Elias.

“I want to go with you mamán.” Cordelia immediately says, the love and respect she has always held for her father now shattered into pieces, never to be repaired.

“Me too, and I can help you with money mamán, now that I am old enough to receive earnings from The Clave.” Alastair says, leaning into his mother, who smiles and cups his cheek.

“Thank you Azizam, but you most certainly do not have to.” She then links her arm through with his and puts the other around Cordelia’s shoulders. “Come along, we can come back for our things later. For now I would like to meet your Thomas, Alastair. I am sure he’s a good boy if he’s related to James, but I need to be sure, as I said, not just anyone is deserving of my son’s heart.”

Alastair smiles brightly, his heart lifting and his pain easing at the thought of introducing his mother to Thomas, and having a peaceful and calm life at The Institute, where he will be free to love Thomas and be himself.

Meanwhile, in the Lightwood London townhouse, Thomas is nervously sitting in front of his parents in the drawing room, preparing to come out to them. He is sure they’ll be loving and accepting, they love and accept Anna, but maybe it will be different with their own child, especially their only son. Perhaps his father expects him to carry on the Lightwood name, what with Christopher having no interest in romance or anything of the sort, and little Alex only being 3.

“What’s going on Tommy? What do you need to talk to us about?” Sophie’s concerned voice pulls Thomas from his thoughts, and he lifts his head to look at his parents, sitting side by side, their hands entwined, both of them looking concerned.

“Uhh...” Thomas begins in an unsure tone. “Well... I’m... I’m gay.” Thomas blurts out, wanting it over and done with, holding his breath as he waits for his parents to react.

Immediately they both visibly relax, Gideon’s shoulders slumping in relief and Sophie placing a hand on her chest and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh love is that all?” Sophie asks with a hint of amusement in her tone. Baffled, Thomas nods.

“You gave us a fright Tom, we thought something was dreadfully wrong.” Gideon laughs, relieved beyond words that all is well with Thomas. He could not lose another child, Barbara’s death almost killed him, loosing Thomas or Eugenia would certainly be the end of him.

“We’ve always known that about you my darling, do you think we haven’t noticed you gawping at all the handsome men we pass on the street, or how you just loved hearing about your sisters' courting conquests and always asked for details on the men?” Sophie laughs, remembering 11 year old Thomas sitting with his sisters and listening intently as Barbara recounted her first outing with her first boyfriend.

“It... it doesn’t bother you?” Thomas asks in a hopeful tone. Could it really be this simple and easy? Could he be so lucky?

“Not one bit.” Sophie assures him.

“Just don’t steal Eugenia’s dresses if you want to wear women’s clothes, she loves you but she will not be pleased if you steal her dresses.” Gideon says in a light tone, earning a laugh from Thomas.

“I would not dare get between Genie and her dresses, though I have no desire to wear one myself, they seem rather uncomfortable.” He says.

“You do not know the half of it my love.” Sophie laughs, squeezing Thomas’ hand. “Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Remember, we’ll always love you and support you.”

Thomas bites his lip and takes a few seconds to think, before looking at his parents again.

“Well... actually, I am seeing someone. Alastair Carstairs to be exact.” Thomas nervously admits.

“Oh he is a lovely boy! Good to know your good sense continues through to the romantic aspect of your life.” Sophie grins, shocking Thomas.

“You like him? But mama he was the one who spread those nasty rumors about you a few years ago.” Thomas quietly says. He knows Alastair has changed and grown since then, but does his mother?

“He was a child, a scared child who was going through a lot of trauma, he made a mistake for which he is clearly very sorry. And besides I think it is quiet obvious that he at 16 did not just suddenly decide to spread rumors about strange adults who had nothing to do with him. I would not be surprised in the least if he was repeating what he heard from his father.” Sophie quietly says, trying not to let her anger escape. She is not angry with Alastair, but she is angry with Elias, who has said very unkind things about her before, some to her face and some behind her back.

Before Thomas can reply, there is a rap on the dinning room door and Scarlet- the Lightwood’s maid- steps in.

“Sorry to interrupt M’am, Sirs, there are guests here to see you, Mrs. Carstairs and her two children.” Scarlet quietly says. Thomas’ heart begins to race. Why is Alastair here? Is he alright?

“Oh, please do send them through Scarlet, thank you.” Sophie says, wondering why the Carstairs’ have turned up here. It’s not as if they are very close friends or anything of the sort.

A few seconds later Sona Carstairs steps into the drawing room, followed closely by Cordelia and Alastair.

“I am very sorry to intrude and interrupt, we can leave if we are inconveniencing you.” Sona says in an apologetic tone.

“No no nonsense, you are very welcome. Please, sit. Would you like something to drink or eat? Would you like to put your feet up, Sona?” Sophie kindly asks, remembering how easily her feet swelled up when she was pregnant all 3 times, by the time she was 7 months pregnant with Barbara she couldn’t fit into her shoes anymore and had to buy new ones specifically for pregnancy.

“Thank you, you are very kind but a simple seat will do, I get so tired so easily these days.” Sona says in a breathy tone, as Cordelia helps her sit in a nearby armchair.

Thomas and Alastair, meanwhile, share a delighted look at seeing one another. Thomas grins and quickly strides across the room and slips his hand into Alastair's.

“Mama, papa, this is Alastair, my boyfriend.” He proudly says, grinning at his parents.

Sophie immediately joins them and pulls Alastair into a hug, taking him by complete surprise.

“Don’t break his heart, alright?” Sophie softly says when she pulls back, placing a hand on Alastair’s cheek. Alastair smiles and nods.

“I promise, Mrs. Lightwood.”

Sophie smiles and squeezes his hand before stepping back to let Gideon talk to Alastair.

“Our Thomas is a sweet boy, with so much capacity to love. I’m sure you already know this but it is an honor to be loved by him in anyway. Never forget that, alright?” Alastair nods.

“Of course not Mr. Lightwood.” He assures him. Gideon smiles and holds his hand out for Alastair to shake.

“Good, and if you ever need some fatherly advice or a man to man talk, I am always here.” The offer almost makes Alastair tear up again.

“Thank you Mr. Lightwood, I very much appreciate that.”

“Now you just have to meet Genie, I think she will like you too.” Thomas lightly says, laying his head on Alastair’s shoulder. Alastair chuckles and puts an arm around his boyfriend.

“Well now it is my turn to introduce you to my family. You already know Layla, but you haven’t met my wonderful mother yet. Mamán this is Thomas, my boyfriend.”

With help from Cordelia Sona stands up from her chair and beams brightly at Thomas. She pulls him down for a hug and squeezes tightly.

“It is so lovely to meet the boy who has made my Alastair happy again. Treat him well.”

Over the next few months the Lightwoods and Carstairs grow very close. Gideon helps Sona begin proceedings for her divorce and also helps her make a case against Elias having any custody of the baby. They have plenty of evidence of him being an unfit parent and a danger to the baby, so it only takes a matter of weeks for it be agreed upon by The Silent Brothers and The Clave that Elias has no legal rights to the baby and will not be allowed around them at all.

Sophie helps Sona through the rest of her difficult pregnancy, having had a hard pregnancy herself, with Thomas.

Thomas and Alastair grow closer and fall even more in love, and Cordelia finds a new friend in Eugenia.

2 months later on a rainy February day, Cordelia, Alastair, Thomas and Eugenia are all nervously waiting outside the Institute infirmary, waiting for word on Sona who went into labor in the early hours of the morning. Brother Zachariah came right away, and has been doing a wonderful job of helping Sona through her labor while also keeping everyone else updated.

8 hours after Sona went into labor, the silence of the infirmary waiting room is interrupted by the squeaking of the infirmary door opening.

The 4 teenagers turn to look at the doorway, where Brother Zachariah now stands, his hood drawn back and his hands folded neatly in front of him.

“Uncle Jem.” Cordelia leans forward, eager to hear what he has to say. “Is mama alright, and the baby?”

Yes everything is absolutely fine Cordelia. In fact, you have a healthy baby brother, congratulations.

Cordelia gasps and shrieks in delight, turning to hug Alastair tightly.

“A boy! It’s a boy Al, we have a baby brother!” She gleefully exclaims. Alastair laughs in delight and holds his sister tight, picking her up and spinning her around twice, unable to contain his utter glee and delight. His mother is alright, his baby brother is alright, everything is alright.

“Two against one! You are done for, Layla!” Alastair teases, setting his sister down and affectionately tugging at a lock of her hair. Cordelia laughs and playfully swats him on the arm.

“Not a chance! I’m going to go hold him first!” she quickly turns on her heel and hurries into the infirmary after Jem.

“I always wanted a little brother, I’m quiet envious!” Thomas lightly says, slipping an arm around Alastair’s waist. “I am very happy for you.” Alastair beams at his boyfriend and kisses him.

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

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thatsbucknasty · 4 years

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she used to be mine (ii) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life. pairing: Y/N x Bucky tags are open c:

this is a short chapter but we get to meet Bucky!

chapter 2: what baking can do

I’ve had one week to think about this. I was raised by very religious parents, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those pricks who want to decide over women’s bodies. I just, I wouldn’t do it myself, you know? I always wanted to be a mother, just not to Quentin’s baby. It’s confusing, I know. Leaving him sounds easy to an outsider but he’s all I have.

My mom died when I was 16 and my drunk dad left town with his new wife two years later. We got married six months after graduation and I didn’t get to go to college but he wrote songs about me and I really thought his band was gonna make it big. I believed in his talent. It’s been ten years. I was on the pill all these years and it never failed. One drunk night and that stupid red dress, that’s all it took. But it’s time to move on and be practical. I won’t leave Quentin. That’s not on my short term plans. All I can do for now is work my ass off, save some money for this baby and go see a doctor.

Doctor Lily Perkins likes my pies. It’s gonna be delicious. I’ll make something sweet with berries just for her.

Rolling the dough for the crust is my favourite part. I remember how my mom would hide in the kitchen when my dad was drunk. She would turn the bitter days into sweet red velvet cookies and strawberry milkshakes. She taught me everything I know, from cracking eggs one-handedly to whisking stiff peaks of italian meringue. But rolling the dough for the first cherry pie I ever made, is my favourite memory of hers and mine.

“Careful, you don’t want the sugar gnomes to come eat your nose at night”. She says nonchalantly while smearing powder sugar on my nose.

“Hey! I’m trying to work here!” I yell in between giggles.

Tonight I took an extra shift to start my Baby Savings. That means baking 12 pies that need to be ready for tomorrow morning and another one to take with me on my first doctor’s appointment after work. I haven’t told Quentin yet. But let’s not think about that right now,

Let’s focus on doctor Perkin’s pie. It needs to be perfect. The right amount of sugar can make a dull day brighter, too much and it messes the whole taste experience. I think blueberry base, whipped cream and marshmallows on top will be nice. Maybe some chocolate drizzle? She’ll love it.

I remember coming here with my mom when I was seven. I had a bad case of chickenpox. It looks exactly the same. Light blue walls with ABC’s wallpaper on the nurse’s desk wall. She said on the phone her name was Maria. I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes because a crying five year old won’t take his shots. It’s okay though, I’m not in a rush but the doctor’s office isn’t my favorite place to be. Reminds me of the countless appointments with my mother.

“Mrs. Beck? The doctor will see you now”. Maria calls me and I go inside to an empty office.

“The doctor will be here in a minute, please change into this robe and hop on the exam table, you can leave your clothes on the stool right there”. Her eyes never leave her phone. “Good luck!” She finally looks at me and smiles before leaving me to change.

“Sorry for the wait, Mrs. Y/N Bell, my wife just called. We, um… nevermind. It was a long call, you know how it is”. What's happening? Who’s this man?

“It says here you got some blood work done and are here for the results”. He’s looking at the medical chart in his hands. Who’s this man and where’s doctor Perkins?

“You brought a pie? My goodness, I’ve only been in this town for a couple weeks now but the hospitality of the people keeps blowing my mind. I’m from Chicago, you know? Never in a million years I’d expect a patient to bring me pie! Sorry, I’m talking too much,tell me, how are you Mrs. Bell?” Finally, he shuts up and turns to face me. The most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen almost make me forget how mad at him I am. God, he’s really, really tall. And that jawline. Just, wow.

“It’s Beck, not Bell”, I say clearly irritated, “but you can call me Y/N. And who are you? I was expecting Doctor Lily Perkins. I brought this pie for her actually”.

“Oh, silly me! Forgot the introductions. I’m Doctor James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” He shakes my hand and I get a whiff of his sweet and musky cologne. He stares at me. For an awkward amount of time. God I hate this much eye contact, look away!

“Doctor Perkins is actually retired now. I came to this town to replace her. Amazing woman isn’t she? She actually taught a class when I was in colle- sorry, I’m talking too much again”.

“Yes you are. I mean, it’s okay. But you don’t understand, Lily Perkins delivered me, she’s been my family’s doctor all my life. I really trust her”. I’m almost yelling at this man, but this can’t be happening. My eyes are watering and my emotions are all over the place. Why are his lips so rosy? Did he eat all the kid’s lollipops before I got here?

“Well, maybe you can really trust me?” He does a little dance with his shoulders and if I wasn’t so mad at him for not being Doctor Perkins, I’d think he was adorable.

“I don’t know. I guess I can try”, he lights up. “But it won’t be easy!”

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, I promise you won’t regret this. Now, tell me, what brings you here?

“Well, I think I might be pregnant”.

“Oh! How nice, nice, nice. Er, congrats!” He nervously averts his eyes to his medical chart once again and his ears are red, what’s wrong with this doctor?

“Thank you, but I don’t want this baby”.

“Oh well, in that case I can refer you to the doctor who can take care of the ab-”

“No, no, no. I mean, I’m having this baby, I’m just not thrilled by the circumstances so if you could just, not congratulate me or make a big deal out of it. That’d be nice, thanks”. I cross my arms and look into his eyes, searching for judgement but it isn’t there.

“Do not make a big deal out of it. Got it!”

“Excuse me, Doctor Barnes? Mrs. Beck’s blood test results are here”. Maria chimes in.

“Well then, uncongrats! You are pregnant” He says awkwardly trying to cheer me up. It’s gonna take some time to get used to this doctor’s antics but at least he is being nice?

“Un-thank you.” I deadpan.

“Okay... Let’s see this baby, please lie down Mrs. Beck”.

“Do you have any questions? Diet? What to do or don’t do, exercise, sex?” Did he just, giggle?

“I don’t really do any of those things”.

“Neither do I, sis!” Maria calls from the door. She’s been there all this time?

“Well, in that case, Maria will give you a list of foods you can’t have and I want to see you back here in four weeks, alright?”

“Perfect… Um, Doctor Barnes?”

He looks at me, with those big blue eyes.

“I think you should have this pie or it’ll go to waste”.

“That’s really nice of you, Y/N. I’ve actually quit sugar, but um, I wouldn’t want it to go to waste either, it looks delicious.”

“Well, what’s life without a little sweetness from time to time? I promise you’ll find it worth cheating on your diet”.

I think I just made my doctor blush.

chapter 3: when he sees me

pls reblog if you liked it c:

#waitress au #waitress musical #bucky x reader #doctor!bucky #waitress!reader #bucky barnes #quentin beck #maria hill #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #nick fury #marvel au #fluff #bucky fluff #she used to be mine #chapter 2 #nina writes

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remuslupinfest · 4 years

Text

Remus Lupin Fest 2020 Master List (Anon)

We're pleased to release this years Master List of fics, sorted by ship and alphabetically! There's 38 incredible works! Author and artist reveals are next week.

GEN

TITLE: First Year SUMMARY: I hope whoever prompted this in the first place is happy with the result. I know it's super messy but I was experimenting a bit with my style!

TITLE: On Talking SUMMARY: Five conversations Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall have during Prisoner of Azkaban and one they do not.

TITLE: One of Many Happy Moments SUMMARY: Remus has only come back home from one of particularly typical days of teaching in Hogwarts, but he couldn’t refuse Teddy to read the book together

TITLE: Remus Lupin Sleeping Peacefully SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus sleeping peacefully.

TITLE: Tousled SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus wrapped in a sheet/duvet going to the bathroom or kitchen after having had sex with someone. Maybe someone knocks on the door and he can’t find his trousers. He’s flushed, tousled and possibly has a hickey or two.

REMUS/MISC

TITLE: A Heart Grows Warm SUMMARY: After the war, Remus is a single father and desperate for a job. Snape hires him to work in his potions shop, but Remus can't ignore the building sexual tension between them.

TITLE: Bad Moon Rising SUMMARY: James, Lily and Voldemort all died on Halloween night. Years later, Remus is working in the Auror Department on a confusing case of a transformed werewolf stalking a family outside of a full moon and is assigned a brilliant new Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, to work with him.

TITLE: Briseé SUMMARY: Death eater!Remus struggles to face his past after the death of his lover and the end of his freedom.

TITLE: Care to Share? SUMMARY: Remus had every intention of enjoying solidarity over the holidays. That may change now that he's not the only Slytherin staying behind.

TITLE: His Luck SUMMARY: Modern setting, model/photographer AU for Remus Lupin and Narcissa Black. Written for the Remus Lupin fest 2020.

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: One Night In Barcelona SUMMARY: The chemistry was too much to resist.

TITLE: Readjusting SUMMARY: When Voldemort murders Frank and Alice Longbottom, their baby survives. Meanwhile, Lily moves into a flat in Muggle London. Alone. With baby Harry and the cat. Remus helps.

TITLE: The Paths We Take SUMMARY: Lily Evans Lupin is a detective, though her husband Remus' name is on all the paperwork. He writes incredible tales while she solves mysteries. All seems normal as the Second World War ends, and Lily is hoping for peace and eventual renown for her talents legally attributed to Remus. Her and Remus' entire world comes crashing down once more as Sirius O. Black, Remus' first love, enters their agency, with one request: to find his missing brother Regulus, who joined the Nazis and hasn't come home. Can Lily find the missing Regulus? Can Remus face his heartbreak?

TITLE: You keep messing with my brain SUMMARY: The awful truth was that when he had noticed Regulus Black he couldn’t exactly look away anymore.

WOLFSTAR

TITLE: AMOR VINCIT OMNIA (love conquers all) SUMMARY: Remus, a servant boy to the cruel Emperor Voldemort, meets Sirius, a charming nobleman. Together they fight for freedom and love in Ancient Rome.

TITLE: An Endearing Portrait SUMMARY: At the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius fears that Remus’s mother and perhaps Remus himself, too, prefers someone else.

TITLE: Falling Into Place SUMMARY: There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.

TITLE: Fate and Other Ambiguous Notions SUMMARY: Truth be told, Sirius has never really paid much attention to Remus before... (Slytherin!Remus, Gryffindor!Sirius)

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: If You’ll Be Waiting SUMMARY: Remus gets the Information that Sirius is probably still alive. He goes on a road trip to Germany with Harry to find him.

TITLE: In the Throws of You SUMMARY: Prompt 178: Sirius has a track record for picking bad BDSM doms, but luckily Remus is always there to provide the proper aftercare he needs.

TITLE: Ivory and Gold SUMMARY: Sirius Black is all Remus has been looking for and more. A muse, an inspiration, a theme he never wishes to let go. He’s magnetic. And Remus lets himself be pulled in.

TITLE: Let the Awful Song Be Heard, Bluebird SUMMARY: Prompt: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. – Vita Sackville West In some ways, they are still Padfoot and Moony.

TITLE: making a fool out of myself (for you) SUMMARY: Sirius and Remus have been friends for years. However, unbeknownst to the other, both of them have a secret life working as a clown. Over the years, Remus and Sirius have competed against each other in the clown/birthday party circuit, becoming actual clown enemies of each other without knowing their true identities... until now, that is.

TITLE: Meet the Moonies SUMMARY: Remus introduces Sirius to his parents for the first time.

TITLE: Renewal SUMMARY: Remus and Sirius return to Remus's cabin together after the events of Harry's third school year come to a close. Remus decides that Sirius would be much better off with a haircut and some TLC.

TITLE: Sanctify My Body (With Pain) SUMMARY: When Remus leaves for what is essentially a suicide mission, Sirius finds himself grappling with the realities of a life where he doesn't know if the love of his life is dead or alive.

Perhaps the most confusing question in these situations is: which is worse?

TITLE: Siren songs SUMMARY: Sirius had heard of mermaids before, of course. They were all over the songs bards performed at his parents' table and the tall tales sailors traded in every port. He had never given much thought to whether or not the stories were true, though. Imagine his surprise when he and his best mates found themselves shipwrecked on an unfamiliar shore, with a breathtaking and mysterious merman for their only ally.

TITLE: Sweet Nuthin’ SUMMARY: When the summer between third and fourth year begins, Sirius expects it to be nothing but lazy days, harmless pranks with James, and the occasional meet-up with the rest of his friends from Hogwarts. Those plans go out the window rather quickly when he gets a sudden glimpse of Remus Lupin, a mysterious boy who changes everything about Sirius Black's life and shows him that love will always win in the end.

TITLE: Teddy’s Wedding SUMMARY: Teddy's wedding brings about memories of the past and hopes for the future.

TITLE: That Iron Taste SUMMARY: In the middle of a particularly bitter winter, a new attendee starts showing up in Father Black’s congregation. He is entirely unfamiliar and wholly arresting. In his wake there will be confusion, horror, heat, bliss, blood, and perhaps the end of reality itself.

TITLE: The Great Gay Pornstar Twitter Feud of 2020 SUMMARY: “So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a date with your hot, clever, fellow porn-star twitter nemesis, of whom you once said ‘I’d rather die than let that pretentious knobcloud touch my dick’... is that about right?”

“... Yes.”

Or; Remus Lupin forgets to turn the fucking camera on.

TITLE: The King I Could Become SUMMARY: Prince Sirius of Nox has one thing he cannot stand. Or rather it should be said, one person. Prince Remus of Lupos. They had never gotten along well, though their kingdoms are close allies, but a disturbance in the lands has brought them together on a quest. They'll be able to take down this threat...if they can survive each other's presence first.

TITLE: The New Sailing Master SUMMARY: Sirius is a pirate, Remus is a fugitive, Remus manages to get a lift aboard the Blithering Idiot and it's love at first sight…

TITLE: Things We Can’t Say SUMMARY: Prompt 18: Angst during the first war, based on being on opposite sides. Trying to convince them to join the light side maybe, or accidentally injuring each other or close friends of each other.

TITLE: Thoroughly Debauched SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus riding Sirius in a chair

TITLE: To Admit What Is Not More Illegal SUMMARY: On Valentine’s Day in their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius tries to offer what Remus needs, and starts figuring out if he's ashamed of something, and if he is, what it is.

TITLE: You Would Be Calling Me Moony SUMMARY: A month after Sirius falls through the Veil, Remus starts seeing Sirius in his dreams. But they're only dreams...right?

#remus lupin fest 2020 #Master list #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #nymphadora tonks #tonks #remadora #fleur delacour #severus snape #regulus black #hp rare pair #hp fanfic #hp fanart #harry potter fan fest #narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #lily evans #lily potter

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parkersharthook · 4 years

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Angel On Fire

Peter Stark-Rogers & Stark-Rogers!reader (twins)

warnings: weed smokage, family arguing, mentions of sex, insecurity of one’s self

2k+ words

series masterlist

requested: can you write a one shot from the peter Stark Rogers and sibling!reader? Like what is it like when one of them brings a partner over?

Okay so kinda different than requested. y/n doesn’t bring anyone home but it’s talked about

You don’t know how it happened honestly. You had thought you were being sneaky and sly.

Apparently not. Your fathers had found out, and worse of all… they wanted to meet him.

Honestly, youre not sure you’ve heard an idea worse than bringing home the guy you’ve been talking to/hanging out with/maybe your boyfriend/idk you haven’t talked about it. You didn’t even have an actual label for it and you were already bringing him home?!

And of course when you disagreed with your parents about bringin said boy home, they instantly assumed the worst about him, about you, about the relationship.

They’re thought process went:

Don’t want us to meet him?

He’s hiding something.

Drugs.

Criminal record.

Sex offender.

Bad for our daughter.

Let’s kill him.

Let’s have Bucky kill him.

So now here you were, surrounded by your /entire/ family. And they all happened to be talking – read: interrogating – you at once.

It wasn’t until you felt a small tickle in the back of your head did you even lift your gaze from the table. You met eyes with Wanda and she just gave you a sympathetic smile. She was young, she understood this. She’s had more than one partner scared and threatened by Clint, which in turn means Bucky.

You okay?

No.

Hang in there.

The conversation was short and sweet, and it left you feeling slightly better. But then Wanda ended the little connection and you were thrust back into the very loud and very out of control room. Your headache came back immediately.

You groaned and dropped your head back into your hands, letting yourself do what you were good at: ignoring your family’s constant disapproval.

I guess that wans’t fair. You did love your family and you knew they loved you, it was just always so much. And it usually felt like you couldn’t do anything right. There was a reason you spent most nights out and about rather than stuck at home. It was just… suffocating at times. And it wasn’t like you were out doing bad things, maybe a joint here and there, but nothing horrendous.

It wasn’t like your family was your villain origin story or anything. So yeah, you were fine.

“y/n?”

You lifted your head slowly and raised a confused brow, “huh?”

“We were asking you questions.”

“right. Sorry, I was too busy ignoring you guys.”

Clint snorted and then promptly shut his mouth after a harsh glare from Steve. He shook his head stiffly, “not funny. Sorry.”

Tony rolled his eyes and then looked to his daughter. Thank god Morgan was still too young for all of this. “we were curious when we’re going to meet this boyfriend of yours.”

“thinking that he’s not my boyfriend… never. He’s just a guy I’ve been talking to.”

“and hanging out with.” Peter mumbled with obvious distate. You turned to glare at him

“do you want me to punch you in the face?”

“I’d like to see you try.” He countered. And in very you fashion, without warning, you landed a swift punch to Peter’s nose.

He tumbled backwards out of his chair, clutching the nose. Wimp, you had barely hit him.

Steve scrambled to help peter, but mostly everyone was just stunned that you were able to land something on him. Granted, Peter’s spidey sense never really worked around you due to the inexplicable trust he had with you.

You clutched your hand slightly and stood up, “thank you all for your concern. I am not bringing this boy here because he would ignore me the minute it was over and I’m done having things ruined because of my last name. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to make a McDonald’s run and get some all-day breakfast.”

You spun on your heel and walked out of the room, grabbing your hoodie and pushing your feet into your sneakers along the way. “also, please no one follow me. It really kills my mood. Okay thanks, bye!”

It was a few hours later and you found yourself on the roof of MJ’s apartment with the girl and a large bag of McDonald’s between the two of you. You had a chocolate shake on the other side of you and she had a sweet tea in her hand. Oh, there was also a joint dangling between her fingers. Pretty standard for the two of you.

You were watching the sun slowly lower in the sky, happy to see the colors beginning to turn pinkish.

MJ took a large sip of her drink before biting in her next hash brown, “you know that James and Sam are following you. They’re a few rooftops over.”

“yeah I know, I pretend to not notice them so I don’t hurt their egos.”

A distant “hey!” was heard and it caused both of you to laugh slightly. And sure enough, a few moments later Bucky and Sam appeared in front of you two, sitting down casually.

Bucky immediately grabbed for the bag of McDonald’s, searching through the napkins for any food. Sucks for him, you had already eaten everything.

Sam however reaches for the joint and quickly snubs it. MJ gives him an pretty impressive unimpressed look, “dude, there’s like half a joint left there. Can I have it back at least?”

“do you have a medical marijuana card?”

“that’s less than two ounces, worse you can do is fine me is fifty bucks.” Sam doesn’t budge. “dude I thought you were the cool avenger.”

Sam grumbles but concedes, handing the joint back. “put it away at least. I can’t be seen hanging around delinquents.”

You took another large sip of your milkshake and gave the duo a cocky grin, “then why do you hang out with Bucky?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, stretching out his leg and nudging you with his boot. You gave him a questioning look and he gestured to your milkshake and then made grabby hands.

“um no. I paid for this, it’s mine.”

Bucky grumbled, “don’t be stingy.”

Sam pushed Bucky roughly, causing the man to obnoxiously fall to his side. Bucky made a barely there effort to sit up before deciding to just stay on his back, his eyes tracing the clouds overhead.

“look, obviously you’re here because my dads asked you to tail me.”

Sam shrugged, “basically but we thought you might wanna talk to us.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled slightly as you saw MJ relight her j. She wordlessly handed it to you and you easily took a drag. “now why would I want to do that?”

Bucky knocked your shoe with a hard knuckle, “because we’re your favorite uncles.”

You snorted. Sam looked at you with obvious disapproval, “you know we don’t care if you smoke weed but can you at least not do it in front of us? That way we can at least pretend to be oblivious to all your teenage rebellion and angst.”

Both you and MJ laughed. She gestured between the two of you, “this isn’t rebellion. We could be at a NYU party right now with coke up our nose if we wanted to. This is chill.”

Bucky grimaced, “please don’t talk about putting cocaine up your noses. It makes me queasy.”

Sam quickly steered the topic of conversation away from drugs, “Look, I know your dads are overbearing and its obvious that Peter doesn’t like the kid so we get that this whole thing is a lot. But there’s got to be a reason you don’t want him to meet us.”

“because he’s only with me for you guys and the minute he meets you, I’ll go back to being friendless and alone.” The brutal honesty took the men by surprise. You felt a small nudge at your side causing you to smile, “minus MJ of course. She’ll always be my friend.”

“damn straight.” She smiled at you as she took her last drag before snubbing it.

You met Sam’s eye with a new amount of emotion he wasn’t used to seeing. You were good at avoiding and you didn’t often get super honest. However, you did have four or five hits earlier and you might be kinda high.

“it’s hard to find genuine people when you have Stark and Rogers as your last name. People want to get with me because they want to meet you guys or get a job at SI. Now I don’t pick people based on their geuninity because it’s not there, I pick people based off what they can do for me.”

“y/n.”

“It’s selfish I know, but if they’re gonna use me might as well get something out of it. Ya know?” You sighed deeply, “his name is brad and he has an actual crush on MJ. So I think he’s not only using me to get into SI because he really wants a job there but he also wants to get closer to MJ.”

Bucky eyed you warily, “and the upside?”

You shrugged, “good kisser, better weed.”

MJ snorted as Sam groaned and dropped his head into his palm, “don’t need to hear that.”

You pulled a lazy smile, “so you don’t want me talking about his dick?”

This time Bucky groaned. “are you just never going to bring anyone home?”

You shrugged and picked at your nails, “maybe eventually. I tried to bring someone home last year. We had been dating for a few months, told Wanda about him and everything. Brought him into the lobby of the tower and he asked if he could get a job here because he knew me. I said ‘probably not’. He shrugged and walked out the door, didn’t talk to me again after that.”

Bucky frowned, “I could kill him for you.”

“MJ already offered.” Bucky gave MJ an approving smile, “he’s not worth it.”

“and this brad…?” Sam ventured carefully

“not worthy of her either.” MJ interjected smoothly, “at this point I’m just waiting for him to fuck up so I can punch him in the face.”

Bucky squinted at her, “why don’t you come over? y/n you need to bring this one home, I like her.”

“She doesn’t like superheroes. Or Dad.”

“yeah… he’s an acquired taste.” Sam said, “can I at least be an exception to the superhero thing?”

MJ tipped her head slightly, “I’ll think about it. Right now the only exceptions are Wanda, Natasha, and Clint.”

“I’m fucking Clint if that helps.”

“ew!” “gross Barnes.” “it actually does.”

There was a moment of silence between the group, and while it wasn’t awfully tense it definitely wasn’t comfortable either.

“you know they mean well.”

You exhaled loudly, “yeah I know and for the most part it isn’t them. But could you imagine if I brought home a boy who I’m literally with for drugs and sex? And then if they found out that guy was only with me because of who my family was? He would be dead in the hour.”

“more like the first 30 minutes.” Bucky snorted

“my dads need to learn to take a no as an answer. Especially about my personal life.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Sam said softly.

“thanks.” You smiled lightly at him, then you gestured at the area, “also… this? Stays between us. Everything.”

“are you kidding me? Steve would kill me if he knew I let you smoke.”

“c’mon kid let’s go back. It’s getting dark.” Bucky stood effortlessly and then extended a hand your way, pulling you to your feet. You did the same for MJ.

“I’ll see you on Monday?”

She nodded, “yeah. Thanks for the breakfast dinner, here I can take your trash.”

“thanks babe. Love you.”

“love you too, get home safe.”

You were walking between Sam and Bucky when Bucky nudged you slightly. “why did you punch peter?”

“he’s my brother and he was annoying me? Do I need any more reasons?”

Sam laughed, “guess not. But it was a pretty solid punch.”

You smiled, “He’ll heal in a few hours. Plus, I’m like the only person he trusts enough for me to do that, I gotta abuse it sometimes.”

Bucky clicked his tongue and shook his head in a mix of disappointment and humor, then he asked, “the reason peter doesn’t like brad is because he has a crush on MJ, right?”

“oh yeah.”

“knew it.”

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