#also the fact that steve is straight up giggling about another man getting up in his space? no str8 nan is reacting like that

[coldgpa]

Ok but I just wanna say Joseph Quinn's acting here... I feel like I can literally see Eddie's nervousness at interacting with steve. How he messes with his hands and keeps glancing over to gauge steves reactions.

You can literally see his character THINKING and contemplating about getting into Steve's face before he commits to it

And I just love that we see him just give a satisfied full blown smile at making steve get nervous, like he got the reaction he wanted to. Like...? This is what's happening in this scene and people still dont think eddie had some kind of a crush on steve?

#stranger things #steddie #like god this scene alone was enough to make me completely reevaluate all their other scenes together #before this scene i hadnt even considered them #and then i was like... holy shit #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #like i dont get how someone could watch this scene and not immediately think it gave gay vibes #joseph quinn was playing for romance #the guy is gay. just is #the proof is jist the goddamn show #also the fact that steve is straight up giggling about another man getting up in his space? no str8 nan is reacting like that #analysis

[ashes-writing]

stranger things ● summer of 86 pt 7 ● e. munson

warning

semi public makeout / PDA, saliva, mentions of Eddie popping a boner, so much fluff, holy shiiit. Another day and Barb/Robin are still happily gay and we're all here for it (in future chapters), Hopper / overprotective papa bear version makes an appearance, angst here and there, the older teens navigating adulthood (in the future), eventual filth, mentions of alcohol/we*d and smoking (in the future), total absence of a sci fi plot ( seasons 1 - 4 did not happen, obvs) and swearing, probably dirty jokes / dark humor ( in the future )

you/reader are female. you/reader are also the oldest byers. you/reader have a very specific look/style and personality + a smidge of a past, petnames and nicknames. this is another self indulgent thing so.. i'm not sorry at all tbh.

word count

3276 exactly. for any needed context part 6 <- can be read by clicking.

summary

“Yeah?” Eddie pauses and glances over at Gareth as he slips the black t-shirt over his head. “What?”

“She asked you first, man.” Gareth chuckles and  shakes his head. “And you’re still telling me she’s not into you.. Like, at all.” he rubs a hand over his face. He loves his friend dearly, but sometimes the guy is impossibly stubborn.

taglist + shoutouts

taglist is here <- click to be taken to it / add yourself. If you're here for Steve/Gareth and don't want to be tagged in anything for Eddie -or you want me to stop tagging, idk.. please let me know.

@allelitesmut - you are the sweetest, oh my goddd. your tags on my posts always make me so happy and I'm giggling and kicking my feet and it just makes me so glad you enjoy reading this stuff. thank you a million times.

@chaoticcancer

@caravelofthesun

@dylanwritesgood

@eddiemuns0nl0ver

@eddiemunsonspantschain - ilysm you have no idea. you're so amazing and I'm honored to have met you on here, you're the sweetest. <3

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

@tbmunson - bestie. baaabe. ilysm holy shit. i really really don't know what I'd do if I hadn't met you and you're amazing, you inspire me so much and i just need you to know that. really hope you enjoy this!

other links

masterlist ● eddie's masterlist ● about + rules

“Wait..”

“Yeah?” Eddie pauses and glances over at Gareth as he slips the black t-shirt over his head. “What?”

“She asked you first, man.” Gareth chuckles and  shakes his head. “And you’re still telling me she’s not into you.. Like, at all.” he rubs a hand over his face. He loves his friend dearly, but sometimes the guy is impossibly stubborn. Like right now, when Eddie looks him straight in the face and shrugs. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. She’s my friend.I’m telling you, she just sees me as another friend. That has to be it.”

Gareth grumbles. “You’re so oblivious it fuckin hurts. It physically pains me, man.”

Eddie turns to him. “This look alright, dude?”

“Yeah. But that’s your good shirt.”

Eddie shrugs. Balks at Gareth’s eagle eyes picking right up on the fact that he’s wearing one of his better shirts as he retorts lamely, “It’s not a date. Maybe I just wanted t’ look nice.”

“I’m telling you. One of you thinks this is a date and the other doesn’t.”

“Okay, fine, since you’re the ‘expert’ all of a sudden, man…” Eddie chuckles, and he’s actually attempting to do something with the wayward frizz that forms in his hair after it’s been washed and air drys, “Tell me what a date is.”

Gareth laughs. “Oh trust me. If I’m right and this is a date, which I know it is, you’ll figure it out pretty fast, man.”

“Okay, but like.. How?”

Gareth rubs a hand over his face. Takes a deep breath. He knows Eddie well enough to know by now that Eddie is purposely getting on his nerves. He flips Eddie off and then runs through his own personal checklist.

Eddie listens, he starts to argue several ‘points’ Gareth brings up, but Gareth gives him a silencing look that’s actually pretty intimidating for once. And at some point during the conversation, Wayne gets up and goes to start getting ready for work.

And he takes one look at Eddie and laughs. “Why do you look like a long -tailed cat in a room full of rockers right now, kid?”

Gareth smirks. “Because ___ asked him on a date. To the drive in movies.”

“She did not! She just said that there’s this horror movie she wants t’see but all her friends are babies about the stuff.”

Wayne snickers at first. And then the snickering turns into doubled over, side clenching laughter. “Son..” he shakes his head as the laughter dies away. “Nothin, kid, forget it, you’re as stubborn as I am, it’d be like talkin t’ a brick wall.” but he spritzes Eddie with just a little of his cologne anyway, making Eddie scowl and sniff his pits. “I showered, man!”

“Just trust me, kid. I’ve uh.. Been on a few dates in my time.”

“This is not a date! It’s not.”

“What time is this movie, kid?”

“10?”

Gareth and Wayne share a look and both burst into side clutching laughter all over again. “He’s so clueless, man.” Gareth wheezes out. Jeff yells Eddie’s name from the front door. Gareth calls out that they’re back in the back of the  trailer. When he tacks on that Eddie’s getting ready to go out, Jeff smirks to himself. Shakes his head as he comes into view, leaned against the hallway wall. “She asked you, huh?”

“Yeah. To go to a movie that apparently, all her friends are too scared t’ go see. As a friend.”

“Mhm.” Jeff chuckles. Glances at Gareth. “He still wants t’ be stubborn, I see.”

“He’ll be stubborn til he fuckin dies, Jeff.” Gareth answers, making Wayne nod in agreement.

–

The fifth shirt flies out into the room and settles over the footboard of your bed. And as soon as this happens, Nancy and Barb share a look. Robin laughs softly to herself and reaches out to lower the volume on your radio. “So you asked him on a date?”

“I asked him to go to a movie, Robbie.”

“You asked him to go see that horror movie with you at the drive in, __. A horror movie makes it a date instantly.” Nancy’s teasing you and you lean far enough out of the walk in closet you share with your step-sister Jane to flip her off. “No, it doesn’t. And if I’d asked him on a date, he’d have laughed his ass off and we know it. I just… Eased into this.”

“Oh.”

“Since you’re easing into things, ___.” Robin’s pushing it just a little, “Maybe when the body count starts to rise, you can ease into diving into his lap.”

“And then you can ease into kissing him senseless. So you don’t have to see the scary parts.” 

Nancy and Robin high five and Barb is doubled over laughing. “Just wear the little leopard print dress.. The tank top one?”

You lean out of the closet and raise a brow.

Max and Jane wander in.

“Is she still getting ready?” Max asks, barely hiding a laugh.

Jane flings her arms to the growing pile of clothing on your bed. “Obviously. She’s overthinking it.”

Jane walks into the closet and digs around a little. When she finds the slinky little black dress with bell sleeves, she thrusts it’s hanger at you and walks out, flopping onto her bed as Max pours some M&M’s into her hand. Max nudges her. “You found the black one, right?”

Jane nods. Max smiles and gives her friend the thumbs up. You walk out of the closet and stop in front of the mirror on your shared vanity. Biting your lip as you eye the way your wild mess of hair is yet again, refusing to cooperate. “The humidity has me out here looking like someone who stuck their finger in a light socket.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“It’s really not. Maybe with a little spray..” Barb wanders over, stopping behind you at the vanity. You sit down and rummage through the little silver tray that holds hair ties, clips and both you and your sister’s hair brushes until you find a gold barrette.

You finally resort to putting up half your hair with the barrette and you’re trying to actually do something with the curtain bangs you just had to have when you hear his motorcycle pulling into the yard.

“That can’t be him.”

Robin peeks out your bedroom window. “How sure are you about that? Because I’m looking right at him.”

Nancy’s barely hiding a laugh at this point and Jonathan peeks into the bedroom. “Ready t’ go, babe?”

She smiles and nods. Jonathan looks at you and he bursts out laughing.

“What?” you ask, “Is it the hair?”

Your brother just shrugs. You pick up a pillow from your bed and raise it as if you’re going to hit him with it. “It’s not funny, Jon! Tell me what’s funny!”

“You. You said this was just two people seeing a movie. I’m telling you, this is not that, sis.”

“He’s got flowers.” Robin’s wiggling her brows suggestively and she hurries to let the curtain fall back into place before launching herself onto the bed beside Barb. Barb waits until everyone is preoccupied and leans down, feathering a kiss against Robin’s hairline. “We should get going. Their movie starts later. If we get there now, we can get the good seats in the back of the theater.”

“I love the way you think.” Robin mumbles back. Barb clears her throat. “Take a deep breath, __.”

You breathe in and out.

“We’re going to Starcourt. To try getting tickets to the movie we were going to see.” Robin speaks up, fidgeting just a little. You pick up on it and give her a playful wink. She shrugs and then the two of them rush out too.

Max and Jane share a look when they hear Eddie knocking at the door. “We’ll go keep Hopper from trying to waterboard the guy. You..” Max says, “Finish getting ready.”

You go back to attempting to do just a little something with makeup. Which has never really been your strong suit.

And your heart is racing, all fluttery. 

You finish slicking on your favorite red lipstick and make your way out into the living room, clearing your throat. Hopper looks from you to Eddie and chuckles. “You’re in luck, Munson. Looks like she’s ready to leave.”

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You shoot Hopper a pout and he chuckles again.

Your mother is walking into the cabin from work just as you’re walking out. And she looks from you to Eddie, giving you a soft and knowing smile. “Where are you two heading?”

“The drive-in.” you answer. Your mom laughs softly. “Have fun, sweetie.”

“I’ll be in later, Mom. I have the key.”

“Okay, good.” Joyce says it before stepping into the house. She lingers in the open door for a few seconds, watching you get onto the back of Eddie Munson’s motorcycle. Hopper wanders up behind her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her back against his chest and rest his chin on her shoulders. “I dunno what t’ think about that, babe.” he mumbles.

“I have a feeling.” Joyce begins, giggling as Hopper nuzzles his nose against her neck, “Oh yeah, babe?” and Joyce sucks in a breath. “Behave, Jim!” to which he pouts. “What’s your feelin?”

“They’re going to end up together, I know it. I’m actually really confident about it.”

“Oh yeah?” Hopper chuckles. “I made pasta, woman. Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving.” Joyce answers, following Jim into the kitchen.

–

“Oh Christ!” you’re hiding your face in his neck for a fifth time, “A little warning, maybe?” you whine against his skin and he has to shift the way he’s sitting on the seat of his motorcycle. He slips his arms around you and at first, it’s awkward. Because he’s not sure if doing it is okay, he only knows that you’re apparently scared and he doesn’t like that.

“Hey. ‘S just a movie.” he mumbles as he gets you looking up at him. You laugh softly. “I know that.. I just don’t do well with jumpscares.”

“Or blood.” Eddie chuckles as he  says it and you pout at him. “Or blood.” you echo. “We don’t have t’ stay, woman.”

“ Oh no, I’m finishing the movie. I..” you go quiet. You’re starting to  realize that your insistence at choosing this exact movie was mostly due to having an excuse to touch Eddie Munson without getting over the top creative. You laugh at yourself as this sinks in.

,, okay, you think to yourself, i’m falling hard hard. That’s what this is.” and the thought’s got you in a daze so deep you don’t even realize you’re staring at him and you’re staring hard until his brows knit together and he’s chuckling, the sound dying away. The screams on the giant screen in front of where you’re parked in the middle row die away, other sounds do the same.

Your breath is hung in your throat. “Mhm?” Eddie mumbles, gripping your hips to drag you even closer on the seat of his motorcycle. He’s glad you just gave up on watching a few minutes ago, turning away from the screen entirely to lean against him and hide your eyes from the violence and gore of a grisly murder as it occurred on the  screen.

You did not mean to say it when it comes, but it comes out regardless. “I picked this stupid fucking movie to..” your words hang. And you pause, laughing at yourself as you shake your head. You reach down into the tub of popcorn you’ve been sharing and eat a mouthful as you try to decide the best way to continue because you’re just so damn tired of hiding, fighting the way you feel.

“To what, doll? C’mon, say it.” Eddie’s torn between watching the homocidal maniac on screen as he chases down another victim and torn on the way the butter’s formed a glistening film on your pretty lips. And he’s not expecting what you ultimately wind up saying when it comes, so that takes him completely by surprise.

“Okay, you asked for it.” you mutter in a softer tone. You take a deep breath and make yourself stare up at him. Growing increasingly frustrated with yourself because Will’s been telling you all summer that it’s not hard to just say what you feel. Or it shouldn’t be. And so has Jane. Even Jonathan’s told you on more than one occasion that you need to say or do something before you sky rocket to the moon under the pressure. 

“Yeah.” he snickers. But his stomach is churning and he’s going back over every single second of the night so far as if he’ll find the one thing he has to have done to make you so tense all of a sudden.

“Fuck it.” you mumble. And you’re closer to him, suddenly, so close that the sweet scent of your favorite perfume oil fills his nose and engulfs him. When your legs settle on top of his thighs and you slip your arms around his neck, he nearly chokes on the handful of popcorn he’s just taken for himself.

The realization comes crashing down on him with the velocity of a speeding car at a cement barricade. Your hand catches in his hair and you’re pulling his mouth down and straight into your own and it’s a split second that’s almost agony for Eddie Munson because he wants your mouth against his right now. He’s never been the best with patience or waiting and if he’d even stopped to think at any point that this was what everyone kept trying to tell him it was, he would’ve already gone for it a thousand times over.

He’s stunned it’s even happening but.. He’s not so stunned that instinct doesn’t kick in. It turns from you pulling his mouth down onto yours to his mouth seeking yours out. “This is happenin, huh?” he mumbles in a husky daze just as kissable lips engulf your own, smearing red lipstick around on your lips just a little.

He chuckles quietly. But the whimper when his tongue slips past your lips goes straight down, straight to his cock.

He raises his hands, one caressing the side of your face as his forehead settles in against your own. The other hand catches in long and thick hair, tangling in it. Tugging at it as if that alone will pull your mouth even deeper.

Your mouth falls open wider and your  tongue is clumsy at first, massaging his tongue. He chuckles quietly, a playful growl swallowed by the kiss when your teeth catch against his plump bottom lip and tug.

The hand on the side of your face drifts down, settles on your ass and fingers dig against black velvet fabric. “Yeah.” you breathe out at last, smiling into the kiss as colored dots line your vision for a minute or two. You come apart to breathe and he keeps his forehead resting against your forehead.

“Do you get it?” you ask with a soft laugh after a few seconds.

“You could explain it again.. Just like you did.” Eddie mutters, dragging his tongue over the outline of your mouth as his hands raise and catch against either side of your face. “Or you could just tell me, sweetheart. No reason t’ be afraid.”

You take a very shaky breath. “I picked this movie so I could be all clingy and touch you as much as I wanted without havin t’ make a clever excuse, Eddie.. Because I..” you laugh at yourself and shake your head, staring down at the way your thighs contrast the black denim covering his lower body. But he’s not going to let you look down.

He tucks ringed fingers beneath your chin, the metal adorning each one is cool against your warm skin and it feels so good that you shiver slightly. “Because you what, doll? C’mon.” he coaxes, laughing because he’s still frantically trying to grasp that just once, he wasn’t totally right about a situation.

“Because I can’t stop? Because I’ve never.. Felt this way about anybody. I..” you’re glaring at the loose corner of the patch on his vest for a second to gather yourself, gather your thoughts and try to calm down because as usual, everything about him is so overwhelming til you can’t think straight. 

“Yeah?” the word comes and it’s shaky. Huskier, the perfect mix of gravel and velvet. His heart’s about to beat right out of his chest and he’s never wanted to hear what someone’s trying to say as much as he wants to hear what you’re trying to say.

He’s just hoping against hope that everyone is actually right.

You clutch the front of his black t-shirt. Because it’s tangible and real and right now, touching him is keeping you grounded. “I think I’m in love with you. I’m kind of freaking out right now,actually.” you admit, going quiet.

And he’s floored. Gaping for a second.

“Fuck.” he mumbles it quietly. It’s not a definite and he knows this. But it is something. And he can tell you really are scared and he just knows somehow that you’re not lying when you say it. Same as him. So, he chuckles and he gets you looking up at him, a lazy grin playing at his lips. You’re nose to nose again and as he presses his mouth against yours, he mutters out quietly, “I’m not dreamin right now..”

“No?” you laugh softly. A hand raising to rest against the side of his face. “You.. Uh.. you don’t have to say anything, you don’t even have to feel the same way, I just needed to get it out. I mean that, Eddie.”

He gapes at you for a second. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head. “Here’s the thing.. I do, actually. And it’s been driving me crazy. I should’ve made th’ first move, sweetheart.”

“Eddie.” you laugh as your mouth meets his all over again. “I wanted to.” you argue.

“So did I.” he admits quietly. “I just didn’t think.. This.. was a possibility.”

“So you didn’t know I was flirting..” you laugh as you clutch at the front of his shirt again. He laughs and shakes his head. “Not a clue, doll. On Ozzy.”

“Guess I’ll just have to be more obvious.” you tease quietly and he bites back a growl because you’ve shifted in his lap and rubbed right against him and the warmth when you do it has him straining even harder against black jeans. “I’m fucked.” he mutters quietly. “Aren’t I?”

You bite your lip. Staring at his. And he takes this as an invitation, a chance to make up for astronomically misreading everything the way he has until this point. His hands settle on your sides and he pulls you into him completely so that there’s no space left. One hand slips up your side and tangles in thick hair, tugging your mouth against his own all over again. Greedy, hungry and devouring.

“Yeah.” he laughs against your lips quietly as the kiss breaks, “I am.” he answers his own rhetorical question from seconds before and you’re hot all over, a quiet whimper slipping out because of the way he’s looking at you so deep. 

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, tilting your head just a little. And doe eyes fix on your neck, staring intently. Distracted. He chuckles. “Maybe not.”

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x fem!byers reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x yn #<- my writing ● eddie munson #<- warnings | see above + kissing/PDA/saliva #fandom ( stranger things ) ● season ( post 4 - complete au with no sci-fi element ● character ( eddie munson )

[buckys-dollface]

Hello my love, happy early birthday!! I’ve got a little activity which isn’t on your list so if you don’t wanna do it just ignore this - it’s matching the character and the trope, and then provide a little explanation/drabble as to why you paired them

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Lee Bodecker and Andy Barber

Tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating and only one bed

(Thankfully my life and my mental health is allowing me to write some again. Lowkey might turn some of these into full blown stories. Let me know if I should!)

Tysm so much again my love!

Bucky Barnes and enemies to lovers

I think this is probably my favorite trope with Bucky. Because it just makes so much sense, ya know? Like imagine you are a new recruit when Bucky arrives at the compound with Steve. You know exactly who he is, how can you not with his unwavering stare and brooding personality. He puts up this façade but inside his thoughts slowly are consumed with you. With every leering glance, your essence haunted him. He sneered at it because its becoming too much. Why did you cross his mind so much? You were an annoying tag along to him and Steve. That’s all.

“God I fucking hate you, Bucky.” You sneered. You heard a brief chuckle escape his lips. “And why is that princess?”

“Because it seems you never care about what I have to say-“

“Is that so?”

“Yes!” The irration is flowing through your veins. You are finally seeking out somewhat of a straight answer from Mr. Know-It-All. You become so focused and lost in your own little world, that you don't even notice Bucky approaching you.

Coming closer and closer. His breath looming over you, making you nervous.

“Does it seem that I care what you have to say now, princess?”

Steve Rogers and fake dating

So I imagine this during the CAWS era; Steve is so tired of Nat attempting to set him up on blind dates that just didn't work out. So he comes to you and begs, pleads with you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get Nat off his back and leave him alone.

“Please. I need your help.” His tone is adorable and you can’t help but giggle at the pout in his lips.

“Fine. What are friends for right? Not like I’ll ever get the chance to actually date a superhero.”

Little did Steve know, playing pretend wouldn’t be so easy, the lines between fantasy and reality would soon be blurred and all he saw was you.

Andy Barber and only one bed

You are Andy’s assistant and both of you were tasked to go out of town for a case. As head DA, this wasn’t unusual and you were overjoyed to be able to tag along with your handsome boss.

“So, boss.” Andy’s head perked up from his phone. It always made you melt to see his eyes gleam when they looked at yours, “Yeah?”

“Looks like we have a problem.” His eyebrows raised in anticipation as he slipped his phone back in his back pocket.

“Our suite only has one bed.” You informed his as you waved two card keys to unlock your room.

“Oh-” Oh.

“Yeah.” The eye contact between the two of you was slowly becoming overbearing. You gulped harshly as your palms started to sweat.

“I can tell the receptionist to move us if need be. You suggested as you lead the way to the wooden receptionist desk to request a new room. You admired you boss. More than admired him, you perhaps even had a budding crush on your handsome dark haired boss.

“You could," He began. "Or we can handle this like adults." His voice intoxicated you. You could breath him in and soak in his cologne.

"And what would that mean, Mr. Barber?"

He grasped your hand and didn't spoke another word as he lead you both to your suite. As his key swiped and lit the scanner green, you took note of the king bed. The bed you would soon be sharing with you boss.

"I might want some company. That bed is quite big. You don't want me to get lonesome, do you sweetheart?"

Lee Bodecker and forced promoxity

Sheriff Lee Bodecker is a man known for gathering to the truth. He takes meticulous pride in this fact. He also take wonder and absolute frustration how he can't get his mind off you. You. The town whore.

"Damn Bodecker, so this is what you do to get off, huh?" You asked, a chuckle hummed underneath your words. The handcuffs hugged your wrists almost too tightly. Nothing you weren't used too though.

"Shut the fuck up." He sneered at your amusement. His dead eyes focused solely on the road.

"What? Am I right, aren't I? You like locking up pretty ladies like me. It gives your tiny ego and dick a power trip. Ain't that right, Sheriff?"

Lee was silent.

Deafly so, it almost seems as if he is unphased. Though, Lee is doing everything in his power to fight back the erection in his pants as his eyes narrowed towards the outline of the station. You both could hear the gravel rock underneath the tires as it began to batter them.

As badly as you want to tease him more, you decided to surrender. It was fun to watch the Sheriff squirm. You could see him slowly dissolve under his seemingly striking presence.

In a faint echo, you could hear the car door yank open. You felt the cold gust your skin as your eyes peered up at his dark gaze.

"So what are you going to punish me?" You jested. Lee continued to push you forward towards the entrance of the station. Not another soul was there but you did notice the flickering on the iridescent bulbs. Your breath started to become uneven.

"Aww be honest Lee, is your wife not treating you nice? Giving you what you need?" A huff was audible from his lips and as he reached the inside of your cell, he locked the inside of the cell with both of you in it.

What in the hell

Your eyes widen at this act as he reached you again and forced you on your knees. A sinister smirk graced his lips as his hat casted a dark shadow over his face.

"You are right. You have been very bad, darlin'. So filthy in fact, I thought I would let my cock teach ya a lesson ya wouldn't forget."

#ask tay 💕 #bucky barnes #lee bodecker #steve rogers #andy barber #em 💚

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the story of a first date”

first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)

© @capsgrantrogers

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.

author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.

“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.

“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.

“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.

“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.

“And shoes, I guess”.

Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”

“About the shoe—”

“About the clothes”.

“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”

“I’m from Brookl—”.

“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.

Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.

Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.

The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.

“Hey, you”.

His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.

“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.

“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.

“Yeah, very funny…”

“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.

“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.

“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.

“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”

As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.

“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.

“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”

“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.

“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.

“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.

“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.

“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.

“What have you thought?”

“Uh?”

“About the date”.

“Sam told me about a rest—”.

“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.

“Sorry, did I…?”

You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.

“Where do you wanna go?”

The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.

“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.

You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.

“Sounds good to me”.

“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.

“Really”.

The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.

As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.

Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.

“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.

“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.

“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.

“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.

For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.

“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”

“I know”.

Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.

“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.

“Why?”

“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.

“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.

“I put the milk before cereals”.

“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.

“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.

“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”

“Lettuce kills the savor!”

“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.

“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.

“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.

“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.

“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.

“So was I”.

A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.

You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.

“Why?”

“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.

Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.

“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.

You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.

“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.

“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.

“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.

You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.

“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.

You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.

“Next will be better, I promise”.

“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.

“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.

How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.

“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.

His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.

“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.

His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.

Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.

“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.

“See you tomorrow”.

At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.

“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.

You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?

“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.

“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.

“No kiss for me, soldier?”

“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.

“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.

“White wo—”.

“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.

“Hope you show me one day what it means…”

“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.

“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x you

[mandowh0re]

Pining

Summary: Wanda has had enough of the pining between you and Bucky, and when she accidently reads your thoughts while you're imagining him... You know... She decides to end everyone's suffering and do something about it.

A/N: I made a comment on this tik tok, and everyone actually wanted me to write it. So here you go, I guess? I hope this lived up to everyone's expectations. I also left out the use of Y/N so I’m sorry if that turns you off.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut, oral (female receiving).

Word Count: 3237

This meeting is incredibly boring.

It was literally just Steve reviewing how the fight yesterday went. What the team did right and wrong and how they could improve. It was common to have these meetings after missions and fights. It was to be expected.

But you were not paying attention. You tried, boy did you try. But every time you caught Bucky in your peripherals your brain just short circuited. Especially when he flexed his vibranium arm.

Now that just wasn’t fair.

You’ve been harboring a crush on the ex-assassin for the past year. Steve had brought him back from Wakanda after his HYDRA programming had been removed and he had successfully undergone enough therapy that he could be moved to the Avengers Compound.

He didn’t immediately jump into missions though. In fact, he had only started going on low priority ones about four months ago, progressing into larger ones as time went on.

Nobody knew about your crush. At least, you didn’t think anyone knew. It was stupid. He was still recovering from a life full of trauma, he didn’t need you and your own traumas added into the mix. And it wasn’t hard to keep your feelings at bay at first.

When the crush first developed, it was purely physical. Bucky was and is, gorgeous and edgy and all you wanted was for him to fuck you into your mattress. Or his. Or the wall. You didn’t care. And you could easily fix your neediness yourself. You had a small basket of toys you kept hidden in your closet for times like this.

So you did. You pleasures yourself many nights, imaging it was him in between your legs.

But then you got to know him. It took a while. He only trusted Steve, and Sam to an extent. But many times you found yourself in the common areas with him late at night when neither of you could sleep. It was only acknowledging each other’s presence at first, you making hot chocolate and him drinking his iced water. Then you began making one sided conversations just to fill the silence, also making him a mug of your favorite hot beverage too.

After about a week and a half of you talking about nonsense, carrying conversations by yourself, Bucky slowly began participating; first with small verbal acknowledgments, then to adding his own thoughts, then asking his own questions and bringing up his own topics.

Now, it seemed that you were both synced up in your insomniatic episodes. The both of you would meet in the common room late at night, and whoever was there first made the hot chocolate. The two of you would sit side by side on the large cushy couch and talk about everything and nothing.

So yeah. At first the crush was purely physical. Until it wasn’t.

Yesterday during the mission, you and Bucky had split off to attack the small HYDRA base from a different side. Most of the fight was supposed to be brought out back, a small explosion made by Rhodey to distract the guards and force them outside.

But it seemed like they had anticipated that, and a group of twenty guards stormed towards you and Bucky. You hadn’t even seen them coming at first, you were focused on fixing a loose zipper on your jacket.

But Bucky did.

He wrapped his vibranium arm around you and pulled you back, spinning the both of you around a corner and slamming you into a wall, right as gunshots began ringing out.

For half a moment, you and Bucky stared at each other. You were pressed against the wall, his arm pressed against your collarbone, his body mere millimeters from yours. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath fanning across on your face. The two of you were locked onto the other’s eyes. But then it was over.

You called for backup as the two of you began fighting your way through the hoard of HYDRA soldiers.

It’s all you’ve been able to think about since the adrenaline of the fight wore off. The way Bucky looked at you. Held you. How close he was…

You’d give anything for him to choke you against a wall and fuck you senseless, and then cuddle you into the next morning.

Suddenly there’s a choked noise, and you look over to see Wanda staring at you.

You cock an eyebrow, unsure what you could have done to cause that reaction. But then you see it. The tiniest bit of red glowing behind her eyes.

Oh shit.

“Wanda, darling. Are you alright?” Vision asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She nods, peeling her eyes from yours to look at Vision and smile. You wonder how her head isn’t flying off at the speed at which she’s nodding.

The meeting concludes soon after that, and you know you’re in for it.

You walk to your room, not even shutting the door because you hear Wanda trailing only a few paces behind you.

“Can you not keep your thoughts even a little quiet?” She asks, clinging to her self control to keep from bursting into laughter.

“I didn’t realize you were even listening!” You retort, hands flying into the air, “Why were you listening in the first place? Isn’t that… I don’t know… A little rude?” You giggle. You had to admit, the situation was pretty funny, albeit embarrassing.

“You were complaining blanked out. I was worried you were having another panic attack. I wanted to check before I interrupted the meeting to help,” She flops on your bed, “This is getting out of hand. Hearing both you and Bucky pining for each other without doing anything about it is exhausting. Will you two just get it over with already?”

“He doesn’t need the added stress and trauma right now. He’s still adjusting and recovering.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, “He will always be adjusting and recovering. How do you know being with you isn’t something that would actually do him good?”

You break eye contact and instead move your gaze to the purple cat squishmallow that Bucky got you for your birthday last month.

“I, uh. I’m not good with gifts. But you mentioned you like purple. And… Cats. I’m sorry, it’s stupid-“

You can’t help the ginormous smile that spreads across your face. Bucky was beginning to get flustered, his face turning pink and his nose scrunching up in that cute way it does when he gets nervous.

You take the large stuffed animal from him and hug it right to your chest.

“I love it, Buck. I think it’s my favorite gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?”

You nod, and step closer to pull him into a hug, the purple cat squished between you. When you pull away, you kiss his cheek.

“Really. Thank you.”

You ended up naming the cat Mochi, after the cat in Big Hero 6.

You sigh, “I don’t know. I just… What if he realizes I’m too much to handle? Most men on earth are afraid of me.”

You think back to your childhood, when none of the other kids would play with you. How most people look at you when you’re out for a run.

“They’re afraid of me too, but not Vision.”

You scoff, “Vision has an infinity stone and you literally are part of each other. Of course he’s not scared of you.”

Wanda groans and stands from her place on your bed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of your room and down the hall.

“Where are we going?” You ask, letting her lead you.

She doesn’t answer, but soon you’re in front of Bucky’s room. She pounds on the door and before you can realize what’s happening, the door is open.

Wanda shoves her way past the larger man, hauling you with her.

“Okay, this is getting out of hand,” She says, pulling you next to her, “This pining is getting out of control. I’m locking the both of you in here until you break this tension and admit your feelings to each other.” She let’s go of your hand and marches out, her red magic encasing the door and shutting it, the lock turning. As if that had any effect over the hex.

It’s painfully silent. Neither you or Bucky can look each other in the eye. Finally, you decide to bite the bullet and break the silence.

“Um, I’m sorry about that. I’ll just-“ You go to move past him, arm reaching for the door. You’re not sure what you’re going to do because Wanda has the door sealed…

But there’s suddenly a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, making you turn to the object of your affection.

“Please, don’t go.”

It’s quiet again, but it’s different this time.

He steps closer, his flash hand moving to your waist. Your eyes are glued to his, and you gently grab his vibranium hand and bring it to your cheek, kissing his palm. He looks scared.

The two of you stay like that for a while, unsure what to do next and who is going to take that last step; crossing that line both of you were terrified to even teeter on.

“I-“ He starts, but you interrupt him.

“Just kiss me, James.”

And it’s like you flipped a switch. His lips were suddenly crushed to yours, fighting for dominance and winning. He licks your lower lip, coaxing your mouth open. You comply immediately, letting his tongue slide in and explore every inch of your mouth.

He reaches down and grabs your thighs, lifting you against him and nearly slamming you into the wall, pushing against you so that his body is holding you up. He grabs your shirt, ripping it from your body and tossing it to the ground. A growl rips from his chest and he palms your breasts before dipping his head to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingers.

The sensation goes straight to your clit and you buck your hips into his, looking for the friction you desperately needed.

He let’s go of your nipple with a wet pop and grunts, “Fuck, doll. If you keep doing that I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

You’re a panting mess at this point, grasping his biceps for dear life.

“I don’t want you to,” You tell him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky’s pupils blow impossible wider. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes, one akin to a predator looking at prey. And it makes your cunt throb with need.

He kisses down your neck and shoulders, biting and sucking bruises every few inches. When he sucks as your pulse point, you can’t help the loud moan that escapes your lips.

Bucky smirks against your skin, and decides that he has to hear that sound again.

He grabs onto your ass and turns, tossing you onto his bed. He quickly removes his shirt and pants, while you remove your own pants. You thank the gods that you chose to wear cute panties today.

Bucky pulls himself on top of you, kissing from your collarbone to your waist, before he hooks a metal digit in the waistband of your lacy black panties.

“I like these,” He says, playing with the hem before pulling and ripping them off of your body.

You gasp at the sudden sensation, “I thought you liked them!”

“They were in the way.”

He keeps his eyes on yours as you nod, and he slowly nudges your legs open, kneeling down so he’s almost eye level with your soaked pussy.

“Even prettier than I could have imagined.” He coos, his cock straining against his boxers, “So fucking wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you.”

He kisses his way down your inner thigh, making his way to your core.

Your hands are on either side of your head when you feel him lick a thick stripe through your folds, and you immediately grab the sheets for purchase.

You gasp, “Fuck!”

Spurred on by your reaction, Bucky licks another stripe before spreading you even further and licking small circles around your clit. Your hips buck onto his tongue and your hands find his hair again.

“Oh my gods, Bucky.”

He smiles as he sucks the bundle of nerves in between his lips, holding your hips down to the mattress with his hands.

It’s almost too much, you haven’t been touched by another person in over a year. Only yourself and your toys. But, fuck, nothing has ever felt the way this man’s mouth does.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take much more, he plunges two thick fingers into your pussy, pulling out a string of loud curses.

You thank your lucky stars that these rooms are soundproof, and that the glow of Wanda’s hex is now gone from the door.

Bucky adds a third finger, causing a loud moan to erupt from your chest, and continues to pump his digits inside of you.

He feels your walls begin to flutter, and your moans are picking up speed and volume.

He curls his fingers just so, hitting the spongy patch inside of you that makes you see stars.

Keeping his fingers in place, Bucky feels you clamp and flutter around them, and watches as your body seizes in pleasure. Once you’ve finished riding out your high, he takes his digits from you and puts them in his mouth, sucking your juices from them.

“So sweet, too.”

Your chest is still heaving, and you watch as he removes his boxers before he climbs over top of you, moving your legs to either side of him.

Your eyes fall to his cock, and your mouth begins watering at the sight. You figured he’d be big. Ya know, being physically enhanced and all.

But he’s huge.

He catches you staring and smirks, pumping himself and spreading his precum to slick himself.

When he leans overtop of you, he pulls you into a desperate kiss before leaning away and asking, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yes. Please, Bucky.”

He nods and kisses you again, adjusting himself and teasing your clit with his engorged head, making you bite his lower lip.

He growls, moving so he’s whispering in your ear.

“Don’t play games if you can’t take the punishment, doll.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, as if to challenge him.

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t fuck me right this instant-“

He cuts you off, slamming himself into you, making you scream.

He stops when he bottoms out, afraid that your scream was out of pain.

“You okay?” He asks, wiping a small tear that escaped your closed lids.

You nod, “Yeah, just move slowly.”

He nods and begins to slowly pull out, before sheathing himself inside your cunt again. It’s almost painful for him to move so slow, and he’s clinging to every shred of self control that he has to keep from absolutely destroying your pretty pussy right then and there.

After several slow thrusts, your eyes flutter open and your body begins to relax.

“Faster.” You breathe.

He nods and begins quickening his pace, watching you for any signs of discomfort. He grabs one of your legs and pulls it over his shoulder, letting him reach deeper inside of you than before.

The moans from your lips are sinful, and the squelching from your soaked cunt would be embarrassing if you weren’t so fucking high off his cock ramming into you.

There’s low curses and groans ripping from Bucky’s mouth, and you can feel how wet the sounds continue to make you.

“Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby. So right around me, taking my cock so well,” He growls as he continues fucking you into his bed, his balls smaking your ass with each thrust, “This pussy belongs to me. Got it?”

You don’t answer, and he wraps his vibranium hand around your throat.

“Answer me.”

You nod, but it’s not good enough for him and his fingers squeeze against your flesh.

“Use your words.”

“Yes… This is your pussy.”

He feels your walls tighten around him.

“You like that?” He asks, smacking your ass and earning a yelp and another clench of your pussy on his cock, “You like when I fuck this pretty pussy and claim you as mine?” He adds another squeeze of your throat, “You like when I choke this pretty throat?”

“Yes!” You nearly scream, the sensations causing the coil in your tummy to tighten once more, “F-Fuck, yes Bucky.”

Bucky moves his hand from your throat to your breast, kneading and rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger before moving to give the other one the same attention.

He’s so close, and all he needs is you to clamp around him to push him over the edge.

He moves the hand holding your hips to your pussy and presses harshly on your clit.

That’s all you needed for the coil to snap.

You scream, loud, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you paint his balls and legs in your cum.

His own hips stutter, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he paints your walls in white.

His movements slow to a stop as you both finish riding out your orgasms, and he carefully removes your leg from his shoulder before he collapses next to you, pulling you into his chest.

You both lay there, listening to each other calm down, the only sounds in the room being your erratic breathing.

When the two of you have finally caught your collective breaths, you giggle.

“I guess it was about time.”

He chuckles and kisses your forehead, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “Yeah I think I do.”

***

That evening, you sneak back to your room to change into pajamas and grab Mochi. The team was having movie night, and you didn’t really want to sport the now ripped outfit you had on before Bucky essentially destroyed you.

You slip on some black sweatpants and a purple tank top, grab Mochi, and walk to the common room.

You sit next to Bucky, which was common for movie night, so you’re not sure why everyone is staring at you.

“The fuck are you losers looking at?” You ask.

Sam begins to snicker.

“Hon,” Tony says as he leans forward in his seat with a giggly Peter, “Did you look in a mirror?”

“What?” You look around and your eyes land in Bucky, who looks flushed and annoyed at the same time.

“I think I… May have…”

“You’re covered in hickies, dude.” Peter says before bursting into laughter, Sam and Clint following suit.

Your eyes blow wide and before you can do anything about it, Steve hands you his hoodie.

You take it from him graciously, bless him, and quickly cover yourself.

“Okay, everyone. Most of us are adults here, excluding the three laughing stooges,” Natasha says, causing an outburst of cries from the three mentioned team members, “Now if I remember correctly, Sam, Clint, and Tony, you owe Wanda and I twenty bucks each.”

“Oh, fuck!” Clint yells.

“Hey, there’s a kid here.” Tony chides.

“I’m not the one showing off hickies!”

Same interjects, “Wanda definitely cheated, I’m not paying you shit!”

***

Permanent Taglist: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella @just-the-daydreamer @hufflely-puffly

Bucky tag list: @tranquility-or-chaos @hufflely-puffly

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter solider #the winter soldier x you #the winder soldier x reader #the winder soldier x y/n #marvel #mcu #reader insert #no use of y/n #smut #18+ #toni writes #pining

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Teaching Me How To Move On

(A SamBucky tickle fic :3)

@tickleebug requested some Sam and Bucky, so I went a little wild with it and made a short story to show how Bucky is adapting to his new life, and his new partner. Spoilers for Endgame/TFATWS btw!

“Buhucky! Cut it out!” Steve snorted, swatting at the younger’s arm as he lightly dug into his sides.

Before he’d taken the serum, it had been a well-known fact that Steve Rogers was probably one of the most ticklish guys in Brooklyn. Sure, he hated to admit it in public, and Bucky respected that, but when he and Bucky were hanging out at home? All bets were off.

So James Buchanan Barnes took every opportunity like this to tease the other about his sensitivity, sitting beside him and carefully scratching at all the spots he knew would make the other squeal. He never took it overboard, considering Steve’s fragile state, but he did tire the other out enough that he would be sure the smaller wouldn’t get revenge.

“Come on Stevie, there’s no way you’re gonna make the army if you can’t handle a little tickling,” he smirked at the other.

Steve gave an snort, slapping a hand to his face before shaking his head rapidly, “This is just tohorture!!”

“Mhm. And?” Bucky snickered as he trailed his hands up to Steve’s stomach, relishing in the deeper laughter that it gave him.

This certain brand of “torture” continued for a few minutes, interspersed with cruel teases and barely-masked flirting that the ever-oblivious Rogers seemed to let fly over his head. Though it was easy to tell Steve wasn’t trying very hard to escape the other’s grasp, especially considering how lightly Buck was holding him down in fear of injury. He could stop any time he wanted, really.

Bucky finally let up once the wheezing started, almost immediately leaving the room only to reappear with a cup of water. He couldn’t help the smug grin on his face as the other struggled to hide his deep blush. The moment was perfect.

Too perfect.

He would wait another day to tell him about his draft card. He didn’t want to ruin what they had just yet.

~

Years.

Years had gone by since that day- decades, even. He had gone for most of that time without Steve, without those affectionate touches and softness, and without love. He’d gone for even longer now that Steve was....

No, he didn’t like to think about the past few months. About how the very man he’d grown up with, who’d told him he’d be with him to the end of the line, got off early. -He couldn’t be angry with him, though. It was his life, after all. His choice. Steve would probably be better off with Peggy, anyways.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell, and that he was absolutely starved for affection with no one in the world to fix it for him.

Well... almost no one.

Admittedly, he’d grown closer to Sam in the time since the new Cap was gifted the shield. Despite his reservations, and the rocky start to their partnership, they’d come to an understanding. Especially after all they’d been through in their mission to stop Karli, and then Walker thereafter.

And there was the boat, of course. Bucky hadn’t even known Sam had a boat before this week- never even been near one besides during war times. Yet he found himself spending hours and even days of his time on helping him fix it. Then the days after that teaching the new Captain to toss the shield.

Was this what having a friend was like?

He couldn’t tell. I mean, after Steve, nothing was going to feel just right. ...Or so he thought.

See, even if Bucky had tried to deny it, Sam felt safe. He felt like Steve did. They shared that same big heart Bucky had always admired, and honestly, the shield couldn’t have found a better wielder. But on the other hand, Sam was also more honest, and more direct. That was something he needed after all those years of manipulation and self-pity. Not exactly tough love, but the truth. A kinder, softer truth.

“Hey! Buck!” Sam had called from the other side of the open field, between a few lone trees that were wrapped in foam.

Bucky looked up, torn from his deep thoughts about friendship and Captains and shields. He didn’t give away any of it through his glance, much better at hiding behind an emotionless mask these days.

“Are you gonna throw it back or what? -The shield, I mean.” the figure laughed.

James rolled his eyes and walked over, trying to play it off, “Your stance is off. You’re gonna get someone killed if you don’t have enough balance.”

“Balance my ass,” Sam scoffed jokingly as he took the shield back from the other, looking him over suspiciously, “...You’re just deflecting again. You’ve been spacing out like crazy today... did something happen?”

Ah, there was that signature therapist-like concern that Wilson managed to worm into every conversation. It made Bucky’s heart beat faster and his stomach flip and he hated it. No one had been this worried about him since he came back from the icy abyss of HYDRA’s control. No one else had checked up on him so consistently for no other gain than his continued wellbeing.

“I’m fine.” He shot back despite himself, half of a glare on his face as he turned away to go back to his spot.

Sam rolled his eyes at the other’s dramatics, at this point being readily used to the cold demeanor Bucky used to push aside his own feelings. But he wasn’t ready to let it slide this time around. So he stepped towards him after setting aside the vibranium shield, reaching out to stop him from walking away again.

Quite a few things happened after that, one after the other.

For one, Sam had underestimated how quickly Bucky could power-walk away from him, and ended up grazing his side with a small grabbing motion rather than taking him by the wrist.

From there, Bucky had faltered in his pace with a quick giggle, before looking back at the other with a somewhat horrified expression. Oh no.

It was painfully obvious to Sam now, by Buck’s initial reaction and the way he seemed just about ready to jump out of his skin.

“There is no way in hell....”

“Sam, you don’t want to do this-”

“You’re ticklish?!”

Bucky cringed, almost immediately blushing just as Steve had whenever he’d done the same to him back in Brooklyn. Karma may have been delayed for almost a century, but it sure did come back to bite him. Figures as much, right?

Bucky had started walking backwards away from the now-very-menacing falcon, though with the woods around them, his ankle caught on a rock and sent him flying back onto his butt. Figures even more.

Before he could up and scramble away, probably going to rush to Sarah and beg for protection, Sam had pounced. The super soldier found himself being straddled, which didn’t help his confusing feelings from before at all. He hands ended up under Sam’s knees, and even if he knew he could probably escape, he was concerned he’d end up hurting the other if he lost control of his own strength.

“Sam! Get off!” He said in a shockingly squeaky shout, obviously flustered.

“Nu-uh. I need to see this for myself.” Sam snickered, making the other look away as his blush deepened.

“You su-AHAHUCK-“

Before Bucky could articulate what would have totally been a coherent and witty response, Sam had taken the initiative and dug straight into the dip of his sides. There was an explosion of sunny and bubbly laughter that didn’t suit the awkward Soldier at all, making Sam beam down at the other.

Bucky internally cursed as he looked up and caught glimpse of the smile. He was too perfect- it was unfair!

Sam chuckled as he lightened up, tracing circles around his hips and making Bucky jerk back and forth with a few left over giggles, “Wowwww... It’s worse than I thought.”

“Shut the hell uhuhup...” Bucky muttered in embarrassment, making Wilson roll his eyes.

Sam knew he could definitely find a worse spot, and ignoring Bucky’s continued insults and thinly-veiled threats, he scanned the other’s upper body as thought to himself.

His metal arm probably couldn’t feel anything, right? But what about the spot just where the two met...?

Bucky noticed where his partner’s gaze had fallen, suddenly looking alarmed as he turned to begging, “Hey, wait, hold on, that’s a bad idea, Wilson. -Agh- Please? Is that what you want? Fine! I’m saying please-“

Sam just shook his head with that stupid, handsome smirk on his face, “Saying please isn’t gonna save you this time around. Tell me what’s wrong.... and I won’t absolutely wreck you. And trust me, I have an older sister. I know exactly how to do it.”

Bucky went quite besides his quick breathes and squirmy giggles, looking off to the side as he tried to consider his options despite the continued teasing of his sides and hips. But no- he couldn’t say what was really on his mind. Stubborn is as stubborn does.

“Do your worst.”

There was only a moment of reprieve as Wilson took in the other’s bratty reply, before he wiggled his fingers into that horrible dip between Buck’s metal arm and his ribs, right in the hollow. His other hand went to the rest of his rib cage just as quickly, alternating between both sides and dipping in between the spaces for added torture.

Bucky was pretty much lost in a handful of seconds.

He cackled, kicking his legs and pulling at his arms with only a shred of resistance from the last part of him that was conscious, which was still bent on making sure he didn’t hurt Sam.

But, that part of him could only hold out for so long, and when Sam found an extra sensitive spot between his ribs, Bucky ended up arching so suddenly that Sam was sent a good five feet away by his super strength.

Whoops.

There was a long pause as the air around them stilled once more, Sam laying feet away and laughing hysterically at his friend’s reaction while Bucky himself calmed himself down to a frenzy of frantic giggling.

After he was able to regain control of himself, he sat up to look over at Sam, his arms wrapped around his own torso protectively so the falcon could no longer access his weak spot. His voice was hoarse as he asked sheepishly, “...Are you ok?”

Sam’s own laughter died down, and he waved his hand dismissively, “Fine, fine. I shoulda expected it. You’re a hyper-ticklish super soldier. I’m just lucky you didn’t break my arm.“

Bucky didn’t find much humor in that joke, but he got up and made his way over to the other anyway. He held out his hand to help him stand beside him, and Wilson smiled softly at the other’s still reddened face, “Maybe we should do that more often. You’re cute when you’re blushing like that.”

And he walked away.

Bucky, for better or worse, didn’t have the same luxury that his old partner did of obliviousness to such direct declarations of affection, so he simply stood in shock as he was left in the small field of grass.

...Maybe, just maybe, his new life wasn’t as empty and lonely as he’d previously thought. Maybe Sam... could be what he really needed, as a partner, and as a friend.

Or.... maybe something more.

Lots of maybes today. But then again, when is anything ever certain?

#lee!bucky #ler!sam #marvel tickle fic #tickle fic #mcu tickle #marvel tickling

[marvelsimp]

The New Kid: Arriving

Ch. 2

The New Kid Masterlist

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh) , Avengers & Reader Warnings: General angst, swearing, Description: It’s the reader’s birthday so Peter takes her to Avenger’s Tower and there are a few surprises along the way. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 3,073

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” Peter said smiling.

“Come on its my birthday, you gotta tell me,” you whined.

“Don’t worry it’ll be fun but first, donuts.” He opened the door to a donut shop that you were just about to walk past.  You grinned; donuts were definitely one of your favorite things for breakfast.  Peter quickly went up to the counter and ordered two chocolate donuts for himself and then your two favorites. 

“How’d you know my order? We’ve never gotten donuts together,” you said while sitting down at a table.

He looked at you a little offended.  “Y/n, we’ve known each other for almost a year know.  And you talk about food, especially breakfast food way, too, much.”

‘Fair enough,” you scoffed.  

You and Peter sat there eating for maybe fifteen minutes when Peter suddenly got up, “Looks like our ride is here.”

You looked out and there was a black car that had just pulled up.  You shot Peter a confused look but decided asking questions would get you nowhere.  So, you followed him out and got in the car door he opened for you.

“Happy, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Happy,” Peter said while getting into the car himself.

You waved and smiled at Happy, he nodded and then started driving.  “So, umm,” you weren’t quite sure where you were going with that much less where you were going at all. 

“Y/n, calm down,” he teased. “I wouldn’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with, especially on your birthday.”

You let out a sigh.  The rest of the car trip there wasn’t much talking, you just looked out the window and took in the city that was becoming your new home. When you finally arrived you had no clue where you were until you got out of the car and looked up.  Your eyes grew wide in surprise and excitement.  “What the hell, Parker?” You exclaimed while slapping Peter’s arm.  

“Surprise,” he grinned.  

You were at Avengers Tower; you’d always wanted to go since if first opened after the attack on New York.  The first two floors were open to the public but the rest of the floors were for the Avengers, it was very rare for anyone else to be allowed to enter.  

Peter just smiled interlocking your arms together and walked you into the building.  Over the next two hours you walked from one station to another.  Some were a bit more historic and just listed facts about important Avenger events.  Some were video games or short documentaries about each individual avenger, or at least most of them.  Your favorite one was the VR game where you got to play as an Avenger, you chose Captain Marvel while Peter chose Ironman.

When you had seemingly finished, you were a little sad but Peter quickly lifted you spirts, “Don’t worry I have another surprise.” 

You could feel the excitement absolutely radiate off of him, you were pretty sure that even if you didn’t have powers that you’d still feel it.  Peter grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the building. He led you the back of the building to a garage like area and then to an elevator.  You quickly caught on. He was taking you to the upper levels, the Avengers Levels.  

“Peter, your n-“

“Friday, I have a guest.  Let Mr. Stark know that we’re here.”

“Yes, Mr. Parker he is already aware.  Would you like me to send you straight up to him?”

“Yes, please,” he said while stepping onto the elevator, dragging you along.

“Peter, are you introducing me to THE Tony Stark?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah,” he perked up, “Friday, this is Y/n Y/l/n. Y/n, this is Friday.”

“Hello, Miss Y/l/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s, um, nice to meet you, too,” you say looking at the ceiling. 

“She’s Mr. Stark’s AI for the building.  She’s also in his suits,” Peter explained.

“Like Karen?”

“Like Karen.”

You were anxious to say the least.  You were in Avengers tower and about to meet TONY STARK.  You collected yourself as the elevator rose, taking in a few breaths.  “You could’ve warned me.” 

“Surprising you is more fun.”

You rolled your eyes, “My own best friend keeping such a big secret from me!”

“Hmm, like you haven’t kept anything from me.”

“That’s different!”

You both had big smiles on your faces as the elevator doors opened and there they were the Avengers.  Your face dropped, “Holy fuck!”  You said that a lot louder than you meant, your hands covered your mouth, as the Avengers turned their heads to look at you.  You quickly slid over in the elevator to be out of their lines of view as you could hear a few snickers.  You turned to Peter slapping his arm a few times. “You asshole!” you whispered angrily. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” he laughed. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, though!”

“Peter! Those are the Avengers! Why are you laughing?!?!”

“Come on, Y/n. They’ll love you and I’m not the one who just screamed ‘fuck,’” he whispered in your ear. 

You muttered trying to figure out what to say.  You sighed at the stupid boy in front of you then you took a deep breath in. “Fine.  Oh my god.”  

You shook off your anxiety and when you were ready you gave Peter a light shove, making him lead the way.  The room, or what ever it was, was huge.  The main section, or where the Avengers were, was elevated from where the elevator was so you had to look up at them. It was to say the least intimidating, but they all seemed to just be hanging out on the couches that were on the platform.

You looked to the left, right over Peter’s shoulder, and there he was Tony Fucking Stark.  Right behind him were Steve Rodgers and Bucky Barnes who were talking between themselves.  Close behind them was the Falcon, you only didn’t know his name because the public didn’t know his name.  Some of the Avengers were like that, their true names weren’t know so the media used other names, such as Falcon, Spider-Man, Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye and a few more.  You had stopped walking and there he was, your mind was running at light speed while your mouth hadn’t even started walking yet.  

“Y/n, this is Mr. Stark.  Mr. Stark, this is Y/n!” said Peter who was once again beaming with excitement.

“Tony, please,” Mr. Sta-Tony corrected.  “I can never convince him to call me that.”

You turned your head to seen Peter’s face go a little red, causing you to chuckle. You turned back to Tony, you were amazed… more like in shock.  “I-It’s an honor to meet you.” You felt like you should bow or something, they were like royalty to you but you resisted the urge.  “And yeah Peter’s likes that, an idiot. Umm, I can’t believe I’m meeting you, cause someone decided not to tell me.” Tony smirked at your response. “I’d love to ask you about your suits, they are absolutely amazing!  Especially the nano technology its incredible.”  

“We can talk about that later, kid. But for now, you gotta meet the rest of the crew.” With that he walked away, back to the platform with the couches.

“You’re trying to kill me, Parker,” you whispered in your best friend’s ear as the three men who had been behind Tony approached.

You were freaking out all over again.  Three more Avengers, you were meeting Avengers.  

“Steve,” the blond man reached his hand out.

“Y/n,” you said reaching to shake Captain America’s hand.  “And you’re, uh,  Bucky.” He just nodded in return. You turned to the other man, you scrunched your face saying a sort of sorry.  

The man just stepped forward, barley bumping into Bucky, “Sam.”

“What the hell was that for?” Bucky growled, clearly angry that Sam had touched him.

“Language,” said Steve who looked like he was dealing with two toddlers.

“Don’t ‘language’ me,” he turned back to Steve.  “She just said a way worse word than that, not even five minutes ago!” he said pointing his finger at you. You gritted you teeth and turned your head a little in shame.

Steve scoffed at Bucky then turned back to you.  “Nice to meet you, doll,” he says grabbing Bucky’s metal arm dragging him and Sam away from you and Peter. 

That whole interaction through you off.  “That was-“

“Weird?”

“Yeah, this one hundred percent makes me feel like I’m in a fanfic,” you say trying to ease your anxieties.

He just blushes.

“Come on I’m not even talking about sm-” 

“Ahem,” a brunette woman coughs to get your attention. You look over and there are the Scarlet Witch and Natasha Romanoff. You blush, both of them are a lot prettier in person and they caught you in the middle of a weird sentence.  “I’m Wanda,” she says with a kind smile.  The rest of the Avengers seemed excited or at least a little happy and she was but you could also feel her mourning.  A type of mourning she was hiding away, trying to ignore, wouldn’t accept.  You understood that kind of mourning.

“And I’m Nat. Oh, and you might want to watch out.”

Suddenly you were grabbed from behind and picked up. “Lady Y/n,” said the thundering voice, “It is an honor to meet you.” 

You got the wind knocked out of you but you eventually let out a big long laugh. You turned your head and as you had suspected it was Thor.  “It’s nice to meet you too,” you giggled. 

“How about you let her down now?” instructed it calm voice behind you.  With that Thor set you gently on the ground. “I’m Bruce,” stated the man stepping around the god to see you.

Your eyes widen, you have Dr. Bruce Banner in front of you. You were going to ask about his PhDs or something along those lines, but you were interrupted by Friday.

“I would like to inform everyone that lunch is now ready.”

Everyone made their way to a large table. You clutched onto Peter’s arm hoping you didn’t faint or get overwhelmed and have an anxiety attack, even though you were surprisingly calm.  You ended up sitting with Peter on your left and Wanda on your right.  You soon discovered that lunch was pizza. Thank god.  You were afraid it was going to be something fancy.  Wanda offered to get you some you favorites using her powers, to which you accepted.

“So, Y/n,” Tony started, “Peter tells me that you’ve already graduated from high school.”

“Uh, yeah.  After the blip, when I came back, my school was no longer running so I decided to do school from home.  It was just easier so I spent my time pouring over my studies and working on some projects.  I finished what would usually be five semesters in about five months?”

Tony seemed to be impressed. “Tell me about the projects you were working on.” You looked over to Peter, kind of asking if he had told him about your powers. It took him a second to understand but he returned with a nod.  “After I came back I discovered my powers so I used an old microscope and collected some of my blood to study.” You went on to explain your process and what you found.  You then continued by talking about your projects.  The avengers would ask questions, mostly Tony, Bruce, and Peter.  

Then you felt it, it was like someone was screaming in your ear. Loki.  That couldn’t be right, Loki died during one of the battles with Thanos. As you began to understand and test your powers you learned that a person’s subconscious was almost always saying their name, the only time that becomes loud enough for you to hear is when the person is trying to focus or is under a crap ton of stress.  The screaming persisted.  You finally decided to turn you powers completely on to figure out exactly where it was coming from.  You finally discovered it to be the man who seemed to be preparing some desserts.  The voice screaming Loki over and over continued to grow louder and louder. The sound was banging around your skull causing you to develop a slight headache.  You turned to Wanda, you wanted to make sure before you started to throw around accusations of Loki being in Avengers Tower.  “Wanda,” you whispered in her ear, “could you read that guy’s mind over there.  Something feels off.”

She nodded her head.  Her eyes had a very faint red glow to them.  After a few seconds she suddenly stood up causing everyone to turn their heads to her, a few them went into instant defense mode, ready for a fight.  Her hands began to glow red and the man was now surrounded in the red glow too.  “Reveal yourself or I will,” she demanded.

The man groaned and rolled his eyes.  “Come on,” he said while transforming and revealing himself to be Loki.  

Thor stood up quickly his happy demeanor turned mincing as he held his hand out for what you assumed to be for Mjolnir to arrive.  

Peter quickly picked you up from your chair and ran you out to the elevator.  Which was smart because now there was yelling and screaming. “Friday take us to the game floor… Shit!” Peter grinned punching your arm slightly.

“Didn’t know I could do that.”

“No, just didn’t expect Loki to be here much less alive!”

You went on to explain to Peter how you had discovered the God of Mischief while to elevator when down.  Eventually it stopped and you two got out.  You finished your story just as Peter opened the first door.

“This is the gym.”  It was a expansive room, a portion of it was just the usual work out gear, a ginormous rock wall, and a boxing ring.  “Over here is my favorite bit.” Peter led you to a door.  When you stepped through it was full of walls that didn’t meet the ceiling, little secret paths and quite a few upper platforms.

“This is where we play laser tag,” Peter explained, “It’s meant for training but also fun! Everything can be changed with a push of a button.” He walks over to a panel on the wall and pushes a few buttons on the tablet.  The room then shifts and changes, its now a little more direct with a lot of less tunnels and more simple hiding spots. Peter then walks over to a wall that has some vests and weapons. He turns to you with a cheeky grin, “Do you wanna play?”

You smile reaching your hand out to receive a vest. “Game on.”

You and Peter play for who knows how long, but it distracted both of you from what happened upstairs.  Even with both of your regenerative abilities you were both panting and sweating after half a dozen rounds but still having fun. Then Friday spoke up, “Peter, Mr. Stark has informed me that you need to check your phone.”  You both pause your game; Peter reaches for his back pocket and reads a message.

“What does it say?”

“Umm, he just wanted to let us know that they got Loki,” he says peeking up from behind a wall then you shoot at him missing.  “Cheater!”  After a few more rounds Peter asks, “Do you want to continue the tour?  We can always come back here later.”

“Yes, please,” you say catching your breath.  You and Peter put up the gear, get some water and then exit the gym area.  He shows you a massive olympic size pool with several diving boards of different heights.  Then he takes you to a huge game room.  It has several TVs, computers, there’s even a small VR room, and of course there are tons of board games.  

Since he got that text form Tony, Peter’s excitement keeps growing and growing.  “You have another surprise, what is it?”

Peter opens his mouth then closes and he lets out a sigh, he’s a terrible liar and you’re basically a walking talking lie detector.  “Come on,” he lets out sounding a little defeated.

You let out a chuckle, he leads you back to the elevator. “Friday, take us to the living area”  

The elevator rises.  It takes you to a common area, there’s a kitchen, dining table, and a tv with some couches and chairs all in the same room.  You assume, like Peter said, that this is where the avengers live.

“I wanted to show you the labs first, but I think you’ll like this a little more.  This is where the Avengers live,” he grins like he always does with pure joy escaping him.  “The Starks’ have the Penthouse, so they don’t have rooms down here and there’s a floor just for King T’Challa and his family, Princess Shuri’s nice you’d love her.”  He leads you to a hallway with several doors. “At the end of the hall there is a guest room on each side. This hall has War Machine’s, Hawkeye’s, Widow’s, Antman’s, Dr. Banner’s, and Dr. Strange’s rooms.” He had pointed to each one respectively. He then walks to the opposite side of the living space and to another hallway. Instead of stopping before the hallway he continued walking into it. “These on the left are Falcon’s, Wanda’s, Bucky’s, and Steve’s.  On the right there’s Captain Marvel’s, Thor’s, mine, and this one...” he opens door that’s in between his and Thor’s and walks in, you follow. “This is yours.”

You let out a gasp and put your hand to your mouth.  All of your stuff is here, your bedding, posters, pictures, clothes, all of it.  You can feel the tears streaming down your face and you turn to Peter who is smiling with tear filled eyes.  “What?” you breathe out not sure what to say.  Peter simply pointed to a note on the bed.  You walk over to it and read it:

“Welcome to the team, we got a lot to talk about but for now enjoy. -The Avengers”

“I..” you turn to Peter who is now crying, too. You walk to him and engulf him in a hug and whisper, “Thank you.”

Next Chapter

Arriving-deleted Scene

#avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #angst #fluff #avengers x lesbian #peter parker #peter parker x platonic!reader #avengers x fem!reader #LGBT #x reader #the new kid

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 8

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bucky entered the bar wearing a neat, black expensive suit, a Rolex sticking out of his left sleeve. He unfastened two buttons by his waist and flung both sides of the suit in the air before sitting down on the stool. He rolled up his sleeves, his lean forearms in plain sight under the incandescent lights hanging by the counter.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have so you shook your head and ignored his gaze, getting back to work.

"Fancy seeing you back here, James." Out of nowhere, a slight giggle came out from your mouth, pushing the tap handle up and briskly pushing Bucky's hand away. Your eyes found his, whilst you waited for the liquid to fill the beer mug. "I'll get back on you later. I have to give this beer to that son of a bitch over there."

You glanced at the man from earlier who was still giving you a death-like stare.

Bucky responded with a short chuckle and waited for you to finish. You opened your mouth to call Nick but decided against it, calling for Nat instead, who was holding a tray of chicken wings. Nat usually only had three shifts a week but since you were understaffed this week, she had the decency to help out.

"By the way, is Peter here?" Bucky asked.

You glanced at Peter's briefcase. "Yes, he came here straight from an urgent work thing. He just needed to go to the toilet."

"Good, good, that's good." He kept nodding his head, staring at absolutely nothing at all.

You waved your hand in front of his face. "Bucky? You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He answered but you weren't convinced. He looked at Peter's briefcase and the beer bottle beside it. "Is that Peter's drink?"

The realization dawned on you once those words slipped out of his mouth. You pursed your lips then nodded. "I tried talking him out of it before but he never listened. You know how Peter is. Stubborn as a damn rock."

"That he is."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I think so, but not now. I think now's not the right time." He replied. "So, how about that drink, doll?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

You ignored the shivers starting to slither on your skin when you heard his little nickname for you. You have been called other nicknames in the bar, including doll, but not one had an effect on you.

Except Bucky.

While grabbing a glass on the counter, you continued to stare at him you felt absolutely nothing. "I feel like you're more of an old-fashioned guy." you commented.

Bucky didn't say anything but a smile formed on his pink plump lips as you made him a glass of old-fashioned. Besides, you can never go wrong with the original cocktail.

Once you were finished, he held the glass near his face, his nose hovering above the drink.

"You know, I've had so many old-fashioned. Smells nothing like this." Then, he took a tiny sip, released a puff of breath and clicked his tongue. "But damn, if it isn't the best old-fashioned I ever had."

You suppressed a giggle. Instead, you smirked at him. "You're not the only one who can make a mean drink, Bucky Barnes."

He chuckled and went on to say that his was still better since it was his own drink and not a classic one. You weren't much of the condescending type so you agreed with him. You could never make your own drink; only the ones you've learned from Steve from the past year.

By the time Bucky devoured the whole drink, Peter had arrived. He was so loud that everyone in the bar turned their heads towards Peter who practically jumped on Bucky from a feet from where he was standing.

"Parker, keep it the fuck down." You scolded Peter like how a mother scolds a child. But with the curses.

Peter gave you an apologetic look as he sat down on the high stool. "Oh, wait, guess who came by the office today," before he could even let you guess, he jumped straight to the answer, "Wanda."

Your actions stopped the moment you heard Wanda's name but moved on eventually. You ignored Peter's eyes while you wiped the counter table, even though it was already squeaky clean. "Maximoff?"

"Yes, Wanda Maximoff! Our team got her as the head photographer for the clothing line account we landed on." He stated.

"Who's Wanda?" Bucky interrupted, curious about the whole thing.

"She's this friend of y/n's who used to tag along with her almost everyday in NYU." Peter replied. "She's also a photographer."

Peter went on about the whole clothing line account for a few minutes. It was mostly about how he and his team landed a "cool photographer" like Wanda. Sunday was the only time Wanda was free so they took an opportunity to talk to her.

Must be nice to be so busy all the damn time.

Peter proceeded to talk so highly of her and all the work she'd done in just a shy of a  year in the industry. If you remembered correctly, the only time Peter and Wanda ever spoke to one another was when Wanda came to borrow something of yours and asked Peter if you were home. Now, he talked about her as if he'd known her for years.

Your eyes lazily wandered to the photographs you've shown Bucky this morning on the wall. Suddenly, it was eerily silent inside your head. No jukebox noise, no television noise, no rowdy noise; nothing.

It had been three years and you haven't accomplished anything that could fill your heart's content. No photos in magazines, not even on the damn streets. They were just here on the bar, camouflaged among the walls.

When your eyes found Peter and Bucky's, Peter had just finished his little story with Wanda starting to work with them for the next few weeks. "This is the biggest account my team has ever gotten. I am so excited!"

"I'm glad everything has been working out for you, Peter." Bucky placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, patting him.

"I just want to be like you, Buck."

Bucky glanced at you for a second. He let go of Peter's shoulder. He didn't respond to him. He just offered Peter a smile.

The two talked the whole night while you were pulled in every direction as more people came. You were making drinks left and right. The people by the counter had their eyes set on somewhere else. The television right above the counter. The billiards table. The jukebox. People dancing by the jukebox. Good-looking ladies being jeered at by single men, and vice-versa.

But only a pair of eyes was watching you move around: Bucky's.

You had caught him staring quite a few times the whole four hours you were working at the bar even though he was conversing with Peter. The whole time making and handing drinks to people, you kept thinking if Peter and Bucky were talking about you. Usually, you would eavesdrop in other people's conversations — of course, these were strangers. You didn't think you could do that to both Peter and Bucky. You shut your ears whenever you'd come near them but it wasn't as if they could be heard, anyway. You could barely hear the conversation with the television on, the jukebox playing and all the people buzzing in the bar — but you did catch some words like "Stark", "White Wolf", "home", and some country names.

All of a sudden, you stopped obsessing on the subject of their conversation. Your mind was then wrapped around with thoughts on Wanda and how, in just one year, she had already accomplished so much in her career whilst you were still here, juggling two jobs. You weren't the jealous type but the more you thought about it, the more those ugly feelings grew. Your photos on the damn walls were not much of a help. They just reminded you that you were a failure, that this was what you get for being a mediocre photographer and for settling for a menial job.

But you had to do what you needed to do in order to survive in this cruel world.

You did try and apply for some big advertising and business companies while working in the bar but luck was never on your side. There were always better ones, or ones who had connections. The latter one was just one of the many reasons why you hated big corporations.

"Who's the rich guy?" Whisking you from your train of thoughts was Nat. She was holding a tray full of canned beers and some fries, and caught up with you.

You walked towards the booth together.

"That's Bucky. Peter's stepbrother." You and Nat gave the food and beverage to the people in the booth.

"He'd been eyeing you for the past few hours." She hugged her tray on her chest as you walked back to the counter. "And you know what I think, y/n?"

"Nat — "

"He wants a piece of you."

You and Nat weren't as close as people would think you were. You only hung out in the workplace. And by hang out, you meant talking (even gossiping) while working.

"Please, he's so much older than me."

"That's what makes it hotter, dumbass."

"When was it ever hot?"

"Duh, those lingering stares he'd been giving you." She raised an eyebrow, stopping at the edge of the counter. "I'm telling you, he wants you."

"He's Peter's stepbrother, Nat. It's inappropriate!"

"It's not like he's his biological brother. And besides, I think it's..." She leaned in and whispered. "Thrilling."

You rolled your eyes. "And I think you're delusional."

"Think whatever you want to think." Nat chuckled. "But the facts are right there. He wants to get a taste of you, and you of him. Ciao, bitch."

And with that, she spun around, her red hair lost in the sea of strangers.

By the time your shift was ending, you removed the apron and hung it on the coat rack near Steve's office at the back. Your instinct was to go to Steve's office and let him know that your shift was over but you just remembered that he was in Rhode Island with his family. You lost the grip on the knob then went back to the counter and tapped Peter's shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Bucky.

"Already?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Wow, it's true what they say. Time flies by when people are catching up."

You squinted your eyes at him. "I literally have never heard someone say that, Parker."

"Really, never?"

"Never." You replied, opening the passthrough. "Now, let's go."

"Wait," Peter said, "I have to go to the toilet real quick."

"Our apartment is right above this bar. You can just go there."

"Sorry, y/n. This can't wait." He sped towards the toilet, practically flying. You sighed and took his seat, facing Bucky.

"Hey, doll." He said in a voice that could make any woman swoon and fall on the floor. Bucky's voice was raspier than you remembered, breath with a hint of whiskey mixed with beer. "Haven't spoken to you in a while."

"Sunday nights can be busy as well."

"So, I've seen." He hummed. "This is your everyday life, huh?"

"Except Mondays. We're closed on Mondays. And except when I have some photography gig." You replied then whispered the next part: "Which I haven't been getting lately."

"Isn't Sunday," he laughed, "supposed to be a rest day?"

"In our bible, it's Monday."

Before Bucky could even speak, Peter came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "If you just accepted that job offer at our company, we would've been working together, y/n."

You playfully shrugged him off. "You were thinking about that while peeing? Weirdo. Plus, Wanda has a lot more experience than I have."

"But — "

"Come on, let's go. You're drunk." You lifted off his arm and turned towards Bucky. "You take him. He's a bit hard to handle when he's this drunk."

Bucky walked ahead, guiding Peter towards the door. Before you could even follow the two, Nat patted your shoulder. You spun around, meeting her suggestive eyes. Without even a second thought, she pulled your tight v-top even lower and spilled some drink on your exposed cleavage.

"Nat, what the damn hell!" You hissed.

"Trust me on this, babe." She scrunched up her nose. "Go get some rich dick." She twirled your body so easily then slapped your ass. You wanted to shout at Nat but you didn't want to cause a scene in the bar and the moment had already passed as she disappeared amongst the crowd once again.

You caught up towards Bucky and Peter, opening the door for them.

The walk towards the apartment unit was tedious and was accompanied by Peter's hilarious commentaries about every little thing he saw on the way. As Bucky's arm was getting sore, you helped lift Peter up as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You felt Bucky's eyes on you as you lifted Peter's right arm, slinging it across your shoulders. You came face to face with Bucky, his eyes somewhere underneath your neck. You cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh," he stammered, "you got some alcohol on your... uh..."

"Oh, yeah. Don't mind that. Some idiot spilled on me." Nat really was some idiot.

A genius idiot.

Peter immediately hugged his pillow once we placed him on his bed. You leaned in and kissed his forehead good night. "I hope you have a heavy hangover tomorrow, Parker."

You turned around only to be blocked by Bucky's towering figure. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking down on your feet.

"It's alright, doll." He replied, making some space for you to walk on.

You headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Bucky followed suit, tossing his suit jacket on the couch as if he was living in your place.

"You should go get changed." He spoke.

You rolled your eyes, finishing up your water.

"Okay, daddy." Of course, you meant it as a joke as it sounded so much funnier in your head — not so much said out loud.

Bucky's eyes lit up with curiosity, walking towards you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You replied quickly. "I absolutely said nothing."

He just continued to stare as he strode towards you. You just stayed frozen in your place, unable to process what was about to happen. You backed away from Bucky as he neared you, your back hitting the fridge. He stopped right in front of you. He looked so much different when you first saw him. His eyes had become darker and stared with so much intensity and intention.

"You know, you're something else." He licked his lower lip.

"I don't know what you mean, Bucky."

He traced your jawline with his finger and tilted your chin up. "I can't quite put my finger on you, doll, but you're really something else."

You weren't ready for something to happen so you walked as quickly as you could towards your bedroom, locked the door behind me and leaned against it. Your breathing was quite uneven and your heart thudded like fast bullets on the ground.

You looked down on your sticky chest that reeked of vodka. You pursed your lips together. "Natasha Romanoff, you son of a bitch."

#bucky barnes story #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky imagine #australia #bucky fan fiction

[haravath0t]

His Valentine

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x 40s!Reader

Warnings: long word count, angst (if you squint), and fluff!

Word Count: 2.3K 

Summary: Bucky gets stood up while going on a date and the reader goes and rescues him. Not wanting his night to end on a bad note, she takes him on a date, resulting in Bucky realizing by the end of it that it was her all along. 

Hello guys! I hope your weekend is going well! Despite it being quite late to the Valentine’s Day holiday, I truly wanted to get this one out so bad when I got the chance! Who doesn’t want to be swooned by Bucky? I dedicate this work to my wonderful Bucket, @world-of-aus​ as she is the one who did inspire me with writing, so this is a little something for her and you guys! You have to forgive me for getting so carried away with this one! Enjoy!

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?” You ask into the phone? 

“U-Ummm… Y/N?” you hear a familiar voice question. Your eyes shoot wide open.

“B-Bucky?” You gasp, holding the telephone firmer in your palm. You were not expecting him to call at all. “What is happening, Buck? Need an extra tie? A thicker coat? You should be have dinner with that dame you know-” 

“Y/N…”

“Dolores, right? That redhead that you’ve been into. You have to be ther-”

“Y/N, she’s not coming.” He sighs in disappointment, frustration and sadness evident in his tone, making your eyes widen even more than they originally were. “Oh my goodness, Buck, you’re kiddin’. On Valentine’s Day?! After all you two did? Maybe it took her a while to get ready?” You question in disbelief, trying your hardest to not get your hopes up. 

“Oh no that’s not what it is, doll.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“She came with another man… Richard Jones.” 

“Oh my gosh, that’s terrible. You’re at the Stork Club, right?” 

“Yes-” 

“Alright, wait outside. Be there in about 10 minutes. Give me a second. And don’t you dare go anywhere.” Is the last thing you say before you hang up, immediately telling your mom that you’ll head out and bring your best friend home for the night. You waste no time changing into a decent evening dress and a coat, hat, and gloves before you head to the Stork Club, determined to make your best friend get the Valentine’s Day evening he deserves. 

“God, Y/N… I don’t know what I did wrong. I genuinely tried. Even spent money in Coney Island for her. She said yes to this, only for me to find out she comes in with a richer bachelor in Brooklyn.” He grunts as follows you into your house. You thank him under your breath as he continues. “What does he have that I don’t? I thought I made it clear I wanted this to work.” You stop in the middle of the living room to turn around and cup his cheeks, having enough of his moping. “James Buchanan Barnes, are you listening to yourself?” You start off, eyes looking straight up at his ocean blues. You continue on when he silently stares at you, surprise apparent in his eyes. 

“Listen, I don’t care which dame you decide to take on a date, I don’t care who it is, I don’t like how they bypass someone like you! Listen, to all the girls, you are the most eligible and handsome bachelor in Brooklyn. Aside from that reputation, they are missing out on the Bucky I know. The Bucky I know is witty, kind, giving, selfless, loving, humorous, smart, curious. You are more than a handsome face. You are Bucky. If those dames you wanna date or dance with cannot see that? That’s their loss! They have missed out on a great guy.” 

Bucky’s eyes had widened at your statement, he had soon realized he didn’t expect this talk from you. “Listen, Dolores was wrong for this. Especially on Valentine’s Day. You did nothing wrong. Do not degrade yourself because of someone who has done you wrong, you hear? We are going to make it better, I promise. Why don’t we have a hangout instead? Maybe we can eat some dinner here, and maybe go watch a movie, or something you’d like to do.” You say softly, in a more calming tone than last time. 

Bucky only could nod, a small, yet hopeful smile now forming on his face. “I… I think I’d appreciate that, Y/N.” He responds, making you reciprocate his smile back, giving him a nice and warm hug before heading into the kitchen. “Good… I’ll make some roast beef, salad, and mash. You stay put at the table.” You call out, prepping the food. Bucky did the total opposite, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you cook and prepare the ingredients. He smiled at the fact you turned on the gramophone to hear your favorite record play throughout the home, humming along and bouncing slightly as you concentrated on your work. 

His eyes widened at how he felt. Why was he getting tingly feelings in his stomach? Why was his heart racing? Why did he feel like he was going to faint when he heard you giggle at your own shenanigans? Why did this feeling always come back when he was around you? He shook it off, as he always did. However, within minutes, he wanted to face palm himself. You didn’t have a guy to greet you tonight. You must be uncomfortable hearing all of the Valentine’s Day talk since last week, and now he’s bringing it up again. 

“Oh no. Hey Buck? Do you mind if you do a quick run to the grocery store and get some sour cream? I realized I don’t have anymore.” You call out to him. Perfect, he thinks. He doesn’t hesitate to go on ahead. Maybe he can come back with a surprise for you, his selfless best friend. 

It didn’t take long for him to come back, handing you the sour cream and heading back to wait at the table at his seat. He smiled when he saw the way you arranged it, as it was notably organized, the way you always wanted it. He couldn’t contain the excitement, fidgeting as he waited for you. “Alright! Dinner time!” You giggle, setting down the roast beef before you set down the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Bon appetit! Happy Valentine’s Day!” You squeal, clapping your hands together as you look at the dinner with satisfaction. “It looks so delicious,” Bucky compliments with a beaming smile, looking up at you with a gleam in his eyes. “This is always our favorite whenever you, Steve, and I celebrated somethin’ over here, like our birthdays.” He recalls, making you smile even more at the memories that begin to fill your head. 

“Well, dig in, Buck!” You giggle, serving him with a good amount of salad, beef, and mashed potatoes before helping yourself. “Had to learn the recipe from momma, it’s probably the most delicious dish for a formal setting.” You remark, pouring water in your cup and his. “You’re right! We haven’t had this in a while!” Bucky exclaims before taking a bite. “Oh goodness, Y/N, this is so delicious.” He says, groaning in satisfaction before continuing his dinner. 

Dinner went about just fine. It was freeing for you both, for when you two were around with each other, all reservations would be thrown at the window, resulting in you two behaving as if you were still children teasing and making jokes. All thoughts and heartaches about Dolores were also out the window, for you two were completely fine and happy in each other’s company.

You washed the dishes and finished them promptly, excited to come back to Bucky’s company that awaited you in the living room. Your excitement had only risen when you heard the familiar record that you both loved to hear as well as Bucky calling your name. “Yes?” you ask as you make your way to the living room, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed that the lights were dimmed, the room only lit by the candles that had formerly been placed on the dining. However, your audible confusion turned quickly into a gasp as you saw him stand up with your favorite assortment of sweets in one hand and a bouquet of red roses on the other. There was no way this man was real.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” He says with that ever charming smile of his. 

“Oh, Buck! This is so lovely! Thank you so much!” You exclaim in disbelief, gently and carefully taking the flowers and sweets from him to set on the coffee table. Your eyes meet his, your smile matching his before you engulf him in a tight and warm embrace. “H-How?” You ask, trying hard to not let those tears that were threatening to fall succeed. Your heart fluttered when you heard him whisper in your ear soothingly as he rubs your back, “I think my most giving and kind best friend deserves some form of kindness and giving back this Valentine’s Day.” You must be dreaming. Never would you think you’d somehow be in the receiving end of Bucky Barnes’ charm. Never did you think that you’d be experiencing gestures like these from him. Although this was just two best friends trying to make each other feel better, you were willing to take it and imagine that he was here to make you swoon like he did with any other dame. 

“Y/N, sweetheart,” He whispers in your ear, causing you both to gaze into each other’s eyes once again, you two experiencing the dizziness, tingling, and racing heart once again tonight. However, you heard his breathing become more shaky than a few minutes ago. “You… you had treated me through a wonderful dinner and your kind words. Can I repay you with my flowers and sweets and a dance?” He asks softly, trying his hardest to hide the nervousness that was dying to become known. He didn’t know what made him offer this to you. You two were never this close and intimate before. However, his desire to be sure of himself overruled any fear he had in his head. 

He only smiled when you nodded, his hand holding yours as the other placed itself on the small of your back, guiding you into a small and slow dance. You sighed happily as you both started to dance cheek to cheek, swaying effortlessly across the room. Smiling as Bucky expertly spun you and brought you back to his form before he once again sweeped you across the floor. This made Bucky calm down. No longer nervous, no longer scared, no longer doubtful. He was now sure. He was now sure that you and him had something much more than what him and Dolores, let alone the other dames had. He never found any comfort, any peace, any transparency with any of them as he does with you. With you, he never needed to hold back. With you, everything seems to be calm. He enjoyed watching you smile, watching you laugh, cook, sing, sleep, exist. 

That’s when he realized. 

He loves you. He always has. 

That explains the tingles, for they were butterflies. That explains the racing heart, the dizziness. He was in love with you. He has denied his feelings for so long. He denied them when he saw you being approached by other boys. Then other teens. Then other men. It was not hard to see how beautiful you were and are. However, no one saw how you would skip when you were happy. No one saw how your eyes lit up at the sight of ice cream. No one saw how your eyes lit up when your tiny feet kicked as you played in the swings. No one took notice of your eyebrows furrowing when you studied arithmetic. No one took notice of how critical you were of yourself so that you may be as perfect as you can. Bucky, however, had fallen in love with all of this. 

He loved you from the moment he watched your five year old self eat your ice cream happily at the drugstore with soda pop alongside you.  He loved you even if you two argued about a broken wagon. He loved you even if it pained him to watch you laugh with another man. He loved you when you came to check up on him the day after his dates. He still loves you, as you sway in front of him, in that beautiful periwinkle evening dress. 

“Y/N,” he whispers once again, causing you to smile. “Mm?” “What kind of night are we going through?” He whispers with a smile, causing you to giggle and shake your head. “Hey… we are dancing in my living room, after a simple dinner, which happened after you were stood up.” You remark, causing you both to giggle. Here it goes. 

“What if I told you I prefer this over any of the dates I’ve gone to with the other dames in town?” You were now looking up at him confused. “What?” “What if I told you, that… this dance of ours… makes me want something more?” You were now breathing heavily, heart racing more than ever as you shook your head in denial. “James… you’re not leading me on, are you?” You ask meekly, hoping that you were not making this up. “I’m not,” he whispers, “I’m saying this because now I know.” 

“You now know what?” 

A smile kisses his lips. 

“A dame worth all the diamonds in the world. A dame that gives me all the happiness that I’ve been wanting for so long. It’s been here. It’s you.”

The tears had come back again, threatening to fall once again. “Oh, Buck… Buck…” You whisper, overjoyed with what you were hearing. Bucky was as overjoyed as you are, cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wiped your tears. “Oh, Y/N, sweetheart. What do you say? This isn’t the type of date I’d give. God, it’s a messy one tonight. But I promise, if you say yes, I’ll try to sweep you off your feet with each date we go on. Would you be my Valentine? Starting tonig- mmm.” He was quickly cut off as your lips gently sealed itself onto his, feeling himself burst with joy over and over again as his lips began to move against yours. They both danced harmoniously with one another, slowly and softly before you both pulled away to gasp for air. 

“I hope that gave you the answer that you needed,” you whisper softly into his lips, beaming as you run your hands softly through his hair. 

“That told me everything that I needed to know, my Valentine.” 

Permanent Taglist: @world-of-aus @world-of-aus-reads​ @whew-oh-em-gee​ @tomholland-96​ @lordyitsjordy​ @letstalkaboutsebbaby​ @thee-soom-soom​ @lookiamtrying​ @vesper852​ @hailhydra920​ @buckybarnesthehotshot​ @heyiamthatbitch​​ @rodrikstark​​ (If you would like to be included in a tag list let me know via ask! ❤️☺️)

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #buckybarnesxreader #bucky barnes scenario #40s!bucky #fandom basurero fics #40s!bucky x reader

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Kinks

The Devil Wears Nada

Summary: Steve’s fed up of getting cock blocked during what was supposed to be bit of alone time and would make a deal with the Devil herself to get some alone time with his wife… Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- (NSFW, 18+) Like seriously, if you’re under 18 get off my blog.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: This is possibly the filthiest thing I’ve ever written...and I’m not even sorry. It follows on directly from Bumps In The Night which was written by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ as part of Stark Spangled Banner’s Birthday Party. Give it a read, its wonderful!

SSK Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

 Katie and Steve headed back inside, Katie diverting into the lounge to go and retrieve the candy off the kids before they ate too much of it in one sitting. Steve had to snort at the various cries of protests that rang round the lounge and his wife’s stern voice telling the three children in there that she didn’t care if it was Saturday, they weren’t consuming enough E-numbers to fuel an army before bed. He made his way into the kitchen and was completely unsurprised to find Bucky already had his head buried in the fridge.

“Make yourself at home.” He deadpanned and Bucky looked at him, thrusting a beer in his direction. “Gee thanks.” Steve’s dry sarcasm still present as he looked at his friend who was offering him his own fucking beer. Bucky grinned and shrugged as he passed one to Sam as well as he strode into the room, the three men popping the tops. Steve took a long pull from his as he eyed Bucky “Why are you here?”

“Rude much?” Bucky asked, his eyes still checking out the contents of the refrigerator. “We were concerned uncles…you weren’t with the kids.” “They were with Emmy and Queens” Steve arched an eyebrow “Perfectly safe.”

“They showed up on Tin Man’s doorstep.” Sam grinned “We were halfway through studying a couple of files and they basically swamped us and said it was their last stop of the night. Bucky thought it would be fun to come back with them.”

“To bug the crap out of me or…”

“I wanted candy.” Buck shrugged.

“Then you should have gone Trick Or Treating.” Steve replied “And let’s face it, with a face like that, who needs a mask?”

“Ouch, Stevie…” Bucky looked at him as Sam chuckled in the background, before he turned his attention back to the fridge “Oooh, your Missus made a cheeseboard.”

“What are you a fuckin’ mouse?” Sam asked as Bucky pulled out the platter, setting it on the side.

“Just ‘cause I appreciate the good things in life, Seagull and you can’t.” Bucky shrugged, unwrapping the film from the cheese. “You know, Steve was just like this growing up.”

“Yeah, well, now I have better taste and I’m also big enough to kick your ass so stop eating my food and go home before I throw you out.”

“What’s got into you?” Bucky looked at him.

“You’re disrupting my plans.” Steve said simply.

“What pl-ooooooh!” Buck’s question morphed into a noise of acknowledgment as he looked at his friend “Then you should have taken advantage of the empty house earlier.”

“School boy error, Cap.” Sam smirked and Steve let out a growl of frustration.

“Well our various attempts to were thwarted one way or another, and now you two punks are ruining it again.” Steve glared at them “Put the cheese back and piss off.”

Bucky smirked. “Imma tell Katie you’re being nasty to me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes knowing full well the soft spot his girl had for Bucky and Sam. If she got so much as a sniff he was being a bit of a shit to either of them he’d be in for it. “You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?”

At the sound of his wife’s voice Steve jumped and turned to see her clutching the huge bowl that had previously contained their candy by the door and now sported the combined content of their kids’ bags, Harry toddling behind her, his eyes fixed on the prize.

“Oh this is gonna be good.” Sam smirked, leaning off to the side unwrapping a Reeses which he pulled out of his pocket, slowly chewing as if watching a movie.

“Hey Doll Face” Bucky grinned at her “Steve won’t let me eat the cheese.”

“Ignore him, you help yourself Buck.” She waved to it as she passed Steve the bowl of candy “Stop being so moody, stick that up high somewhere.”

“You know that won’t stop Jamie, Rori or him don’t you?” Steve looked at her as she picked Harry up who watched shrewdly as his dad placed the bowl on the top shelf of one of the cupboards “All 3 of them had scaled the refrigerator by the time they were 2.”

“No but it might delay them enough for us to catch them.” She shrugged, her eyes moving to Bucky who was eating a block of cheddar like it was an apple “Buck, do you want some crackers or…”

Bucky nodded but Steve cut him off. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes I do.” Bucky smirked as Katie looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow at his unusually frosty nature towards his friends. She set Harry down on the counter by Bucky who grinned at the toddler, offering him his hand in a hi-five. Harry grinned and slapped his Uncles palm before he looked at the cheese.

“Absolutely not pal.” Steve said to him and Harry looked up.

“Dinosaurs don’t eat cheese.” Bucky shook his head at Harry who stared at him and blinked before he shrugged.

“But I hungry.”

“You can’t possibly be.” Katie looked at her son

“I am Momma.”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Steve glared at Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky scoffed, his mouth full “What did I do?”

“Set him off, look, why don’t you go and eat Jen’s cheese?” Steve asked and at that there was a pause before Sam, Katie and Bucky all burst out laughing. Steve groaned “Ok, that came out wrong.”

Sam snorted “that’s what she said.”

Katie laughed harder and Bucky grinned, swallowing his mouthful as Katie headed into the pantry. “Innuendo aside, I can’t. She’s got something going on at the coffee shop. Bunch of teenagers doing Halloween activities or something, I don’t know. She won’t be free until later.” He turned to Katie as she walked back in, handing him the box of crackers and he thanked her “So I thought I’d come see my best friends for a beer seeing as it’s not even half 8 on a Saturday yet.”

Katie smiled at him “You two are always welcome here, you know that. Isn’t that right Steve.”

Steve fixed a smile on his face and glared at Bucky who was positively beaming at the fact he knew he was being a cock-block. “Course it is honey, course.”

“Right my little Jurassic baby…” Katie picked Harry up and he giggled, the hood of his dinosaur costume falling over his eyes. “Bath time.

“No bath Momma” he shook his head furiously, looking up at her as she pushed the clothing back off his head “I have one tomorrow.”

Katie looked at him, “Your face is filthy.”

“Wash my face then.” He looked at her and Katie raised her eyebrows and looked at Steve who chuckled.

“Wanna help me out here daddy?” Katie asked and Steve looked at his son.

“Ok, how about momma washes your face tonight but you’re having a bath first thing in the morning.” Steve looked at Harry as his son considered it for a second. It was late after all. Skipping bath night one evening wouldn’t kill him.

“Deal” Harry nodded, holding his hand out. Steve shook it as Bucky and Sam both gave snorts.

“You need a hand?” Steve asked.

“No, I got it.” Katie shook her head “I’ll get him sorted. You can send Rori and Jamie up in 15 though.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded.

“Say goodnight Harry.” Katie said, turning round so Harry could see Sam and Bucky.

“Goodnight Harry” he grinned, before he cackled at his usual joke. The tot had no idea why it was funny, but when he had first said it, it had cracked both Katie and Steve up so now he seemed to say it every night. Bucky and Sam obligingly laughed as Steve dropped kiss to his son’s head, before pecking Katie’s cheek as she carried him out of the kitchen.

**** Half an hour later, after Rori had done one final parade around the kitchen in her princess cat outfit, beaming when Bucky had declared her the “prettiest kitty cat in all the world” and Steve had once more told her “no, you can’t have a real cat”, all 3 kids were clean and in their rooms. Harry and Rori were both tucked up in bed, lights off, whilst Jamie was watching TV with a warning from Steve that he had 30 minutes before it was time to turn it off. Steve knew Jamie would listen, it was part of the deal that he got to have a little time like that in his room as he was the eldest one now. Jamie took it seriously, knowing full well that abusing said privilege would mean it was revoked just as it had been a few weeks months when he’d been giving Steve some serious back chat and cheek. Steve had sent him to his room and Jamie had simply shrugged responding sarcastically “Fine, I’ll go watch my TV, what a huge punishment.” Steve had seen red and headed straight into the garage before coming back with a pair of pliers. He’d walked straight into Jamie’s room, cut the plug off the TV leaving his son staring at him, open mouthed as he breezed out of the room with a simple “watch it now, smart ass…”

The 4 adults were all sat in the lounge, sprawled across the various sofas with a drink each as the fire roared giving the large living room a cosy, homely feel. Stark was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, snoring slightly, and the stereo was on playing a little background music whilst the rain pattered against the large ceiling to floor windows. Steve adored this time of year for precisely this reason. Katie snuggled under his arm, her back resting against him as she lay stretched out down the cushions, his arm looped around her crossing her chest. The hand that wasn’t holding her wine was gently rubbing over his forearm, her nails softly skating across the skin. Steve dropped a kiss to her head as they both listened to Sam who was recalling how Bucky had ended up with a load of candy stuck on the hand of his metal arm without realising, which he had then stuck in his hair when he’d run his hand through it.

“He cried like a bitch when I was pulling the gummy bears out.” Sam grinned and Steve tipped his head back, a huge laugh rumbling through his chest as Bucky glared at him.

“Punk.” He looked at Steve who simply smirked and took a drink from his bottle

“You know, I gotta say that these kids take it to the next level nowadays.” Sam swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I mean, some of those costumes are awesome. We saw a really cool Iron Man who had the reactor in his chest all lit up.”

Katie smiled “Yeah, Tony does seem to be a popular choice.”

“We got a Captain America.” Steve offered, not one to be out-done and Katie smirked to herself, “And by that I mean when it was me, or I was it, whatever. He may or may not have gotten extra candy.”

Sam and Bucky chuckled and Katie sipped her wine before she tilted her head back and looked up at Steve.

"At least we got no clowns this year..." Katie smirked and at the mere thought Steve shuddered and Bucky let out a huge snort.

"What...you're scared of clowns?" Sam looked at Steve but before he could answer Bucky jumped in.

"He ain’t just scared man, he's petrified. When we were about 8 and my folks took us to Coney, this guy dressed as a clown tried to give Steve a balloon and he ran away, but the best thing was…” Bucky leaned forward, his words coming between his howls of laughter “this clown kept doing it up until Steve was about 18 because he was so small and looked like a 10 year old.”

“Fuck you.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky as he and Sam fell about laughing. Katie kissed his arm and sat up, pointing at Bucky.

“Stop making fun of him…he was cute when he was a smol bean.”

“Thanks sweetheart.” Steve grinned, pressing a kiss to her head. 

“Coulrophobia” Sam nodded sagely, “Quite common actually.”

“I’m not surprised.” Steve shook his head “They’re horrible. I mean, who on earth ever thought they were suitable as entertainment?”

"I dunno, it was kind of entertaining when Jamie dressed up as one.” Katie smiled and Steve physically shivered at the mere memory of that particular Halloween.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked, looking at Katie and Steve groaned as he steeled himself once more to be the brunt of a joke.

“You seen IT?” Katie asked, “As in the newest one?”

Bucky nodded, grinning “A particular favourite of mine and Jen’s….although last time we watched it we kinda got distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Katie snorted.

“Don’t wanna know,” she shook her head as Sam Hi-fived Bucky “but anyway, we had a Halloween party about 9 years ago at Tony’s. Emmy asked if she could be in charge of hers and Jamie’s outfits so we said yes. Little did we knows she’d had a little help from my dearest brother and just as we were about to set off…” she snorted and started to laugh “they come down the stairs and Jamie’s dressed in the BEST Pennywise outfit I’ve ever seen.”

Bucky’s face split into a huge grin as Katie continued to laugh, shaking her head. “So he’s toddling towards Steve and his face…” she stopped talking, as her laughter was now uncontrollable and she shook her head and Steve sighed.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is.” She stuttered, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath “You stood there stock still, this look of utter horror on your face and I knew you were fighting the urge to turn and run…”

At that Bucky and Sam both burst out into laughter and Steve shook his head. “He was so upset when I wouldn’t pick him up.”

“You stopped the car at the top of the street because you couldn’t drive as you kept seeing him in the mirror…” Katie howled, tipping her head back in absolute, unadulterated laughter and Steve shook his head.

“You heard Sam, it’s a phobia…” he looked at her “I can’t help it, any more than you can about spiders.”

“Horrible eight legged bastards.” She shuddered as her laughter died down and she glanced up at him winking, as her voice dropped. “But you know the way to my heart…”

“Kiss you often, fuck you well, feed you snacks and kill the spiders.” he intoned, grinning as she chuckled “I know Doll, I know.”

**** Despite his best laid plans going to shit, Steve had to admit it was a nice evening as all 4 of them chatted and laughed but by the time Bucky and Sam left some 2 hours later, Katie had already gone up to bed about 15 minutes prior saying she was tired which meant Steve was now very doubtful he’d be fucking her well at all. Cursing Trick Or Treaters, counter surfing dogs, hungry babies and cheese eating, beer drinking friends he cleared the empty bottles off the coffee table and dumped them in the recycling before he let Stark out into the back yard so he could do his business. Steve stood watching him, the cold October air biting at his skin a little as he glanced up at the now clear sky, the rain having stopped roughly half an hour or so ago. He couldn’t believe it was November tomorrow. Another year almost done with. They were flying by, far too quickly for his liking. This year had marked 7 years since they’d reversed the snap and it still seemed like only yesterday since he’d walked away from it all and passed the shield to Sam, settling down into the domestic life he’d never dreamed in a million years he’d get. He was jerked from his thoughts when Stark walked back up to him, nudging his hand with his cold, wet nose and he smiled, petting the dog’s head as he walked past him into the little laundry room and sat obediently waiting for his paws to be dried. Steve shut the door, locking it and then towelled the dog down before the tan and white mutt shot off through the kitchen and into the hall. Steve heard his collar jangling as he bounded up the stairs to Jamie’s room whilst he himself made his way through to the lounge. The fire was still going, but he knew it would die down over night and he was just moving the grate to the front of it to avoid any embers spilling onto the floor when his ears picked up footsteps on the stairs. He instantly knew they were Katie’s and found himself smirking a little. Maybe he was gonna get a little frisky after all. And then he heard her walking across the hall and frowned, because it sounded like she was in heels.

“Honey?” he called, standing up straight and turning to see his wife leaning against the door frame, one arm extended above her head, the other hand falling to her hips as she looked at him, biting her lip. Steve felt his mouth drop open as he took in her appearance. She was indeed wearing heels, a pair of sparkly, high heeled red Jimmy Choos- her “Ruby Slippers” as Rori dubbed them, and his eyes scanned up her bare legs to the hem of the sheer, red negligee which finished mid-thigh. He could see the outline of a pair of matching, red lace panties underneath as he continued to take in her appearance. The top of the garment was low cut, her cleavage amplified somewhat as her breasts swelled over the lace cups and he swallowed as he felt his cock twitch whilst he simply stared at her, slack jawed. Fuck, she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his entire life and when she did stuff like this…Jesus.

He glanced at her face, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves and it was then he noticed that on the top of her head sat a pair of fake red horns. Steve’s mouth curled up in sinful grin as Katie gave a dirty giggle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as Steve strode towards her purposefully, one thing on his mind.

“Read to sell your soul to the Devil, Solider?” she asked and Steve let out a chuckle as he stopped in front of her, his hands gripping her hips

“I sold it to you years ago, Doll.”

She grinned at him as he pulled her closer, his fingers curling against her gentle curves, tangling in the soft material of the negligee as he dropped his head to hers, kissing her deeply. Her hands smoothed over the top of his grey Henley coming to rest on his chest as he curled one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. At the feel of her pressed against him, Steve let out a soft moan

“God I’ve been waiting for this all night” he mumbled and Katie grinned against his lips.

“Well like I tell the kids, a little patience goes a long way Stevie.” she purred and Steve shrugged, his hands dropping to the back of her thighs as he easily lifted her, her heel-clad legs wrapping around his waist.

“And as you know when it comes to you baby girl, I have very little self-control.”

“Don’t I know it, there’s reason we have 4 biological kids.” she pondered for a moment and Steve laughed as her lips met his again and her hands raked into his hair, her nails biting gently against his scalp.

With steady strides, Steve carried her over to the spot in front of the fireplace where he gently set her on her feet and knelt in front of her. The light of the fire cast a bronze glow against her smooth skin and taking his time to simply enjoy the moment, his hands traced up the back of her calves to her thighs, his touch feather light as he reached up to her ass. He gave her flesh a squeeze before pulling her forward a little and her hands reached out to rest on his shoulders for support as he pushed his head under the bottom of the lace garment, nose skimming along the waistband of her panties. He peppered hot, open mouthed kisses across her soft skin, before he dropped his head lower and nudged his nose over her covered mound. She whimpered a little as he brushed her nub and her hips moved forward, seeking him out.

“Now who’s impatient?” He looked up at her and she glanced down, arching an eyebrow.

“It may have escaped your notice…” she took a deep breath “My self-control is also pretty non-existent around you too.”

“Well, I’m not one to keep a lady waiting” Steve smirked and in a swift movement he hooked an arm round her waist causing her to shriek a little before she laughed as he deposited her gently on the rug, caging her with his arms. He glanced down at her, brunette waves fanning out over the light grey and black of the soft tuft wool and leaned down, his nose nudging against hers.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” she frowned a little, as Steve brushed his lips over hers.

“Good, now remember that. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Katie barely had time to register what he said before he’d moved down her body, hands skating up the outside of her thighs where his fingers bunched in her panties. With a sharp tug he’d snapped the elastic and tossed them to one side, grabbing her ankles and moving her feet so they were planted on the floor, the heels she was wearing caused her pelvis to raise up off her floor slightly. Without another word he pushed her knees apart and his mouth was on her, and he wasn’t holding back.

Katie’s body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work, devouring her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, which in all fairness he was. He was low key horny around her all the time and he’d been sporting a fucking semi pretty much since the first time they’d been interrupted that evening. Having her so close yet out of reach all night so to speak had driven him wild.

His tongue licked, and lapped, flicked and curled over and over and Katie’s groans and pants grew louder and louder as he worked her into a frenzy. She curled the fingers of one hand into his hair, the other gripping at the rug underneath her as she arched her back even more, pushing herself against his face as her head began to spin. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her entire body into overdrive and Steve could tell. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth, inserting 2 fingers inside her, both actions causing her hips to violently buck, her nails dug further into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Steve…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes which shimmered in the light of the fire, full of a blaze of their own as he continued, his tongue flicking at her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her legs trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex. He moved his head back but his fingers stayed exactly where they were, curling against the soft sponge of her walls as she clamped down around them, giving a little groan as she did, her legs flopping down flat on the floor. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Steve pushed himself up, wiping his wet face with the back of his forearm and crawled over her, cupping her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers. Katie moaned wantonly into his mouth as she could taste her arousal as his mouth dominated hers before he pulled back, his thumb and forefinger gently gripping her chin making her eyes open and lock onto his.

“On your knees sweetheart.” His tone was low as he used his Captain’s voice to issue the instruction, telling her not to argue. Not that she would, as mouthy and stubborn as she was this was the one area of their relationship in which she was always willing to surrender to him completely. With a graceful movement she pulled her legs back towards her and turned her body, rising to her knees, palms planted on the floor.

Steve pushed the waistband of his sweats and boxers down before he moved his hands to her hips, pulling her back with a swift action, placing one palm on the base of her back. With the other he took his throbbing cock in his hand, gave himself a few quick strokes before he lined himself up. With a snap of his hips he buried himself in her heat, balls deep, jolting her forward. The rumble from his throat slipped out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her, drowning her cries out.

His pace was relentless from the outset, just as it had been when he’d worked her with his mouth and his hands gripped her waist tightly as he drove in and out of her over and over, in fast, deep movements, pulling her back onto him with each thrust he made. He watched her face as her head fell forward between her arms, her bottom lip clamped between her lip, eyes closed in pleasure, those dirty little noises she made joined the sound of skin slapping skin as he did just as he’d said he was going to do, and fucked her hard.

It was raw, animalistic even, and a far cry from the usual way Steve liked to love on her but hell, it felt just as good to Katie as anything he ever did and after a particularly deep drive she cried out, fisting her hands into the rug, as she felt him bend over her, his large frame crowding hers from behind.

“God you feel so good baby…” he groaned, his chest was pressed to her back, his mouth nipping at that spot on her neck as she felt the heat pooling in her belly again. In an almost automatic movement, her head rolled to the left, allowing him access to her neck where he nipped and sucked at her skin, her gasps growing louder as he continued to thrust. “So fuckin’ good…”

As he spoke, Steve reached up and wrapped one large hand around her neck, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Katie could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations.

“Captain…” she panted softly against his mouth as Steve gave an almost pathetic whine at the sound of that name slipping from her throat as he continued to push into her, driving deep before he stilled, his hips flush to her ass. Katie gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, letting go of her neck and pushing himself back up as his hand slid down her body, between her legs drawing a long wail of delight from her mouth as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…Steve I’m gonna...”

“Go on, come for me baby…” he hissed, his jaw clenched, the sweat beading on his brow as he rutted forward again, once more grinding against her “Give it to me, let go…”

With a last, loud, filthy lament she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Steve’s arm quickly looped around her waist holding her up as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl.” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me.” Katie preened at his praise, relaxing slightly as he bent over and kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. And then, she pushed back suddenly catching Steve off guard, sending him sprawling onto his back. She went with him, his cock still stuffed inside her, her back sliding on his chest as he continued to fuck up into her, his knees bent, feet flat on the floor. Katie’s head fell back against his shoulder, her face tilting to kiss his as she lay on him, legs spread, feet planted either side of his hips. His hand crept over her stomach, dipping into her folds as his fingers and palm furiously toyed and played with her, brushing against his shaft as he rocked in and out of his wife.

“Steve…” she whined “I can’t…it’s too much…” “You got one more in you.” he all but growled, “I know you do. And I’m taking it, whether you want me to or not.”

True to his word he continued his unyielding assault on her senses and before long her breathing had risen and his name was slipping from Katie’s lips in that familiar staccato pant. She gave in, and this time the climax almost feeble but still just as pleasurable as she fluttered around him. At the feel of her round him, and the sound of the exhausted, sultry groan she let out into his hear Steve was done for, and with a final, violent buck upwards he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

The pair of them lay still, chests heaving  and Katie licked her lips, eyes closed as she waited for her body to gain some form of control over itself. After a little while, she felt Steve’s hands gently slid up her side to the outside of her arms, giving a gentle rub as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“You ok?” he asked.

Katie hummed a little and grinned, tipping her face round to look at him “I’ll say…that was…”

“Yeah…” Steve nodded, the pair of them chuckling. “It was worth the wait.”

Katie’s head lolled back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes again. Not wanting to move just yet, the feeling of her lay over the top of him whilst he was still buried inside her was too nice, Steve wrapped his arms around her front as he shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to her lips. She wiggled her hips a little and he gave a low grunt at the sensation and he looked at her as she arched an eyebrow.

“You want more?” he asked, his voice low and she fixed him with a look that was half suggestive, half apprehension as to whether she could actually take anymore. Steve grinned and pressed his lips back to hers, the kiss deepening as he felt himself starting to grow hard inside her again, and just as he had pushed her up into a sitting position, backwards on his lap, the security system sounded and the front door clicked open.

Katie’s head turned back to look at him over her shoulder, both faces sporting expressions of utter horror as Emmy and Peter’s voices drifted up the hall.

“Shit…” Katie jumped up, glancing down at herself as Steve scrambled to his feet, tucking himself into his pants, hastily yanking at the crotch in an attempt to make them a little less snug, so to speak.

“Give me your shirt…” Katie hissed and he reached over, grabbing a fistful of it in his hand. Yanking it over his head he tossed it to her and she shoved it on over her skimpy little outfit, before she kicked off her heels, and she’d just smoothed her hair down when the door to the lounge opened. Emmy and Peter stopped dead. Peter hastily turned away as Emmy’s eyes roved over Steve’s shirtless form, then to Katie who was stood in his Henley which thankfully was big enough to cover her body down to the middle of her thighs, hiding the red lace garment underneath. Whilst they might have hidden their modesty for the most part, there was no hiding the fact both of their faces were flushed with exhaustion and sexual gratification…nor was there any disguising the fact Katie was stood with her legs crossed in a desperate attempt to stop Steve’s release from dribbling down her leg. And then just to make it even more obvious, Katie’s shredded red lace panties were dumped in the middle of the floor right by her discarded heels…

“Jesus Christ…” Emmy mumbled, backing out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Katie and Steve glanced at one another, and Katie burst out laughing at the look of utter horror on Steve’s face.

“Cheer up Steve…” she patted his chest “Could have been worse.”

“Seriously?”  he blinked “What could be worse than basically being caught in flagrante by our daughter and that boy?”

“Ok, first off, his name is Pete…and actually I can think of a few things.” Katie shrugged, bending down to pick up her shoes and her destroyed underwear “Had she come in like 2 minutes earlier she’d have caught us in a much more compromising position…or even worse than that, we could have walked in on her.”

“Doll, just don’t!” Steve held his hand up, giving a groan.

Katie laughed and made her way to the door. “I’m going upstairs to clean up and get in bed, can you bring me a bottle of water up please?”

Steve sighed and nodded, watching her go. Taking a deep breath he wandered into the kitchen were Emmy was stood scowling, leaning against the kitchen counter as she glared as his topless form, Pete hastily averting his eyes.

“You two are disgusting.” Emmy shook her head “It’s bad enough hearing you in your bedroom but…fucking hell Dad!”

“Watch your mouth Emily.” Steve said sternly as he felt the heat rising in his neck. He made his way to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he straightened up. “We weren’t expecting you back so early.”

“Clearly.” Emmy arched an eyebrow.

“You know what?” Steve’s temper flared a little “This is mine and your Ma’s house, and well, frankly, we’ll do what we want, where we want.”

At that Peter gave a little cough and pushed himself up off the counter, “I’m gonna…yeah…” he said, pointing to the utility room door “I’ll be in the cabin Em.”

Neither Steve nor Emmy paid him any attention as he scuttled off, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Dad!” Emmy spluttered, her face in her hand as she shook her head “That was so embarrassing!”

“Well it wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for us either you know Em!” Steve groaned “Like, seriously, why did you even come in here anyway? You don’t need to come through the house to get to your annex!”

“We were hungry.” She whined, “Mom said she’d leave us something in the fridge although frankly, now I’ve lost my appetite.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face before he shook his head, taking a deep breath “I’m gonna go up to bed. Can we just forget this happened, please?”

“I’d love to.” Emmy practically growled as she made her way towards the rear of the kitchen. “God, I need to scrub my eyes with bleach…once you’ve finished using it to mop wherever you were…you know.”

Steve arched an eyebrow and that little devil on his shoulder reared his, or her as the case may be,  head and he couldn’t help the sarcastic response as it flew from his mouth “I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I’d need a lot of bleach to wash down each surface of this house I’ve had your mother on.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open and she looked at him, before she let out a loud groan. “You’re disgusting. Like, I can’t even…”

She shook her head and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. Steve shook his head, watched as the security light clicked on whilst she stormed across the back garden to her little annex and with a chuckle he made sure the door was locked and turned off the lights.

All in all it had been a damned good day now he thought about it. He’d carved pumpkins with his kids, seen them all have a great time, eaten Italian, drunk beer, chatted to his friends, fucked his wife exceptionally well and now embarrassed his eldest.

“Mission accomplished…” he snorted to himself as he took the stairs two at a two, padding across the hallway and entering his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

#stark spangled kinks #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #stark spangled is 1 #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers smut

[dnvrsmedia]

Ready or Not

Carol Danvers x Reader

request : none

summary: continuation of Ready or Not, Carol and the reader get a bit more comfortable with each other.

warnings: none

AN: this one was really fun to write! i’m glad i got to incorporate some platonic! wanda x reader & can’t wait to see how the friendship grows! I hope you all enjoyed! stay safe <3

Part 1, 2, 3

 “It’s crazy in here, isn’t it?” Carol’s voice suddenly erupted behind you causing you to jump.

 Of course she found that interaction slightly comical and started laughing. It has  been a couple of hours since you arrived at the compound. You have been at S.H.I.E.L.D for a few years, so the initial interaction between you and the Avengers already living at the compound wasn’t as embarrassing as earlier in the day when you laid eyes on the tall blonde and beautiful. And no, you aren’t talking about Steve. 

“I don’t think i have ever seen this much food in one kitchen.” You chuckle as you pour the boiling water in a random mug you found in the cabinet. You chose it because it had a cute little cat playing in a grass field. It made you giggle once you pulled it out. 

“Well, we have a hulk. Peter also stops by here sometime and man that kid can eat,” She replies while looking amusingly at your choice of mug. 

“Oh, and you’ve already found my favorite mug.”’ She playfully pouts while moving toward you. You internally start to freak out. What if she doesn’t like you touching her things? What if she doesn’t like you?

“Oh man, I am so sorry! I just thought that there were mugs here and I didn’t even think about-” Your words grow quiet as the beautiful woman in front of you casually walks to where you are. She had the smuggest look on her face as she inched closer and closer to the point where her breath fanned across your face. She then stretched her muscular arm above your head to grab another mug in the same exact style. Her undershirt slightly lifting to show a snippet of her what you could only imagine to be twelve pack abs. Your face immediately profusely blushes red as she sets her arms on either side of your body. 

“I don’t mind sharing if it’s sharing with you.” She winks and moves from you to grab a bottle of whisky. You take a second to collect yourself so you won’t embarrass yourself for the fifteenth hundred time.

“Not a tea person?” You timidly ask while taking a sip of your tea.

“I have a shit ton of paperwork to do that I left to the last minute, so I need a bit of liquid courage.” Carol lifts her cup and takes a long and heavy swig of the contents inside. You shake your head disapprovingly at her. 

“If you need help finishing that just let me know, I’ll be in my room.” You finish your tea and set the mug in the sink and move towards your room.

You squeeze her shoulder on your way out. Did you do that as a sign of comfort or did you just want to feel her Deltoid? The world may never know. You could feel the intense gaze of her eyes burning holes in your back as you left. You turned around to catch her in the act and she wasn’t even remotely embarrassed. That’ll be Carol Danvers for you. 

…

It was the next day and Carol must have not come by for extra help. Granted you did fall asleep not even a half an hour later. Hopefully she was able to finish the work. You shook your head and rubbed the extra sleep out of your eye.

You check your clock to see the time. It is a quarter to six am. You sigh and roll out of your bed to get a start on your day. You normally like to go on a run when the sun is still low in the sky. Something about smelling the morning dew mixed with the cool air really makes running more pleasurable. You were about to open a drawer in your room when you realised your things from your apartment. You move to the sink to the sink instead. Luck enough for you, all of the toiletries you could imagine were already set up in the room, how nice. 

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you move to the kitchen. Hopefully someone is already up that you could borrow clothes from. You bump into someone as you are leaving your room. With your luck, you were fully expecting it to be Carol. Lucky for you it was just Wanda. 

“Oh gosh, Y/N! Sorry I didn’t see you there!” She grabs your arms to hold you steady.You shake your head at her apology. 

“No, it’s all me! I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry about that. Oh hey not to be a bother, but do you have any workout wear I could possibly borrow? My things from my apartment aren't getting here until noon today.” You ask. Wanda’s face immediately lights up with a smile.

“Of course! I actually just got this new set that you could wear!” She excitedly pulls your arm down the hallway back into her room. You laugh at her excited nature. 

The two of you make it into her room and she goes straight for her closet. She pulls out a cranberry and black sleeveless workout top with matching leggings. 

“Here you are!” She passes them to you. “You can use my bathroom to change if you’d like.” She points behind you to show her bathroom.

“Thanks again Wanda, you’re a lifesaver!” You yell from the inside of her bathroom. Her room looks almost identical to yours except for the fact it looks more lived in. She had a thing for candles which you thought was adorable.

You step out of the bathroom to see wanda tying up her sneakers. 

“You wouldn’t mind if we were workout buddies?” She looks up at you.

“Of course not! I also have no idea where anything is still, so your company would be nice.” She laughs and throws you a water bottle. 

“The set looks like it was made for you. You can definitely keep it!” You go to refuse her very kind offer, but she immediately refuses. 

“Oh come on, Carol is going to drool when she sees you in this.” Your face heats up once again as she laughs. 

Lord this is going to be a long day.

#sapphicdaya #mcu fic #carol danvers fic #mcu carol danvers #carol fic #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers fluff #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #mcu #wlw reader #wlw and nblw only #nblw writing #nblw fluff #wlw writing

[marie-in-the-hallway]

Watermelon Sugar pt 1

wc: 2.3k

warnings: minor sexual content, swearing

...

Jenna doesn't know how her life came to be like this.

She was a good person; she had partied hard in uni, yes, but she studied hard enough to make up for it. She's nice enough to leave at least a twenty percent tip every time she gets the check, and certainly nice enough to drop coins in the tip jars of the baristas who make her coffee. She calls her mum a lot and she loves her sisters and she takes good care of her plant, a cactus she'd named Steve. She’s hilarious and witty, her friends love her, and she makes a decent enough living.

So it doesn't explain why she's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of her.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. One right now, in fact: Camille Rowe.  Also  the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Jenna’s sex dreams since she was about eighteen.

(What can she say, she's consistent. The kid might change her look every few years but the libido wants what it wants. Or something.)

Anyway, the point is that, currently, Jenna is looking straight into Harry's gorgeous green eyes and she can feel the heat of Harry's body radiating onto hers. She can also feel one of Harry's soft curls brushing against her forehead, and she knows that if she looked down, she'd see Harry's pink lips, quirked amusedly, like Jenna is something of a particularly endearing animal.

In summary, Harry looks like something straight out of Jenna’s masterbating vault, and Jenna is especially thankful at this moment that she does not have a cock because it would be hard as a rod at this very moment. 

"Do you, uh, work out a lot?" She blurts out, her mouth temporarily disconnecting from her brain, and she watches as Harry blinks, his long lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones.

There's a pause, and then she hears a snort.

"Is this a dating show, mate?" Nick Grimshaw, the twat, says, half-laughing from his seat at the radio console. He raises his voice in a poor imitation of Jenna, stuttering out a ‘do you, uh, work out a lot’ in between his giggles.

Jenna turns her head to look at him and scowls. "Shut up," she says, trying to ignore the cute way Harry is giggling on top of her. It doesn't really work, but at least she tried.

Nick raises his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm bringing us back on track. You're supposed to be asking him questions about his new album, not asking him if he works out. You're tiring out the little pop star there."

"Nah," Jenna hears Harry's low voice drawl from above her, and she turns her attention back to the hot boy on top of him. "`m not tired yet. Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the view." He shoots Jenna a cheeky wink, and Jenna feels her face flush.

"Okay," she says loudly, mostly for the benefit of herself. She vaguely wonders how red she looks on camera, and whether or not she can get the ground to swallow her whole right about now. Maybe she should retire after this. Radio 1 would just have to look for another person who won't choke in the vicinity of Nick's hairspray fumes.

Every day at one to four pm, Nick and Jenna host "The Future is Now", a radio programme where they play music, talk about celebrity gossip and tease each other. It's supposedly nothing special, just two childhood friends making fun of each other and making fun of celebrities and their drama and occasionally talking about football, but apparently their banter has made it the most popular rated programme on BBC Radio 1. So popular that a few months ago, their producer sat them down and told them to "come up with more shenanigans", an order Jenna was happy to comply with. Her and Nick have then proceeded to do almost everything, from innuendo bingo with a twist to organizing a huge water fight in Radio 1.

Their latest shenanigan is interviewing their celebrity guests in the weirdest way they can, and last time Nick had interviewed Taylor Swift through trying to interpret her answers through drawing. It was massively funny, a huge failure, and also very exhausting, according to Nick, because who knew that Taylor was such a terrible artist?

Which is also why it's Jenna’s turn to do the interviewing this time.

However, she's ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Nick did this on purpose. Drunk Jenna might have let it slip a few weeks back that she has a not-so-small crush on a certain very famous Harry Styles, and Nick, because he was apparently close friends with Harry, invited him to plank over Jenna.

Jenna’s going to light a match near his hair and watch his twatty quiff burn down.

"Okay," Jenna says again, because no matter how much she wants to go back in time and ensure Nick was never born, Harry Styles with his hair and his dimples is still above her, smiling like it takes no effort to plank like this at all. He's the most attractive man Jenna has ever seen in her entire life. "We're going to have a quickie--" and she resolutely ignores Nick's sniggers from the console and the way his face heats up, "--which is like a lightning round of questions, until you feel you need to lower yourself down or until the timer runs out. Alright?"

Harry nods at her, grinning even wider, and Jenna decides to pin her focus on Harry's left dimple so as not to be distracted by the rest of his face.

"Nachos or Tacos?" She asks, starting the game immediately.

"Tacos."

"Red or Blue?"

"Blue."

"Favorite emoji to use in a text message?"

"The tongue and the peach." Jenna ignores the almost-obscene way Harry says it. She also ignores Nick's snorts from the table. She can do this. She just needs to ignore the way she’s wet from this small interaction and get this done like the professional she is, before she can go home and masterbate herself away to oblivion.

 "Favorite song from your new album?"

"Um," Harry says, and Jenna feels his forearms shift from where it's beside her head. "Watermelon Sugar?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Jenna asks Harry's left dimple. See, she can be normal.

"Watermelon Sugar." Harry repeats, much firmer. "It's about oral sex."

Jenna’s eyes fly off Harry's left dimple and into his eyes. "I don't think you can say that on radio."

Harry just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Sorry."

"Cheeky," Jenna mutters, before plunging on. "Most important feature of your ideal girlfriend?"

"I don't know if I can say it on radio," Harry shoots back almost immediately, his smile widening.

Somewhere from his place on the radio console, Nick cackles. Jenna hopes he chokes on his own saliva.

"Something radio friendly, then," Jenna answers, keeping her voice level.

"Well," Harry drawls out, seemingly lost in thought, "I'm much more of a bum kind of guy," and Nick's cackles get louder and louder. "I like a nice, firm, handful of bum. But if it has to be radio friendly, maybe the smile."

"I'm going to get suspended because of you," Jenna deadpans.

"`s the truth." Harry smiles innocently. He shifts on his forearms again, and his long curl brushes over Jenna’s eye. His cross necklace also falls out of his shirt, brushing against the hollow of Jenna’s throat.  "Do you like bums, Jenna?"

"I like mums? I like my mum," Jenna says absently, half blinded by Harry's curl. She feels more than hears Harry laugh from above her, his abs quivering from above her body. Which, hey. Why is Harry laughing at her? She’s just trying to keep this show together, for the sake of her job and her listeners and because Nick is a useless idiot.

She clears her throat. "Ideal date?" She asks, blinking her eye against Harry's rogue curl. She focuses on it, tries to get it off her eye with just the power of her blinks and her eye lid muscles. It doesn't really work.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows above her, and Jenna feels a slight sense of dread settle against him.

"A walk on the beach, then a candlelit dinner, then back to my place--"

"Favorite hobby?" Jenna interrupts, because she cannot do this. She can't. She’s two innuendos away from being soaked through her pants, and she’s positive there will be a wet spot if Harry continues to imply vaguely sexual things.

"I like to bake," Harry answers easily, as if he wasn't on the verge of saying obscene things a few seconds before. Jenna hates him. Jenna also kind of wants to suck his dick.

"Last thing that made you cry?"

"Um," Harry furrows his brow and bites at his bottom lip. Jenna can't stop staring. "I...fell?"

"Fell where?" Jenna asks.

"I was getting out of the shower," Harry answers slowly, still seeming deep in thought. Jenna tries not to imagine a naked Harry, with little droplets sliding down his skin. She mostly fails. "Then I, like, slipped and fell. There were a few tears."

Jenna makes a noise of sympathy, her eyes glued to Harry's lips. "What did you hurt?"

"My bum."

That makes Jenna tear her eyes away from Harry's lips and into his green eyes, which are already shining with mirth. "What is it with you and bums?"

"I told you, I'm a bum man." Harry winks. He shifts on his forearms, and Jenna realizes that the planking must already be taking a toll on him. He doesn't seem close to giving up though, and Jenna admires his determination. Her sex drive admires the rippling of the muscles in Harry's forearms and the strength of his core.

"You seem to be a little bum crazy to me."

"Heyyy," Harry says, a cute little pout making its way onto his face. "Only for certain bums. The nice ones."

Jenna doesn't answer. "Favorite app on your phone?"

"Instagram."

"Last photo you took?"

"It was, like, a photo of my sister's dog in, um, space buns."

"Space bums, nice," Jenna says, because she can. She might get suspended from radio for a few days, but she's already aroused on camera and they've been talking bums since a while ago, so.

"Yep," Harry says, playing along. "They were out of this world."

Jenna opens her mouth to ask another question when her phone starts ringing, signalling the end of their quickie. Harry unceremoniously drops himself down, his entire body now in contact with Jenna’s own. Jenna can feel her skin heat up from where Harry's touching her, their entire lower half aligned. She shifts in surprise, discovering Harry’s (not so) little problem, so Jenna just. Speaks.

“Did you know the average whale penis is ten feet long?” 

She wonders if she can probably retire gracefully and run away to Guam.

Nick is still cackling like a madman but ten times harder. Jenna doesn't think he's even stopped to take a breath since he started.

Good, she thinks viciously. Maybe he'll run out of oxygen.

"I did not," she hears Harry whisper to her, his voice almost drowned out by Nick's laughter.

"Fuck," Jenna whispers, without opening her eyes. "Leave me here to die." She can't believe she ended up here, embarrassed and horny in front of the guy she's been wanking to since she was eighteen. She doesn't think life can get much worse than this.

"It's okay, you know, I blurt out things all the time" Harry whispers, his breath ghosting over Jenna’s face. "Also, you're not allowed to say ‘cock’ on radio."

Oh, so now he's concerned about radio content. What is Harry Styles.

"Please do not try to make me feel better about this," Jenna says through her teeth, ignoring his second statement. They're going to get taken off air because of this interview, anyway. She raises an arm to cover her eyes. "Just....ignore it. Please."

Harry, because he's nice, doesn't say anything anymore, instead pulls himself off of Jenna, so that he's sitting on his knees beside Jenna on the carpeted floor. Jenna takes three deep breaths before she opens her eyes, sits up, and runs to the radio console, where Nick is still cackling obnoxiously. She lets Nick take care of the goodbyes, shakes Harry's hand once and refuses to meet his eyes, and doesn't say anything until Harry has left the room and Watermelon Sugar is playing on air.

"So?" Nick hedges, nudging Louis with an elbow. "That was fun right?"

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Jenna answers, glaring. "That was fucking humiliating."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Nick says, dismissively, wrapping an arm around Jenna’s shoulder. Jenna wants to saw it off his arm.

"You're not the one who started talking about whale cock in front of like, three cameras," Jenna hisses back at him.

"You could barely hear it anyway," Nick says, rolling his eyes.  He pinches Jenna’s shoulder, waggling his eyebrows . "But Harry, eh? That was some intense flirting you had going on there."

"Nick," Jenna says, deadpan. "He's not single. You should know this, he's one of your best friends."

Nick frowns, but before he can open his mouth to say something, Jenna beats him to it. "Never mind him. He's probably going to get us suspended anyway, with all his obscene answers and talk about bums."

Nick cackles again, with his head thrown back. "That was pretty funny."

"Yeah, well let's see how funny it is when we get taken off air for a week straight," Jenna answers, rolling her eyes, before reaching over to queue up the next song.

Nick, the twat, just keeps laughing.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #watermelon sugar

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 43 - Meant To Be

Title: Irreverent Pt. 43 - Meant To Be Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: 22,571

A/N: I’m very nervous about this chapter, but I think it’s important nonetheless and I’m asking you to bear with me on it. I am very aware that this is an Aaron Hotchner story at its core, but I’d be remiss if I ignored the back story for a Reader I’ve come to really love and treasure. If it helps anyone, I picture John to look like Steve Rogers circa Winter Soldier. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Your mother was being impossible. Julian was escorting Elizabeth Abbott to her cotillion and everyone in the family was going except for you, which was completely unfair! You'd begged and begged the entire month, any chance you had with her, and she had yet to relent. You'd been on your absolute best behavior, you'd maintained your spot at the top of your class, and you'd even landed the lead role in the Nutcracker. Yet, your mother was of the opinion that little girls didn't belong at formal events.

Dom was back for his winter holidays and everyone was under the same roof again after nearly six months. Your Papa had been away on business for the past five weeks and there was a chance he hadn't yet spoken to your mother about the cotillion, so taking a risk, you asked him if you could attend.

He fixed you with his thinking look as you waited nervously, peeking over at your mother who seemed completely irritated with you going over her head.

"Have you kept up with what I taught you last time for your chess game?" he asks finally.

You nod. "Of course Papa.

"Good, then pick one of your brothers to play. If you win, then you may attend."

This was better than you could have hoped for. You quickly exchange a look with Julian who winks at you, bypassing your mother's glare.

"I'll play Julian," you say, standing to set up the board by the fireplace.

Dom, who had till that point been absorbed in his own business, chooses then to tune in to the rest of the family. "Oh come on! Julian's just going to let her win."

"No he's not!" you insisted, looking at your Papa. Dominic was being annoying for no reason and he would try his best to beat you on purpose. Why did he even care if you attended or not?

Your Papa looks between you and Dominic, and it must have been the fact that Julian avoided his eyes altogether that convinced him to listen to Dom.

"It should be a real victory, don't you think?" he asks you, fixing you with his stern face that always made you feel like he knew everything you were trying to hide from him.

"Yes Papa," you responded glumly, as you continued to set up. Dom and his smug face got up to take the seat opposite yours.

However, you needn't have worried. You hadn't lied when you told your father that you'd kept up with the chess lessons. You'd been practicing nearly every day, on your own and with Julian and his friends. Dominic lost far too quickly for being nineteen years old, playing his nine year old baby sister.

He stared at the board after you said checkmate for a few minutes, as if he couldn't believe that had just happened. As though you'd tricked him. Before you could really gloat in your victory, he roared and flipped the board over. You quickly scrambled to get away from him as he came at you with his arm raised.

"Hey, man, she's nine! What the hell!" Julian had ran to get between the two of you and Dominic shoved him, throwing him off balance, before he swung at his face.

You'd run to hide behind your father's chair as Dominic continued on towards you, having punched Julian in the face and knocked him backwards. It took your father standing up and being absolutely furious, for Dom to back off. He threw you a nasty look and strode out of the study, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Julian stood up, and you gasped loudly when you saw his face.

Your mother turns to you, absolutely furious. "You see! Now look what you've done. Your brother is supposed to be an escort - how is he meant to do that with a black eye?"

You turned to look at your father who only shook his head before walking out after Dom, leaving you to deal with your mother's wrath on your own.

How on earth was this your fault?

However, it had all been worth it, because here you sat at your very first ball. You'd had your dress picked out for weeks in the vain hope that you'd be allowed to go and it had paid off. Your legs dangled from the chair as you sat between your parents, your mother constantly fussing with your dress and chastising you to sit up straight. As the music swelled, you watched all of the girls walk down the steps in their white gowns, their fathers handing them off to their dates. Julian met Mr. Abbott at the foot of the steps and accepted Elizabeth from him. Your mother had managed to hide the black eye with some concealer and your father had knocked some sense into Dom, who was sulking at the bar in the back with some of his buddies.

Then there he was. Escorting beautiful Cecelia Rhodes, Johnathan Hawthorne walked past your table with her on his arm and as he caught your eye, he threw you a wink and a grin. You sighed to yourself, smiling wide as you watched him. John Hawthorne with his all-American good looks, amazing hair, and a smile that could warm the coldest of hearts. He was, by every definition of the word, perfect.

John led Cecelia to stand near Julian and Elizabeth - you knew that the two of them had practiced the dance all week with one other. You'd supervised. They better not mess it up and make you look like a bad teacher. However, you needn't have worried. Both Lizzie and Cece should thank you that they had the best dates there. All of the other boys messed up. A lot.

Your mother had given you a ten o'clock curfew and it was already nine thirty by the time the dessert was served, so you really didn't have too much time left before Mrs. Hernandez came to pick you up. Your parents had abandoned you a while back, so you were left to entertain yourself. You looked up and saw Julian talking to some boy from his class. It looked like him and Elizabeth were done dancing for the night, because her and Cece were sitting at a different table with some other girls. The music was still playing and there were a few of the older couples on the dance floor, swaying along to the music.

"Hey Cap."

You turn and see John coming up behind you and dropping into your father's chair. You giggled as you turned to him and said hello. You always loved it when he called you that. It made you feel special. He'd told you that you reminded him of one of the best chess players of all time, Capablanca, because the two of you both finished off your opponents lightning fast. He'd started calling you Cap because of it, insisting that one day you would be better than him. He also made it a point to play you anytime he was over, and while he had yet to win, he kept trying.

"You looked really good out there," you tell him, a slight color flushing your cheeks.

"Well, I had a pretty good teacher," he replies, smiling at you with his radiant smile that never failed to take your breath away.

"That's true."

He laughs, before swiping your dessert plate and finishing off the rest of your cake while you glare at him. But you're not really all that upset. It's John. You couldn't ever be all too mad at him.

"What're you doing here? Besides eating my cake," you ask him, indicating to the rest of his classmates who were scattered between a few tables in their own groups. None of the rest of them were sitting around with the baby.

"Well, I couldn't end the night without dancing with the prettiest girl here, now could I?" He smiles and offers you his hand, which you grab excitedly. No one had asked you to dance yet and it would be a shame to not dance even once at your first ball ever.

John leads you out to the dance floor and offers to let you stand on his feet, but you were determined to do this right. You weren't given the role of Clara for nothing - you earned that! He held both of your hands in his due to the height difference, and the two of you moved along to the music in formation.

"Hey John," you said, looking up at him shyly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you love Cece?"

He's quiet for a second as he thinks over your question. "Well, she is my girlfriend," he says after a few seconds, "but it's still new and we're figuring things out."

You nod. You'd expected as much - John was good at giving the right answers and he never lied to you if he could help it.

"Do you think you'll marry her one day?"

He laughs a bit at that. "Probably not. She's just a girl I'm dating in high school. Not many people end up with their high school sweetheart."

You smile at that. He's right. Most people grow up, move away, go to college and meet their wives and husbands there. Your parents had met one another in college, after all.

"Good," you tell him, allowing him to spin you around his finger.

He smiles a bit weirdly at that, his eyebrows going up a bit. "Why is that good?" he asks.

You're not sure if you should tell him. It is a little embarrassing. But then, if you didn't tell him, then he might pick some girl - Cece or otherwise - and that would cause other sorts of problems.

"Promise you won't laugh?" you ask him. You have to be sure that he wouldn't make fun of you for this. That would break your heart if he of all people laughed.

"I promise," he says, linking your pinkies with his.

You take a deep breath, before you look right at him. "Because one day, I'm going to marry you. And we'll get married by the lake where Auntie Amelia got married and I'll get to wear the biggest white dress ever. You'll wear a blue suit because blue goes well with your eyes. It'll be perfect."

You expect him to laugh even though he said he wouldn't. But then, John really isn't like that. He kneels down so he can look at you better, not caring that the music is still playing and everyone else is still dancing. He looks you right in the eye, completely seriously, and sticks out his hand for you to shake. "You got yourself a deal, Cap."

*------------*

It's Thanksgiving Break and his parents are on business in Asia so Julian had invited him to spend the holiday with his family. Dominic and his girlfriend would be there, and Julian had told him that you were dreading an entire week of playing nice with Dom so that he can show off the family and charm the pants off of the Huntingtons' daughter. John would be a welcome buffer.

He'd accepted mostly so he could avoid being the only person left on campus, and the alternative was to go home with the new girl he'd started seeing and he worried that meeting the parents so soon would send the wrong message. Caitlyn was nice and all but he didn't see much of a future there. She was bright in the way that girls tend to be when they're told they need to go to college to secure a husband. She could carry on an intellectual conversation for around five minutes, until you dug deeper and realized all she knew was the reader's digest version.

That's how he finds himself in Connecticut, sneaking out with you and Julian to the pool. He'd spent the day hunting with the men, and while your mother had thought you were going out to ride, you'd actually snuck along with them. Your father had merely shook his head before grabbing an extra rifle for you. He knew you didn't really want to hunt, you just wanted to be included. You kept conveniently missing easy shots and he'd gone to the shooting range with you too many times to believe you'd gotten that bad overnight. When he'd quietly called you out on it, you told him you didn't feel comfortable eating Bambi for dinner. He'd had to agree with you, so now your father thought he was a terrible shot as well.

It's been a while since he'd spent so much time with you, as he'd been away at college or doing internships. The last time, you'd been around thirteen and it had been his and Julian's second winter holidays when both of your families had booked a stay in Gstaad. You'd fallen ill and had spent most of the time sniffling and coughing in bed. Him and Julian would hit the slopes in the morning and then spend the rest of the day drinking hot chocolate and watching movies in your room while Julian complained about you getting your germs all over him. You talked to him about all the classes he was taking and the two of you had spent a memorable afternoon debating the merits of the death penalty. He was going to be using all of it for the paper he had due.

It's late at night and the moon is overhead. Julian had excused himself to go raid your father's liquor cabinet and in the distance you two can hear Dom and his girlfriend Katie fighting. Your mother had made some comment about her clothing and it had obviously gotten to her. She'd have to grow a thicker skin if she was going to last.

"Hundred dollars says they break up by Christmas." You look at him, your face betraying your glee at your brother's misfortune.

He laughs. "You're on." He had a feeling Katie was more resilient than most. She hadn't blown up at your mother to her face. She'd waited until it was just Dom and her. He had a feeling Dom would be making it up to her for a while, though, if he wanted it to last.

The two of you are sat at the edge of the pool, your feet dangling in the water. It's a good thing the pool is heated, because swimming in late November in Connecticut and dying as a result of freezing to death really wasn't his life plan. He looks at you, playing with the edge of the sweatshirt you'd borrowed from him when you'd first come over to Julian's room where the two of them had been hanging out. You'd persuaded them to come out with you and had asked to borrow something to throw on top since it was freezing outside. The Columbia law school hoodie enveloped you completely, nearly at your knees.

"What's going on with you lately?" he asks, turning towards the house and seeing the lights go on in your father's study, indicating that Julian had started raiding the alcohol.

"Well, high school sucks like you said it would," you reply with a bitter note to your voice. He knew that you hated going to boarding school and had thrown a fit when your parents had decided to send you. Neither Dom nor Julian had gone to boarding school, and you'd protested against it vehemently. However, your father hadn't wanted to leave you on your own in Connecticut and with him traveling so much and your mother being away as well, they wanted to give you a semblance of structure. He wasn't sure if he agreed with it either - he knew you'd be much happier going to Hopkins like the rest of them had rather than go boarding school hopping to whichever continent your father decided to have business in that year.

"Have you at least made new friends this time?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "If by friends, you mean guys named Brad who ask me out and then when I say no, they go and tell the entire school I slept with them, then sure yeah. I've made friends."

He raises his eyebrows at that. There wasn't a chance Julian knew about this, because if he did, Brad would be history.

"What'd you do about that?" he asks, wondering if he needs to go teach this Brad guy a thing or two about how to treat girls right.

"Told anyone who asked, that Brad isn't particularly well-endowed," you tell him, the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

"Good girl."

"I can handle it, it's not that I can't. It's just…I can't wait to be in college and not have to worry about this sort of crap."

He hums in agreement. College really was the great equalizer - or as much as it can be when everyone has the exact same blue blood upbringing as you do. He'd tried to make friends that weren't from his usual circles back when he'd done undergrad at Princeton and had hit it off with a few kids on scholarship. It was difficult however, when they either wanted to pay their own way or wouldn't let him help out. Made things awkward.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask. He notices that your fingers fidget with the ends of his sweatshirt - he's always found that little tell of yours endearing.

"Of course."

"I'm the last girl in my year to not have kissed anyone. Even Siena Robertson made out with Jacob Pemberley on the soccer field right before the break, so now I'm the last one left."

You look miserable admitting that and he feels for you - being a teenager and feeling like you're behind on stuff like that is its own brand of misery.

"It'll happen when the time is right," he says, hoping that's of some relief. However, even he knows how hollow his words sound. They're likely of little solace when you're a fifteen year old girl stuck feeling like there's something wrong with you for not having achieved these milestones.

He looks over at you and you had an odd look on your face, as though you're conflicted with something and struggling to really put your thoughts into words. He nudges you with his shoulder, moving his head up as if to ask, What else is going on in that head of  yours?

"I don't want my first kiss to be some guy named Brad," you admit, not looking at him, instead staring resolutely into the pool. The chilly air outside blows your hair ever so slightly, and he watches it move rather than look at you.

"Who do you want it to be?" he asks quietly.

You turn to him, your doe eyes wide with the hint of tears, biting your lip, and looking at him like you're not sure why he even bothered asking. As if he didn't know.

He feels his heart clench but he forces himself to look away from you, shaking his head as he does. "You're a kid," he says, the hair at the nape of his neck standing straight up as another chilly wind rushes over the both of you, blowing more leaves to the ground in a swirl.

He'd hoped that would be it. That you'd realize the absurdity of what you're saying.

"Please John." You plead, your hand reaching for his, sending a shiver down his spine. Your fingers are like icicles and he can't help himself from wrapping your hand in his, if only to warm it up.

"Julian would kill me," he tells you, wondering why that was the only thing he could think of to say to you. There's other reasons of course - it's wrong, so very wrong. He's a grown man and you're a kid. You deserve to have your first kiss be someone who you love - at least puppy love. Not like this.

"Julian doesn't have to know."

His jaw clenches as he looks down at you, your eyes fixed at where his hand is holding yours.

"Please," you try again, squeezing his hand to force him to meet your eyes. "Please don't let my first kiss be some guy named Brad."

He knows what you're saying. Don't let your first kiss mean nothing. Don't let it be meaningless and awful and only because you don't want to feel behind the rest of your classmates. Because he knows, that if this is how you feel already, you won't waste any time to make sure you're up to the mark, the second you get back to school. It would be rushed and sloppy and some kid named Brad would go around the school telling everyone he'd managed to snag you, and this time he wouldn't be lying.

He didn't want that for you. You deserved better.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he turns to look back at the study - the lights are still on, meaning Julian still hasn't left. The next second he's moved his hand out of your grasp, only to wrap it around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his head bent down to capture your lips with his, swallowing your surprised noise. Soft, plush, pliant, perfect. It's a quick press of lips on lips. Chaste, almost, if it weren't for the fact that he'd practically grabbed you like a rag doll, nearly to his lap. He won't take it further, though. He shouldn't. He moves away on a sigh. Your eyes are closed, your long lashes kissing your cheeks, your face illuminated by the moonlight.

"Thank you," you breathe out, your eyes still closed.

He knows he'll remember this moment forever.

There's the sound of the back door opening, and the two of you quickly move away from one another. Your eyes meet his and you smile just barely at him and he has a hard time not smiling back.

Julian returns, bottle of scotch in one hand and a bottle of Moët in the other. You refuse to drink scotch still, insisting it burns too much, so the champagne is always for you.

*------------*

It’s over a year later when he finds himself in Connecticut once again. His mother had asked him why he’d come just for cotillion season, and he tells her he'd missed her and his father and wanted to see them before buckling down for finals. He can't tell them the truth. That you'd called and asked him to.

"You know, it is quite unfair for you to have gotten to dance with me at your cotillion, but for me to be denied the same pleasure at mine," you'd said when you'd called him.

His face had split into a grin as he stood up to take your call, leaving his date sitting by herself. His mother had set him up with Arthur Cafferty's daughter who was studying fashion at NYU. Needless to say, the two of them had nothing in common and after three dates with the girl, he had really only asked her out this final time to break it off nicely.

"When is it?" he'd asked, taking his planner out of his bookbag. He hadn't even bothered to go home and change for this date. One would think the girl would take a hint and realize he wasn't interested.

You told him the date and he said he'd make it work. Your resulting squeal was so high pitched, he had to move the phone away from his ear.

"You're sure it's not too much trouble?" you ask, once your initial excitement wears off.

"Anything for my future wife," he jokes. "I am nothing if not a loving and doting husband."

Your twinkling laugh carried him through the misery of breaking up with the Cafferty girl.

He'd pushed off a couple of study groups, spoken to his Tort Law professor about making up the in-class debate he would miss, and caught the train up from the city. Julian had flown back from Europe, and the two of them had tagged along with you and your mother to your final dress fitting so that they could get their tux fittings done at the same time. The seamstress had you try on your dress and you looked like a ball of cotton, the swathes of tulle falling around you. You'd patiently stood while the lady made some last minute adjustments, both him and Julian poking fun at you while she did.

Once your mother left to go deal with the payment, you quickly moved to get out of the dress, grabbing another with you on the way into the fitting room. The seamstress dragged him and Julian up onto the fitting platforms next, tutting about them both having grown far too much since the last time. He detects movement in the mirror he's standing in, and you've emerged wearing another dress. He turns towards you, taking it in.

This dress flows down to your feet, draping against you as if it was made for you. As you take a step forward, his eye is caught by the deep slit to the side which exposes your leg with your movement. You know he's watching, so you turn for his benefit, revealing that there's no back to this dress. There's just the smooth skin of your back, fully exposed - his eyes wander down, catching the visible dimples at your lower back. He has to take a second and remind himself that Julian is there too, but you'd seen his reaction - he's sure of it. You'd taken his breath away.

"Mother will obliterate you if she sees you wearing that," Julian warns, moving towards you to help you spin around in it.

As if summoned, your mother reappears, seemingly aghast at your dress, and quickly ushers you away from view. Neither him nor Julian can make out what the two of you are saying, but its obviously an argument. When you emerge, you look entirely put out and he catches your eye, rolling his eyes in sympathy and drawing a small smile from you.

The next night, Julian and him drive you to the venue, dropping you off, before going to meet up with some old friends in the area. You were head debutante and had to coordinate everyone else along with the cotillion Chair, and thus were arriving nearly six hours prior to the event.

It's dark by the time everyone has arrived at your ball. It's decidedly your ball, that much is obvious. You'd had the venue changed from the usual ballroom at the country club to the old Haverford Mansion with its vaulted ceilings and grand staircase. He briefly wonders how you'd managed to swing that - the Chairs are usually older women who rule these events like their life depends on it. Then again, you could charm anyone if you really wanted to.

Julian and him find themselves at a table with both of your families. Dom had brought Katie, who had stuck around despite your mother. You'd handed over the cash to him from that bet happily enough. Katie was great. You didn't think Dom deserved her and you were quite vocal about your opinion.

"Julian, my boy!" John's father exclaims, sitting down across from the two of them, "When's your next show coming?"

"Oh I've only just started on the new collection, Mr. Hawthorne, so not for a while. But I'll be sure to give you first peek when it's ready" Julian tells his father. The Hawthornes made it a point to always grab a piece from any collection Julian painted, his mother fancying herself a patron of the arts.

His mother briefly asks him and Julian why neither of them could ever manage to bring dates to such events and all of their classmates are getting married around them. John of course knew the reason why Julian never brought dates - his dates tend to wear suits instead of ballgowns and it wasn't the kind of attention he wanted brought to his life. Why he never seemed to have a date, however, was a very good question. One that could be answered if anyone were to remember the time he had brought a real date. Lindsey Carlyle had left last Thanksgiving when everyone had congregated at his family's brownstone, in a huff, claiming he wanted to spend more time with a sixteen year old girl rather than her.

"Remind me to tell my sister she owes me for making me sit through another one of these functions around all these people," Julian mutters to him, tugging at his collar.

John stifles a laugh. He was sure Julian would think of some manner of having you make it up to him - likely by simply having you spend the summer with him gallivanting around Europe. Julian didn't have it in him to truly be upset with you.

"I don't know how she talked you into coming, but she's had you whipped forever, so I guess I'm just glad I'm not here alone."

He rolls his eyes, elbowing Julian. It's no secret that he lets you boss him around - always has, ever since you were little.

Everyone quiets down as the music begins and the Chair comes to announce each girl. He knew you'd be last, being the head. To the side, all of the dates are standing, awaiting the arrival of the girls. Your father is upstairs, with the other fathers to the right of the staircase. One by one the girls are called, the Chair talks about each of their accomplishments as she announces them and their fathers walk them down the steps, to be handed off to the teenage boys in tuxes.

The music changes as it's your turn prompting him and Julian to exchange a look.

"Does the head deb usually get different music?" he leans over to ask Julian.

Julian shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly together in a way that John can tell he's trying hard not to smile and incur his mother's wrath.

The Chair begins to list your litany of accomplishments as your father walks out from the right and awaits you. He sees you emerge, and a collective hush falls over the crowd. You aren't wearing one of the regulation cotillion dresses like every girl before you. You're wearing the dress that had taken his breath away yesterday. There's a smirk planted quite firmly on your face as your father takes your hand and helps you float down the stairs.

John is positive your father's grip on you had been iron tight in reaction to your dress. Your date - a boy named William who John knew only vaguely - looks elated however. He helps you onto the dance floor and the music changes once again, with all of the couples dancing. John sees Julian's fists tighten as William's hands sit a little lower on your back than they should, and your father doesn't bother coming to the table, instead making a beeline to the bar.

"She's insane," Julian whispers out of the corner of his mouth, the both of them watching you with some amount of awe. No one did this at a cotillion. No one.

"I'll buy you that brush set you've been eyeing if your mother manages to drink less than five vodka sodas tonight," he tells Julian, the two of them grinning at one another.

Your mother throws a glare at the both of them as she knocks back her drink.

"No deal," Julian whispers back. "I'm going to lose that in the next ten minutes."

Turning their attention back towards you, they both watch as you twirl around in William's arms. The first dance is endless and at some point your father made it back to the table, carrying a drink in each hand. Your mother gets up when your father returns, the two of them having a quick, quiet exchange, at which Julian rolls his eyes.

However, as the second song draws to a close, John finds himself standing and making his way towards you. It really should be your father or one of your brothers cutting in for the first time, but he figures he should spare you their reactions as long as possible. He reaches you and William, towering over the boy as he approaches, and taps him on the shoulder to cut in. William appears a little annoyed but still hands you over, turning to walk to the sidelines.

He turns to look at you - you're sporting a smirk a mile wide, your eyes twinkling. You're pleased he was the one who cut in first.

"What a surprise seeing you here, Mr. Hawthorne," you drawl, humor coloring your voice.

"Well, I had to make sure I danced with the prettiest girl at the ball, now didn't I?" he replies, reaching for your hand and placing his other to your waist. You jump ever so slightly at the touch of his warm fingers against your skin and he has to disguise his laugh as a slight cough. When you place your other hand to his shoulder, it was as though an electric current ran through him.

The music transitions seamlessly and he draws you close into a waltz. He's highly aware that the two of you have nearly a hundred eyes on you and he can tell you're loving it.

"Are all the biddies clutching their pearls in horror?" you ask him.

"Why'd you pick this dress?" he asks, instead of answering your question. You already knew the answer.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

He nods. He had liked it. However, that didn't answer his question, so he looks at you, eyebrow quirked, imploring you to explain further.

With a slight roll of your eyes, you huff delicately. "I'm tired of being the good girl, the perfect girl. I wanted to turn some heads. I think we can both agree that I have."

"Your mother is going to kill you," he murmurs next to your ear, a smirk matching yours on his face. You had indeed turned heads. Some more than others.

"Oh please. Did you know, yesterday, she told me that I was far too chubby to wear a dress like this."

He starts to disagree with that assessment - you were anything but and the dress fit you like a glove as though it were commissioned for you.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "She's just upset she can no longer pull off something like this."

He laughs at that.

He twirls and spins you out, before catching you in his arms again.

"You look beautiful," he tells you looking right into your eyes, as though compelled to.

The faintest of colors graces your cheeks and you look bashfully (for the first time that night) away from him, smiling.

"Thank you."

The music changes again and he's almost worried that someone is going to steal you away from him, yet no one does. He meets Julian's eye above your head, and his friend looks to be talking his parents down from making a scene. Julian gives him an exasperated look as though to say, You see what I put up with because of her.

He looks back at you, shaking his head. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"You love trouble," you tell him, your eyes shining, smirking up at him.

He can't help himself from smirking right back. "You're a tease," he whispers back his fingers caressing your back, before he can catch himself. You're too young, even though you may not look it anymore.

As though sensing his change in mood, you lean up to him, reaching his ear. "Don't worry. I know that we can't. That you can't."

He looks down at you, meeting your gaze, reassured that you understand. He nods, smiling his gratitude that you understand. He can't have this seem in any way improper. He's set to take the bar. He's set to clerk for McGuire. However your quiet words have their desired effect, and he can feel himself relaxing, comfortably dancing with you in his arms.

As he continues to lead you around the dance floor, he's becoming convinced of one thing - if tonight is anything to go on, he's going to want to fulfill his end of the deal.

*------------*

After your cotillion, he'd gone back and started studying for the bar - head down night after night. He couldn't afford distractions.

He got a call the day you got your Harvard acceptance letter. You received a bouquet of dahlias and a shipment from Laduree the following day, much to the collective jealousy of every one of your dormmates.

The day he passed the New York state bar, you were his first phone call.

You were graduating. You were graduating and you would be an adult in the eyes of your families and the law. The two of you had already planned an entire summer country hopping across Southeast Asia with Julian in tow. John would be lying if he said he was anything less than ecstatic.

Julian had uncharacteristically offered to pick him up from Heathrow instead of simply sending a car. Assuming he wanted to talk through the details of the trip the three of you were headed out to the following week, John threw his bag into the back cheerfully and got into the passenger seat. Europe was the only place he trusted Julian to drive. Getting in the passenger seat with Julian at the wheel in the states was the equivalent of signing a death wish.

"How was the flight?" Julian asks, merging across the lanes and pissing off some cabbies on the way.

"Fine," John replies, taking stock of his friend. He hadn't seen Julian since the cotillion early in the year and he couldn't help but notice that Jules looked thinner. His already lanky frame was positively beanstalk-like. "What's been up with you?"

Julian glances at him quickly, before turning his attention back to the front. "Anthony and I broke up," he says quickly, as if simply trying to get it out of the way.

Well, that explained the weightloss. Julian was a true artist at his core. He insisted that pain was meant to be felt. "I'm sorry man. What happened?"

"He took me to meet the parents. Then he wanted to meet mine. We fought. He issued an ultimatum. Here we are."

John nods sympathetically. Telling the parents was out of the question. Neither of your families were the kind who would be supportive and understanding. Julian stood to lose quite a bit if he chose to be honest.

"Y/N noticed too," he says, referring to his own frame.

"You should tell her at least." This was an old discussion for them. John insisted that you should know. That you wouldn't care nor tell anyone. However, Julian's fear - fear of losing you and fear of being ousted - overpowered any rationale he was able to provide.

Julian shakes his head. "Pretty sure my father has got his claws deep in there by now. I just told her I was doing an experiment on the body's reaction to starvation in order to channel it into my new piece."

John breathes out a laugh at that. "She buy it?"

"No, but our family's good at the whole Don't Ask Don't Tell thing. Pretty sure she's got secrets of her own she doesn't want anyone to know."

He nods, feeling the guilty coil of lying to Julian rouse itself once again. He'd beat himself up about it quite a bit after he'd kissed you by the pool, knowing Julian would kick the absolute shit out of him if he knew. He might not be able to take John on physically, but it wasn't as though John would be fighting back exactly.

"Speaking of," Julian begins, his voice low and quiet, yet assertive in a manner that reminds John of your father and his, "we need to talk about her."

John crosses his eyes over to look at his friend, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He couldn't possibly know anything. "What about her?" he asks, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

"Don't do that with me man. You might think you're fooling the rest of the world, but you're talking to someone whose entire life is a lie. You think I don't know pining when I see it?" Julian sounds less angry than he should, John thinks. If anything he sounds resigned. Reluctant to be having this conversation at all.

"I'm sor -"

"It doesn't matter." Julian cuts him off. "I don't care if something happened. What I need you to do is promise me that nothing ever will."

"I don't - "

"Let me make it as plain as possible," Julian says, his mouth a straight line, hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. "It's me or her. You choose to pursue this thing, take it any further, then that's it. You'll have made your choice."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Never - not when he'd first kissed you, not when he'd danced with you, not when he'd dreamed of… - had he thought that there would be a chance of him being at this point. This awful point where he's forced to choose between you and Julian. How was he supposed to choose between his best friend and you - how could he possibly be expected to make that decision. He never thought Julian of all people would ask this of him. He expected a beating, a cold shoulder for a couple of days - but at the end he expected it to work out. How could it not?

"So you're issuing an ultimatum?" he asks, swallowing the anger he can feel bubbling underneath.

Julian doesn't even turn to look at him. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"Just because you're miserable, you're setting out to make everyone else around you feel the same way?" he asks, ugly malice coloring his voice as he turns to look away from Julian. He couldn't stand to look at him at this moment.

"Don't make this about something it isn't. I'm looking out for my baby sister. She deserves to have a college experience that isn't tied to some older guy that's only going to make her feel guilty about experiencing the same stuff he did, but tenfold."

"I wouldn't do that to her," John says quietly. He can't believe Julian would even think that about him. That he would in some way hold you back from having anything you wanted.

"You might not, but she'd do it to herself for you," he says quietly. John can see his hands tremble ever so slightly at the wheel.

"So that’s it?"

"Yeah." Julian breathes out a sigh and turns down the street towards your school. "That's it."

The rest of the car ride passes in tense silence.

You were valedictorian, the cord hanging down your neck signifying you as such. When you'd told him that, he'd asked if you were giving a speech but you'd told him you could care less about standing up in front of people you're unlikely to see again and talking about the wonderful experiences and memories - it rang of fakery and you hadn't wanted to end on such a false note. You'd excused yourself from consideration, so the class president gave the speech instead.

John sat with your family. Julian's words still rang in his head and he was finding it difficult to focus on much of anything. He followed everyone else's lead, clapping when appropriate, while his mind was miles away.

Once the ceremony was over, he sees you making your way through the crowd towards everyone - eyes shining, hat askew, hair flowing behind you, the largest smile he's ever seen firmly in place. You hug your parents first, then Julian.

"John!"

You approach him for a hug and he finds himself turning just barely to meet Julian's eyes. He hugs you from the side, arm loosely around your shoulders, eyes barely meeting yours - over before he knows it. Completely unlike any other hug the two of you have shared.

You let go slowly, the confusion clearly painted on your face as you look up at his face to figure out what was wrong. He sees you look from him, follow his gaze to Julian, and then back to him.

You know.

He's not sure how he gets through the celebration dinner afterwards. Words sit oddly in his mouth and he is mostly silent throughout. He can't keep himself from watching you. You're pretending everything is fine. It's your graduation and this should've been a good day. A happy day. And somehow he's pushed you into pretending.

It's late that night when there's a quiet knock at his door and the knob turns before he can say anything. He knows it’s you.

"Hey," you say, closing the door behind you. You're dressed in a little pajama set - navy blue with polka dots, the shorts covering you decently. It's cute, he finds himself thinking.

He gets up to sit at the edge of the bed, not trusting himself to say anything. He only watches as you walk and sit on the chair in the corner, instead of on the bed next to him, eyes trained on him.

"Julian said no, didn't he?" you ask, your voice smaller than he's used to.

He nods.

You're sitting so far away. He sees you swallow and look away from him.  It's quiet for a couple of minutes as you look out the window, processing what he's told you.

"Maybe it's for the best," you whisper, turning back to look at him.

How could the best be anything but you?

But it's his job to be the adult - to be the reasonable one. He can't deny that there's some merit to what Julian said even if he did do it as an ultimatum.

"You'll get to enjoy college. Live it up. Go to frat parties and get drunk and not worry about some older boyfriend waiting on you or judging you."

You laugh softly at that, rolling your eyes delicately. "Please. You and I both know that you'd just tag along."

He smiles. He would.

"You should date other people. You should experience love and heartbreak and all the stuff in between with someone who hasn't known you forever. It'll be new and exciting - you deserve to have a full college experience."

You agree. It makes sense. Especially given the completely different stages of life the two of you were about to embark on.

"Papa asked me to tag along with him this summer - he has some business in Europe and Latin America. I think I'm going to say yes. You and Julian go on the trip. It'll be good for you."

"It's your graduation trip," he protests.

You shrug. "There will be other trips. I think Julian needs you right now more than I do."

"What makes you say that?" he asks, eyebrow quirked in confusion. As far as he knew, Julian hadn't come clean to you yet.

"He said he broke up with some girl - Antoinette, I guess. He's seemed miserable lately and I think he's probably just heartbroken and miserable - he could use his best friend. His best friend who is there just for him."

He finds himself smiling in spite of himself. He's not sure he could've been this unselfish in your shoes. "Anyone ever tell you you're too mature for your age?"

You let out a soft breath of a laugh at that. "Have you met my family? Someone has to be."

He stands finally, walking to meet you at the chair. You look so incredibly small sitting there, that he finds himself kneeling down in front of you. You don't wait, simply launching yourself onto him - making up for the mediocre hug from earlier. You slip off of the chair, legs bent and splayed across his thighs as he catches you. It's all he can do to hold you tight against him, head buried in your hair, breathing you in.

You can feel his heart beating underneath as he holds you close to him. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. It should've been wonderful - the two of you, finally together after months of talking, teasing, overthinking - it should've been easy. He should've grabbed you in his arms in front of everyone and kissed you right then and there - it's how you'd imagined it would go all those nights laying in bed, listening to the sound of your dormmates snoring. That first kiss - that had been everything you'd needed then, the memory of it carrying you through the rest of the school year as you turned away boy after boy, content to live with the mere echo of that kiss reverberating through you.

High school was just something to get through. College was meant to be perfect, freedom, and John. John, who made everything else perfect by simply being there with you. John, who had been the reason you'd kept your head down and done everything asked of you - so that no one could hold anything against you when the inevitability of you and John materialized. The two of you had done everything right. You'd waited. You'd waited and waited until it could be proper, until it would be accepted. It had been torture and the only thing that had carried you through it had been the knowledge that one day very soon, you'd have him.

You can feel your eyes welling up as it really starts to sink in - this wasn't going to happen. You and John were not going to happen.

You shift slightly, moving back from where your head has been tucked into the crook of his neck while you straddle him on the floor. He looks at you, with his deep blue eyes threaded with strands of caramel, that never fail to imbue you with warmth. You reach up to touch his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone, feeling the little stubble that's started to appear. Your eyes leave his and roam to the pink of his lips and before you know it, you've leaned up, capturing them with yours. There is the barest of pauses, before his hold on you tightens exquisitely, pushing you up, closer to him, the barest of growls from the back of his throat as he deepens the kiss. This was entirely unlike your first kiss. John claimed your lips as though he couldn't bear to be apart from them for even a moment, his hands leaving tingles of sensation everywhere they went. You let go with a sharp gasp, and a soft moan escapes him that you can't help but want to taste, as you meet his mouth again, again, and again until you forget if the air you're breathing is even your own.

When you finally leave, it's with a quick goodbye, lips just barely pressed to his cheek. He finds himself reaching up to touch the spot on his face that you'd grazed, hoping to keep it there forever.

*------------*

Dominic had kept all the guys out late the previous night, fully invested in making the most of his final day as a bachelor. John had made it back in one piece, thankfully, but had awoken to a migraine. The water and painkillers left for him on the nightstand serving as his only solace.

He'd had the immense pleasure of meeting Matthew for the first time. He'd heard through the grapevine that you were dating some guy, but Matthew had not been what he expected at all. He was cocky, a showboat, and had an ego the size of Texas. If anything, Matthew was the exact opposite of the kind of guy he'd thought you'd ever date.

You'd come back from college for the weekend wedding, Matthew in tow. The rest of your family was busy with last minute wedding stuff, so John had been tasked with greeting everyone. The Costello family had sent Frank Costello's son to represent the family, and as he happened to go to school with you, he'd also tagged along. You'd walked in, your face scrunched up in exasperation, the two boys trailing behind with the luggage. You'd hugged him quickly before introducing both of the boys, and John had had to control the flash of anger he felt when Matthew wrapped a meaty arm around your waist, squeezing it tight, and hinted at the two of you going to take a nap. You'd seemed a little embarrassed, and tried to laugh it off, but John could tell that had made you uncomfortable.

As you all start to walk down the hallway towards the rooms he's pointed everyone to, Ricky lingers, meeting his eye briefly. "If you're wondering what she sees in him, you're not alone," he says under his breath so only John can hear.

He had a feeling him and Ricky would get along just fine.

His initial impression of Matthew was only confirmed later during the bachelor party that had gone on far too late. He'd told Dominic and Julian that he'd stay more or less sober to make sure there weren't any issues, and had found himself nursing a drink off to the side with Julian and Ricky, watching the women dancing up on the stage. Him and Julian had tried to push for a poker and steak bachelor party, but Dom had gone and rented out an entire burlesque club. The night had simply gone downhill from there, and John was convinced that if any of the wives or girlfriends knew what took place there, there would be more than a couple of broken relationships.

Julian excuses himself after a while, stating the need to grab a smoke, so John is left with Ricky who had turned out to be a good egg. Why couldn't you have dated him? That he could've understood.

Both him and Ricky had looked up as Matthew walks past them, led by some girl. Matthew sees the two of them staring at him. "You'd do it too if your girlfriend didn't put out either," he'd slurred, half drunk as the girl continued to lead him towards the private rooms in the back.

John shares a look of with Ricky. "Good for her," Ricky mutters, his jaw tight, indicating at the bartender for another drink.

Nodding to where they'd seen Matthew disappear, Johns asks, "Is that normal?"

"Couldn't tell you," Ricky replies, "We aren't exactly close. I hear things, but don't really know what to believe."

John forces himself to take a deep breath and remember that it wasn't any of his business to interfere with your relationship. You were an adult and could handle it. If this is how Matthew is, then he doubted you were entirely unaware. He really hoped you weren't. However, that begged the question - why on earth were you with this guy?

He'd gotten dressed in the grey suit that the groomsmen were wearing and gone downstairs to grab breakfast. The ceremony would be taking place in the afternoon, and the entire place was a flurry of activity. He caught a glimpse of you racing down the hallway in a robe, calling out to him to make sure that Dom and Julian were up and ready.

After he'd gone through each guy's room and made sure the entire bridal party was accounted for, he'd ended up doing a couple more last minute things that Katie's mother asked of him. With only an hour before the ceremony, John made his escape, leaving Julian in charge of Dom. He needs a breather.

He finds himself on the upstairs balcony, overlooking the large grass lawn where the chairs are assembled and guests would be arriving soon. Taking out a cigarette, he lights it and takes a drag, feeling his shoulders untense for the first time since he's woken up.

"Are you hiding?"

He turns at the sound of your voice. You're dressed in a blush pink gown that flows to the ground, hair done up - a couple of strands framing your face. You're smiling, the soft smile that graces your face and the sparkle that enters your eyes - the smile he knows that you save for him.

"Hey Cap. What're you doing here?" he asks, smiling softly at you, as you walk towards him.

"Needed a break," you admit. "Katie's great, but her sorority sisters are a bit too much energy for me right now."

He lets out a chuckle at that.

You reach him, grabbing the cigarette easily out of his hand, and bring it to your own lips as you lean against the pillar in front of him with an air of ease.

"How was last night?" you ask him, letting out a puff of smoke, before passing it back to him.

He thinks about your question. Should he warn you about Matthew? Was it his place to do that? He should, he thinks - he'd want to know if he was in your shoes. You deserved to have someone better.

He feels you nudge him, as you shift to lean over the balcony by his side. You're looking at him in question as he's been silent since you asked.

"If I say something, promise not to take it the wrong way?" he asks, hesitation layered in his voice.

Your brow furrows slightly, but you nod, prompting him to go on.

"Matthew - do you like him?"

"Why're you asking me that?"

John swallows as he looks down at you next to him with your eyes narrowed slightly. "He's not as…discreet as he should be," he manages out, doing his best to convey his concern but still keep it polite.

You barely react at that. You either know or don't care and he's willing to bet it’s the former - you would definitely care to have a partner that was considerate and tactful rather than one whose words and actions were circumspect in the public eye.

"Did he say something specific that has you concerned?" You don't meet his eyes, turning to look out at the lawn, where ushers are starting to seat some early guests.

John shifts a bit on his feet, unsure of how to phrase it. "He - um - he said something about you not putting out," he blurts out, stuttering through it like some prepubescent boy. He really shouldn't be feeling quite so awkward about this, and yet he does.

He hears you sigh - then feels you slump slightly and he turns and looks at you, relieved you aren't upset with him and worried all over again because you just look sad.

"I'm just not ready," you confess, looking up at him.

He shakes his head. "You don't owe me an explanation. I just thought you'd want to know, that's all."

You nod, eyes shifting from his, down to the ground.

It's quiet for a bit as the two of you pass the cigarette back and forth, watching more guests arrive and take their seats.

"Do you even like this guy?" he asks, unable to help himself from repeating his initial question. You hadn't answered it really.

You let out the barest of laughs, a sad smile settling on your face as you turn your head to look at him. "He's not you."

John feels his heart clench. The two of you didn't talk about it anymore, having swept it under the rug for Julian's sake and to maintain a semblance of normalcy for everyone else.

"We should go," you say before he has a chance to speak. "Katie will want us both there for pictures soon." You shake your head slightly as if to clear it, and he sees you force a larger smile to your face before you reach for his hand, leading him back inside.

Your hand feels incredibly small in his and he allows himself to be led by you.

The two of you walked down the aisle together, your hand tucked into his elbow, a bouquet held in the other.

He watched you dance late into the night. You danced with everyone - Julian, Ricky, and him, both Dom and Katie, your father and his.

He knocks back his drink as the musicians call for the final song of the night. You and Matthew sway together, your hair still perfectly in place, head rested on Matthew's shoulder, heels long ago shed off and forgotten under some table.

The music swells around him as he drinks slowly. He missed you. He didn't just miss you when he was alone. He missed you when he was surrounded by people. He missed your laugh through the din of laughter. He missed your smile amongst the sea of smiling faces. He missed the little jokes you'd make that were meant just for him. He missed the way your hand would squeeze his out of the blue, reminding him that it was your hand held tightly in his. He missed your very essence that used to bathe him in the feeling of light and air and you. Overwhelmingly you. Extensively you. You had saturated his very being with your presence.

Now, he simply felt bereft.

*------------*

Everyone had just sat down to Thanksgiving dinner at the van Dorens' place - John's parents had been invited to his mother's side of the family and John had begged off spending another holiday with the grandparents he couldn't stand. Say what you would about your families, at least they could have fun and relax when the occasion called for it. He'd instead coordinated his vacation with Julian's return and found himself tagging along to dinner at your boyfriend's parents' home.

That had not been the original plan. Him and Julian had gotten in the day before, however you'd been delayed on campus and hadn't made it back until Thanksgiving morning. You'd walked in, your skirt breezing around your legs, looking every bit as beautiful as ever. You'd greeted everyone and when you'd hugged him hello, you'd held it for a second longer than expected. "Can we talk tonight, after dinner?" you had asked, your voice low so that no one else could've heard. He'd nodded subtly, covering it up with a smile, as everyone sat down to breakfast. That was when your mother had announced that you'd all be going to the van Doren house for Thanksgiving dinner. That was news to everyone - even you, it would appear. You clearly hadn't known that dinner would be hosted at Matthew's home. You'd asked your mother when that had happened, however she'd insisted that that had always been the plan and that you and Julian must've forgotten. That was how he'd found himself seated next to Julian and across from you at the van Doren home. Had he known this would be where he'd end up tonight, he would've suffered through another retelling of his grandfather's World War II recollections about taking down the "Japs". It didn't matter how often John said you couldn't talk like that anymore - his political correctness fell on deaf ears.

The van Dorens had now been present for a few events over the past two years since Dominic and Katie's wedding, yet John hadn't warmed up to Matthew at all in that time. He would've thought he was being biased about it, but Julian didn't like him either and made no effort to be discreet with his distaste of the boy. He wasn't even a boy really. He'd swooped in on an eighteen year old while being a fifth year senior. The guy was barely a couple of years younger than him. John and Julian had both took the mickey out of you when he hadn't managed to get into any decent law school and had to bribe his way into Boston's program because he'd wanted to stay nearby. John was of the opinion that Matthew knew very well that he wouldn't last through anything long distance with you - there'd be far too many options available at your fingertips without his meatball self standing in the way.

A pregnant Katie - who was absolutely glowing - was seated next to you, the two of you chatting about her upcoming baby shower. He'd watched earlier over cocktails, as you touched Katie's stomach gingerly - as though worried you'd hurt her - with the softest of smiles and your eyes widened in awe. It appeared you and Dominic were finally getting along with one another, as you were planning on spending part of your winter holidays with him and Katie out in California.

"John, I heard from Agnes Mayweather that you and Cecelia have been seeing one another again. How is that going?"

John looks up at your mother's question and notes your look of slight surprise. He hadn't yet told you that he had started seeing Cece again - it hadn't been that long and it simply hadn't come up organically in conversation yet. Since his move from DC to New York, he'd been looking for old friends to hang out with, and him and Cece had simply fallen together again easily.

"It's good," he responds with a smile. "Her family does Thanksgiving in Europe every year, so that's where she is right now."

"Who's Cece?" Katie asks, a smile on her face, eyes curious. In her entire time with Dom, she had never seen John mention a girl with any semblance of seriousness.

"His date for cotillion," you supply, a bemused expression on your face. John's not sure what to make of it exactly - were you upset he hadn't told you he was dating someone? Or dating Cece? As far as he knew, you and Cece got along just fine, in the limited interactions you'd had together.

"You must've been like - what - eight or nine then?" Matthew asks from your other side, putting his arm around the back of your chair.

"She was nine, yeah. Only person under the age of sixteen who was even allowed to attend," John says, a small smile on his face as he remembers the sight of your nine year old self, sitting at a table all alone, eating cake and watching everyone else dance.

"You always have liked doing all the grown up things, haven't you?" Matthew comments with a short laugh as you roll your eyes, yet allow him to grab your hand that's been resting on the table.

One day, John hopes that seeing someone else have and hold you won't cause that sharp stabbing feeling in his chest. One day could not come fast enough.

The dinner continues and the drinks flow, the food transitioning from turkey and mashed potatoes, to pies and pastries. He sees the large tray of tiramisu you'd brought with you, and grabs a large square for himself. To say he was addicted would be selling it short. You and Matthew both had a slice of his mother's pumpkin pie in front of you. Funny - he thought you hated pumpkin pie.

The sudden clinking of silverware against glass catches everyone's attention, and John turns to look at Matthew, who is standing, wine glass raised as though to make a toast. Every single person turns to him as well, and John can't help but notice your slightly furrowed brow as you look up at him.

"Thank you all, for being here today," Matthew begins in a booming voice that carries across the long table. "I want to take the chance today and appreciate the woman who has been by my side these past few years, the most beautiful woman I've ever known." All eyes turn to you, and your face has colored under the attention, as Matthew continues. "The day I run for Congress, I want you to be the woman standing behind me, supporting me. Y/N, darling, will you make me the happiest man in the world, by saying yes to being my bride?" he asks, a ring in hand as he looks down at you expectantly.

A tense buzz of silence has fallen across the table at the conclusion of Matthew's speech. You appear to be in shock and he can't tell if it's a good surprise or bad. Julian won't meet his eyes, looking only down at his lap instead of across at you. And, if John isn't mistaken, he sees your father nod imperceptibly so, out of the corner of his eye.

You nod shakily, before a large smile breaks out on your face. "Yes, of course." John watches as Matthew pulls you up out of the chair, pushing the ring onto your finger, and presses a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, as the rest of the table breaks out into excited cheers or claps. John can't believe what just happened. You were only twenty one years old! He couldn't believe you'd agreed to marry Matthew of all people - the guy who had proposed by asking you to stand behind him while he ran for Congress. What the hell was wrong with you?

He turns to look at Julian while the rest of the party offers both you and Matthew their congratulations, Katie examines the giant gaudy ring on your finger, and your mother cries, patting her tears away with a handkerchief. Julian, however, has disappeared in the commotion, and John is left to sit there and take in the new state of the world before him.

It is late that night by the time everyone returns to your family home. There had been a lot of people gushing at you and Matthew, a lot of photographs, however at the end of the day you'd chosen to come home with the rest of them. Your parents weren't particularly keen on you spending the night at your fiancé's home due to the optics, even though everyone of course turned the other way and didn't ask any questions when the two of you traveled together.

Your parents had retired to bed nearly immediately, both of them hugging you and telling you how very proud and happy they were due to your engagement. The rest of you had ended up in the study, where Dom and Katie talked to you about potential wedding venues in the Napa Valley. John listened along and added in comments passively, trying to cover for how completely disengaged Julian was from the conversation. Eventually, the two of them left to go to bed as well, Dom helping his wife up and out of the study, shutting the door behind, leaving just you, John, and Julian in the room.

It's quiet for a while as you get up to fix yourself another drink, eyebrow raised in question at the both of them. John shook his head. He wanted to stick to the single drink he'd been nursing since he had sat down. Julian hadn't noticed your question, having stared straight out the window, to the pool in the backyard.

"Are you really going to marry him?" Julian asks, turning away from the window to face you, breaking the silence.

You appear taken aback as you turn from the bar cart, having poured yourself a vodka soda. "What kind of question is that?"

"A serious one. Tell me honestly, that if he hadn't asked you at Thanksgiving dinner in front of everyone - if he'd asked you last week at school or after the two of you got back to Boston - tell me you would've still said yes then." Julian's turned to face you, both his voice and face intensely directed at you as you're perched on the arm of the chair next to John.

He sees you falter and cover it up by taking a sip of your drink. "I don't know. Who knows what would have happened. I said yes - that's what actually happened. What matters," you reply with a definitive set to your voice, unable to look Julian in the eye for longer than a second.

John turns to you fully. That wasn't the right answer to that question - it should've been an enthusiastic, no holds barred yes. Instead it was…whatever that was.

"You know his mother flinches whenever his father walks by her, right?" Julian asks, exchanging a look with John as he does. They'd talked about that before, how Mrs. van Doren seems terrified of her husband in a manner entirely unfamiliar to the both of them. Their mothers didn't cower from their fathers that way.

You appraise them both before you speak. "I'm not her and Matthew is not his father," you state firmly. "That is my future family, and you shouldn't speak about them like that," you declare, as though trying to steer the conversation to a close. John can tell you'd been aware of that - you've always been fairly observant so he isn't entirely surprised.

Julian stands up all of a sudden, causing both of you to look at him curiously. He walks to the window, looking out at the backyard before he speaks again. "You do realize that the dinner with the van Dorens - Mother lied. That wasn't always the plan. It only became the plan yesterday because it was decided that Matthew would propose to you tonight."

"Okay…so what? My boyfriend decided to propose to me. What's the big deal?" Both you and John look at one another in confusion, and then at Julian, prompting him to speak further.

"Did you notice that Papa and Mr. van Doren went off to his study for drinks afterwards? That Dom wasn't invited?" Julian asks, head still facing the backyard.

You stand up, setting your drink down on the table, and cross your arms over your chest. "What're you getting at Julian? Just come right out and say whatever it is you're trying to say."

Julian turns away from the window finally, instead choosing to lean against it, facing you. "He made the Singapore deal with them. With the van Dorens. Matthew proposing to you was part of the exchange."

There's a tense silence and John can hear you take a sharp inhale as you process what Julian had just revealed. "The only reason he'd need the van Dorens for Singapore is if - is if you said no to the Waldorf girl," you speak hesitantly, your breathing more shallow than before. John notices your hand twist the ring around your finger.

Julian says nothing.

"You said no? Why would you do that?" You slowly walk towards Julian, where he still stands near the window. John feels like he should leave, but there really wasn't an easy way to do that now. "This is the third girl Julian," you continue softly. "Mother and Papa wouldn't set you up with someone awful. They'd find someone who would be there for you, by your side."

Julian scoffs, brushing past you and going to stand at the other side of the room, opposite you, his face contorted with disbelief. "That's what you're focused on? The fact that I said no? Not the fact that your father SOLD you?" he yells suddenly, and John worries someone in the house will wake up and overhear this conversation.

You look as though he'd slapped you. "Don't - don't say it like that." Your voice breaks pathetically, and John has the immediate urge to tell off Julian for talking to you that way. But he knows better. He should stay out of it. In truth, he really shouldn't be present at all.

"How else am I supposed to phrase it?" Julian sneers at you, throwing his arms up. "He sold you like you were property - like a whore he could pimp out to sweeten to pot. Is that better?" he spits out, fully enraged and pacing towards you.

John pushes up from his seat quickly, fully set to calm Julian down and get him away from you. This wasn't the way to do this, even if Julian was telling the truth. He's stopped however, but your hand grasping his wrist. He turns and sees you shake your head.

Julian turns to look at the both of you, his eyes focused on where your hand is wrapped around John's wrist. "What about John?" he asks, his eyes shifting down, away from you. "Thought you wanted to end up with him one day," he says, gesturing at your joined hands.

You let go of John's wrist as though it had scalded you. There's a charged silence ringing in his ears and John cannot believe Julian had brought that up. It had been four long years and you'd both tried very hard to move past it. John's suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. How had they come to this? It should have been about helping you see that maybe Matthew wasn't entirely right - how had his name gotten dragged into it?

Your jaw has dropped as you look at Julian, eyes widened in shock. You let out a breath of disbelief, shaking your head, at a complete loss for words. The three of you did not talk about that, ever. You and Julian especially had never even acknowledged it.

You open your mouth to say something, but John beats you to it. "What the hell, man." He's looking at Julian in complete shock is heart racing - the two of them had never talked about it afterwards save for that one drunken night in Barcelona when Julian had apologized for being selfish and wanting to have his friend all to himself. John had ended up reassuring him that the two of you had made the decision together, and the timing of it all, the different stages of life you had been about to embark on, all would've made things too difficult. Had things not worked out between the two of you due to the circumstances alone - neither one of you could bear to do that to the other. What Julian had done was likely for the best. Julian hadn't remembered any part of the conversation the following morning.

Julian appears slightly ashamed as he is unable to meet both of your eyes, realizing that he'd crossed a line.

You're trying very hard to maintain your composure and John can see the shimmer of tears glazing your eyes. It's quiet for a moment more as he watches you gather your wits about you, your hands shaking ever so slightly, the only sound in the room coming from both your forced controlled breathing and Julian's erratic ones.

"Let me make something perfectly clear to you," you grit out, eyes fiery and blazing at Julian. "You, of all people, do not get to throw that in my face. You made your decision four years ago, and so did we." Your voice is cold and John feels a shiver run through him at a cold fury that isn't even directed fully at him. You look from Julian, to John, who meets your eyes for barely a second, before looking away. You'd both chosen Julian over one another.

Julian looks only at the ground.

What had been the point of Julian saying no to the two of you four years ago if he was going to suddenly be alright with it in the face of you marrying Matthew? However, it seemed as though you didn't even care about that - you'd simply brushed past it already and John is left reeling, thinking through the implications of what both you and Julian had put out there. Julian didn't care. Unfortunately for him, it appeared neither did you.

"If you'd just say yes - " he hears your voice again, through the din in his head that is trying to make sense of everything,  as you carry on, still intent on talking to Julian, intent on ignoring what he'd just brought up as if it meant so little. John isn't sure how you possibly could ignore it - he hasn't been able to think of anything else since, Julian's words echoing over and over in his brain.

"To marrying someone I do not love? For some business deal? Ruin my life for that?" he roars at you snapping out of his silent shame, swiping his hand across one of the end tables and sliding the old lamp off of it. The three of you watch as it crashes to the floor and breaks, emitting a crash. You flinch when it hits the floor.

John turns to you and there are silent tears streaming down your face as you stare at Julian in utter shock. It's gone too far - this whole thing. John feels like a voyeur - like he's intruding on his parents breaking up or something.

"For the family!" you scream, your voice a whispered shout as you're still mindful of how late it is. Far more so than Julian had been. "You do it for the family Julian! I did it for you when I gave you John, because you needed him. You were asked to do something that helps the family, you should've just done it. You don't just run away and ignore all responsibility and obligation. You step up, be a man, and do what's asked of you."

Julian looks at you with disgust coloring his features. "Well excuse me if I have a little more self respect than that," he says, entirely bypassing what you'd said about John as though you had never even said it at all. It was as though he didn't even care - didn't realize - how awful and heartbreaking of a sacrifice he'd forced upon you. And yet, you'd done it - for him.

You look away from him, and John can feel the frustration and anger cascading off of you in waves, tinged by something else he can't quite discern, but he thinks it might be…fear. "How much longer do you expect Papa to let you get away with this? He isn't exactly known for being patient. Sooner or later there will be repercussions. He's been lenient long enough." Your voice is hoarse as you swallow your tears and fury.

You're all aware of your father's reputation - cold, calculating, and merciless. You all know the kind of person Julian was choosing to challenge and while his wrath towards his children had its limits, it had quite a stretch of runway before it reached its end. Julian was playing with fire by continuing on his current path.

Julian appraises you and appears to consider your words, before his eyes land on the large ring adorning your hand, reinvigorating the fight within him. "Then I suppose I'll wait till that day. Until then, I won't just lie down and spread my legs for whomever," he jeers at you.

"Enough." John's finally reached his limit with the entire argument, his jaw clenched tightly and a thunder-struck expression marring the rest of his features as he fully comprehends how far Julian has strayed. "You can't talk to her that way," he states firmly, positioning himself between the two of you.

Julian looks at him, a manic glint in his eyes. A derisive laugh escapes him, bouncing off the walls. "Didn't realize she still did it for you. Isn't twenty one a little old for your tastes?"

"FUCK OFF, Julian." You can scarcely believe him. How could he talk to John like that?

"With pleasure," he scoffs, looking from you, to John, and then turns the knob on the door and slams it shut behind him, leaving just you and John standing in the study by yourselves.

John watches as you pull yourself together. He wants to go to you and hold you and tell you that Julian was just being a dick. But part of him agrees with Julian - especially if he's telling the truth about how it all came together. Part of him also feels the sting of what Julian implied about him despite how untrue it is. So he holds himself apart as the two of you stare at one another in the wake of the deafening silence left behind by Julian's exit.

John watches as you wipe away the remaining tears and bend to gather the broken pieces of the lamp, sweeping away the evidence of Julian's rage. You walk and grab the lamp sitting in the far corner of the room, replacing the broken one. John can do nothing but watch.

"Why did you say yes?" he asks finally, unable to stop himself.

You blink, not having expected that from him and he watches as you bite your lower lip between your teeth, quietly thinking over his question, your fingers twisting the ring around your finger in earnest. Your tongue pokes out and licks the spot your teeth had worried moments earlier. He feels entirely scrutinized under your gaze. With a short exhale, you answer, "Because he asked."

Before he can say anything more, you've followed Julian's example and walked out the door, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the study.

He never did find out what it had been that you'd wanted to talk to him about after dinner. The next morning it was as though nothing had transpired at all. You and Julian weren't speaking, and John found he had very little to say himself.

*------------*

Julian had flown out to Boston the week after you'd left. John had figured the two of you would make up eventually, and he was glad he hadn't been wrong about that, though he and Julian had argued once again about him simply telling you the truth of why he kept turning away set ups with women. Julian was staunchly against it still, even more so now that you'd agreed to marry Matthew and didn't appear to be wavering in your decision at all. The two of them simply didn't address anything else Julian had said, and John decided that was likely for the best.

The holidays had passed uneventfully - he'd spent it mostly with Cece, only seeing you and Julian the day after Christmas when everyone gathered at your parents' home to exchange presents and for everyone to meet baby Amara. He watched as you sat in the large chair in the living room, holding Amara in your hands as she slept, Matthew perched on the arm of the chair. He can't help but smile - you'd be a good mother, even if yours hadn't been.

The call regarding Julian's death had come in mid-February, Dom on the other end telling him that Julian had been victim to a mugging gone wrong. The funeral had been held back in Connecticut, Julian's body shipped back. Your parents had opted for a closed casket, so John was left to remember December 26th - the last time he'd seen his best friend in person.

His eyes searched for you at the funeral, and when he saw you, it was as though you weren't even there. Your father had been the one to stand and speak - he would've thought it would be you. Julian would've preferred that, he was sure. He'd gone through the line of people offering their condolences robotically, inching along behind his father. As he approached, he sees your eyes look up - first at his father, who hugs you quickly, and then at him. He can't move. He's frozen. He sees your lower lip tremble - he hadn't yet seen you shed a single tear - you'd stood stoically by to your parents the entire prior hour and a half that he'd observed you.

It's as though he moves on autopilot, his hand reaching out for yours - it was good that he had, as you had nearly tripped forward into him, your arms wrapped tiredly around his shoulders. He's quick to usher you away, into the back room where Sunday School classes are typically held.

Your body shakes against him in silent sobs as tears cascade down. He's unsure how, but the two of you had ended up on the brightly patterned carpet of the classroom, his legs spread out in front of him and you're situated on his lap as close to his chest as possible as your body is wracked with sobs. He clutches you tightly to him, holding you close and allowing you to fall apart the way you needed to. He'd hold it together for the both of you.

When his mother peaks in to the room, he signals her away. It was likely due to her that no one else bothers the two of you again. You say nothing and neither does he. When you finally calm down, his fingers brush away the remaining tears on your face and he feels you reach up and do the same to him. He hadn't realized he'd cried as well.

He helps you up and the two of you walk out. He watches as you approach Matthew, who wraps an arm around your shoulder and looks at him with what could almost be classified as gratitude. Matthew wasn't equipped to deal with this.

*------------*

He hears you'd been in an accident only a month or so afterwards. He's in the middle of a deposition and unable to go in person. He hears from his mother that you'd gone through some surgery but were otherwise alright. There was something in her voice that gave him some pause, but he hadn't had the time to press further.

He sent a bouquet of dahlias along with a Get Well Soon card.

*------------*

You're set to graduate and he's not sure if he should go. His father had asked him over a few weeks prior and told him that Julian's death hadn't been accidental. He didn't know what to believe anymore.

He doesn't go. He's not quite ready to see you again yet.

Julian was dead. What was there really to do?

*------------*

"So eventually, the guy calms down enough after I explain that the fire alarm on the gallery wall wasn't an art piece and not for sale, but only after he made poor Lucille cry, can you believe it?"

John laughs, shaking his head. "Lucille's easy to make cry though, you have to admit." he says, handing Cece the glass of wine he'd just poured.

She laughs, and is about to launch into another story, as the doorbell rings. "I'll get it," she says, leaving him in the kitchen to finish loading the dishwasher.

A minute or so later, he hears footsteps and turns to see Cece, followed by you. He hadn't seen you since Julian's funeral, and there you stood in his kitchen, entirely soaked from the rain outside, having dripped water on the floors on your way in.

"Y/N said she needed to speak with you," Cece supplies, breaking him out of the stupor his brain had entered at the sight of you. "I think I'm going to head out, let the two of you talk."

John simply nods, not thinking to ask her to stay or even thank her. The two of you stare at one another, and he finds himself entirely uncomfortable being alone with you, for the very first time.

"Let me grab you a towel," he manages, indicating you towards the couch in the living room. He walks to the linens cabinet in the back and by the time he returns, you've shed your jacket and are facing away from him in a light tank top, revealing your shoulders and a large fading bruise off to one side.

He wordlessly hands you the towel and watches as you squeeze the water out of your hair, wet tendrils clinging to the side of your face. You still haven't spoken a single word and he finds himself at a loss to say much of anything. He knows you graduated a couple of weeks prior and he knows his father had attended, not wanting to miss his god daughter's graduation ceremony. He wonders briefly if his father had decided to enlighten you as to the true nature of Julian's death, and comes to the conclusion that he had. Why else would you be there?

"How'd that happen?" he asks, breaking the silence as you had turned away from him to slip out of your boots, indicating towards the bruise he'd seen.

You look over your shoulder at him with your eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't worry about it." you reply, turning around and holding up your hand, showing him your empty ring finger. "Waited till Singapore was a done deal, and I ended it."

John lets out a deep breath of disbelief. Matthew had hurt you so much that you had a bruise traversing the length of your upper back. What the hell had he done to you? He can feel the rage and surge of protectiveness that he typically feels around you, storming in his head, and as though you could sense his shift, you place a feather light touch to his arm. "It's alright. I'm fine. Ricky already broke his nose."

That doesn't cause him to worry any less whatsoever. Things had been so bad that Ricky had broken the bastard's nose. A rogue snort escapes him regardless, as he tries to calm himself. Now wasn't the time to get riled up about Matthew - especially if he was history. "Always did like that Ricky kid," he says instead, in an attempt to not slip back into silence. The silence had been wildly uncomfortable and now that it had been broken, he was intent on keeping it that way.

You're toweling off your wet hair as you watch him, your eyes appraising him and then turning to look around at his place. He saw his loft through your eyes - the exposed brick and open floorplan. His bed off to the other side, sheets still rumpled from when Cece had been over. It had been his attempt to tone down his lifestyle - girls got odd ideas when he'd take them back to the company owned apartment he'd stayed in the first couple of months after his internship wrapped with McGuire.

"Really bought into the whole Brooklyn hipster thing, didn't you?" you say, your tone colored with a hint of humor he hadn't expected.

John lets out a half laugh, knowing it wasn't quite your taste. Whatever had brought you to his door despite the pouring rain outside seemed far away at the moment.

"You want something to drink? Eat?" he asks, gesturing you over to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water and sets it on the counter for you.

You follow, hopping onto the island as he busies himself with putting the dishes away again, knowing you'll talk once you're ready. It's quiet for a couple of minutes - the only sounds coming from the rain outside and the movement from him working his way through the rest of the load. He looks outside, feeling a small bit of guilt for letting Cece leave in this weather. He'd have to make it up to her later.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask finally, as he puts the final plate in and shuts the dishwasher.

The question finally vocalized was far less angry than anticipated. He’d expected fury and rage raining down upon him for keeping the truth from you. He’d expected having to beg for your forgiveness. This quiet line of questioning felt alarmingly wrong to him. John turns, leaning against the opposite counter, his shoulders hunched together, arms crossed in front of his chest. You're still seated on the island, legs dangling, palms pressed into the granite, knuckles tensed around the edge. He looks up to meet your eyes and his voice catches as he does - you've dropped the veil you'd worn when you first arrived, revealing the unbridled pain underneath. Glassy eyes follow his, searching for some sort of answer - some explanation that would help make sense of your world that had been turned upside down.

"I -," he sighs deep, trying to gather his thoughts all together but they keep slipping out of his hands like sand. "I didn't think you'd - you'd believe me or what good it would do," he manages out, unable to look up at you, instead settling for fixing his gaze to where Matthew's ring used to sit. There was still a white ring there, the surrounding skin a couple of shades darker.

You're silent in the face of his confession. He hadn't wanted to be the one to turn your life upside down. He hadn't wanted to be the reason you questioned everything. He should've. He knows that. He'd been a coward, running away from it all. Unwilling to shoulder the responsibility of the fall out. He can't help but feel like he's joined the list of men who have completely let you down.

“Did you know - did you always know ab - about Julian?” you ask, eyes downcast as you struggle to put your question into words.

John can imagine the hurt you must’ve felt when you finally learned Julian’s life long secret. How that must have eaten away at you, made you question what you’d done to frighten Julian into never telling you. How many puzzle pieces must have fallen together - the fact that Julian never once brought home a girl, how he never once expressed interest in anyone openly, every refusal to marry. He knows how your fight with Julian must haunt you now - knowing the full context of his actions. Agreeing to marry a woman your parents set him up with - any woman - would have killed his spirit entirely.

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, meeting your eyes as he does.

You let out a breath and he sees your shoulders slump as you look away from him, trying to hide the tears in your eyes from him. You were never quite that good at hiding things from him, however. Your lips part as though you wish to say something or ask something, but appear to think better of it, shaking your head as you do. John’s uncertain where this hesitation in you is coming from. There should be a barrage of questions being hurled at him right now - not the two questions he’s gotten so far. Nothing about this feels right to him.

Your hair has started to curl slightly as it dries, forming waves around your face, and he's tempted to push the hair behind your ears, out of your face because he knows how that bothers you.

"What now?" he asks, unable to linger in the silence any longer.

You shake your head as you look at him, releasing a long held sigh. "I have no idea. I cashed out the trust fund and deferred law school. By now Matthew must've told them that I ended things. I haven't heard anything from anyone." The lack of response must be killing you, he knows. Perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He nods. Letting Singapore go through uninterrupted probably helped - it would buy you time if nothing else. He doubts your father thinks you know the truth about Julian. More than likely, it'll be chalked up to nerves or rebellion - maybe even grief.

You hop off of the island, landing right in front of him and he resists the urge to reach out and steady you on your feet. "Thank you. I should go. Tell Cece I'm sorry for interrupting," you say, throwing a half apologetic smile his way over your shoulder.

You walk back to the couch, and he follows, watching you lean down and pull your shoes back on.

His brow scrunches up in concern. You were leaving already? "Where are you going to go?" he asks, watching you apprehensively. That was it? Why even bother coming then?

"Not sure yet. I'll see you around," you reply over your shoulder, shrugging your jacket back on.

With that, you're gone as quickly as you came, and he's left feeling off kilter, staring around his apartment, wondering if you'd been some sort of hallucination. A fever dream borne of a guilty mind that hadn’t felt at peace in a very long time.

*------------*

He didn't hear from you again for a couple of months. The next he even heard of you was in the gossip magazines that Cece had brought over to his apartment to read on Sunday mornings while he cooked them both breakfast. She showed him photographs of you wearing skimpy dresses, escorted by pretty boy model types at every club in the city.

Through the grapevine - and he was guilty of using Cece to get the inside track on everything - he finds out that you'd moved into an apartment in the Upper East Side and had made it your goal to be the most notorious party girl the city's ever seen. It's in complete contrast to the low profile you typically keep and he sees it for what it is - a bizarre attempt at drawing attention to yourself. To what end, he could only guess at.

Another month in, and he gets a drunken call from you, providing him the name of some pub that is decidedly low brow - nothing like the clubs and speakeasies you're known to haunt. He arrives to find you seated at the bar, your short dress hiked up past the point of decency, nearly passed out. He finds out where you live and helps you to your place, depositing you on your couch. The guys at the front desk had him in their system already it seemed, and he'd been waved up rather quickly as he carried your limp form.

He leaves you there as he has work the following morning, and taking care of twenty two year old socialites isn't something he has the time or energy to do, even if it is you. It's as though he can feel himself being sucked into your tornado and he's digging his heels in, determined to stay away. He knows that if he gives in, that'll be it. You'll take over his life, his breath, his soul all over again and it had taken far too much out of him to escape the first time.

*------------*

Cece asks him if he's spoken to you recently. Apparently, you've been getting somewhat of a reputation. She heard from her contacts in the art world that you'd been frequenting some pill parties and it was only a matter of time before the tabloids got a hold of it.

There's a growing pit in his stomach anytime you come up, anytime he sees your face on the cover of a paper as he buys coffee, anytime something small reminds him of you. You're both in Manhattan every day. You're never more than a dozen miles away from him. Yet, what's he supposed to do really? He's not your caretaker. You're an adult. The worst thing in the world had happened and you're coping with it just as he had coped with it.

Despite that, he knows this isn't really you - not how you typically cope. You're entirely mission oriented and your way of dealing with things usually comes in the form of finding something new to conquer, something new to be good at, something new to distract yourself with. This is the first time he's seen you latch onto something destructive just to keep going on.

*------------*

"Do you think it hurt, when he died?"

John blinks, still trying to make sense of what was going on. He had been woken by the shrill ringtone he had set just for you, to make sure he'd never miss a call, and as his eyes settle on the clock on the nightstand, he realizes that it's past three in the morning. His heart is beating really fast, having been startled awake harshly and his brain struggles to close the gap between dreams and reality.

"What?"

"Julian, when he died. Do you think it was fast? Was it painless? Or do you think it was drawn out? Knowing Papa, I feel like he would've drawn it out. Don't you?"

He feels the hair on the back of his neck stand at your voice and your words. At what they're implying. There’s a nearly hauntingly playful quality to your voice that gives him chills.

"Where are you?" he asks, his heart thudding in his chest still, your words ringing in his ears, and his stomach clenching over and over doing somersaults. Something's wrong. He can feel it in his bones. Something is very wrong.

"Home."

"Stay there. I'm coming over."

It's nearly twelve miles from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side and on a normal day at three in the morning it would take twenty two minutes to get there. John makes it in twelve. He leaves his bike parked right in front, despite the doorman's protests, tossing the keys to him on his way in. If he cared so much, then he could move it.

His blood runs cold when he sees you lying on the floor, pills spilling out of the bottle that lies limp in your hand. You're cold when he reaches you, his hands trembling as he feels for a pulse, before scooping you up and taking you to the shower and placing you under the stream. He forces a couple of fingers down your throat, doing his best to force the pills up, unsure how many you'd taken by the time he arrived. He feels like he's living every nightmare come to life.

It's early morning by the time you're fully conscious, lying in the tub as he sits at the edge, watching over you. He'd had a few hours to himself to just watch you and think. Things couldn't go on the way they had been. He had to do something, or the next time he wouldn't get there in time.

He sees you stir and orders you to clean up and meet him outside, his voice unrecognizable to even himself. By the time you emerge, you'd showered and wet hair clumps around your head. You're wearing his old law school hoodie, and he feels a twinge of something, despite knowing you'd done it on purpose.

He places a plate of toast in front of you. You didn't keep much in the apartment besides bottles of chilled champagne and that really wasn't what he was going to serve at six thirty in the morning to the girl who had tried to overdose on pills the night before.

"We're going to take him down," he announced, as you munch on the toast and look at him cautiously.

Your eyes flash at him and you continue to chew, buying yourself time to respond. Finally you swallow and look up at him. "We?"

"Yes. We are not doing a repeat of last night. Ever. So get that clear in your head." His voice is firm and his jaw clenched as he remembers the sight of you lying on the floor only a few hours ago.

You're quiet, looking away from him and he can see the faintest hint of color in your cheeks and he hears you sniffle quietly.

"You scared me last night." His voice is entirely controlled, only the tremor in his hand giving away how entirely affected he is by the past few hours of terror he'd lived through.

Your voice is soft when you speak, catching in your throat when you do. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I don't want sorry. I want you to promise me that it won't happen again," he begs, reaching across and tucking the hair that had fallen into your face back behind your ear.

"I miss him." You look up at him and suddenly he's reminded of the eighteen year old who had snuck into his room after graduation - entirely vulnerable, entirely young, standing at the precipice of the unknown.

John sighs. "Me too. But that doesn't mean - it doesn't mean we give up."

You nod, standing up and walking around the counter to him, wrapping your arms tight around his waist. "So what're we going to do?" you ask, looking up at him.

*------------*

You'd just left his parents' home after having dinner with the three of them, followed by drinks in the study with his father, his mother choosing to retire to bed early.

The three of you had been working together on how to dismantle your father from the inside, and already he'd seen a big change in you. It wasn't how you'd been before, but it was better than it had been recently, and he'd take that win for now.

"You should know," his father discloses, clearing his desk of the files he'd taken out to share with the two of you, "when she turned eighteen, I asked her father about her and you - we all saw the way you look at her. I thought it would be nice to unite our families as one.”

John looks at his father with some amount of surprise. He hadn't known that - that he'd approached your father for your hand.

"Don't look so surprised son. You're not nearly as subtle as you like to think you are. Her father wasn't surprised either. I imagine he ensured it didn't happen regardless. The Hawthornes were not politically useful to him and he needed to keep her available." There's a slight bitter quality to his father's voice.

John nods, a stuttered breath escaping him. He wonders what your father had said to Julian in order to get him to interfere the way he had. He wonders if you knew.

"You need to be careful, son. Don't fall for her again," his father warns. John doesn't know how to break it to him - it was already far too late for that.

*------------*

John's woken up at eight in the morning on a Sunday with a knock on his door. Bleary eyed, he goes to open it, only to have a clipboard shoved in his face. A delivery man is standing here, urging him to sign for a package.

"It's downstairs. Can't bring it here. Won't fit."

What kind of a package was that big that it wouldn't fit in the elevator? He follows the man downstairs, who leads him to a truck, from the back of which a motorcycle is rolled off.

John stands there, blinking, unsure what to make of it all. Right as the delivery man hands him the keys, a cab pulls up, and out you step, looking far more dressed up and cheery than anyone should that early in the morning.

"Oh good it's here," you exclaim, beaming at him.

"What's going on?" he asks, taking in your appearance - the leather jacket and the combat boots. You looked like you were playing a biker chick for Halloween.

"I had Julian's bike shipped over," you explain, your eyes taking in his shirtless appearance and skimming over the grey sweatpants he had worn to bed. "You're going to teach me how to ride it."

He raises an eyebrow. "I am?"

"Yes. Now go put on a shirt. When do you even have time to do all that?" you ask, waving your hands in the general direction of his chest and abs, a flirty smile on your face that makes him blush ever so slightly. "Thought you were a lawyer."

John could feel a migraine coming on as he shivers from the cold. There really was no talking you out of this or reasoning to do this at a more humane hour. Rolling his eyes, he tosses you the keys before going upstairs to change.

*------------*

It had been a heart attack from nowhere. He'd gotten a call from his mother in the dead of night, hysterically screaming for him. Apparently you'd gotten the same call, as you'd arrived at the hospital before even he did. You held his mother together while the doctor spoke to him. It had been quick, relatively painless as far as death goes.

Everyone had come for the funeral, and from the corner of his eye he saw you greeting both of your parents as though nothing had happened. Your father's arm around your waist fills him with disgust, leaving him wondering how you could stand his touch after knowing everything that you did.

The funeral and wake afterwards seem to stretch on forever and all he wants is to be away from all the people.

It's late and most everyone had left, his mother catered to by her sisters - he'd needed a breather. He'd ended up in his childhood bedroom - surrounded by his soccer trophies, swimming medals, debate gavels - a shrine his mother had maintained to him and his achievements.

"Hey."

He turns at the sound of your softly hesitant voice as you stand at the door. You're still wearing the black dress you'd worn earlier in the day, a delicate strand of pearls wrapped tightly around your neck. He recognizes it as a piece his father had gifted you for one of your birthdays when you were younger, and he smiles at the memory of everyone surrounding you while you wore a tiara and blew out candles.

"Hey, come on in Cap."

You smile slightly at his use of the moniker, and walk in, carefully shutting the door behind you. The bed shifts as you come and sit by him, your hand reaching for his. He feels a streak of warmth go through him - the first bit of warmth he's felt since he saw his mother's crying face at the hospital.

"He's gone," he whispers, turning towards you. His father was gone. He's an adult, and this was a part of life, but he wasn't even thirty years old yet. Parents weren't supposed to die when you're that young. They're supposed to be there when you get married, when you have kids. His father would never meet his children.

You squeeze his hand, bringing his head down to your shoulder as you hold him. Tears won't come. He didn't think he was capable - not yet at least. Right now it was enough to feel something - anything.

He takes another deep breath and as he turns his head, he catches your worried look. His eyes go from yours to your lips and back again and before he knows it, he's leaned in. You let him. He pulls away, set to apologize, but when he tries to, your lips cover his again. A shuddered breath traverses through the both of you as he lowers you to the navy blue sheets that cover the bed, your light hands traveling from his face to his hair, to his arms - leaving sparks of sensation everywhere they go. He acts on pure instinct, the two of you careful to keep quiet as his hands roam, touching skin and drawing noises, whose mere imagination had maintained permanent residence in his dreams for years.

*------------*

It had been two weeks since his father's funeral before he sees you again by himself. He'd spent a large amount of that time with his mother, helping her pack up his father's things and sort through the will. You’d been there with her whenever he couldn’t be.

He kept replaying that night over and over again in his head. It shouldn't have happened like that. The two of you - finally - it should've been perfect. Instead it had been coated with grief and hurt - a desire to provide comfort and years of pent up longing that should've exploded but instead simmered into a low fizzle. It had still been what he had needed. It just hadn't been what you needed, and he couldn't help but feel guilty for that, as he remembers you giving him a half hearted smile and adjusting your clothes before heading back downstairs.

"They turned me down," you complain as he opens the door to you.

He lets you walk in and you hand him a piece of paper that he reads twice before it fully clicks. "The CIA rejected you?" he asks incredulously.

"Yeah, can you believe it?" You scoff, rolling your eyes, entitlement wafting off of you.

You seem entirely put out as you help yourself to the scotch he'd been drinking and he can't help but laugh a bit. "You've never been rejected before, have you? Princess has never not gotten what she wants." He knows you haven't - Harvard undergrad, accepted to Harvard Law School, top of your class and winning every single thing you'd ever set out for.

You shake your head at his somewhat obvious mockery and make yourself comfortable on his couch next to him, not responding as you focus instead on drinking. It was still odd seeing you drinking real liquor - like you'd actually grown up. Ruefully, you reply, "I've never really gotten what I want."

He's left to ponder that response while you drink some more.

"So I suppose I'll be going to my safety school at the FBI," you sigh after a few minutes, reaching across his lap for the remote. "I feel like I'm going to Columbia or something," you joke, trying to shake it off.

"Hey!"

You laugh as you flick on the news, settling into his side. He's glad you're still casually comfortable together. There had been a part of him that had worried that things would be different afterwards, so it was good to see that you haven't deviated from your normal treatment of him. He watches you as your eyes are trained on the TV anchor, your face scrunching up with every sip of the scotch. You're still not used to the taste or the burn, even if you like to pretend to enjoy it now.

"Let me make it up to you."

You turn up to look at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Last time,” he explains, swallowing a breath that threatens to burst out of him. “It shouldn't have been like that. You didn't - you didn't finish. Let me make it up to you."

You chuckle dismissively, patting his thigh with your hand. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" he presses. He's had a taste of you. He's not ready to just let it go. Let you go.

You're quiet for a second, before you push up from the couch. He follows.

"Because it won't be what you think it will - what you want it to be. It won't be us how it should've been,” you say, your voice low and colored with sadness, fingers fretting with the edge of your top, and eyes unable to meet his.

The two of you stand in the middle of the loft, the draft chilling the air around you. Your words linger in the air, swirling around the two of you.

"What do you mean?" he asks, reaching out for you. The two of you consciously or unconsciously moving around the space, closer and closer to the bed.

You bite your lip, as though unsure of how to say it. How to say it in a way that will resonate with him. "I am not the nine year old that said I was going to marry you one day, John," you clarify, a sad smile gracing your face as you look up at him. "I'm not the fifteen year old that begged you to be my first kiss. I'm not the eighteen year old that thought I'd have a beautiful life with you. Those girls are dead. I can't be who you want me to be."

John feels his heart sink at your declaration, despite knowing you're right. It's not the same as it once had been. The last time he was with you was proof enough of that. And yet, he doesn't want the time after his father's funeral to be it - not after everything. He couldn't quite bear it to leave it at that. Not if there was a chance.

"Be you then. Let me be whoever you need me to be."

You eye him carefully, surprised at his persistence. The two of you have managed to maneuver yourselves towards the other side of the loft, near his bed, and he watches apprehensively as you walk slowly closer to him, an odd glint in your eye. He finds himself instinctively backing up as you approach, until the back of his legs hit the bedframe.

"You sure about that?" you ask, and before he can catch a breath, your hands have come up and shoved against his chest, pushing him to the bed. He bounces on the mattress ever so slightly, his eyes widened in surprise as you quickly straddle him, your face oh so close to his. "Is this okay?" you appraise him, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders to maintain your balance.

He nods, moving forward and capturing your lips. He only manages to feel in control for a second, before it’s swept away from him, your fingers harshly pulling at his hair, drawing a groan from him as he finds himself bucking up towards you. It's all fast, hard - nothing like he'd imagined it would be like with you. However, it's only afterwards, as you get out of bed and pull your clothes on to leave, that he realizes exactly how different it is. He finds himself unable to say anything. After all, you'd warned him. He watches you get fully dressed and slip out the door with only a half smile and wave. Never before has he felt so...used.

The next morning, he sees the angry red scratch marks clawed into his back and the bruises left on the rest of him - that’s when it fully sinks in. You're not you.

It happens a couple more times before he starts giving as good as he's getting, and for a second you're surprised. Shockingly, instead of being discouraged, it only serves to spur you further.

Things continue in the same way throughout your training at the FBI. You tell him not to wait. That you aren't exclusive and he should date. After all, you're only back in the city around once a month and he never comes to DC. You always arrive on Julian's old motorcycle. You never spend the night. He tries dating but it's hard to want to become exclusive with other women, knowing that you'll be back again in a couple of weeks. His father’s words loom in his head constantly on the nights he lies awake wondering how you’re doing, if you’re alright, if you’re thinking of him too.

He knows he has to wait. He has to wait to tell you until everything is done and the dust settles. There’s a ring with your name on it sitting in his mother’s jewelry box. He just has to ride this out, until you’re you again.

*------------*

You'd accepted a spot on the BAU. He'd thought you'd take the offer in White Collar or something else that was based out of the New York field office at least. However, you said you liked DC and that you liked this one team in particular, and John found himself confused. The plan was really just to get access via the FBI - who cares which team it was on.

You don't see him the first few months you're on this new team. It seems you're always traveling and your phone calls are few and far in between. He starts taking on more than his fair share of the billing hours, working sixteen hour days every day. It won’t be long until he’s made partner - youngest partner in the firm’s history.

He gets far too happy when you tell him you're coming back to New York for the holidays, and ask to spend them with him. He's nearly giddy with excitement. He gets the babka from the Jewish deli you like and he grabs a couple of bottles of champagne to ring in the new year with.

You arrive, a large smile on your face, your nose red from the chill and a cute little beanie on top of your head. You laugh and leap into his arms immediately and you kiss him and he forgets how to breathe. You're in his arms and you're smiling and you're kissing him without it leading to sex and for the first time in two years he feels a surge of hope flowing through him. That's my baby.

You tell him about the team and how much you've been learning, as the two of you settle into eating dinner together. It's so nice to hear you excited about something - it reminds him of when you first started at Harvard and the two of you were still maintaining a strong friendship despite putting your relationship on the back burner. All the late night phone calls where he'd fall asleep to the sound of you talking about your history and art classes, everything you were learning in criminology and psychology and he'd just hum and listen, taking it all in. At the time, he'd been worried that you were going to work yourself to the bone doing a triple major and a minor, but you hadn't been able to decide what you wanted to do and you were intent on doing it all. It’s that similar charged passion now as you tell him about the latest case. You deal with serial killers every day and it isn’t something he’d have ever thought you’d do. You tell him about your team and that you’ve made friends, you talk about some kid’s birthday party and ask his advice on a gift, and there is this light in your eyes, this hopeful softness to your smile and he can see every possibility with you.

After dinner, the two of you sit on the couch as he fills you in on his most recent trial that he's been working, glasses of scotch in hand. He's a little surprised again when you kiss him softly, completely unlike the past year or so that you two have been intimate. He can't help but escalate it, pulling you into his lap. This was it. This was how it was always meant to be. You let him carry you to the bed and slowly lower you, going down and down as he works his way down your body. Every touch inciting a soft moan from you, every moan in turn bolstering him onward. He's not sure what changed, but you let him be with you the way he's wanted to be with you forever. Your fingers wrap around his neck, pulling him close after you both finish, leaving him buried within you. He feels your lips ghost over his forehead, fingers running through his hair. You make no move to leave.

The sun streams in through the windows, waking him the next morning. He doesn't feel you next to him, and for a second he panics and thinks you'd snuck out in the middle of the night, having realized your mistake. You don’t stay the night. Ever. You barely even linger afterwards. But then he sees you standing by the window at the kitchen, wearing his shirt and some socks to protect from the chill, a mug of coffee in your hand. His heart flutters at the sight.

He gets up, slipping on a pair of pajama pants, before joining you at the window, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and tucking his head onto your shoulder. It's only when he tries to kiss you that he notices your glossy eyes holding unshed tears.

"Hey Cap," he says softly to you, turning your face towards him gently. "What's wrong?"

You're worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and your hand, the one that isn't clutching the mug tightly is bunched into the shirt you're wearing, wrinkling the material. "I'm sorry," you manage to breathe out. "I am so sorry for all of this."

John feels his breath start to swell in concern, and he rubs his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "What're you sorry about?" Everything was finally good. What could there possibly be to be sorry about?

You swallow back a sob. "Doing this job, I see all these people every day who have been messed up by their fathers. Day in and day out, that's all I see. People trying to make sense of the world in one way or another because of how much their parents screwed them up. And you know what? A lot of these people hurt other people because of how much they've been hurt. It sickens me to relate to them - these sickos, pedophiles, and murderers and I think to myself, wow, that could easily be me if I let my father continue to get to me. If I keep going down this path where all I'm doing is basing everything around revenge and taking him down. My life is all consumingly him and I want it to not be."

John nods understandingly, as you continue to let him hold you. The pain in your voice causes his heart to clench.

"I don't like those people and I don't want to be them. I have a chance to stop them. Do something good. Feel clean for once in my life."

"If that's what you want, then alright,” he reassures you. Of course you’d do whatever was best for you - you should know that he would always do what was best for you. “But why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because - because I don't think I can do this, if I'm reminded of Julian everyday,” you sob. “I don't want to forget him, but - but I'm also not strong enough to think about him every single day and be reminded of what happened to him all the time. I want a chance to get out.”

He looks at you, trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, and the realization dawns on him. The softness, the apologies - the way you’d let him hold you and have you wholly for the first time. The fact that you’d stayed. You were trying to say goodbye.

He can feel the mounting panic that he tries to quell. You’ve obviously thought this through, that much is clear. You’re trying to do good, to be good, to shed the shadow of your father and he can’t fault you for that in any way. It’s the right thing to do, and he knows it. He’d thrown you a life raft the day he’d found you passed out on your living room floor, and he’d started to help you paddle towards shore. He hadn’t cared what land the two of you would arrive at - the only goal being arriving on solid ground at all.

You look at him mournfully and take in a shuddered breath that he can feel rush through you as you’re still pressed against him. You stand in the cage of his arms, never once making an attempt to move away. “John, if you ask me to stay, I will,” you whisper nervously, your eyes meeting his, letting him see everything. “But, I am begging you, please don't. Don't ask me to stay. I have a shot at doing something good - something that has nothing to do with my father. Doing this job makes me feel like I'm making amends and undoing some of the bad that exists in the world. I'm starting to feel clean again. But I don't think I can do that if I have one foot in this world and - "

"And you can't do that if I'm around. Because I'm part of it. I'm part of this world."

You nod, taking another deep breath as the tears continue to fall. Down your face and his.  

"I love you." He can't help but say it. He needs to. He needs you to know, if only once.

You smile despite the tears, reaching up to cup his cheek and he leans into it and he leans into you. "I know. But I don't think that's good for either one of us anymore. I used to. But I think the two of us are too broken in the same ways. We've both been on the outskirts of the same life and we're scarred by the same darkness. All of our jagged pieces, they fit so well together. But I'm starting to think that kind of love isn't the good kind. I don't really want jagged pieces anymore. I don't want to have to have someone fit me in order to round out my edges. I want to be whole all on my own. I feel like we both need that. We both deserve that - and I can’t give it to you.”

When you said it like that, how could he even attempt to disagree.

He releases the breath he’s been holding for the past while. Your arms are still wrapped around his waist, and he lets you - he lets you be his solace. He wraps his arms tightly around your back, pulling you into him, as close as he possibly can, head bent and resting on your shoulder.

“What if I never love anyone like this again?” he asks, his words a mumble against your skin. You’re the person he talks to about things like this.

You shift, moving your head back to rest against the brick walls, bringing both arms up, holding his face gently with both hands. “You won’t,” you tell him tenderly, tilting your head ever so slightly as your eyes meet his. “You’ll love them differently. But that doesn't mean that it won't be real or deep or any less meaningful - just different. Hopefully, with any luck, it’ll be better. Because you deserve the world, John.”

You rest your forehead to his and he lets himself bask in the feeling of you - you all around him, you everywhere, you in his arms.

He prays with all his might, that you find what you’re looking for.

*------------*

The tattoos had been his idea. He wanted something to always remember Julian by. But he was also a selfish man - he needed a tether - something to tie you to him forever.

You part ways outside the tattoo parlor, one of the bottles of champagne that he'd bought in your bag. He goes home alone.

You ride the bike back to DC and pop open the bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve all by yourself, drinking to a fresh start.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotchner x you #hotchner x y/n #hotchner x reader #irreverentseries

[forasecondtherewedwon]

They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #sambucky

[ja-barakrispy]

A/N: This is the first fanfic I've ever written, so I'm very sorry if this absolutely sucks🥺 Any (kind) constructive feedback is greatly appreciated!

I don't want this to be too much of a slow burn, but I also don't want it to be too fast paced, so idk, we'll see how it goes😅

Also, it currently doesn't have a name, so that's a work in progress!🙃

Pairing: Fem reader X ???

Warnings: Potentially offensive language, mentions of death/loss/grief, very brief mentions of jail & implying a relationship with a minor.

Summary: It's been 6 months since The Blip, and life isn't anywhere close to going back to normal. Y/N Stark is still coming to terms with the loss of her dad, as well as adjusting to life since everyone who vanished returned back to Earth.

Part One

"Steve represented the best in all of us..." You looked up at Sam Wilson as he spoke.

Steve Rogers' memorial was somewhere you didn't expect to be so soon after your father's passing. Everything that had happened since your dad had sacrificed himself felt like a continuous storm that was never going to let up, and Steve's death added to the weight of loss.

"...a few months ago, millions of people reappeared after five years away..." Sam continued.

You hadn't blipped. You were one of the supposed lucky ones.

Mostly, you were grateful - you'd gotten to spend more time with your dad (all thanks to Carole Danvers locating him and Nebula on the Benatar ship), and you got to see Morgan flourish into the sweet young girl she is now. But there was always that thought in the back of your mind: 'what would life be like now if I had blipped?'.

"...we need new heroes," Sam looked down at you from the stage. "...ones suited to the times we're in."

Rhodey nugged you lightly and you looked at each other. You gave him a small smile. He'd been a huge support to you, and he had so much belief in you.

"...thank you Capitan America," Sam was now holding Steve's shield. "But this belongs to you." There was an applause as the shield was placed into a display cabinet. It almost felt wrong to you, and you were sure Rhodey felt the same way.

"You OK?" He turned to you. You nodded.

Before you could speak, Sam was walking towards the two of you. "It's good to see you both." He smiled as he took Rhodey's out-stretched hand and pulled him into a hug.

"Wouldn't have missed it, man". Rhodey pat Sam on the shoulder.

Sam turned to you with open arms and you reciprocated his welcome hug. As you both pulled back he looked at you with a hint of concern in his expression. "How are you doing?" He asked.

"You know, up days, down days..." You shrugged, beginning to fiddle with the material belt that wrapped around the dress you were wearing.

Sam nodded his head slightly. "I'm just about to go and look around the exhibition, you're both welcome to join me?"

"Yeah that would be great, it would be good to catch up." Rhodey smiled before looking over to you.

"Sounds good." You gave a small smile. "I'm just going to get some air, and I'll be right back."

The two men nodded and returned your small smile, before you took off towards the exit.

Outside, you breathed in the warm Spring air. You just wished you could feel the warmth on your skin. How you felt was almost hard to explain - emotionally, you were completely numb and yet in absolute agony all at one.

The only person who could get you to emote nowadays was Morgan, and that was mostly because you didn't want her to see you so sad.

As you sat perched on a wall outside the building, you enjoyed the near-silence around you. There was very minimal noise: the distant whirl of traffic; a few people spoke softly as they walked by; the birds in the trees above singing. The quiet atmosphere was almost enough to drown the constant sea of thoughts running through your mind.

But then you thought of Steve.

In some ways he had been like an uncle to you. When your dad introduced you to the team, Steve accepted you into the Avengers like you'd been around for years. And despite the very obvious disagreements with your dad, he never stopped showing how much he supported you. How much he believed in you.

To you, that's what made him so worthy of being Captain America.

You took in once last deep breath, before stepping down from the wall and going back inside.

You found Rhodey and Sam looking around the museum. There were several of Steve's belongings locked up in display cabinets and pictures of him on the walls, alongside huge captions containing a mass of information and explanation. You stopped briefly to look at a picture of him and Bucky Barnes when they served in the army together. You were surprised that Bucky wasn't here today, but at the same time you understood - having to be grieve in public is one of the hardest things expected of a person.

"Y/N, I've just got to make a call to the Compound." Rhodey turned to you, phone in hand.

"Yeah of course, I'll meet you out front in a bit." You nodded.

"It was good to see you Sam." He shook hands with The Falcon and they exchanged goodbyes.

"So," Sam folded his arms across his chest. "How are you really?"

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. That was the thing about Sam - he could see straight through everyone, he was very hard to fool.

"Is it really that hard to believe that I'm actually doing OK?' a laugh escaped as you spoke.

"Y/N, you've had a lot of deal with over the last six months; I can only imagine losing Steve has been another thing to add to the pile." Sam's expression grew more concerned. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, a terrible habit you bad developed when you didn't know quite what to say.

"Have you..." Sam began, unsure whether to finish his question. "Have you spoken to Peter?"

A small sigh escaped you. "Yeah.

"I held on to so much hope when he blipped, but there was too much uncertainty. If he ever did come back, would he come back the age he should be, or would he still be 16? Would things still work out between us? But obviously we knew things couldn't continue when he did come back."

"I hate to say it, but you know it's for the best." Sam shrugged. "He's only 16, you're nearly 22..."

"Well, in all honesty, I don't want to go to jail." Another laugh fell out as you spoke.

"Not to mention you're a completely different person to who you were five years ago; you've matured more than your years." Sam added.

Your tone softened along with your expression. "If I'd have blipped too, things would be different."

Sam took a step closer to you and placed his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm about to give you some tough love, so buckle up;" he began. "You can't focus on what life would be like if you'd blipped, Y/N. As much as you want to live in that fantasy, you can't - this is reality. Damn, I wish I hadn't blipped!

"Now, I know for a fact, that you have so much potential in that brain of yours, you're incredibly smart, just like your dad. But you need to tap into that potential and use it. Now is the time for you to truly make something of yourself, and be the person that you want to be."

You looked back up at Sam. You knew he was right. "I'll try." And you meant it.

"Speaking of Peter, I'm actually seeing him tonight, I said I'd help him with this project for school."

"Look at you, being a real adult." Sam teased. You laughed a little with him.

A sudden thought dawned on you: "It must have been so weird coming back from the blip and everything being so different." Your brows knitted together slightly.

Sam let out a giggle, "you could say that."

His expression hardened slightly.

"When I came back, it was pretty much just like waking up from the longest sleep.

"We arrived right back where we left and everyone was just going about their business, as if half the population hadn't completely vanished. I remember their faces; some confused, some relieved. Many of them ran, I presume back to where they lost their loved ones to see if they'd returned also.

"The first thought that I had was about my sister and my nephews, I just wanted to know if they were ok. But, we needed to fight first. Never before had I felt such a fire in my gut - I was ready. We all were. We were ready to do whatever it took to defeat Thanos.

"Some of us more than others."

You nodded.

There was a brief silence before you spoke; "I'd best go look for Rhodey, he'll think I've dashed off without him.

"Thank you, Sam. It's been really good seeing you." The smile you gave The Falcon was the most genuine smile you'd given anyone in months.

"It's been good to see you too." Sam embraced you in a goodbye hug, before you began to leave the museum.

"Y/N," Sam called as you left. You turned to look at him over your shoulder. "Don't be a stranger."

* * *

Part Two HERE

#marvel mcu #marvel #marvel imagine #sam and bucky #sam wilson #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #endgame #infinity war #captain america #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: The Devil Wears Nada

Summary: Steve’s fed up of getting cock blocked during what was supposed to be bit of alone time and would make a deal with the Devil herself to get some alone time with his wife… Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- (NSFW, 18+) Like seriously, if you’re under 18 get off my blog. This is, possibly, the filthiest thing I’ve written for Steve to date!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: So this follows on directly from Bumps In The Night which was written by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ as part of Stark Spangled Banner’s Birthday Party. Give it a read, its wonderful!

If you are currently reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS and I recommend you wait until you’ve finished so you don’t spoil anything!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie and Steve headed back inside, Katie diverting into the lounge to go and retrieve the candy off the kids before they ate too much of it in one sitting. Steve had to snort at the various cries of protests that rang round the lounge and his wife’s stern voice telling the three children in there that she didn’t care if it was Saturday, they weren’t consuming enough E-numbers to fuel an army before bed. He made his way into the kitchen and was completely unsurprised to find Bucky already had his head buried in the fridge.

“Make yourself at home.” He deadpanned and Bucky looked at him, thrusting a beer in his direction. “Gee thanks.” Steve’s dry sarcasm still present as he looked at his friend who was offering him his own fucking beer. Bucky grinned and shrugged as he passed one to Sam as well as he strode into the room, the three men popping the tops. Steve took a long pull from his as he eyed Bucky “Why are you here?”

“Rude much?” Bucky asked, his eyes still checking out the contents of the refrigerator. “We were concerned uncles…you weren’t with the kids.”

“They were with Emmy and Queens” Steve arched an eyebrow “Perfectly safe.”

“They showed up on Tin Man’s doorstep.” Sam grinned “We were halfway through studying a couple of files and they basically swamped us and said it was their last stop of the night. Bucky thought it would be fun to come back with them.”

“To bug the crap out of me or…”

“I wanted candy.” Buck shrugged.

“Then you should have gone Trick Or Treating.” Steve replied “And let’s face it, with a face like that, who needs a mask?”

“Ouch, Stevie…” Bucky looked at him as Sam chuckled in the background, before he turned his attention back to the fridge “Oooh, your Missus made a cheeseboard.”

“What are you a fuckin’ mouse?” Sam asked as Bucky pulled out the platter, setting it on the side.

“Just ‘cause I appreciate the good things in life, Seagull and you can’t.” Bucky shrugged, unwrapping the film from the cheese. “You know, Steve was just like this growing up.”

“Yeah, well, now I have better taste and I’m also big enough to kick your ass so stop eating my food and go home before I throw you out.”

“What’s got into you?” Bucky looked at him.

“You’re disrupting my plans.” Steve said simply.

“What pl-ooooooh!” Buck’s question morphed into a noise of acknowledgment as he looked at his friend “Then you should have taken advantage of the empty house earlier.”

“School boy error, Cap.” Sam smirked and Steve let out a growl of frustration.

“Well our various attempts to were thwarted one way or another, and now you two punks are ruining it again.” Steve glared at them “Put the cheese back and piss off.”

Bucky smirked. “Imma tell Katie you’re being nasty to me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes knowing full well the soft spot his girl had for Bucky and Sam. If she got so much as a sniff he was being a bit of a shit to either of them he’d be in for it. “You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t what?”

At the sound of his wife’s voice Steve jumped and turned to see her clutching the huge bowl that had previously contained their candy by the door and now sported the combined content of their kids’ bags, Harry toddling behind her, his eyes fixed on the prize.

“Oh this is gonna be good.” Sam smirked, leaning off to the side unwrapping a Reeses which he pulled out of his pocket, slowly chewing as if watching a movie.

“Hey Doll Face” Bucky grinned at her “Steve won’t let me eat the cheese.”

“Ignore him, you help yourself Buck.” She waved to it as she passed Steve the bowl of candy “Stop being so moody, stick that up high somewhere.”

“You know that won’t stop Jamie, Rori or him don’t you?” Steve looked at her as she picked Harry up who watched shrewdly as his dad placed the bowl on the top shelf of one of the cupboards “All 3 of them had scaled the refrigerator by the time they were 2.”

“No but it might delay them enough for us to catch them.” She shrugged, her eyes moving to Bucky who was eating a block of cheddar like it was an apple “Buck, do you want some crackers or…”

Bucky nodded but Steve cut him off. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes I do.” Bucky smirked as Katie looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow at his unusually frosty nature towards his friends. She set Harry down on the counter by Bucky who grinned at the toddler, offering him his hand in a hi-five. Harry grinned and slapped his Uncles palm before he looked at the cheese.

“Absolutely not pal.” Steve said to him and Harry looked up.

“Dinosaurs don’t eat cheese.” Bucky shook his head at Harry who stared at him and blinked before he shrugged.

“But I hungry.”

“You can’t possibly be.” Katie looked at her son

“I am, Momma.”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Steve glared at Bucky.

“Me?” Bucky scoffed, his mouth full “What did I do?”

“Set him off, look, why don’t you go and eat Jen’s cheese?” Steve asked and at that there was a pause before Sam, Katie and Bucky all burst out laughing. Steve groaned “Ok, that came out wrong.”

Sam snorted “that’s what she said.”

Katie laughed harder and Bucky grinned, swallowing his mouthful as Katie headed into the pantry. “Innuendo aside, I can’t. She’s got something going on at the coffee shop. Bunch of teenagers doing Halloween activities or something, I don’t know. She won’t be free until later.” He turned to Katie as she walked back in, handing him the box of crackers and he thanked her “So I thought I’d come see my best friends for a beer seeing as it’s not even half 8 on a Saturday yet.”

Katie smiled at him “You two are always welcome here, you know that. Isn’t that right Steve.”

Steve fixed a smile on his face and glared at Bucky who was positively beaming at the fact he knew he was being a cock-block. “Course it is honey, course.”

“Right my little Jurassic baby!” Katie picked Harry up and he giggled, the hood of his dinosaur costume falling over his eyes. “Bath time.

“No bath, Momma.” Harry shook his head furiously, looking up at her as she pushed the clothing back off his head.“I have one tomorrow.”

Katie looked at him, “Your face is filthy.”

“Wash my face then.” He looked at her and Katie raised her eyebrows and looked at Steve who chuckled.

“Wanna help me out here, Daddy?” Katie asked and Steve looked at his son.

“Hey, Buddy, how about Momma washes your face tonight but you’re having a bath first thing in the morning.” Steve looked at Harry as his son considered it for a second. It was late after all. Skipping bath night one evening wouldn’t kill him.

“Deal” Harry nodded, holding his hand out. Steve shook it as Bucky and Sam both gave snorts.

“You need a hand?” Steve asked.

“No, I got it.” Katie shook her head “I’ll get him sorted. You can send Rori and Jamie up in fifteen though.”

“Sure.” Steve nodded.

“Say goodnight Harry.” Katie said, turning round so Harry could see Sam and Bucky.

“Goodnight Harry.” He grinned, before he cackled at his usual joke. The tot had no idea why it was funny, but when he had first said it, it had cracked both Katie and Steve up so now he seemed to say it every night. Bucky and Sam obligingly laughed as Steve dropped kiss to his son’s head, before pecking Katie’s cheek as she carried him out of the kitchen.

**** Half an hour later, after Rori had done one final parade around the kitchen in her princess cat outfit, beaming when Bucky had declared her the “prettiest kitty cat in all the world” and Steve had once more told her “no, you can’t have a real cat”, all the kids were clean and in their rooms. Harry and Rori were both tucked up in bed, lights off, whilst Jamie was watching TV with a warning from Steve that he had thirty minutes before it was time to turn it off. Steve knew Jamie would listen, it was part of the deal that he got to have a little time like that in his room as he was the eldest one now. Jamie took it seriously, knowing full well that abusing said privilege would mean it was revoked just as it had been a few weeks months when he’d been giving Steve some serious back chat and cheek. Steve had sent him to his room and Jamie had simply shrugged responding sarcastically “Fine, I’ll go watch my TV, what a huge punishment.” 

Steve had seen red and headed straight into the garage before coming back with a pair of pliers. He’d walked straight into Jamie’s room, cut the plug off the TV leaving his son staring at him, open mouthed as he breezed out of the room with a simple “watch it now, smart ass…”

The four adults were all sat in the lounge, sprawled across the various sofas with a drink each as the fire roared giving the large living room a cosy, homely feel. Stark was stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, snoring slightly, and the stereo was on playing a little background music whilst the rain pattered against the large ceiling to floor windows. Steve adored this time of year for precisely this reason. Katie snuggled under his arm, her back resting against him as she lay stretched out down the cushions, his arm looped around her crossing her chest. The hand that wasn’t holding her wine was gently rubbing over his forearm, her nails softly skating across the skin. Steve dropped a kiss to her head as they both listened to Sam who was recalling how Bucky had ended up with a load of candy stuck on the hand of his metal arm without realising, which he had then stuck in his hair when he’d run his hand through it.

“He cried like a bitch when I was pulling the gummy bears out.” Sam grinned and Steve tipped his head back, a huge laugh rumbling through his chest as Bucky glared at him.

“Punk.” He looked at Steve who simply smirked and took a drink from his bottle

“You know, I gotta say that these kids take it to the next level nowadays.” Sam swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I mean, some of those costumes are awesome. We saw a really cool Iron Man who had the reactor in his chest all lit up.”

Katie smiled “Yeah, Tony does seem to be a popular choice.”

“We got a Captain America.” Steve offered, not one to be out-done and Katie smirked to herself, “And by that I mean when it was me, or I was it, whatever. He may or may not have gotten extra candy.”

Sam and Bucky chuckled and Katie sipped her wine before she tilted her head back and looked up at Steve.

"At least we got no clowns this year..." Katie smirked and at the mere thought Steve shuddered and Bucky let out a huge snort.

"What...you're scared of clowns?" Sam looked at Steve but before he could answer Bucky jumped in.

"He ain’t just scared man, he's petrified. When we were about 8 and my folks took us to Coney, this guy dressed as a clown tried to give Steve a balloon and he ran away, but the best thing was…” Bucky leaned forward, his words coming between his howls of laughter “this clown kept doing it up until Steve was about 18 because he was so small and looked like a 10 year old.”

“Fuck you.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky as he and Sam fell about laughing. Katie kissed his arm and sat up, pointing at Bucky.

“Stop making fun of him…he was cute when he was a smol bean.”

“Thanks baby.” Steve grinned, pressing a kiss to her head. 

“Coulrophobia” Sam nodded sagely, “Quite common actually.”

“I’m not surprised.” Steve shook his head “They’re horrible. I mean, who on earth ever thought they were suitable as entertainment?”

"I dunno, it was kind of entertaining when Jamie dressed up as one.” Katie smiled and Steve physically shivered at the mere memory of that particular Halloween 

“Wait, what?” Bucky asked, looking at Katie and Steve groaned as he steeled himself once more to be the brunt of a joke.

“You seen IT?” Katie asked, “As in the newest one?”

Bucky nodded, grinning “A particular favourite of mine and Jen’s….although last time we watched it we kinda got distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Katie snorted.

“Don’t wanna know,” she shook her head as Sam Hi-fived Bucky “but anyway, we had a Halloween party about 9 years ago at Tony’s. Emmy asked if she could be in charge of hers and Jamie’s outfits so we said yes. Little did we knows she’d had a little help from my dearest brother and just as we were about to set off…” she snorted and started to laugh “they come down the stairs and Jamie’s dressed in the BEST Pennywise outfit I’ve ever seen.”

Bucky’s face split into a huge grin as Katie continued to laugh, shaking her head.

“So he’s toddling towards Steve and his face…” she stopped talking, as her laughter was now uncontrollable and she shook her head and Steve sighed.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is.” She stuttered, wiping her eyes. She took a deep breath “You stood there stock still, this look of utter horror on your face and I knew you were fighting the urge to turn and run…”

At that Bucky and Sam both burst out into laughter and Steve shook his head. “He was so upset when I wouldn’t pick him up.”

“You stopped the car at the top of the street because you couldn’t drive as you kept seeing him in the mirror…” Katie howled, tipping her head back in absolute, unadulterated laughter and Steve shook his head.

“It’s a phobia…” he looked at her “I can’t help it, any more than you can about spiders.”

“Horrible eight legged bastards.” She shuddered as her laughter died down. “But you know the way to my heart…”

“Kiss you often, fuck you well, feed you snacks and kill the spiders.” he recited, grinning as she chuckled “I know Doll, I know.”

**** Despite his best laid plans going to shit, Steve had to admit it was a nice evening as all four of them chatted and laughed but by the time Bucky and Sam left some two hours later, Katie had already gone up to bed about 15 minutes prior saying she was tired which meant Steve was now very doubtful he’d be fucking her well at all. Cursing Trick Or Treaters, counter surfing dogs, hungry babies and cheese eating, beer drinking friends he cleared the empty bottles off the coffee table and dumped them in the recycling before he let Stark out into the back yard so he could do his business. Steve stood watching him, the cold October air biting at his skin a little as he glanced up at the now clear sky, the rain having stopped roughly half an hour or so ago. He couldn’t believe it was November tomorrow. Another year almost done with. They were flying by, far too quickly for his liking. 

This year had marked seven years since they’d reversed the snap and it still seemed like only yesterday since he’d walked away from it all and passed the shield to Sam, settling down into the domestic life he’d never dreamed in a million years he’d get. He was jerked from his thoughts when Stark walked back up to him, nudging his hand with his cold, wet nose and he smiled, petting the dog’s head as he walked past him into the little laundry room and sat obediently waiting for his paws to be dried. Steve shut the door, locking it and then towelled the dog down before the tan and white mutt shot off through the kitchen and into the hall. Steve heard his collar jangling as he bounded up the stairs to Jamie’s room whilst he himself made his way through to the lounge. The fire was still going, but he knew it would die down over night and he was just moving the grate to the front of it to avoid any embers spilling onto the floor when his ears picked up footsteps on the stairs. He instantly knew they were Katie’s and found himself smirking a little. Maybe he was gonna get a little frisky after all. And then he heard her walking across the hall and frowned, because it sounded like she was in heels.

“Honey?” he called, standing up straight and turning to see his wife leaning against the door frame, one arm extended above her head, the other hand falling to her hips as she looked at him, biting her lip. Steve felt his mouth drop open as he took in her appearance. She was indeed wearing heels, a pair of sparkly, high heeled red Jimmy Choos- her “Ruby Slippers” as Rori dubbed them, and his eyes scanned up her bare legs to the hem of the sheer, red negligee which finished mid-thigh. He could see the outline of a pair of matching, red lace panties underneath as he continued to take in her appearance. The top of the garment was low cut, her cleavage amplified somewhat as her breasts swelled over the lace cups and he swallowed as he felt his cock twitch whilst he simply stared at her, slack jawed. Fuck, she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his entire life and when she did stuff like this…Jesus.

He glanced at her face, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves and it was then he noticed that on the top of her head sat a pair of fake red horns. Steve’s mouth curled up in sinful grin as Katie gave a dirty giggle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief as Steve strode towards her purposefully, one thing on his mind.

“Read to sell your soul to the Devil, Solider?” she asked and Steve let out a chuckle as he stopped in front of her, his hands gripping her hips

“I sold it to you years ago, Doll.”

She grinned at him as he pulled her closer, his fingers curling against her gentle curves, tangling in the soft material of the negligee as he dropped his head to hers, kissing her deeply. Her hands smoothed over the top of his grey Henley coming to rest on his chest as he curled one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. At the feel of her pressed against him, Steve let out a soft moan

“God I’ve been waiting for this all night” he mumbled and Katie grinned against his lips.

“Well like I tell the kids, a little patience goes a long way Stevie.” she purred and Steve shrugged, his hands dropping to the back of her thighs as he easily lifted her, her heel-clad legs wrapping around his waist.

“And as you know when it comes to you baby girl, I have very little self-control.”

“Don’t I know it, there’s reason we have 4 biological kids.” she pondered for a moment and Steve laughed as her lips met his again and her hands raked into his hair, her nails biting gently against his scalp.

With steady strides, Steve carried her over to the spot in front of the fireplace where he gently set her on her feet and knelt in front of her. The light of the fire cast a bronze glow against her smooth skin and taking his time to simply enjoy the moment, his hands traced up the back of her calves to her thighs, his touch feather light as he reached up to her ass. He gave her flesh a squeeze before pulling her forward a little and her hands reached out to rest on his shoulders for support as he pushed his head under the bottom of the lace garment, nose skimming along the waistband of her panties. He peppered hot, open mouthed kisses across her soft skin, before he dropped his head lower and nudged his nose over her covered mound. She whimpered a little as he brushed her nub and her hips moved forward, seeking him out.

“Now who’s impatient?” He looked up at her and she glanced down, arching an eyebrow.

“It may have escaped your notice…” she took a deep breath “My self-control is also pretty non-existent around you too.”

“Well, I’m not one to keep a lady waiting” Steve smirked and in a swift movement he hooked an arm round her waist causing her to shriek a little before she laughed as he deposited her gently on the rug, caging her with his arms. He glanced down at her, brunette waves fanning out over the light grey and black of the soft tuft wool and leaned down, his nose nudging against hers.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” she frowned a little, as Steve brushed his lips over hers.

“Good, now remember that. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Katie barely had time to register what he said before he’d moved down her body, hands skating up the outside of her thighs where his fingers bunched in her panties. With a sharp tug he’d snapped the elastic and tossed them to one side, grabbing her ankles and moving her feet so they were planted on the floor, the heels she was wearing caused her pelvis to raise up off her floor slightly. Without another word he pushed her knees apart and his mouth was on her, and he wasn’t holding back.

Katie’s body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work, devouring her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, which in all fairness he was. He was low key horny around her all the time and he’d been sporting a fucking semi pretty much since the first time they’d been interrupted that evening. Having her so close yet out of reach all night so to speak had driven him wild.

His tongue licked, and lapped, flicked and curled over and over and Katie’s groans and pants grew louder and louder as he worked her into a frenzy. She curled the fingers of one hand into his hair, the other gripping at the rug underneath her as she arched her back even more, pushing herself against his face as her head began to spin. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her entire body into overdrive and Steve could tell. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth, inserting 2 fingers inside her, both actions causing her hips to violently buck, her nails dug further into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Steve…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes which shimmered in the light of the fire, full of a blaze of their own as he continued, his tongue flicking at her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her legs trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex. He moved his head back but his fingers stayed exactly where they were, curling against the soft sponge of her walls as she clamped down around them, giving a little groan as she did, her legs flopping down flat on the floor. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Steve pushed himself up, wiping his wet face with the back of his forearm and crawled over her, cupping her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers. Katie moaned wantonly into his mouth as she could taste her arousal as his mouth dominated hers before he pulled back, his thumb and forefinger gently gripping her chin making her eyes open and lock onto his.

“On your knees sweetheart.” His tone was low as he used his Captain’s voice to issue the instruction, telling her not to argue. Not that she would, as mouthy and stubborn as she was this was the one area of their relationship in which she was always willing to surrender to him completely. With a graceful movement she pulled her legs back towards her and turned her body, rising to her knees, palms planted on the floor.

Steve pushed the waistband of his sweats and boxers down before he moved his hands to her hips, pulling her back with a swift action, placing one palm on the base of her back. With the other he took his throbbing cock in his hand, gave himself a few quick strokes before he lined himself up. With a snap of his hips he buried himself in her heat, balls deep, jolting her forward. The rumble from his throat slipped out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her, drowning her cries out.

His pace was relentless from the outset, just as it had been when he’d worked her with his mouth and his hands gripped her waist tightly as he drove in and out of her over and over, in fast, deep movements, pulling her back onto him with each thrust he made. He watched her face as her head fell forward between her arms, her bottom lip clamped between her lip, eyes closed in pleasure, those dirty little noises she made joined the sound of skin slapping skin as he did just as he’d said he was going to do, and fucked her hard.

It was raw, animalistic even, and a far cry from the usual way Steve liked to love on her but hell, it felt just as good to Katie as anything he ever did and after a particularly deep drive she cried out, fisting her hands into the rug, as she felt him bend over her, his large frame crowding hers from behind.

“God you feel so good baby…” he groaned, his chest was pressed to her back, his mouth nipping at that spot on her neck as she felt the heat pooling in her belly again. In an almost automatic movement, her head rolled to the left, allowing him access to her neck where he nipped and sucked at her skin, her gasps growing louder as he continued to thrust. “So fuckin’ good…”

As he spoke, Steve reached up and wrapped one large hand around her neck, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Katie could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations.

“Captain…” she panted softly against his mouth as Steve gave an almost pathetic whine at the sound of that name slipping from her throat as he continued to push into her, driving deep before he stilled, his hips flush to her ass. Katie gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, letting go of her neck and pushing himself back up as his hand slid down her body, between her legs drawing a long wail of delight from her mouth as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…Steve I’m gonna...”

“Go on, come for me baby…” he hissed, his jaw clenched, the sweat beading on his brow as he rutted forward again, once more grinding against her “Give it to me, let go…”

With a last, loud, filthy lament she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Steve’s arm quickly looped around her waist holding her up as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl.” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me.” Katie preened at his praise, relaxing slightly as he bent over and kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. And then, she pushed back suddenly catching Steve off guard, sending him sprawling onto his back. She went with him, his cock still stuffed inside her, her back sliding on his chest as he continued to fuck up into her, his knees bent, feet flat on the floor. Katie’s head fell back against his shoulder, her face tilting to kiss his as she lay on him, legs spread, feet planted either side of his hips. His hand crept over her stomach, dipping into her folds as his fingers and palm furiously toyed and played with her, brushing against his shaft as he rocked in and out of his wife.

“Steve…” she whined “I can’t…it’s too much…” “You got one more in you…” he all but growled, “I know you do. And I’m taking it, whether you want me to or not.”

True to his word he continued his unyielding assault on her senses and before long her breathing had risen and his name was slipping from Katie’s lips in that familiar staccato pant. She gave in, and this time the climax almost feeble but still just as pleasurable as she fluttered around him. At the feel of her round him, and the sound of the exhausted, sultry groan she let out into his hear Steve was done for, and with a final, violent buck upwards he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

The pair of them lay still, chests heaving  and Katie licked her lips, eyes closed as she waited for her body to gain some form of control over itself. After a little while, she felt Steve’s hands gently slid up her side to the outside of her arms, giving a gentle rub as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“You ok?” he asked.

Katie hummed a little and grinned, tipping her face round to look at him “I’ll say…that was…”

“Yeah…” Steve nodded, the pair of them chuckling. “It was worth the wait.”

Katie’s head lolled back against his shoulder and she closed her eyes again. Not wanting to move just yet, the feeling of her lay over the top of him whilst he was still buried inside her was too nice, Steve wrapped his arms around her front as he shifted slightly so he could press a kiss to her lips. She wiggled her hips a little and he gave a low grunt at the sensation and he looked at her as she arched an eyebrow.

“You want more?” he asked, his voice low and she fixed him with a look that was half suggestive, half apprehension as to whether she could actually take anymore. Steve grinned and pressed his lips back to hers, the kiss deepening as he felt himself starting to grow hard inside her again, and just as he had pushed her up into a sitting position, backwards on his lap, the security system sounded and the front door clicked open.

Katie’s head turned back to look at him over her shoulder, both faces sporting expressions of utter horror as Emmy and Peter’s voices drifted up the hall.

“Shit…” Katie jumped up, glancing down at herself as Steve scrambled to his feet, tucking himself into his pants, hastily yanking at the crotch in an attempt to make them a little less snug, so to speak.

“Give me your shirt…” Katie hissed and he reached over, grabbing a fistful of it in his hand. Yanking it over his head he tossed it to her and she shoved it on over her skimpy little outfit, before she kicked off her heels, and she’d just smoothed her hair down when the door to the lounge opened. Emmy and Peter stopped dead. Peter hastily turned away as Emmy’s eyes roved over Steve’s shirtless form, then to Katie who was stood in his Henley which thankfully was big enough to cover her body down to the middle of her thighs, hiding the red lace garment underneath. Whilst they might have hidden their modesty for the most part, there was no hiding the fact both of their faces were flushed with exhaustion and sexual gratification…nor was there any disguising the fact Katie was stood with her legs crossed in a desperate attempt to stop Steve’s release from dribbling down her leg. And then just to make it even more obvious, Katie’s shredded red lace panties were dumped in the middle of the floor right by her discarded heels…

“Jesus Christ…” Emmy mumbled, backing out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Katie and Steve glanced at one another, and Katie burst out laughing at the look of utter horror on Steve’s face.

“Cheer up Steve…” she patted his chest “Could have been worse.”

“Seriously?”  he blinked “What could be worse than basically being caught in flagrante by our daughter and that boy?”

“Ok, first off, his name is Pete…and actually I can think of a few things.” Katie shrugged, bending down to pick up her shoes and her destroyed underwear “Had she come in like 2 minutes earlier she’d have caught us in a much more compromising position…or even worse than that, we could have walked in on her.”

“Doll, just don’t!” Steve held his hand up, giving a groan.

Katie laughed and made her way to the door. “I’m going upstairs to clean up and get in bed, can you bring me a bottle of water up please?”

Steve sighed and nodded, watching her go. Taking a deep breath he wandered into the kitchen were Emmy was stood scowling, leaning against the kitchen counter as she glared as his topless form, Pete hastily averting his eyes.

“You two are disgusting.” Emmy shook her head “It’s bad enough hearing you in your bedroom but…fucking hell Dad!”

“Watch your mouth Emily.” Steve said sternly as he felt the heat rising in his neck. He made his way to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he straightened up. “We weren’t expecting you back so early.”

“Clearly.” Emmy arched an eyebrow.

“You know what?” Steve’s temper flared a little “This is mine and your Ma’s house, and well, frankly, we’ll do what we want, where we want.”

At that Peter gave a little cough and pushed himself up off the counter, “I’m gonna…yeah…” he said, pointing to the utility room door “I’ll be in the cabin Em.”

Neither Steve nor Emmy paid him any attention as he scuttled off, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Dad!” Emmy spluttered, her face in her hand as she shook her head “That was so embarrassing!”

“Well it wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs for us either you know Em!” Steve groaned “Like, seriously, why did you even come in here anyway? You don’t need to come through the house to get to your annex!”

“We were hungry.” She whined, “Mom said she’d leave us something in the fridge although frankly, now I’ve lost my appetite.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face before he shook his head, taking a deep breath “I’m gonna go up to bed. Can we just forget this happened, please?”

“I’d love to.” Emmy practically growled as she made her way towards the rear of the kitchen. “God, I need to scrub my eyes with bleach…once you’ve finished using it to mop wherever you were…you know.”

Steve arched an eyebrow and that little devil on his shoulder reared his, or her as the case may be,  head and he couldn’t help the sarcastic response as it flew from his mouth “I hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I’d need a lot of bleach to wash down each surface of this house I’ve had your mother on.”

Emmy’s mouth fell open and she looked at him, before she let out a loud groan. “You’re disgusting. Like, I can’t even…”

She shook her head and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. Steve shook his head, watched as the security light clicked on whilst she stormed across the back garden to her little annex and with a chuckle he made sure the door was locked and turned off the lights.

All in all it had been a damned good day now he thought about it. He’d carved pumpkins with his kids, seen them all have a great time, eaten Italian, drunk beer, chatted to his friends, fucked his wife exceptionally well and now embarrassed his eldest.

“Mission accomplished…” he snorted to himself as he took the stairs two at a two, padding across the hallway and entering his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

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