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#dad!steve x parent!reader
urhoneycombwitch · 17 days
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okay I’m thinking about It.
your two girls are old enough now for sleepovers at Auntie Rob and Aunt Vick’s house, so one evening you load up their backpacks with all the comforts of home and kiss them goodbye. then you and Steve have a kid-free house all to yourselves for the first time in AGES.
and you’re both so giddy with freedom that Steve breaks out that bottle of fancy wine his parents had sent years ago when they heard about the wedding (weren’t invited, for a multitude of reasons) and decide to get goofy with it. intending to dance in the living room and fuck on the couch and be willdddd. but unfortunately this Thing happens when you become a parent that neither of you realize until a glass and a half later. and you both get toasted. off not even two cups of white wine.
giggling over each other while trying to cook popcorn. burning it by accident and collapsing into a laugh attack. arguing with sloppy points about who should win TV show-choosing privileges. until Steve Wins and puts on Perry Mason 😑
you end up falling asleep on the couch in each other’s arms which sounds so romantic except everything hurts from not sleeping in your regular positions on a real mattress. and Steve’s like Christ is this really what it’s like to get old?? then puts his glasses on and is like Okay. Gameplan. We have two hours until we have to pick up our kids. Let’s make another one before we leave? and ur like Jesus Harrington it’s SEVEN IN THE MORNING
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littlebabyyd0ll · 8 months
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KINKTOBER DAY FIVE, FIRST TIME PARENTS
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After your daughter’s very first birthday, you and Steve admire the life that you’ve made for yourselves together.
Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!reader
Warnings: Not much, talk of birth and Steve’s horrible parents. Talk of being young parents. Reader is described to have long hair.
Enjoy!
Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023
It’s quiet. 
Too quiet. There hasn’t been a moment like this since Laila was born, a whole year ago. To the day. You spent Halloween night last year with a scrunched up, sweating face and pushing with all your might. One good thing comes with having a child born on an evening of festivities — birthday parties. Yours and Steve’s home comes alive on her birthday, with people celebrating and bringing their own little ones, everyone dressed up as characters from books or TV shows. Yourself and Steve had dressed as Leia and Han, with Laila snuggled down in an ewok onesie. Steve had insisted on you dressing up as her namesake – since you had refused to name your actual daughter leia. Steve, in his ever loving and altruistic glory, had let you have your way. It’s not very often that Steve doesn't bend over backwards to make you happy, and he’s come so far to the teenage douchebag that tried to hook up with you at a halloween party in your Junior year. 
You look up at your husband now, tucked up in his chest as he stares over the bars of your daughter’s crib, and you’ve never seen something more beautiful, so peaceful. You admire him as he admires the creation that you made together. His hair is falling from the hours of wear on the spray, half of the luscious locks covering his forehead. His white shirt is untucked from his blue jeans, Han’s signature belt discarded somewhere. Your own outfit is a mess too, crinkled up, a stain from Layla’s throw-up hours earlier resting on your shoulders, hair let down from the signature buns. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as you stare up at your lover, your height difference even more prominent without your party shoes on. He’s so soft, so soft despite everything he’s been through, despite the scars lining his back, despite the viscous words from his asshole father, despite the way that everyone believed that he would grow into nothing – probably spend the rest of his life at Family Video after he chose not to pursue college. He’s so kind, so caring, so loving. The man has nothing but love in his heart for you, for the baby that lies peacefully asleep. 
He doted on you desperately while you were pregnant, and has been the same ever since Layla arrived. 
He dotes on you now, without realising it. One of his large hands stokes down the length of your hair. The other warms the curve of your waist, and his heartbeat is enough to settle your own. Though it beats much faster every time you look at him. 
“We have a one year old.” He acknowledges lowly, in those voices that you use to try not to wake her. Still, he speaks like he can’t believe it, and neither can you. The time has flown by so quick. 
You hum in reply, pushing your face a little deeper into his chest. You can’t wait to give him his dream, provide a family of Harringtons that love and adore one another. Harringtons that support each others dreams and aspirations, that believe in one another despite all else. You can’t wait until that next positive test, to give him another baby, to see him flourish in the same way that he does with Layla, being her father. He’s perfect. 
“She looks more and more like you every day.” It's not strictly true, because Layla most definitely looks more like Steve, with her button nose and dark brown irises, she only really has your hair. But still, you entertain his notion. 
“She’s the prettiest little girl in the world.” 
Finally, he looks down at you. His hand is still moving against your hair, and he tucks some away behind your ear. His lips curl upwards at the way you look up at him, the same way that you looked at him when he very first saved you from the Demogorgon. It’s a look that says you’d never accept another fate, never breathe in a universe that doesn't have him in it, and where he isn't yours to keep. You look at him like he hung the moon and stars, with your chin against his beating chest. He would never trade anything for this – for his girls. 
“You’re my girl.” He murmurs before dropping a kiss on your lips, then to your forehead. “My two girls. Given me the best life I could’ve ever asked for, you know that?” He gets sentimental a lot, but it still pulls at your heartstrings and has your eyes filling with tears. He places his hands on each of your rosy cheeks, thumbs swiping at the tears that fall. Because, suddenly, you've realised that you're the luckiest girl in the world. Perfect husband. Perfect daughter. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me. Made my dreams come true.”
“I love you,” You croak between tears, and you wish that your motherly hormones would give you a days rest. 
Steve presses his lips to yours once more, before tucking you back into his chest. He releases a heavy sigh as you both look down into the crib. “I love you so much. I love you both more than anything in the world.”
And in the moment of silence that follows, you thank your lucky stars that they gifted you with such devout love, and the most handsome boy in Hawkins.
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eddiesghxst · 9 months
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oh my god
this is gonna be a fic right? you’ve got me like 👀👀👀
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god can u imagine having to go to all the kids things together (because obviously steve refuses to be an absent father, even if you piss each other off, he’ll gladly suck it up to make sure his kids never have to relate with steve about his relationship with his parents)
having to begrudgingly put up with each other at soccer games, parent teacher meetings, school plays, etc.
omfg and during the holiday season steve always spends it with your family because he doesn’t talk to his parents. and usually you two are extraaaaa soft around that time bc for a moment you get to play house as if nothing ever went wrong. but then this year you start dating someone during the holiday season and you invite him over for the gangs friendsgiving and steve has to spend the entire day watching you be all cozied up with some guy and well… steve doesn’t like that… he despises that actually
HMM MAYBE I COULD TYPE SOMETHING UP WHEN I HAVE SOME TIMEEE
IVE GOT A FEW WIPS I WANNA WORK ON FIRST BUT IF I DO WRITE THIS I THINK I MIGHT SAVE IT FOR THE HOLIDAYSSS🫣
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fantasylandloser · 10 months
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marriage pact
summary: besties that plan to get married
warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2
update here is part 2
****
Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 
Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 
You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.
Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.
“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.
“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 
“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.
“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.
The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 
“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 
“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.
When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.
“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.
When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 
Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  
“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 
When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.
“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 
“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.
“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.
You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.
Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.
“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.
He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.
Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.
“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 
“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.
“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.
“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.
“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 
You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.
“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.
Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”
“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 
When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 
“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 
“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”
“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  
“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 
Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.
*****
Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 
But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.
“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 
“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.
“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 
“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 
And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.
“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 
The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 
When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 
“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.
“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.
“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 
“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 
“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 
Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 
“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.
You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 
“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 
“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.
“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 
Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 
You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 
“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.
“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 
“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.
“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.
A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 
Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 
He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 
“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 
“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 
“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.
“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.
“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 
Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.
“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.
“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.
“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 
“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.
“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.
You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 
Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 
“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 
When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 
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imtryingbuck · 20 days
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His Flower.
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky and Y/n have known each other since they were babies, they love each other but don’t say anything until Bucky goes to war.
Word count: 11,963
Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of cheating (not Bucky) mentions of domestic abuse. Swearing. Steve never visits Peggy when she’s old. Bucky knew about Steve getting the serum. Pregnancy. Sad Bucky (that’s a warning in itself) Bucky was accused of the bombing in Vienna in 2015 in this. Blip happens but none of the avengers get blipped nor do any of them die. There’s a lot…so if I’ve missed anything please let me know
Masterlist
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May 21st 1922
“Y/n stop running!”
“No”
“Why?”
“You have the lurgy”
Winnie and Y/m/n was standing in the shared courtyard laughing at the two five year olds as James ran after Y/n, the latter running as fast as her little legs could move.
The two women became friends rather quickly after Y/n, her mom and dad moved in next door just when Y/n was a year old. Baby James and Y/n spent everyday since they were introduced to each other, together.
“Those two…” Winnie laughed with a shake of her head as James finally grabs ahold of Y/n, her screams of laughter makes both mothers laugh along.
That was until the screams of laughter turns in to screams of pain.
James tripped over a loose concrete slab, in turn knocking into Y/n causing her to fall face first on the ground. Smacking her face and cracking her tooth.
“I-I-I’m sor-sorry Y/n I’m sorry” James cried backing up as their mothers came rushing over. His tiny hands shook as tears streamed down his puffy cheeks, he could see the blood flowing from her lips when her mom picked her up.
“Mo-momma it wa-was acciden-t I promise”
“I know sweetie, it’s okay” Winnie said after she helped her friend. Seeing her son shaking and crying as he backs up to the wall furthest away from them broke her heart, she and Y/m/n knew it was an accident and they both knew that James would never hurt his friend.
“I-it was accident” he hiccuped.
“Wan’ Jamie, mama wan’ Jamie”
Hearing her teary voice he pushed himself off the wall and ran around his ma going straight to Y/n. “I got you” whispering in to her hair as he wraps his arms around her.
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December 24th 1922
As the fire crackled next to James and Y/n as they played with his toy trains and cars Y/n’s parents argued in the kitchen, from what Y/n could tell from this latest argument was that her dad had been fucking another woman. Again.
“Jamie what fucking mean?”
“I don’t know. I think it makes you cry”
“Mama always cries when dada fucking other women”
James shrugs, honestly feeling a little bit scared because of the raised voices and things being slammed down on the counters though he was just five years old he was trying to be brave in front of his friend.
The voices got louder as Y/n’s mom was pushing her dad into the hallway, screaming at him that this was the last time and for him to never come back. A photo frame that hung up on the wall falls and smashes loudly on the floor causing James to flinch, Y/n notices and takes his hand in hers smiling - she’s grown accustomed to the bangs, screaming matches and things being broken that it doesn’t bother her anymore.
James flinched once again when the front door opens and slams shut with a deafening bang. His scared wide eyes looked at Y/n’s, she gets up and moves to sit next to him as her mom screams once more and stomps up the stairs no doubt to chuck all of her fathers clothes out of the window.
“I got you”
She promised as she wraps her small arms around his body.
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March 10th 1923
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE”
Y/n screamed as she ran over to him, she was so excited for his birthday she had made him a card and got him a new wooden train.
“Ahhh who are you little monster?” He screamed when she jumped on his back.
“‘M not a monster”
“You are”
“Not”
“Are”
“Kids stop arguing, you’re both monsters” Winnie laughed hugging Y/m/n.
“It’s my birthday Flower”
“No it’s my birthday”
“No it isn’t”
Both moms roll their eyes as the kids continue to argue, heading into the kitchen leaving both of them to stand in the hallway arguing.
Y/m/n was sipping the coffee that Winnie had made her, Winnie expressed how happy she was for her friend for not taking back her husband, though finding it sad that he hadn’t been around to see Y/n. Luckily George stepped up and had even brought the five year old a present for Christmas.
“Mama where is present?” Y/n asked running up to her mom.
“Here sweetie and here’s the card you made” handing over the present and card, Y/n smiled and thanked her.
“Here you go Jamie. I made the card all by myself!”
“Thank you Flower” opening the card he smiles at her messy handwriting and the drawing of him and her that she drew. James gave her a kiss on her cheek before handing the card over to Winnie, then he opened the brown paper wrapping. “Flower…”
“It’s a train Jamie”
“I-thank you so much!” James had his other one stolen from Jimmy who lived across the street, mean kid who loved to bully younger kids.
“It’s okay. Do you like it?”
“I love it Flower”
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June 2nd 1930
James and Y/n were walking down the street talking about how school went when James grabbed her hand causing her to pull it away and blush, giggling when he tried to grab her again.
“Flower stop, listen do you hear that?”
“No-wait now I do, what is it? Do you think it’s an animal? Can we keep it?”
“Yeah because animals can speak” he rolls his eyes, moving towards the entrance of the alleyway where the noise was coming from he turned to Y/n “stay here-“
“No I’m coming with you!”
“No you’re not. Just stay here”
Nodding in defeat Y/n watched him walk down the alleyway, a few minutes later she sees Jimmy and his goons running out and down the street. Running in the direction that James went she came to a halt when she saw him picking up a guy who was a lot smaller than him.
“Jamie who’s that?”
“Flower I told you stay where I told you to”
“Who is that?”
“M-my names Steve” the blonde said fixing his shirt.
“Hello Steve my names Y/n and this is James” moving closer to them she held her hand out to the blonde, turning to James “can we keep him?”
“Y/n he’s not an animal”
“But can we? We can be best friends forever and ever and ever and-“
“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited sometimes” James said to Steve both watching Y/n go bright red as she continued to say ‘and ever’. “Flower breath”
“And ever and ever, please Jamie can we keep him I’ll be good forever and ever and ever-“
“Do you want to be our friend? Please say yes just to shut this one up”
Steve looked at both of them debating whether or not this was a prank, he’d gotten so use to being alone that the prospect of having two new friends scared him. But he could see the hopeful look in Y/n’s and James’s eyes, maybe just maybe this wasn’t a prank and maybe they genuinely want to be his friend.
“So…” Y/n asked getting impatient.
“O-ok, yes I’ll be your friend”
“Amazing! Come on we’re going to Mollys to get a burger-“
“And a milkshake! Have you ever been to Mollys? They make the best milkshake ever don’t they Jamie, they do so Stevie I swear”
“I apologise for her” James started.
Steve just smiled and shook his head “it’s okay bu-but I don’t have any money so I can’t come with you”
“Don’t worry about it Stevie I’ll pay for you. My father’s dead so we got money” Steve’s eyes went wide at how nonchalantly Y/n said that her father was dead.
“I-I’m sorry-“
“Don’t be I didn’t like him, so what milkshake do you want? They have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. My favourite is strawberry and chocolate and Jamies is chocolate”
“Oh I-I’ve never had-“
James rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. Steve looked at him wondering what he had said wrong when Y/n loudly gasped and threw herself on the ground.
“Flower-“
“He. Has. Never. Had. Milkshake. Before. Jamie”
“I know-“
“I-how, how does this even happen?”
“You going to get off the floor?”
“I can’t”
James leans over to take her hand in his and helped her stand. “Next time don’t throw yourself on the ground, your ma will get mad at you for ruining your skirt again”
“Come on Steve I’m going to blow your mind with the best milkshake in the world” ignoring James’s words she grabbed Steve’s hand and started to drag him to Mollys.
“Flower stop dragging him and be careful!”
To be truthful Steve didn’t honestly mind that she was dragging him along the pavement, he was quite excited about trying something new.
“Sooo whatcha think?” Y/n asked as soon as the glass was put in front of him.
“Flower he hasn’t even tried it yet” James laughed though he did have to admit that he was also wondering what his new friend was going to think of the drink.
Taking the straw in his mouth he took slow sips, liking the way it tasted straight away. “It’s good, I like it”
“Yes!” Y/n screamed causing some of the customers to look at her, not like she cared.
Luanne came over to serve them, she was an older lady who had grown use to the antics that James and Y/n liked to cause. As soon as she saw the two coming down the street she always had their milkshakes at the ready, knowing that on Monday, Tuesday and Friday Y/n had strawberry and the other days chocolate.
“Your usual darlings?”
“Yes please, Stevie what do you want?”
“I-I don’t have mo-“
“It’s on me I told you. We get burger and fries and they are the best”
“I-are you sure?”
“The best ever I promise”
“N-no about buying me food…you’ve already brought me a drink”
“Don’t be silly, do you want the same at us?”
“Okay, thank you”
Luanne smiled and walked away back to behind the counter. Steve watched as James or Bucky as he told him to call him, put his arm around Y/n’s shoulder and point at someone walking down the street. He couldn’t help but smile when Y/n laughed at whatever Bucky had said.
The food had come and true to her word it was amazing, Luanne came back over to hand them new drinks winking at Y/n who winked back, he found out that the second milkshakes were free. For the first time in Steve’s life he laughed and smiled genuinely, he had no idea that being beat up in some dingy alleyway would lead him to be making two new friends who actually seemed like they cared about him already.
Steve knew he had made two friends for life.
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14th February 1931
“Hey Stevie” Y/n sang as she skipped up to him.
“Hey Y/n/n you still doing that?” Referring to her skipping, it was a new phase she was going through. Every where she went she skipped.
“Of course” she giggled.
“Where’s Bucky?”
“With his girlfriend” she grumbled. Poor James thought his best friend liked his girlfriend but Steve observant as always knew that this was indeed not the case.
“Yo-you still don’t like her I guess?”
“No. Are you okay? Is your eczema play-“
“Asthma, Y/n I have asthma”
“Oh yeah ah, is it playing up today?” Receiving a nod she nods too. “How about we walk super slow so you can catch your breath”
“I-I need to g-get back to home, n-need to help ma cle-clean up”
“That’s okay I’ll help you and your mom I don’t mind”
“A-ar-are you sure?”
“Of course, plus I’ve missed your mom”
Arriving at the Rogers’s residence Sarah greeted Y/n with a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek happy to see the young girl again. Ten minutes into cleaning Y/n told Steve to sit down as his asthma was getting worse, Sarah tried to help out but Y/n just shook her head and told her that it was fine.
She truly didn’t mind helping in cleaning up, she had grown use to having to do it at home since her mom was always working and her step father was too lazy and drunk most of the time to do it.
A year after kicking her father out of the house for the last time her mom got divorced from him as he was wanting to marry the woman he had been cheating on her with. Unfortunately her mom married another lazy man who only thought of himself.
But her mom was happy so Y/n was happy for her.
When her father died for some reason her mom received all his money. Which it had annoyed his new wife tremendously.
“It’s getting late darling, you should head home-oh just before you go here’s some mon-“
“No need to Mrs Sarah, I’ll see you tomorrow Stevie”
Waving goodbye and leaving the house before Sarah could argue about giving her money, skipping down the street she didn’t realise how dark it was when she was in the warm home that belonged to the Rogers.
As she got closer to home she came to a stop when she heard strange noises come from an alleyway, choosing to inspect the sounds she crept down the dark path, furrowing her eyebrows at hearing two different voices she was about to pop her head around before freezing.
“Oh Bucky” a girl moaned.
Slapping her hand across her mouth she started to stumble back. Of course she knew that James was going to be having sex, he was handsome and every girl wanted him, and of course she knew what they was doing she wasn’t stupid but hearing what followed after the girl moaned broke her heart.
He called his girlfriend Flower.
The name that he had always called her he was now calling someone else it. It was her nickname that he gave her since they was four and now he was calling some girl he had been dating for two  months her name.
It broke her heart.
For three weeks she had managed to successfully avoid James she knew it was silly for not talking to her best friend over a nickname that he had every right to call someone else but she just couldn’t help but feel down knowing that she wasn’t his flower anymore.
“Y/n, Bucky and Steve’s here for you” her mom shouted from the door, she could hear her talking to them from where she was stood at from the top of the stairs.
Her heart dropped when her mom told both boys just to head up to her room. Scrambling and knocking over her little brother she ran into her room, shutting the door quietly before jumping on the springy mattress causing the metal bed frame to squeak loudly.
“Knock knock little monster” she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Come in” and she also knew that he would be frowning at her response, it wasn’t the usual one she gave him.
“Hi Flower” if he noticed her tensing he didn’t say anything about it.
“Hi Y/n/n”
“Hi boys. What are you doing here?”
“Missed you, you haven’t been around much” James said watching her reaction.
“I’ve been busy” she shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.
“Doing?” James knew that she was lying, whenever she did she could never look him in the eyes.
“Things”
“What kind of things?”
“Things James! I do not understand why you are so noisy”
“Because I miss my Flower” stating it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned when she flinched at his nickname for her. “W-what was that for? Why did you flinch”
“I-I don’t know what your talking about”
“You flinched when I called you Flower”
“You did Y/n” Steve interrupted, he did hate having to come in between his best friends but he knew that if he didn’t it would probably go on and on.
“I-“ sighing with a huff she shrugged her shoulders. She knew James better than anyone she knew he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. “I heard you”
“Heard me? What are you talking about?”
“Calling your girlfriend Flower”
“I-I’ve never-”
“In the alleyway when you were having sex”
Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet whilst James stood still like a statue. He couldn’t understand what the problem was, so what he was having sex at least it was with his girlfriend, why would his best friend be upset about that?
“You called her Flower James.”
Oh. Oh shit.
“I-you-it-“
“Whatever it’s just a nickname right? I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in weeks but it hurt Jamie, but she’s your girlfriend-“
“I broke up with her”
“Right…so can we be friends again?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”
“No. I just want to be your flower again”
“You’ve always have been Y/n, nobody will take that away from you”
Sliding off the bed she jumped on James, wrapping her arms and legs around him hugging him like she had never done before.
Yes it hurt because he had called someone else the name he had given her but she realised she was being silly for not talking to him over it, he was her best friend as well as Steve and that’s all that mattered.
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December 10th 1941
The Second World War had been going on for three years and now America was getting involved after the attack on Pearl Harbour, it’s all everyone spoke about, before there was young men leaving their homes and families to go over to Britain to help fight, a fight they had no reason to be apart off other than to help beat the bad guys, now no one had a choice but to fight.
When James told Y/n that he too enlisted in the army it crushed her heart, she knew he was doing it to help defend his country but that didn’t stop her from being scared. Scared of losing him.
“I can do this all day” Steve panted as the guy tried to get closer to him and Y/n. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve’s confidence, she knew that he could not in fact do this all day. His asthma was getting the better of him.
Just as Steve was about to leap forward to defend himself and Y/n the guy was pulled away by the scruff of his jacket.
“Pick on someone your own size” James kicked the guy away, watching as the bully scramble away.
Y/n and Steve stood there frozen on the spot at seeing James dressed in his uniform.
It was really happening. She was going to lose her best friend.
“Why are you wearing that?”
“Because I’m a pirate. I’ve been recruited Flower, I ship out tomorrow” though James had a smile on his face his stomach churned at reminding himself of when he was going to fight, churned at not knowing when he was going to see his Flower or Steve again or if he ever would.
“Tomorrow? T-that’s not enough time-no Jamie you can’t-“
“I have to Y/n-“
“Tell them no.”
“You want me to tell the US Army no?”
“Yes”
“Flower”
“Or I’ll do it if your to chicken”
“Chicken? Really?”
“Guys stop arguing.” Steve tried to intervene but it was too late. He watched as his two best friends argued back and forth, feeling annoyed at the fact that he had been rejected once again no matter what name he used or what area he said he was from. And yet his best friend had been accepted by the Army and was allowed to go and fight against the bad guys.
“Anyway come on, we’re going to the Stark Expo”
What James failed to mention to the pair that he had a date with Connie or was it Bonnie? He couldn’t actually remember but whoever he was going on a date with the other girl was for Steve, he felt slightly bad that Y/n would have to be fifth wheeling even if he knew that she would end up leaving under the arm of some guy.
“-so I told him that he had to look after his own children you know? And guess what he said to me-Stevie? Ste-not again” Y/n muttered when she realised that not only had she been talking to herself for god knows how long, but when she turned around she saw the small frame of her best friend going into a recruiting tent that was set up at the Expo.
Following after him she watched as he went into a small makeshift room, entering she laughed when Steve tried to cover his naked chest.
“Steve seriously? You can’t keep doing this-“
“Why not? I can fight, just because I’m smaller then everyone including you doesn’t mean that I can’t help“
“You’d be killed straight away Steven!”
“So what?”
“So what? Steve-“
“I’ve agreed to be part of a science project for a doctor-“
“A science project? Steve what the hell are you talking about?”
“I-it doesn’t matter what does matter is that I’ve been accepted and I’m going to war”
“No. I forbid you from going”
“Forbid me?” Steve scoffed finding her behaviour stupid. He wanted to do that right thing and she was forbidding it. Ridiculous. “You can’t stop me Y/n”
“I-I don’t want to lose you too”
“What are you talking about? Buck will be fine”
“He might not Steve you don’t know this. I can’t-don’t want to lose my best friends please just stay with me here an-and wait for Ja-“
“No Y/n I’m doing this! Stop being selfish”
Being called selfish had whatever response she was going to reply back with to die on her tongue. Y/n was called selfish time and time again by her step father when she wouldn’t look after her siblings, his children. She had grown to detest that word, hated to be called it which James and Steve knew.
Steve instantly knew that he had messed up but before he could apologise he watched his best friend nod, spin on her heels and walked out.
James looked around with a smile on his lips when the flying car got higher off the ground frowning when he didn’t see Flower or Steve, his eyes darted around to find them, his left eye twitched slightly when he saw Y/n coming out of the recruiting tent he knew she had probably tried to talk to Steve out of signing up. 
Ever since the war was declared Steve had become slightly obsessed with going on the front lines along with the rest of the hero’s and fight. James and Y/n took it in turns to get Steve away from the recruiting centres, took it in turns comforting him when he got turned down because of his health problems.
Leaving the girls where they were he went to find Steve to see what had happened. “Steve seriously man just give up”
“Don’t start Buck I’ve had enough of Y/n trying to stop me.” Steve told Bucky how Dr Erskine had given him the opportunity of joining the war to the whole conversation between him and Y/n, he quietly told his best friend that he had called their friend selfish.
“You called her selfish? Steve!”
“I know okay I know I messed up but-“
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No, I thought she was going to find you”
Bucky goes to reply when he gets interrupted by the two girls that he and Steve were meant to be on a date with, asking if they were still going dancing, James sighed before telling them no he had other plans. The girls wasn’t happy but James didn’t care, he needed to find his Flower.
Saying his goodbyes to Steve he turned on his heels to go to Y/n’s house.
Knocking on the door he waited patiently for someone to open, Y/n’s little sister opened and smiled instantly showing Bucky her missing front teeth. “Y/ns in her room”
“Thanks little one”
“‘M not little anymore!” She pouted, the same pout that reminded him of Y/n’s when she was younger.
“No, no you’re not” ruffling her hair he laughed when she tried to hit him, he’s always had a habit of winding up their younger siblings.
Bounding up the stairs nearly tripping over the toy train that belonged to her younger brother he turned the corner and knocked on Y/n’s bedroom door.
“Go away”
“Wow that’s rude Flower”
“Jamie?”
“Who else is calling you flower?”
“No one”
“Are you going let me in or we going to keep talking with a door in between us?”
“You may enter”
Entering her bedroom his heart clenched in his chest at seeing her eyes and cheeks red, tear strained track marks on her puffy cheeks. Ever since they were young he’s always hated seeing her cry.
His stomach dropping when he sees the photograph in her hands, knowing exactly which one it was. James had dragged Y/n and Steve to Coney Island for the day, James made Steve go on the Cyclone which was absolutely terrifying yet amazing at the same time. Steve didn’t quite enjoy it like Bucky or Y/n as he vomited pretty much everywhere.
Winnie, had taken the photo that morning they were standing outside the home James grew up in, smiling at the camera. Y/n in the middle of the two guys, Bucky had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around Steve.
It was the only photo she had of the three of them.
“Flower…”
“He’s leaving me too, a doctor-a scientist has told him that he can join if he takes part in an experiment James. I-I don’t want to lose you both Jamie”
“Hey-hey your not losing either one of us doll-“
“But I am. This war is dangerous and if I lose either one of you I-I-“
“I promise you that I’ll come back-“
“You can’t promise me that Buck”
“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, you know this. And I’ll always come back to you Y/n, always. Especially if you let me make an honest woman out of you” his voice went quieter, serious, hopeful that she would hear the genuine words that he spoke.
“You…want to-after going on a date with someone else on your last night of freedom-want to make an honest woman out of me?”
“I, yes. Y/n flower it’s always been you”
“I should be the one making an honest woman out of you-wait-what?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her facial expression when she finally registers his words “I’ve been in love with you for so long Y/n”
“And you’re telling me this the night before you ship off to god knows where?”
“You know me Flower, I’ve always been good with timing”
“You really aren’t” she laughed.
“Am too. But what do you say? When I get back I’ll marry you, get us a nice house maybe on a farm? We can have all the animals you want-yes even a dinosaur even though they don’t exist-and we’ll have children, and we can be happy forever”
“Y-you really want that with me?”
“There’s no one else in this world that I want that life with Flower”
Instead of verbally answering she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding so fast Bucky thought her head might fall off. Bucky held her face in between his hands just staring at her, he knew that she would never see herself in the same way he has always seen her, he lent in pressing his lips to hers hopefully being able to show her how much he loved her without saying those words out loud.
That night they slept arm in arm with one another both equally dreading for the sun to come up.
When the sun finally made an appearance, he left with the promise that he would be back in an hour so that their families could walk him to the docks, and not without stealing another kiss from her.
Hand in hand an hour later with Winnie, Rebecca, Y/m/n, Y/n’s stepdad and siblings met up with Steve who was waiting outside Mollys with three milkshakes. Everyone walked ahead whilst the three best friends walked slowly behind them, wanting to try and delay the inevitable.
“My promise still stands Flower, I’ll come home and we’ll have the perfect life together. I promise”
“You best come home to me then Jamie or I’ll beat you up”
“Wouldn’t doubt that for a second” he chuckled, everyone else joins in. “I promise to be safe and come home to you Flower. And I’ll write to you when I can okay?”
“I’ll write back to you I promise.”
When the last signal called for all soldiers to get on the ship, Bucky swallowed the sob that tried to make its way out of his plumb lips. Hugging his ma and sister one last time, and his best friends mom and siblings before making his way to Steve, hugging Steve he asked the blonde to look after Y/n which Steve promised he would. Standing in front of Y/n he smiled sadly and wiped her tears away before kissing her one last time, he’d already grown addicted to the way she tasted and the way her lips fit perfectly against his.
He couldn’t wait until he got back so he could spend the rest of his life kissing her.
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March 15th 1942
“Y/n there’s a letter here for you!” Her little sister shouted from the bottom of the stairs, there was only one person that would be writing to her, hearing her sister she fell out of the bed with how fast she was trying to get out of it, running down the stairs she grabbed the letter out of her sisters hand.
“Y/n slow down” her mom tried to warn her but it was no use she was already running back upstairs. The excitement getting the better of her. Ripping open the envelope she settled back on her bed.
***
Dear Flower,
It’s been three months since I last saw you and I’m missing you more and more everyday, how are you? Have you been missing me? How’s Steve been? I’ve wrote to him too but I know you’ll tell me the truth.
I’m still holding on to my promise I made so don’t be finding any other man, please.
I’m sorry it’s not the longest letter but I don’t have much time, I’m sorry.
I love you Flower, I should have told you that the last time I saw you but just know I do with all my heart, I’ll see you soon.
All my love
Your Jamie.
***
“So…what did he say?” Y/n was so engrossed in the letter she didn’t hear her bedroom door squeak open or see her mom and sister standing in the doorway.
“H-he said he loves me, momma he loves me”
“Have you only just noticed?”
“What?”
“That boy has been in love with you for as long as I can recall” her mom said as matter of factly.
“I-I need paper a-an-and a pen I need to tell him that I love him too”
Her mom smiled before handing her a piece of paper and a pen that she hid behind her back, she even gave her money so she could get a stamp to put on the letter.
***
Dear Jamie,
I love you.
I’ve been doing good, helping down at the factory with the rest of the women it’s good, I’ve made a friend her names Dot her husband is also fighting, she’s got two kids and Jamie they are the cutest little kids I’ve seen! Of course I have been missing you Jamie! Steve’s doing okay, he’s got a crush on a British woman names Peggy (but don’t tell him I told you that) she’s pretty, smart and really nice. I think she likes him too!
No other man will take me away from you Jamie I promise, I can’t wait to marry you and be able to wind you up for the rest of our lives together, I’m joking. Or am I?
Don’t apologise for your letter being short, anything is better than not having any from you, as long as you are okay and safe that’s all that matters to me.
I love you with all my heart to Jamie, honestly and truly.
Be safe and come home to me.
All my love
Your Flower.
***
Folding the letter and sliding it in an envelope her mom had given her when she was writing, she slipped her letter into the envelope sealing it off she ran downstairs slipping her shoes on she ran out of the house and down the street to the post office.
“A-a s-stamp pl-please” she panted at the worker.
The second the stamp was sealed securely on her envelope she posted it. Her heart raising rapidly, the temptation to just stand there and wait for the mailman to collect all the letters was there until someone cleared their throat from behind her.
“Sorry, I’m sorry” she muttered before leaving, now she just had to wait now until Bucky wrote her back. Shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.
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June 21st 1943
She last received a letter from James three months ago, he told her where he was and how he was doing, told her all about his comrades, told her that he’d come back to her. Ended that letter like the rest, with him telling her how much he loved her. Writing back as quickly as possible she told him how things were going, telling him about her news friends from the factory, and like all the others she ended it with telling him how much she loved him.
Everyday for three months she waited patiently for a letter to come, sighing deeply when she never received one. She was starting to get nervous at the prospect of something bad happening to him, but she kept pushing that thought away as she saw Rebecca everyday at the factory and she hadn’t said anything to her.
Six months after James left for war Y/n moved to a small apartment above the post office, it was small but enough for just her. One night after finishing her shift at the factory, Mary who worked at the post office came running out to her handing her a letter, Y/n ran up the stairs struggled to open her front door like always before she managed to get it to open, quickly closing and locking the door - keeping her promise to James who had made her promise to keep her front door locked at all times.
***
Dear Flower,
I’ve missed you terribly. How are you? I hope you’re okay and safe.
How’s Steve doing? He’s not been really responding to my letters. I’m a bit worried about him.
I’m sorry my letters are getting shorter, it’s just things have been hectic lately.
You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day and night, I’ll come home soon and I’m all yours forever I promise.
I love you more than anything Y/n.
All my love
Your Jamie.
***
Wiping her tears she moved to get her paper and pen, settling on her couch she started to write.
***
Dear Jamie,
I’m missing you more and more every day, I’m doing okay and I’m safe, you do not need to worry about me just as long as you are safe and sound that’s all that matters to me.
Steve will be getting the serum tomorrow (22nd June) I’m scared for him but Peggy has told me that everything will be okay. She’s even said I can come along too, Rebecca has said she will cover my shift because she’s an angel. Steve’s been busy but he’s okay I promise, oh…he jumped on a grenade BUT don’t worry it wasn’t a real one! I screamed and cried when Peggy told me, then I smacked Steve…he deserved it.
I’ve already told you not to worry about the shortness of your letters, I reread every single one of them over and over again.
You’re in my thoughts and prayers day in and day out.
I love you more and more than you’ll ever know. 
All my love
Your Flower.
***
Sealing the letter in the envelope she unlocked the door and skipped downstairs where Mary unlocked the door and handed her a stamp, Mary knew the routine that Y/n had every time she got a letter that she waited long after closing so her new friend could post it that same day.
“Thanks Mary”
“Don’t need to thank me, how is he?”
“He didn’t say…but he said he misses me, it’s hectic over there so”
“It’s understandable, are you meeting Steve and that Brit tomorrow?”
“Peggy-“ Y/n laughed “-and yes, it’s a very big day tomorrow”
“What’s happened again?”
“H-he has a special operation and I’m just going for emotional support” she smiled, Peggy told her not to say anything to anyone but Mary had overheard Y/n talking to Steve about it. So she told her Mary that it was an operation he was having.
“Well I hope it goes well. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight darling”
The next morning Y/n waited outside for Steve and Peggy to show up, nearly ten minutes later a sleek black car pulled up and Peggy got out greeting her. Instantly regretting sitting in the middle of two people who were flirting, made worse by Steve as he didn’t realise that Peggy was in fact flirting.
Just like the car ride Y/n blanked out most of what Dr Erskine was waffling on about, her eyes kept going to the bed where Steve lay strapped in to Howard Stark, still slightly star struck.
Everything happened next was lost on her. Her heart raced when she heard Steve screaming in the chamber, a beast of a man was released from said chamber it looked like Steve, her best friend Stevie but this guy was huge. Strong. Muscly. Taller.
Before Steve had to look up to her and now it was the other way around. He said her name and smiled, he pulled her into his arms as she gaped at her best friend’s transformation. Steve released her to look at Peggy as she moved closer.
The unmistakable bang of a gun firing sounded in the room, Steve wasted no time in knocking Y/n on the ground covering her body with his. Dr Erskine had been shot, Steve took off barefoot after the gunman, Y/n’s hands were drenched in blood as she tried to put pressure on the wound, Howard Stark helping her by covering his hands over hers.
It all happened in a blur.
It all happened to fast.
She didn’t like it, she was scared.
She wanted Jamie.
She was always safe with her Jamie.
“Y/n? Y/n look at me love, it’s Peggy. I need you to concentrate”
But she couldn’t. There was too much blood. There was chaos in the background and the only thing she could focus on was the shaking of her hands covered in someone else’s blood.
“Y/n please darling snap out of it” that sounded a lot like Howard she thought to herself.
She could hear them talking then she saw Howard standing and moving away slowly. Then everything came into focus. The look of distress in Peggy’s eyes, the destruction of the room, the white sheet covering a body.
“S-Steve?”
“He’s, he’s okay. We need to go love”
“I-I-I want Jamie”
“I know but he isn’t here right now an-and he will be rather mad at me if I don’t get you out of here, so please follow me”
Despite the blood on Y/n’s hands Peggy still took them in hers and helped her stand, although Peggy didn’t really know Y/n all that well she knew that Steve cared deeply for her, making her care about the woman. Her main focus was getting Y/n to safety and then she could worry about everything else.
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December 10th 1944
It’s been well over a year since Y/n watched Dr Erskine get shot and killed, in that year she went back to work in the factory. Nothing really changed for her in that year that had gone by, months would go by without a letter from Bucky she knew that he was still alive as his family wasn’t informed to state that he was dead.
It brought her some relief. But that didn’t stop the sadness from sinking in when she didn’t get a letter.
Steve had become a circus monkey for America, gaining himself the name Captain America. When she saw one of his shows for the very first time she couldn’t stop laughing. The outfit. The way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable. The music. The acting. It was laughable.
“Stop laughing Y/n” Steve said walking into the tent as she followed behind him.
“I-god you look ridiculous Stevie”
“Stop laughing!” He tried to act mad but her laugh had his lips turning upwards. For Steve it had been a long time since he heard her laugh like that. He missed it.
In October of 1943 Steve showed up at her apartment acting different, he was quieter, avoided talking about Bucky. Y/n had asked him if there was something wrong but all he did was give her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.
He wanted to tell her that he was told that Bucky and his unit had been captured as POWs, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to do everything in his power to get him back, to bring him home to her so they could get the life he’s knows they’ve always wanted with each other. 
But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to say them words and see her smile fade, tears gather in her eyes so he remained silent and listened to her rambling about something one of the girls said at work.
He couldn’t fail her, he was going to bring Bucky back no matter what it took.
Unbeknownst to Y/n not only was Bucky captured and then saved by their once scrawny little friend but that in ten minutes there was going to be a knock at the door and she’d be taken by two soldiers to go somewhere.
“It’s like I’m invisible” Bucky mutters when Peggy doesn’t even give him a second glance, he found it funny that Peggy had to practically spell it out for the blonde to understand what she was trying to hint. He knew that if Y/n was here and saw the exchange she would have been smiling so wide with her hands clasped together against her heart.
A small smile made its way to his lips as he thought about Y/n, his Flower. As soon as he got back to camp from being saved by Steve he went straight to his tent and wrote a letter to her, sealing it up in an envelope he got from one of the soldiers, giving it to the person he needed to for it to be sent off. Already excited for her letter. He missed her more than anything.
“You thinking about her Buck?” Steve’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Of course, she’s always on my mind-what?”
“Who’s always on your mind?”
“Ms Potts from down the street-“ he rolled his eyes “-Y/n, you’re an idiot sometimes Steve I swear”
“I’m always on your mind Jamie?”
Bucky’s eyes went wide looking Steve in the eyes, the blonde just smiled at him. Slowly turning around, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears he turned to find the source of the voice he has missed hearing.
Well aware that his unit, his team, strangers that became friends were standing around, he didn’t care if they saw their Sergeant with tears gathering in his eyes.
He didn’t care about anything other than Y/n who was currently standing in front of him. Her flower print dress fit perfectly, lightly moving as she stands there. Her eyes focused on him as he took her in, god she was so beautiful.
“F-Flower?”
“Hi Jamie”
“Wha-how-your really here? I’m not dreaming again am I?”
“No” she giggled, the sound making his heart tingle.
“If you don’t kiss her I will” Dum Dum shouted making everyone laugh. But not Bucky. No it made him move quicker than he’d ever moved before, cupping her face in his hands he smiled before placing his lips to hers. Steve joined in with everyone else as they cheered and clapped. 
“You’re really here” Bucky whispered against her lips, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent.
“I’m really here”
That night he took her to his hotel room that they had been allowed to stay at, and made love to her for the first time. Three times that night. One more time before they had to say goodbye to each other again.
Just as she was about to get into the car Bucky kissed her one last time, and got down on one knee, proposing to her with a metal nut - that he had found in the room they shared - asking her to marry him before she could answer he promised that once he was back he’d buy her a ring.
Kissing him she held out her hand for him to slid the nut onto her finger.
“I’m getting married to my Flower” he said as the car that carried his love away. Steve smiled at his best friend’s happiness.
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January 28th 1945
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dot asked Y/n as she threw up for the second time that day.
“I’m okay. Must have been something I ate”
“You sure? Didn’t you say you saw James last month?”
“Yes…why?”
“Did you two…you know”
“Wha-oh, yes, a few times” she admitted, her cheeks going bright red.
“Do you think? Maybe? Right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You might be pregnant” Dot whispered.
Her head spun as the words from her friend settled in. She hadn’t had her period she realised. No. Surely not, right?
“Go and see the doctor after your shift and check” Dot continued.
“I have half an hour off before I start back up again”
“I’ll cover you”
“You’ve got kids you need to-“
“My mom’s here to help me, I’ll be fine”
“But-“
“No buts missy, you need to find out if you are.”
After twenty minutes of arguing back and forth with Dot, Y/n finally caved. Going to the hospital she waited patiently for her bloods to be taken. Completely unaware that across town two families were receiving the worst news.
Getting her keys out of her bag she froze when she saw Steve standing outside her apartment dressed in civilian clothing as Bucky called it now.
“Steve? Hey! What are you doing here?”
“Y/n, I need to talk to you”
“Is it Jamie? Steve? Where’s Bucky?”
But Steve didn’t answer instead he took her keys from her shaking hands and unlocked the door, pushing it open he turned to grasp her arm and guided her in to her apartment. His heart sinking further into his stomach than it already was before coming to her apartment, when he saw the metal nut still sitting on her finger.
“Steve…”
“I failed you Y/n/n I-I’m so sorry”
“He’s okay. He is. I know it”
Shaking his head the scene replying over and over in his head like it had for the past week since he watched his best friend fall to his death “H-he-he’s gone Y/n, I’m so-sorry” He jumps up just in time to catch her as she falls to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips.
Sadly Steve wasn’t done.
“Y/n…there’s something else, Michael…he’s been killed”
Michael was her half brother. She was close with him, closer to him than she was with her younger siblings. Michael never failed to make her laugh, he always acted like he was the oldest one of the two though there was eight years between them. Y/n was the first person he told when he got his orders from the Army, she hugged him as he cried. It’s not that he didn’t want to fight and help it was that he was terrified.
“No! No you’re lying.”
Helping her stand he took her home where her mom’s screams and cries could be heard from outside the home. Watching as mom and daughter cling together from the doorway Steve let a few tears fall.
Two days after finding out that her best friend turned fiancé and her sweet younger brother were killed Y/n found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later they buried Michael.
On the second of March 1945 Peggy arrived at Y/n’s apartment, eyes red and swollen. They held each other as they cried. Y/n gathered that Steve never got his letter to let him know he was going to be an uncle.
When Peggy noticed the small prodding bump her heart ached. She knew she had to keep the promise that she gave Steve, that she would look after Y/n. Steve had told Peggy that just before Bucky fell he told the blonde to look after his fiancée, the two best friend’s last thoughts were on their best friend and fiancée. Neither one knowing that she pregnant.
A month later Y/n and her family, Winnie and Rebecca were at the cemetery, she smiled sadly when she felt her baby kick for the first time when the preacher said James Buchanan Barnes, they watched as two empty coffins were put into the ground.
She knew that the baby she was growing inside of her would have been so loved and spoiled by its father and uncle Stevie, it broke her heart knowing that her unborn baby would never meet the two greatest men she had ever known.
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Five years passed after she lost three men closest to her. After she gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl that she named Hope Jamie Barnes, she moved out of the tiny little apartment she had and moved into a farm house that had acres of land.
Just because her Jamie wasn’t with her anymore didn’t mean she was going to give up on the life that he had planned for them. She still wore that metal nut, everyone thought it was strange but luckily for her they never asked about it. However it no longer sat on her finger but around her neck on a silver chain.
A wedding ring sat there now instead.
Two years after Hope was born her mom made her get married. “You’re twenty nine now Y/n you need a husband” her mom told her, reluctantly she agreed and married a man named Frank. At first Frank was okay, nice even but things changed only after a few months of marriage. It started with small things such as telling her what to wear, how to act. Then it turned nasty, the abuse was mental, verbal and physical.
Three years into their marriage she had become numb and use to it all. Became use to the women talking and giggling like school girls when they saw her in the store or on the streets, the same women who were sleeping with her husband. It didn’t bother her anymore that her husband was cheating on her, the more women he had to satisfy him the more he was away from her home, the less she got beaten and berated.
It didn’t even bother her that he had gotten one of his mistresses pregnant or when the mistress’s husband found out and beat Frank to within an inch of his life. In fact she smiled.
Y/n and Peggy’s friendship became non existent after Y/n got married and Peggy married Daniel Sousa, when Peggy and Daniel started dating Peggy had asked Y/n if she was wrong for it but Y/n told her that she deserved to be happy and if he gave that to her then she should have that happiness.
Peggy worried if Steve would have been mad, Y/n had to remind her that he wouldn’t have wanted her to live a life of loneliness.
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When Hope was five she was wise for her age, she knew Frank wasn’t her father, she knew her daddy had passed away when he protected the country from the bad guys. Hope enjoyed her nighttime stories where her mama would tell her all about her father, hearing about how funny, kind and loving her father was always made the little girl smile. One night Y/n showed Hope the few photographs she had of James, Hope giggled and pointed at her eyes and then at James’s “same mommy same”. It was true, Hope had the same colour eyes as Bucky and like Bucky’s eyes they changed lighter when she was happy or giggling, turned darker when she was sad or when she was poorly.
Every Sunday Y/n and Hope had a routine, they would go to the cemetery to put flowers down on the graves of James and Steve. They would sit on a blanket and eat the sandwiches that Y/n would take with them, they would sit, eat and talk for hours - depending on the weather. Hope would show the headstones all her drawings and tell them all about her schooling and friends, told them her favourite colour - the rainbow that’s her favourite colour.
Y/n knew that there was no bodies in the coffins but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit there with her daughter in her lap and tell the two empty graves that she loved and missed them. Every time.
It was still a tradition that they both did even as Y/n got older and weaker.
In 1970 her husband was killed, Franks brother Robert was arrested and charged with his murder. Robert found out that his wife was having an affair with his brother. Y/n went to see him in prison after Robert sent her a letter begging her to see him, he swore that he didn’t do it. That it was a man with a silver arm. Y/n believed him when he said he didn’t do it, he was with his sister, her husband and their children, along with Robert’s children. But she didn’t believe him about a man with a silver arm, that was a bit far fetched.
At Franks funeral Y/n stood there with Hope on her left side and the nine children he had with nine different women. She tried to comfort the children he had with the women he had cheated on her with, they allowed it until everyone left and it was just them standing at the grave. His oldest started laughing causing the others to join in, Hope looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow that reminded her so much of Bucky, she just shrugged.
They told Y/n that they were happy he was finally gone. Told her that they hated him and was glad he was dead.
It surprised her but they were at the age where they realised that their parents marriages broke up when their mom cheated on their dad, or when they saw Frank hit their mom. It was nine teenagers/young adults who knew that what the preacher was saying as the coffin was lowered in the ground that it was all lies, he wasn’t a good man, he wasn’t a good husband or father, he was everything they hated. He was everything the five boys had promised that they would never turn in to. He was everything the four girls promised that they would never end up with.
They all kept in touch throughout the years, it was nice. And through them years all nine of his offspring kept their promises.
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As the years went on Y/n became more and more proud of Hope and the woman she had become. Hope got married and had children, her first born son was named James, her second son was named Steve.
“M-mom there’s someone here to see you” Hope stuttered from the doorway.
“W-who i-is it darling?”
“I-he-hold on”
Hope appeared at the door with a nervous smile on her face, her fingers twisting together as a man walked slowly towards her. His eyes going to the woman and then to the man behind him, he was scared.
“Hope?”
“Mom-“
Y/n slowly turned to face the doorway, her eyes widening as she sees the ghost of her best friend towering over her daughter.
“S-Stevie? You’ve come to take me to Jamie?”
Steve frowned looking at the woman who was the last person on his mind before the plane crashed in to the water, his best friend who had aged yet her eyes remained the same. Then he looked at Hope confusion written on his face, she looked up at him and smiled sadly.
“Mom I’m just going to get you a drink.” Nodding her head to Steve and Sam to follow her she went into the kitchen. “She thinks your taking her to heaven to see my dad”
“Dad?”
“James? He’s my father”
Steve’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. When Hope answered the door telling him that she was Y/n’s daughter he assumed that she had married and had children, he did not expect the woman in front of him to be the daughter of his best friend who he watched fall to his death.
“What?”
“Bucky Barnes is my father…you’re my uncle, well that’s what my mom always called you.”
“Oh. Now I see it, it’s your eyes”
“Mom always said I had the same eyes as him” she laughed.
Steve goes to open his mouth when there’s a sound of a cane hitting the floor, all three turn to face the doorway where Y/n stood.
“Are you re-really alive and not just m-my imagination?”
“I’m really here Y/n/n”
“H-how?”
“When I crashed the plane-ow stop hitting me” he cries out when she hits him with her walking cane, Sam and Hope laugh.
“Still mad at you for crashing that plane”
“I’m sorry. I was frozen and they found me a few years ago” Steve finished his explanation. Y/n nodded and sat down, being ninety five years old her legs weren’t as strong as they once were.
“This is my daughter, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”
“She is, she’s got Bucky’s eyes”
“Yes she has. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Sam, he’s the one that helped me track you down”
“I-it’s nice to meet you Sam.” When Y/n reached out to shake Sam’s hand Steve noticed a glint of a necklace. He watched as her free hand went to the necklace and started lightly tugging on it, he wasn’t the only one.
“Mom? Mom your alright, your safe don’t worry” Hope says softly, moving closer slowly. Sam looked at Steve worriedly.
“I-I don’t-don’t let him hurt me anymore”
“Mom he’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore I promise” Hope helped pull the necklace out, handing her the thing she knew her mom was trying to hold.
Steve’s breath get caught in his throat at seeing the metal nut Bucky gave her all those years ago.
“S-Steve? Your dead. Hope wh-who is he? I-it’s not Stevie, he’s dead”
“It’s okay mom, he’s a friend. Let’s get you back to bed okay?” Turning to Steve and Sam telling them she’d be back in a few, they both nod.
Waiting patiently in the kitchen Steve can hear Hope calm Y/n down, his heart breaking when Y/n asks for Jamie. When Hope comes downstairs she offers the two a drink, both declines politely.
“Mom keeps forgetting things, she’s been like this for a while now.”
“The thing on her necklace, what is it?” Though he knew he just couldn’t see it lasting this long or that she even kept it.
“My dad proposed to her with it, it’s a nut. She’s kept it on her chain ever since-well, she’s wore it since he gave it her”
“Did she ever marry? Have other kids?”
“Yes, he died in 1970 and no I’m her only child”
“I’m sor-“
“Don’t apologise, bastard deserved it”
After an hour or so the men take their leave, the blonde asking if he was able to come back and see Y/n again, Hope said yes.
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The year was now 2016, Y/n’s health declining as she was nearing one hundred. The doctors told Hope that it would be better to keep her in hospital for the rest of her time on earth, Hope told them that, that wasn’t going to happen. Y/n had told Hope that when she was going to die that she wanted to go when she was at home. No matter what.
Steve had showed up one day to talk to Hope, to tell her that her father was alive after all this time. Hope begged him not to tell Y/n. Y/n struggled to understand and come to terms with the fact that Steve was alive, she had grown so confused that she started to tug on her necklace. Hope didn’t want to imagine how her mom would react to the news that the love of her life was alive, not when she spent so long mourning him.
At first Steve was confused but understood at the same time. He told Hope that he and Bucky fought and the only way he could get him to snap out of whatever Hydra had done to him was by saying Y/ns name, Hope smiled at that. Hope asked Steve if he had told James all about her and how her mom was still alive, Steve said no but with her permission he would. And he did.
After seventy years of going without a father it was strange when she met Bucky for the first time, a man who didn’t look a day over thirty was her father when she looked like his mother, it was strange.
Bucky cried. Cried for never knowing Y/n was pregnant in the first place. Cried for never being there throughout Hope growing in her mother’s stomach. Cried for never being there for either one of them for nearly seventy years. Hugging his daughter for the first time ever Bucky crumbled.
Hope was very honest about hers and Y/n’s life, told Bucky how Y/n’s husband was a cheating abusive arsehole. Both Bucky and Steve clenched their fists at hearing that. Shocked when Hope told them that apparently a man with a silver arm had killed Frank, and because Bucky had his arm covered and gloves on Hope didn’t realise that it was her father that did it.
Bucky was open and honest about what had happened to him, expecting his daughter to look at him differently so when she threw her arms around him and cried he was shocked.
It took Bucky exactly twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds for him to ask when he could see Y/n. Having to think it over she agreed but on the condition that she was the one that would tell Y/n the truth.
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Telling her mom that the man she had still been in love with after all those years since she had lost him, that he was still alive was the hardest conversation she had to have with her mom. Y/n didn’t believe her, of course she didn’t she’s spent seventy years mourning him. Seventy years wishing she saw him again, hoping and praying that he would still love her the way she still loved him.
Hope told Y/n that she had met him, hugged him, laughed with him but she still didn’t believe her.
A week after telling Y/n that Bucky was still alive her health deteriorated. Hope had to tell Bucky and Steve that Y/n didn’t have long left. Bucky was determined to see his love for the last time.
James stood in front of the house that Y/n had made a home since she left Brooklyn, the two floored farm house stood proudly in front of acres of land, due to his enhanced senses he could smell the lingering smell of animal food and waste. Hope had told him all about the animals Y/n rescued over the years, told him that when she was seven they had three horses, cows and goats, that in recent years Y/n had been rescuing cats and dogs from the streets or abusive homes rehoming them to those she trusted. Bucky smiled at hearing that she had lived the life he wanted for the both of them, smiled at hearing that Y/n’s kindness and love for animals never stopped.
Checking his hair was fine for the umpteenth time in the two hours it took them to get there he turned to face Steve.
“You ready Buck?”
“Y-yeah” Steve knocks on the door and they both wait patiently for Hope to answer. 
“Hi, come on in-oh”
“T-they wanted to come, hope that’s okay” Bucky explained. Behind him and Steve stood the rest of the Avengers.
“We’ve heard all about your mom ever since blondie came out of ice, wanted to meet her” Tony spoke leaning in between the two super soldiers to hold his hand out.
“Oh right, come in.” Leading them all upstairs where Y/n was, Bucky’s nerves sky rocketed the closer he got to the bedroom. “You ready?” Hope asked.
“Yeah. She knows I’m here right?”
“She does, if it helps she’s nervous too”
Nodding his head he watched with a steady breath as his daughter - which he still found weird saying - twisted the door knob and opened the door.
Though older and frail Bucky thought she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes stayed on her face as he moved closer, with every step he took his heart started to beat slower.
“J-Jamie?”
Wetting his lips and gulping he nodded “hi Flower”
“Took you long enough to come and get me”
“I know my love b-but I’m here now”
“Are we going to see Stevie?”
“Stevie’s right here darling”
“Is my mama going to be there too?”
Frowning he looked back to Hope as she stands at the doorway with everyone behind her. Hope shook her head and mouthed “she thinks you’re taking her to heaven”.  His frown deepened, looking back at Y/n whose eyes didn’t move away from him.
“I’ve missed you Flower”
“I’ve missed you too Jamie. Ha-have you met Hope? She’s your daughter Jamie”
“I have met her, beautiful isn’t she?”
“She is. The best thing I’ve ever done”
“I’m so proud of you, you’ve raised our daughter amazingly”
“Sit down silly” sitting on bed next to her he took his gloves off and held both her hands when she reached for him. Y/n didn’t flinch when his silver hand touched her. “Don’t let Frank hurt Hope okay? Y-you have to promise me Jamie th-that you’ll lo-look after her”
“Doll he’s-I promise that no one will ever hurt her”
“Good. He’s mean. He hurts me Jamie”
“I know doll I know, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him”
“Not your fa-wh-who are they Jamie?���
“They’re Stevies friends Flower”
Hope nudged Steve further into the room and nods to the others letting them know it’s okay for them to go in too. Steve says hello and introduces the team to her, each giving her a smile.
For three hours Steve and Y/n talked about growing up together and all the things they use to get up to, everyone laughed and asked Y/n questions about the two super soldiers, she answered them as best as she could sometimes she repeated herself or looked panicked when she saw strangers standing in her room.
Bucky though held her hand with the both of his, his eyes on her the whole time. Tracing over each line with his eyes, his heart clenching when he saw the unmistakable sight of a scar that ran down the side of her face.
His breath got caught in his throat when she took out the metal nut around the necklace. “Y-you kept it?” He asked interrupting when Sam was talking about.
“My Jamie gave it me during the war, he proposed to me” she smiled “you look like him”
“Do I?”
“Yes, but my Jamie was more handsome”
“Was he now?”
“Oh yes-“ a yawn cuts her off. Hope tells everyone that it was best if they left now so she could get some rest, and they do. Each say their goodbyes and waits for Steve and Bucky downstairs.
“We’ll come and see you tomorrow okay?” Steve says after he pulls away from giving her a hug and a kiss to her forehead. Y/n nods and smiles. “I’ll wait for downstairs Buck”
Bucky nods, then looks at Hope who understands without being verbally told that Bucky wanted a few minutes alone, she follows behind Steve.
“I have always loved you, you know? I still love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home to you when I promised you over and over that I would, I’m sorry I let you down Flower”
“Y-you didn’t let me down Jamie, never.”
Bucky smiles softly at her, watching as her eyes start to droop. “I’ll let you get some rest my love. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise”
“O-okay Jamie. S-see you tom-tomorrow” Giving her a kiss to her forehead he stands and moves to the door, taking one last look at his first and only love.
“Thank you for the best years of my life”
He says before shutting the door and heads slowly down the stairs.
After Hope says her goodbyes and gives her dad a hug she busies herself cleaning the kitchen, she smiles happily to herself seeing her parents together something she had always wanted to experience.
She doesn’t know that her mom is in her bed with her hand wrapped around the piece of metal that she had wore and cherished from the moment James gave it her, she doesn’t know her mom is thinking about meeting her Jamie again.
She doesn’t know that her mom takes her last breath with a small smile on her lips.
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A year after loosing the love of his life Bucky had to bury his only daughter, heart attack took her. In 2023 Tony had perfected his father’s Time Machine with the help from Bruce. Steve was going to be returning the stones, they all gathered together in the empty space and watched as Steve vanished.
“4…3…2…1” Bruce counted down for Steve’s arrival.
Once the smoke cleared Bucky had his eyes down as he knew that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back, he knew he was going to go back to live a life with Peggy. His head snapped up when he heard the voice that he always heard in his sleep.
There stood on the platform was Steve, Y/n and a two year old Hope.
“Fl-Flower”
“You died Jamie. You promised me you would be safe but-“
Bucky cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers, holding both of his flowers tightly.
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One month after Steve brought Y/n and Hope to the future, Bucky and Y/n got married. A month after that she finds out that baby Barnes number two would be arriving.
“I love you Flower”
“I love you Jamie”
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months
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His innocent girl | Ari Levinson
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> DBF!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> He can’t stand the desire you’re causing with your little outfits and the innocence you show him. Ari needs you — he needs to ruin you for every other man.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 5.349 (a lot smut, almost only smut)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, age gap (Reader in her early 20’s, Ari in his early 40’s), innocent!Reader, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, loosing of virginity, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, crying during sex, pussy slapping, belly bulge, squirting, creampie, multiple orgasm, degradation, praises, bit of dirty talk
𝐀/𝐍 -> The idea for the Oneshot is filled with @amathslutsguidetofandom and my dirty thoughts about Ari. So thank you so much. I also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for proofreading. I love you so much, thank youuuuu.❤️❤️
Masterlist | Ari Levinson Masterlist
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The pink, fluffy bunny ears fit perfectly on top of your head, making your outfit look perfect. You're standing in front of the mirror with a pink little skirt, overknees, and a short pink top covering most of your body. You turn to the left, then to the right, letting the skirt slowly fly higher and revealing the sweet, white cotton panties you're wearing underneath. You're smirking at yourself and sliding your hand over your skirt before you turn around and open the door of your room.
When you do so, you hear the voices of your parents and another familiar voice. Deep but soft, and you already know who is sitting downstairs in the kitchen with a coffee in front of him and a big grin on his lips. Ari Levinson - your dad's best friend.
With a grin on your lips, you walk downstairs, slightly jumping up and down, when you enter the kitchen, where Steve — your dad — and Ari are sitting. Your father turns his head toward you, smiling when you walk closer and kissing his cheek softly.
"Good morning, daddy," you say in your sweetest voice.
"Morning, sweetheart."
Then you turn around to face Ari, and he smiles nicely at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and he licks his lips with his tongue. His hand is gripping the cup of coffee in front of him, and his knuckles are turning white. The little skirt that covers just a bit more than half your ass and the tight top, the pink you're always wearing — Ari can't stop his fantasies even though your outfit doesn't give much to his imagination. And the sweet, fluffy bunny ears you're wearing make him go crazy.
"Hello, Mr. Levinson," you say, smiling before you turn around to make yourself breakfast.
Ari needs to hide the groan that is creeping up his throat. You can't just look innocent and talk to him while you call him by his last name. He feels his pants tightening, his dick is pressing uncomfortable against the fabric, to the point he needs to lean back in the chair. It gets even worse when you bend down to reach for the cereals on the counter. Your skirt is sliding up and revealing your panties, Ari's eyes are focused on your ass and on your cunt, and he can't bring himself to look somewhere else. Luckily, Steve is sitting in front of him, so it looks like Ari is looking at him.
You're taking the cereal and the milk, and with a bowl your dad gave you already and make your way to sit next to Ari, putting everything into the bowl while you sing quietly. Steve tells Ari something about the barbecue later, but Ari's eyes are focused on you. He looks at you while you eat your cereal and sing quietly.
"I need to go shopping for that. Do you wanna come with me, sweetheart?" Your dad asks, but you shake your head.
"I have to do a speech for uni," you say with a nice smile.
Ari licks his lips once again. He told your dad to prepare everything while he goes shopping and to know you're there with him. He feels his dick twitch in his pants; he wants to bend you over the table right now, ruining your innocence. He wants to hear those sweet moans leaving your lips when he slides his dick in and out of you.
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When your dad goes shopping, you're alone with Ari. He smirks at you, running his fingers through his long-brown hair and looking at the counter for everything you need for the barbecue. You're looking at Ari, your arms resting on the table while you have your hands under your chin. Your legs are swining forward and backward.
"Do you want to help me, babygirl?" Ari asks.
"Yes, Mr. Levinson."
Ari feels his dick hardening once again while you're walking around the kitchen island. Ari is tall; he has high-defined muscles, and you need to look up to look into his face. He smirks when he points to the bowls he needs from another counter. You nod and give them to him, then you turn around once again and bend over to look for some sweets you want to offer him. Your dad loves them; you love them, so maybe Ari loves them as well?
When you bend over, Ari's eyes are immediately focused on your ass once again. He groans softly, and when you grab the sweets and turn back, you see the way his ocean-blue eyes darken. You're not sure why he groaned, but Ari just bits his lips and looks your body up and down, then back into your eyes. His hand reaches out for you, grasping your waist and pulling you close against him.
"A sweet little pink diamont plug would fit perfectly into your pretty little ass."
"A- A pl- What?" You ask, and you narrow your eybrows.
Ari closes his eyes, swallowing the low groan. How can someone so sweet be so innocent at the same time? His grip tightens, and he slides his other hand along your side until his hand is placed on your ass.
“A plug, baby. Making you feel good here,” he says, slapping softly with his palm on your ass.
You gasp, looking up at him with a confused expression. Ari slips his hand underneath your skirt, caressing the soft skin of your ass. You whimper. Ari leans closer, kissing your nose and your forehead softly, while he slides his other hand to your ass cheeks as well. He then grabs them, pulling them apart and groaning when you press yourself more against him.
“Mr. L— Levinson, what are you doing?” You ask.
Your eyes are widening, and Ari can’t stop himself from groaning once again. His dick is leaking and pressing against his pants. You’re feeling something against your lower stomach; it’s big, and you wonder if he has his keys in his pants.
“Do— Do you have your keys in your pocket?”
“No,” Ari says, chuckling about your innocence. “That’s my dick. Feeling how hard it is just for you?”
You shake your head. Why should his cock grow because of you? You didn’t do anything, so why should there be something he is getting hard from? He leans down closer to your lips, and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. You close your eyes instinctively, and Ari chuckles. You whimper when he doesn’t break the distance between your lips. When you close your eyes to look into his steel blue ones, he just grins at you.
“Please, Mr. Levi—“
“Call me daddy, can you do this?”
You nod, confused about why he wants you to call him like you call your daddy but you don’t mind. You just want him to kiss you like you have always seen it in those romantic movies.
“And what do you want, babygirl?”
“C— Can you kiss me?”
He smirks, leaning in and capturing your lips with his. It’s a short but sweet kiss, and your knees are suddenly weak, and you feel a tingling feeling in your stomach. One that slides down between your legs and causes you to press your thighs together.
“You’re oke, baby?”
“It’s tingling,” you mumble, blushing.
“What’s tingling. Tell Daddy, where is it tingling?”
Ari knows what you mean, but he wants to hear it from you. He wants to hear that innocent, sweet girl say that she is dripping her panties because of the big, broad men in front of him.
“Down there,” you say quietly, and turn your head away.
He lets go of your ass with one of his hands and grips your chin, making you look up at him again. His blue eyes piercing in yours, he smirks, while his thumb slides over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth. You take it and twirl your tongue around his thumb, causing more tingles in your stomach. Ari removes his thumb with a plop and licks his lips.
“Do you need help with that tingling feeling in your belly?”
You nod, your eyes pleading. Ari grabs you by your waist and lifts you up, placing you on the surface of the counter. His hands slide up and down your thighs, closer to your pussy and he pushes your skirt up, revealing your wet panties. Ari groans, getting on his knees and pushing his head between your legs. He inhales deeply when his nose touches your covered pussy. You shiver slightly, moaning about the sudden feeling of him between your legs. Ari brings his hand to shove your pants away, and a low chuckle leaves his lips when he sees your dripping cunt.
“You’re so wet for me,” he says, kissing your pussy.
You moan softly. His tongue glides through your folds, and you can’t help but grip his long hair, tugging at it. You’re not sure if you want him to continue or stop; it’s a new sensation and feels good and weird at the same time.
“D— Daddy, what are you doing?”
Ari lets go of your pussy for a moment; this innocence of yours makes him so fucking desperate that he just wants to bend you over the counter and fuck you. He knows he would ruin you for everyone else.
“I have a taste of your pretty little cunt, babygirl.”
He lowers his head between your legs once again, lapping at your pussy, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. Ari’s beard is scratching your thighs and clit slightly, masking the feeling even more intensely. A feeling you never had before grows in your stomach, and you worry for a moment since it feels like you really need to pee. But Ari’s grip on your thighs is so strong that you can’t move away to get down the counter and go to pee.
“Daddy—“ you moan, your eyes watering.
“What’s wrong, babygirl?”
“I— I need to pee.”
Ari looks confused for a moment, removing his tongue from in between your folds. Instead, he shoves his chunky fingers along your folds, circling your entrance before he pushes a finger into your tight entrance.
“Don’t worry, baby. You don’t need to pee; let go for me. Can you do it?”
You nod, and Ari pumps his finger inside of you. He hits your sweet spot, still tasting you on his tongue and lips. Your moan shamelessly, his finger moving slowly inside of your tight pussy, and he can’t help but imagine his cock in your pussy.
“Have you ever touched yourself?”
“Nu—uh.”
Ari almost comes in his pants when you tell him that you never touched yourself. You’re so fucking tight that he just wants to burry his huge dick into you, splitting you open. He pushes his finger deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot and making you almost scream. Ari smirked, feeling you clench around him. He speeds up slightly, pushing another of his thick fingers into your pussy.
“Daddy, feeling that tingle so much.”
“Let go; come for Daddy.”
And you do. You arch your back and come all over his fingers, creaming them in your slick while he fucks you with his fingers through your high. Your pussy is squeezing him violently, sucking him deeper into you.
“Good girl, such a good girl,” he praises.
He slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper about the sudden emptiness. Your legs are shaking, and your breath is heavy while you look at Ari. He brings his fingers to his lips and takes them into his mouth, sucking them clean while he groans about your sweet taste. You look at him, whimpering softly about the feeling growing between your legs. Something like desire, where you need Ari to take care of your cunt.
“Daddy, that tingling—“
“Shhh— Daddy’s gonna take care of his pussy.”
You nod, pouting slightly, and Ari chuckles. He gets off the floor and leans closer, capturing your cheeks with his big hands and pressing his lips softly on yours. His tongue glides over your lips; you part them slightly, and Ari pushes his tongue into your mouth. His hands slide along your body, removing your panties. Then he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants before he slides them down, revealing his boxers with the outline of his fat, hard cock and a little spot where his tip is pressed against the fabric already wet from his pre-cum.
“Wanna see daddy’s fat cock, little girl?”
“I—“
Ari doesn’t give you much time to answer; he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and shoves them down his thick thighs. He would love to take off all your clothes, would worship every bit of your body, and kiss every inch of your skin, but he is so desperate to feel you. And the outfit turns him on beyond belief. You look at his weeping cock, which just springs free; the tip is red, and you see the veins running along it. He sees the struggle in your eyes. What should you do know? Touch it, or let himself touch it?
“You can touch it; just be careful,” he says, holding out his hand to place yours into his.
When your small hand is placed in his big one, he walks a step closer, letting his fingers slide over the soft skin of his cock. You follow every movement of your fingers with your eyes, furrowing softly while you’re concentrated on the way his tip feels. When you swipe your thumb over the slit, Ari pushes his hips forward and groans.
“Do— Does it feel good?” You ask innocently and look into his eyes.
He nods, smirking when your smile grows. You wrap your fingers around his huge length, pumping his cock slowly into your hand. Ari throws his head back, thrusting it into your hand. When you see the way he reacts to your touches, you use your other hand and take his balls into it, grinning when he groans and hums in response.
When Ari feels the pleasure in his belly growing, he takes a step back and pushes you by your shoulders down. You whimper, and when his cock taps your pussy, he is smearing his pre-cum all over your pussy. You’re wiggling your ass, earning a slap on your thigh. Tears build up in the corner of your eyes, and Ari captures your cheeks with his hands, kissing you softly.
He then takes his cock into his hand, giving himself a few strokes and slapping the tip against your pussy. You moan softly, and he does it again. Then he pushes his dick between your folds, still not entering you. With his thumb, he holds his dick in between your wet folds while he thrusts slowly forward. Your eyes are almost closed when his cock always hits your clit whenever he pushes forward. Your lips are slightly parted, and you whimper, gripping the surface of the counter to steady yourself. Ari grinds against you over and over again until you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Sweat is covering your forehead, and your hair is messy, but for Ari, you’re beautiful as always. You mumble his name and ‘daddy’ over and over again.
So cock drunk, and he hasn’t even pushed in yet. Ari loves the way you’re whimpering for more, pushing yourself against him even though you’re such an innocent little girl. Not really knowing what you're asking him for — for a fat cock that will ruin her tiny pussy for everyone else — just the thought makes Ari come almost immediately.
“Do you want Daddy to make you feel good? Are you daddy’s little slut?” He asks, and you nod, slightly confused about him making you feel good and calling you a slut.
You don’t even know what the word means, but when he uses it, it’s probably nothing bad, right? So you just nod, and Ari smirks, still thrusting his dick through your folds and hitting your clit. Your moans grow louder, your back arches, and your legs are shaking when the feeling in your pussy appears once again.
“D—Daddy, so tingling down there.”
“‘S oke, come for me; make a mess,” he says, smirking when you throw your head back.
Your walls are clenching, and your whines are needier when you come a second time. Ari still moves his dick in between your folds, pressing his tip against your clit, causing you to inhale deeply and push your hips up to get more of his cock.
“Such a slut, trying to get my cock, huh?”
Your legs are shaking, and your chest raises and falls while you slowly clam down from your orgasm. Ari didn’t come yet, and you wonder why he didn’t; maybe he doesn’t feel as tingly as you do?
“Daddy?”
“Mhm?”
“Don’t you feel tingly?” You ask, pouting slightly.
“I do. But my cock needs to be warm and wet, babygirl,” he explains with a grin.
Ari’s hand is still holding his cock in between your folds, slapping it a few times on your pussy before he moves himself further down to your tight entrance. Even when it’s an odd feeling, it gives you at the same time pleasure when his dick touches your entrance. Ari tries to push the tip of his cock into your pussy, but it doesn’t really work, and he immediately slips out of there.
“Aww, babygirl. Don’t you wanna have Daddy inside of you?” He asks, amused.
“I want, Daddy,” you whimper, feeling the tears falling down your cheeks.
“Shh— it’s fine. I will make it fit, baby,” he coos, caressing your cheek.
Ari tries again, pushing his cock slowly into your tight entrance. You grip his muscular arms, digging your nails into his skin while he stretches your entrance with his dick. You squirm, trying to escape the slight pain he causes in your pussy. Ari’s just pushing a tiny bit into you before he pauses, your walls already clenching around him, squeezing his cock.
“Do you know that you make me go crazy with that little outfit? Or with all your outfits, showing almost your ass,” Ari says and smirks when you blush about his comments.
“I— It’s so big, Daddy,” you mumble, digging your fingers even more into his arm.
Ari smirks, leaning closer to capture your lips with his, soft and warm. When he leans closer, his dick slides deeper into your tight hole. You bite into his lip, causing him to chuckle. When he leans back, your eyes are almost closed. You moan, arching your back, and he pushes his tip completely into you. Ari groans about the sudden tightness around his cock; you’re squeezing him, and Ari just wants to push deeper into you, getting more of your warm, tight pussy.
“Breathe deeply, oke?”
You do, inhaling deeply, but it gets interrupted when you suddenly scream in pain. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes, and they roll down your cheeks. Your eyes are red, watering even more when Ari doesn’t stop from pushing inside of you.
“Pl— Please, stop. M—My belly,” you whine, trying to get away from him while you’re still holding his arms.
“Sh— It’s oke, it feels better when I’m inside of you,” Ari mumbles, smirking when you nod.
He didn’t know that your tears would make his cock twitch, but they do. You’re pretty when you cry because of his cock. When it’s because of him splitting you in half with his fat dick, turning you into his own little sex toy. He knows he shouldn’t ruin you for another man, but he just can’t hold back when you’re underneath him with that cute outfit, the bunny eyes on your head, and the tears all over your cheeks while you take his cock like a good girl. And when he is the only one who fucks you, when he is the one who loves you, then he doesn’t ruin you for others because you’re his — and only his.
Ari is just a bit deeper inside of you than he was before, with most of his cock still outside of your cunt. He wipes the tears on your cheeks away, kissing the tip of your nose, and continues to push into you. He is stretching you open in a way you never thought it could be possible to stretch something. Ari is huge; you feel the vein of his cock inside of you, and even though it burns, it kinda feels great.
“Doing so well for Daddy. Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”
You nod; the pain gets worse once he pushes himself faster into you. He just can’t and doesn’t want to wait to be completely in the warm wetness of your pussy. Ari needs you to be inside your pussy, to clench around his cock, and to see more of those pretty tears of yours while he fucks you senseless. He wants to hear you screaming when you come all over his dick, making a mess and squeezing him even tighter.
“D—daddy,” you squeal when he grips your waist harshly to guide his dick better into you.
Ari laughs, pulling you closer against him and shoving his cock deeper. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you squeeze your eyes shut while he rams his dick in your pussy. He is rough this time, not giving you time to adjust to his length. Ari needs all of his control to not come immediately; you fit so perfectly around him, sucking him in, and the warmth that surrounds his cock makes him go crazy. He digs his fingers into your soft skin, bringing his cock completely into your tight hole. You squirm, clenching hard around him, while he splits you open. You pussy burns, and you feel like your tight cunt just can’t get used to his fat cock.
“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just couldn’t hold back any longer. Shhhh— breathe; you’re doing so well. Taking Daddy’s cock like a good girl. You’re so pretty when you cry on my cock; you’re so pretty, baby,” he coos, leaning closer to kiss the tears away.
Even when you’re still crying, he kisses them away, making sure you’re feeling better with his dick inside of you. He knows he should pull out, give you time to adjust slowly, and work you open with his fingers, but he was holding back for so long, and he just wants to feel the warmth around his cock. The clenching feeling of you and the tears that cover your cheeks because he is just too fat for your baby cunt to take him.
“Daddy, I— I can feel you so deep in my belly,” you whimper.
“Yes. See that?” Ari asks, pulling your shirt up and revealing your soft belly with the bugle of his dick. “That’s my cock.”
You whimper, sliding your head down to where his cock is visible. You slide your fingers over it and make him smile even wider. He adores the way you’re looking so innocent and now with his cock inside of you, seeing him poking in your belly and touching the bulge he is causing with his cock. Ari slowly pulls out of you, making you hiss about the sudden feeling. You whimper when you feel every inch of his cock moving inside of you.
“Nuuu—Daddy, please stay there.”
"Aww, do you need my cock inside of you? Pretty little slut for me,” he says, smirking when you nod eagerly.
He pushes back inside of you, and you immediately sigh in relief. His dick stretches you painfully, but when he pulls out, you feel so empty, and when he just stays like that, the pain slowly fades away. Ari just pushes slightly forward and backward, making you furrow your eyebrows.
“Don’t! Daddy!”
“Oh— baby, not like that; be nice,” he says, bringing his hand to your pussy and slapping softly on it.
You gasp, your eyes watering, and Ari does it again, causing more tears in your eyes. He then presses his thumb against your clit, circling it softly. You wiggle underneath him, and his dick slides deeper into you until he is balls deep inside your pussy. You squeeze him even more, and when he rubs circles on your clit, the feeling you had earlier appears once again in your stomach.
“Daddy— tingling.”
“It’s oke, come for daddy; come all around his fat cock, little slut.”
And you do, your walls clenching violently around his dick. You’re moaning loudly, throwing your head back and pushing your hips more against him, and his fingers continue to circle your clit. Ari starts thrusting into you slowly and only a bit, but you feel every tiny movement of his cock and every vein along his shaft. His eyes are piercing in yours while he fucks you through your high.
“You’re squeezing me so fucking good, pretty girl.”
Ari throws his head back when you look through your lashes at him. Your eyes are still filled with tears, but the desire in his eyes makes him thrust into you. You’re sucking him in every time he pulls out of you. When another sharp pain suddenly appears in your skin, you look at the place where the two of you are connected. He slaps your pussy slightly, but enough to cause a sharp pain in your overstimulated pussy. Ari moves his hips at a steady but faster pace against yours. His balls are slapping against your ass whenever he thrusts forward. Your arousal is covering his dick; the sound when he pushes back into you makes him feral, and his thrusts are harder. The juice that is dripping out of you lands in his balls. They are heavy, and it gets even worse when he thinks about the way he is pushing his seeds into you.
“Feels so good—“
“Yeah? Are you daddy’s little slut?”
You nod, pushing yourself against him when he tries to pull out of you. Ari chuckles, slapping on your pussy once again, causing you to squeal and look at him with widening eyes.
“D— Faster, please.”
Ari groans, but obeys. He is thrusting his dick faster into your tight cunt, making you cry on his cock even more. Your pussy slightly hurts, but the feeling of his cock inside of you feels just too good.
“You’re such a little desperate slut, so cock drunk, aren’t you, baby? Asking your dad’s best friend to fuck you like a little fuck toy.”
You whimper, and Ari smirks, fucking harder into you, getting more of those sweet moans from you. Ari feels his dick twitch, your walls clenching and making it almost impossible for him to move inside of you. He circles your clit with his thumb once again, making your eyes shut up, and you throw your head back in pleasure.
“D— Please, I need to come,” you shout, your hands gripping his arm.
Your nails dig into his skin, and you’re feeling his grip on your waist tighten while he fucks you closer to your orgasm. Ari isn’t far behind you; you feel just so perfect around his dick.
“It’s so sensitive, daddy,” you whimper.
He grins, pushing his thumb further down on your clit. Making you gasp and making eye contact with him.
“My pretty little slut. See, I’ve ruined you for every other man. You’re mine, aren’t you? Tell me you’re mine, and you can come.”
“I’m yours. I’m yours, Daddy.”
He speeds his thrusts up, pushing harder into you. Ari loves to hear the soft whimpers and moans slipping over your lips while he fucks you like his little slut — the little slut you are for him. His dick is pulsing, and he is moaning low when you clench more than before. Your legs are shaking, your bodies are covered in sweat, and his breath is just as heavy as yours. You’re just about to come, and Ari knows. He rubs his fingers over your clit, your eyes widen, and you come. Squirting all over his dick and making a mess. Ari laughs, looking at your juices all over his dick and lower belly. He just comes a moment after you, pushing his cum deep into your tight hole and painting your walls with it.
“So— so sensitive, Daddy,” you mumble, letting your head fall down on the surface of the kitchen counter.
Ari pushes his dick slower into you, riding both of your orgasms out while you try to catch your breath. His hand slides from your clit to your sides, caressing your soft skin while his dick softens inside of you.
“You’re doing so well. Squirting all over me. You’re all mine,” he says, leaning closer to kiss your lips. “But that’s our little secret, baby. I love you, my pretty girl.”
“I— I love you too, daddy.”
Ari smiles; he helps you sit up and slips his cock out of you. You whimper about the emptiness inside your pussy. He then looks at your pulsing pussy, admiring the way your cum is dripping out of your cunt. He pulls you closer and grasps your tights to pick you up. He carries you upstairs to the bathroom, placing you on the toilet.
“You need to pee,” he says, turning around and walking out of the room.
He closes the door behind him and lets you pee. After you finish, you open the door quietly and look at the broad man who is standing with some new clothes for you in front of the door.
“Take a seat, and I will clean you, oke?”
You nod, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and look at Ari, who gets on his knees in front of you. He has a wet washcloth in his hand and spreads your legs, cleaning your thighs. Ari moves his hand higher to your pussy, cleaning your folds and wiping your mixed juices from your pussy. You whimper, your cunt still sensitive from his dick inside of you.
“Daddy’s so empty down there.”
“It’s oke. Let’s just dress you, and then Daddy needs to clean himself. But I will put my dick into your baby cunt next time your daddy isn’t home,” he says, kissing the pout away from your lips.
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After cleaning the two of you, you changed your outfit, still wearing similar clothes and the cute bunny ears on top of your head. Ari was grabbing your ass when you walked past him out of the bathroom, smirking when you squirmed in surprise.
Now you’re sitting on the kitchen counter while Ari stands between your legs, kissing your lips softly. His hands are on your waist, and his finger is digging into your soft skin.
“All mine, my little girl, my pretty girl,” he says, smirking when you blush softly. “Now let’s get the barbecue ready; otherwise, Steve is going to ask what we did the whole time.”
You giggle, grasping his shirt to pull him closer and kiss him again. Ari chuckles, then he pulls away and gets the barbecue ready.
“You’re so beautiful, my pretty girl,” Ari tells you.
When he walks through the kitchen and reaches you, he kisses you softly while his hand trails along your thigh.
“I’m home!” Steve shouts and walks toward the two of you.
You smile at him, your cheeks red, and Ari smirks widely, but Steve doesn’t say anything. It’s pretty warm in there, so he doesn’t even recognize what’s happened between you and Ari. You had sex together, and he took your virginity and claimed you and your pussy as his. And even better, Ari loves you; he really fell for you.
“I love you,” he mumbles into your ear while he walks outside with your dad.
“I love you too, Ari,” you say, jumping off the counter.
Ari’s grin gets wider when his name slips past your lips. He is a lucky man to have such a pretty girl like you by his side.
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bucky-fricking-barnes · 4 months
Text
The Cards We're Dealt
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Title: The Cards We’re Dealt
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 15k
Warnings: Arranged marriage, alcohol, cursing, objectification of women and mild sexism, bad parents, angst, fluff, mentions of drugs
Summary: Bucky and Y/N are the children of the two most prominent mob bosses in New York. When their parents use them as part of a deal, they’re left to figure out how their lives fit together.
A/N: Wow! Another long fic because I have no self-restraint. There’s a bit of Irish in this because I couldn’t resist it when I wrote Steve. Translations are at the end, and anything incorrect can be blamed on Google Translate. As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging, and supporting me in all the ways you do. 
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There is an unspoken rule amongst the mobs in New York that the more drug manufacturers a man controls, the nicer you treat his daughter. So, when Bucky’s father tells him that he’s once again been pimped out as part of a deal, Bucky knows to ask the question,
“How many does he control?”
If Bucky had his way, of course, he would treat all girls as well as he is able (which is very well). He likes girls, and he likes going out with girls. He just wishes he could choose which girls he got to take out.
“Seventy-five percent,” George Barnes says, and Bucky freezes with his glass against his lips. He has a club soda to his father’s whiskey—he’s in a good mood and was actually hoping to enjoy the day, though now he’s reconsidering it. His plan to lounge by the pool with Becca and soak up as much of the late spring sunshine as possible is quickly dissipating. 
“That’s not possible,” Bucky replies. He quickly does the math in his head. His dad owns over half the manufacturers in Brooklyn. “We own—“
“Not anymore.”
The library falls silent as Bucky tries to wrap his head around the news. Just yesterday he’d overheard his father on the phone with one of his men, explaining in great detail what he’d do if they didn’t get him a sample of their newest product by the top of the hour.
“How?” he asks. He sets his glass aside and sits straighter in his chair. “Did something happen? You didn’t tell me about a takeover.”
George takes a sip of his whiskey. “That’s because there wasn’t one.” He sets the crystal tumbler on the small bronze tray nearby. Marta will come clean it up later. “I sold them.”
“You sold them? If you’ve already struck a deal, then why am I taking out his daughter? Isn’t that normally something you have me do to butter their fathers up before you make the deal?”
Bucky watches as his own father stands and goes to watch the landscapers through the library window, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s long since been out of the army, but some habits die hard. Very rarely did the man ever relax.
“You are the deal,” George answers, his voice much too casual for Bucky’s liking.
“What the hell are you talking about?” snaps Bucky.
“Watch your tone, boy,” his father replies. He doesn’t turn around to witness the way Bucky grinds his teeth together in response. “In exchange for the majority of Theo’s territory, you and Y/N will be married within a year and a half, though the exact date is up to the two of you. I believe that Theo mentioned his daughter likes spring, so perhaps a spring wedding. June is popular, from what I’m told, though that’s cutting it a little close to the deadline.”
Bucky’s up out of his seat now. He can feel his pulse thrumming and he can’t quite catch his breath.
“So what? You threw me in to sweeten the pot? Am I just another bargaining chip to you now?”
He’s shouting. He doesn’t care.
George turns and regards him in silence, and, like always, his expression betrays nothing of what he’s thinking or feeling. He doesn’t seem fazed at all by Bucky’s outburst.
“You’re my heir. I make my decisions based on what’s best for our family. Nothing about this decision is impulsive or frivolous, James,” he finally answers, his voice cool and even. There’s nothing familial in his tone—George Barnes is all business. 
“You can’t just decide that I’m getting married. I won’t do it. I refuse,” Bucky tells him. He balls his fists at his sides and he sets his jaw, furious. How dare his father try to control his life like this? It’s one thing to occupy the majority of Bucky’s nights and weekends with dates, meetings, dinners, and weapons runs, but it’s another to throw him into a marriage he doesn’t want.
“I can and you will. If you don’t, there will be consequences. To start, you will be immediately cut off from our family. You will have no money, no home, no resources, and no contact or communication with anyone involved in the business, including your mother and your sister.”
Heart pounding, Bucky glares at him. He’s got a migraine coming on. He knows his father isn’t kidding, but he wants more than anything for Steve to pop out and say that this is all just a joke. He’s never even met Theo’s daughter. He’s barely even met Theo. According to the rumors, his only daughter is his most prized treasure. She isn’t someone who frequents any of the bars, clubs, and restaurants that he and the other “mob children” frequent. Maybe “mob children” isn’t exactly the right term, at least not anymore. After all, Bucky’s engaged now. He’s just part of the mob, another pawn to be moved around the chessboard.
“You have the rest of the day off. I’ll see you at eight tomorrow morning,” says George. He picks up his glass and downs the last of the liquor. “Theo and his family are coming for breakfast, and then Y/N will be moving in with us. I want you on your best behavior.”
He pauses and Bucky continues to glare at him, not validating his words with a response. George’s eyes grow dark with a thinly veiled threat. Bucky knows that look—if he pushes his father any harder, he’ll regret it. 
“Do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Bucky grinds out.
Turning on his heel, Bucky stalks out of the library and slams the door behind him. He immediately heads down the hall, then down the stairs and across the ground floor of the Barnes Estate to the garage. His keys are still in his pocket; he’d only just gotten back from a night out with Steve when his father had summoned him.
It doesn’t matter that he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Bucky climbs onto his bike and revs the engine, speeding off down the long driveway that winds around the house. The guards barely get the gate open in time and then he’s flying down the road, heading straight to Steve’s bar in the city. He knows his friend will be there, most likely nursing his hangover and going over the books in his back office. He won’t be hard to convince to go out again, though Bucky knows he won’t approve of the plan to drink as much as he possibly can in the next twelve hours. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s Bucky’s last night as a free man, and he’s determined to make the most of it.
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You sit between your parents, staring at the empty seat across from you. They’d told you this morning that you were going to the Barnes Estate for breakfast, and while you’d expected the grandeur of the dining room and the meal, you didn’t expect the eldest Barnes child to be completely absent. You’ve never met him, but your mother has insisted that you speak to James—George Barnes’ only son and heir—as much as possible during the meal. Supposedly, he’s the same age as you.
Rebecca Barnes is a ray of sunshine and her cheery disposition is a stark contrast to the dark clouds that now hang over your fathers’ heads. Maybe it’s a deal gone wrong or maybe it’s something else, but you don’t like it. It leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Silently, you sneak a hand under the table to find your mother’s. You squeeze and your mom squeezes back, glancing over to give a reassuring smile.
“Y/N,” Mrs. Barnes starts, and you jump a little in your seat. You haven’t been verbally addressed since you’d been seated a half hour ago. The food has yet to be served. “Your parents tell us that you’re very interested in horticulture. Did you know we have a rose garden out back?”
You force a polite smile. “I don’t know about very interested. I have a few house plants that I’ve managed to keep alive, though I would love to see your garden sometime. I’m sure it’s beautiful,” you add.
“Maybe Bucky can take you,” Rebecca says, earning herself a sharp look from her mother. She simply shrugs.
Oh, to be as unbothered as Rebecca Barnes!
“Where is James?” your father asks. His voice is a low, threatening growl and you sink down in your chair, staring at the cloth napkin still folded atop your plates.
“He knows to be here,” Mr. Barnes growls back. “You’ll have to excuse his tardiness, he’s not normally like this.”
Mrs. Barnes gives Rebecca an even harsher look when she opens her mouth to speak, and this time the girl actually looks ashamed. She takes a sip of her orange juice to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s the first person to have actually touched something on the table, and it’s like whatever spell the room has been under is broken.
All at once, the dining room springs to life. A short, slightly heavy-set woman in a gray dress and white apron enters through one door. She’s holding a delicate silver coffeepot and the smell of coffee instantly fills the room. Two younger women in identical uniforms follow behind her, each of them pushing golden carts laden with food. Through the door across the room, a tall man with short, dark brown hair stumbles in. He’s wearing all black, from his rumpled button-up and jeans to his boots and sunglasses. His hair is sticking up in every direction and just like the coffee, you can smell the stench of alcohol coming from him even from your seat.
You grimace at the smell and pull your napkin into your lap as one of the women comes to place food in front of you. It’s a formal dining service and the strange new man who’s entered feels entirely out of place. From his attire to the way he shuffles across the antique rug, everything about him screams that he’d rather be anywhere else. If you acted like that, your father would be pulling you back out into the hallway to reprimand you, and you look anxiously at Mr. Barnes, who’s seated at the head of the table. 
“James,” he greets, his voice unnervingly even. A chill runs down your spine. “It’s nice of you to join us. I trust that you slept well last night?”
James collapses into the only empty chair at the table, the one across from you, and pointedly ignores his father. You risk a glance up at him as he reaches for the cup of coffee that’s already been poured.
True to form, Rebecca leans over and claps a hand on her brother’s shoulder blade. “Good morning! Aren’t you excited to have breakfast with our guests?” she shouts, and her smirk makes it much too clear that she’s fully enjoying the way her brother’s scowl deepens. Rebecca also ignores her parents, including her mother, who leans forward to look past James and give her a look of warning.
James shrugs his sister off of him and starts buttering the toast on his plate. You watch for a moment, then start picking at your own food as your mother also begins to eat. Everyone’s acting so strangely that you’re already on edge, and you’ve only managed to get down a few grapes and two bites of dry toast by the time your father speaks up again.
“So when are we signing these papers?” he asks, sipping his coffee. 
“As soon as the marriage license is signed,” answers Mr. Barnes.
You frown. Marriage license? Who’s getting married?
“And the terms are the same as when we last spoke?”
Mr. Barnes sips his own drink, something that looks suspiciously like whiskey, and sets down the glass. “Yes. I have that contract in my office. We’ll review and sign after we’re done here. Are all of your daughter’s things ready to be moved?”
Your stomach drops and you turn to stare at your father with wide eyes. He nods, not even paying attention to you as he continues his conversation with the other man. Your mother pointedly ignores you, choosing instead to stare at her plate as she eats. When you look around the room, it seems like almost everyone else is doing the same. Rebecca is the only person who actually meets your panicked gaze. She gives you a pitying look as your anxiety rises.
It feels like your mouth is filled with sandpaper, and you grab your glass of juice. You have to drink half of it before the feeling even mildly abates. As soon as you set it down, one of the women in gray appears to refill it.
“What’s going on? Why are you moving my stuff?” you finally choke out. You twist the napkin in your lap with both hands, wringing it as you look from one person’s face to the next.
Mr. Barnes stops mid-sentence and the whole room freezes. Even James, who’s pouring something into his coffee cup from a small silver flask, stops what he’s doing.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” your mother begins, taking your hand under the table.
You want to pull away. You don’t.
“After breakfast, your father and I are going home, but you’ll be staying here with the Barneses.”
“What?” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. “No, I don’t— I don’t want to stay here. You never said anything about me—“
“We’re getting married,” James interrupts. He’s chewing and you look over at him, gaping at the casual way he’s sprawled out in his chair. You can feel his gaze on you even from behind his sunglasses and it makes you feel dirty. 
“Excuse me?”
He chuckles and sits up, then leans forward in the chair. He drops the greasy strip of bacon he’d been eating onto his plate. “We’re getting married. They’re using us like bartering chips, sweetheart. You and me in exchange for all the drugs and all the territory in New York.” James gestures grandly with one hand, a too-wide grin on his face. There must be at least ten rings on each of his hands and you swallow thickly at the threatening display of black and silver metal.
You’re trembling now and you pull your hand away from your mom’s. She reaches for you again but you shake your head, shying away from her touch. Frantically, you look around the room to see if this is some kind of joke or a drunken rambling, but no one is laughing. Even Mrs. Barnes has the decency to look sympathetic on your behalf.
“No, no. You wouldn’t—“ You look back at your parents, imploring them to say that it isn’t true. You swallow thickly, trying to stave off tears, and your voice wavers as you prompt, “Mom? Dad?”
Their silence speaks volumes and a whimper escapes you as you wring your hands in your lap. The napkin slides onto the floor. It suddenly feels like you can’t breathe and when your mom reaches out for a second time and starts to tell you to calm down, you jerk away and stand. The chair falls backwards behind you, but you ignore it as you rush out of the dining room and into the hallway you’d entered from. Everything is unfamiliar. Frantically, you pick a door and yank on the handle. It doesn’t give way and you continue the process until one of them finally opens and you can rush inside. You lock it behind you and press your back against the door. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are closed, shrouding the room in darkness. You can’t make out much of the furniture through the tears in your eyes.
Out in the hallway, you can hear your mother calling for you and your father arguing with Mr. Barnes. Mrs. Barnes is yelling at somebody too, but it’s hard enough to hear the others over your own gasps and sobs. You’re properly crying now and you sink to the floor, curling up on the carpet as you heave. It’s a good thing you weren’t able to stomach much breakfast.
A knock on the door makes you yelp and then cry harder, and you crawl into the darkness of the room to try and find a hiding spot. You’re lucky enough to find an old, heavy desk right away. It’s the perfect size for you to crawl under for shelter, and there’s no chair for you to move out of the way. The drawers on both sides create a cubby for you, so you crawl into it and curl up into a ball with your back towards the door, just in case someone manages to get in. If you’re quiet enough, it’s possible they’ll walk right past you.
The crowd in the hallway has definitely heard you by now. The doorknob is rattling as whoever’s on the other side tries to get in, but after a few minutes, they stop and the hallway goes quiet. You hold your breath after every couple of sobs, listening for any sign that they’ve found a key or that they’re picking the lock. Nothing happens, however, and after a while, you give up on listening.
You sit in the darkness and cry until you’re thoroughly exhausted. Once you’ve run out of tears, you sit and zone out with your head resting against the side of the desk drawers for a while longer, numb from the news. Your body feels light and a buzzing, tingling feeling makes moving your limbs seem impossible. You could’ve never imagined that your parents would be so capable of treating you so poorly. You’ve always felt so loved by them, and to hear that they’ve practically thrown you away at the first chance of a profit makes you want to puke. Upon that realization, you actually do throw up, and the stink of your vomit on the carpet of whatever room you’re in makes you want to cry all over again.
The door opens just as the stench is becoming too much to bear. Light floods in from the hallway and you squint, curling up in fear. After a moment, the shorter woman in the gray uniform that you’d seen at breakfast appears a few feet away from the desk, right in the path of light. You look up at her. 
“Oh dear,” she sighs, and you instantly feel ashamed at the disappointment in her voice.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. Your bottom lip is trembling again as fresh tears somehow appear in your eyes. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your wrists. “I can clean it if you—“
“You’ll do no such thing,” the woman says. Her voice is gentle and kind, so much so that you don’t feel the need to argue with her. She waves her hand dismissively and approaches you, then holds out both hands. She’s careful not to step in the mess you’ve made. “Now come on, up you go.”
You let her help you to your feet and then you straighten out your clothes, sniffling and wiping at your nose again in a desperate attempt to look more put together than you feel. Still a bit unsteady, you whimper for a second time, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, dear.” She gives you a warm smile. “My name’s Marta. I’m the head housekeeper here. It’s very nice to meet you.”
You don’t feel the same way about meeting her, given the circumstances, but you hold that comment to yourself and simply nod in agreement. Marta leads you back out into the too-bright hallway. It’s empty except for a bald man mopping the floor on the far end.
The high ceilings and glossy marble floors make it look like you’re in a castle. Even the silence feels regal. Everything seems so cold compared to your home, and you feel too small in the massive space.
“What time is it?” you quietly ask, looking back at Marta.
“It’s almost noon, Miss.”
Your stomach sinks and you press your lips together, inhaling deeply as you look around again. Three hours have passed.  “My parents…”
“They left about fifteen minutes after breakfast,” she tells you. Her words are matter-of-fact, even if she delivers the news in the softest possible way.
Somehow it hurts worse that they’ve left you than finding out they’d practically sold you to the Barneses in exchange for God knows what. Drugs or territory, whatever James had said. Not only did they treat you like nothing, but they’d deserted you after it was clear you didn’t agree with their plans. They hadn’t even tried to reassure you that they still loved you or that you’d still be able to see them. Maybe you wouldn’t be. Maybe they didn’t.
You nod numbly. There’s been nothing to prepare you for this, no precursor or warning, so you keep looking around the hall, though in reality you’re not really seeing anything. 
“Your room is ready upstairs, Miss Y/N. Would you like me to take you?” asks Marta.
You nod again. You feel like you’re underwater as you follow her up a grand staircase and then down a long, narrow hallway. It’s decorated similarly to the ground floor, though with a plush Persian rug running its length. Marta talks as she walks ahead of you, no doubt explaining what the many doors lead to, but her words simply go in one ear and out the other. It’s all so surreal that when you finally get to your own room, you don’t even open the door. Marta has to reach around you to open it, and then she gently ushers you inside when you still don't move.
Just as they had said at breakfast, your belongings have all been moved into the Barnes Estate. The furniture here is different, grander than what you’re used to, but your blankets and pillows are on the bed, and the two bookshelves are packed full of the books you’ve collected over the years. Even the strip from the photo booth at an old friend’s wedding is pinned to the bulletin board above the desk. Someone’s even thought to put your plants on their own table by the window. 
“There’s a bathroom on the left and your closet is on the right,” Marta explains, pointing to each. “If you’re hungry, dinner is at five.”
“Do I have to eat with them?” you ask.
If Marta is surprised by your question, she doesn’t show it. She simply shakes her head with a gentle smile. “No. We can bring food here if you’d like.”
You nod and stand in silence until she leaves and closes the door behind her. Then, after another minute passes, you drag yourself over to the bed, climb under the covers, and close your eyes.
If there’s any mercy left in this life, you think, I’ll fall asleep and never wake up again.
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Weeks pass and you still haven’t adjusted to life at the Barnes Estate. The staff is only slightly less friendly than those you grew up with, but they’re more attentive. It helps that there are more of them. For every member of the Barnes family, yourself included, there are at least four staff members to attend to their every need. It makes you feel like royalty, but it also makes you feel guilty. You don’t need this much. You certainly didn’t ask for it.
You haven’t seen James since the ill-fated breakfast, nor have you seen your parents. They’ve gone so far as to block your number. After that discovery, you’d locked yourself in the massive ensuite bathroom and cried for an hour. Marta had been the one to coax you out. The poor maid who’d found you when coming to get you for dinner hadn’t known how to help. You’d spent that entire evening curled up on your bed while reruns of The Nanny played on the TV embedded in the wall across from the massive mattress. Marta had spent every second with you that she could, but eventually Mrs. Barnes—Winnifred, as you referred to her in your mind—had scolded her for neglecting her nighttime duties across the estate. That made you feel even worse.
“Are you okay?” Rebecca asks, and you turn to look at her from where you’re staring out the hallway windows at the gardeners. The backyard is massive, complete with a rose garden in full bloom, an outdoor swimming pool, a forested walking trail, a large green expanse for games and parties, a gazebo, a fountain, and what seems to be stables far in the distance, though you haven’t ventured far enough to be sure. A visit to the rose garden hasn’t been brought up again either, and nothing seems interesting enough to explore on your own.
Nodding, you don’t say anything before turning back to watch the men work. They talk and laugh with each other as they prune, pick, and water. You wish that you could trade places with them. 
“You don’t look okay,” she says. Rebecca props herself up on the window ledge to your right, facing you with a suspicious look on her face. “We haven’t seen you at any meals, and Valerie told me that you were crying in the bathtub three nights ago.”
You should feel ashamed, but you’re too numb to care. It feels like you’re floating through each day, detached from most things. You’ve spent your entire life thinking that you would marry for love and live happily ever after. Now, your parents have sold you to the highest bidder and your husband-to-be is a cruel, disgusting man-child that wants nothing to do with you.
Rebecca’s fingers lacing with yours jerk you back to reality and you look down at your joined hands in confusion. Her nails are bitten short and she wears a single ring with the Barnes family crest. It’s dainty and gold, a stark contrast to the many rings on her brother’s fingers.
“You’re safe here, Y/N,” she tells you, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be alone. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you. If I had any say in it, you could be home right now with your parents, but I’m far from the top of the totem pole.”
“I hate them.” You spit the words out and jerk your hand away from hers. “I hate my parents.”
That’s the first time you’ve ever said that in your entire life and your heart skips a beat as the anger makes your lip curl. You’re baring your teeth at her but Rebecca doesn’t even flinch. She’s a mafia princess, through and through.
“They made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, that I could marry whoever I wanted whenever I was ready, and then they threw that all away and treated me like shit the first time it was convenient for them.”
She nods. “That’s true.”
“I was so foolish to have believed them,” you growl, but the fight in you is fading just as quickly as it came. You burn bright, but you burn quickly, too.
“No,” Rebecca says, shaking her head. “You’re just human.”
You look away, embarrassed by your display of emotion as your eyes begin to water with more tears. You were raised to be reserved. You knew very little about the inner workings of your parents’ business, but you’d learned as a young girl that you’d fare better if you always clung to the edges of the room, avoiding the dirt and grime and blood that surrounded your whole life. Over the years, you’ve grown very good at hiding yourself and your emotions from the people around you. From the spark in her eye, you have the feeling that Rebecca is the exact opposite. She could hold her own if it came down to it. You couldn’t.
“It’s okay to be upset,” she insists.
Shaking your head, you take a deep breath and look back out the window. You lift your chin slightly and when Rebecca tries to rope you into another conversation with her, you ignore her and focus on the men outside. They’re finished tending to the roses on the edges of the garden. Now they’re working their way inwards.
You’re finally left alone a few minutes later and as soon as she’s around the corner, you let out a heavy sigh and relax your posture. Slumping forward, you lean forward into the window ledge, curling up just a little as you continue to watch the gardeners. The silly song from Alice in Wonderland pops into your head and you hum along, eventually mumbling to yourself about painting the roses red.
You feel a little bit like Alice, you realize. You’re out of your element in a strange land where everything you’ve learned about life seems to be turned on its head. In this world, nobody marries for love and the girls are just as entrenched in the business as the men. Does Rebecca conduct business with her father and older brother? You could certainly picture it. Will the same be expected of you?
That afternoon, Marta knocks on your door with a written invitation from Winnifred. Your presence is being formally requested at their dinner table, though from the look the housekeeper is giving you, it’s more of a demand than a request. With her help, you pick out something to wear. By the time five o’clock rolls around, you’re crossing the enormous hallway in a dress and heels that you’ve never seen before. It’s far too showy for your taste, but it’s clearly something someone wanted you to wear. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have put it in your closet.
George Barnes and James stand when you enter the dining room, as do several other men you don’t recognize. Your father is standing near the head of the table with George, though your mother and Rebecca are nowhere in sight. Besides Winnifred, you don’t recognize any of the other women. The only empty seat is beside James and your immediate instinct is to flee, but then he’s stepping aside to pull out the chair and all eyes are on you.
Slowly, you close the distance between the two of you and sit. He helps you scoot in, then takes his own seat on your right. The other men sit as well and then dinner resumes. You sit in silence, staring at the top edge of your plate with your hands in your lap. You’re not really listening to the conversations around you, either, but you can feel someone’s eyes on you as you try to stay as quiet and motionless as possible.
“Are you sick or something?”
You startle and look up with wide eyes. James is watching you. He’s got one hand on the table with his fingers brushing the stem of his wineglass and the other resting on his thigh. Unlike your fateful breakfast weeks ago, James is dressed in a neat, all-black suit. He has no tie, and his rings are all gone except one. It’s identical to Rebecca’s family crest, except his is silver and has a thicker band.
His eyes are full of something you can’t place and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. As quickly as you turned to him, you turn away and look back at your plate. The napkin is folded in some elaborate way on top of the plate. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to resemble anything at all, but maybe if you stare at it long enough, it will look like something.
“Y/N?” he prompts. You nod once, tightly, and then pull the heavy cloth napkin into your lap when a server appears to present the first course.
Between the second and third course, you can feel James’ eyes on you. After the third, he gets roped into conversation with a man sitting across the table, but you know that he’s glancing at you all the while. After the fourth, he bumps his arm against yours. You shirk away and feel him tense beside you.
“Excuse me,” you mumble, and you push your chair away from the table. Immediately, the conversations stop and all the men stand again. It’s too much attention on you and you hurry out of the dining room as fast as your heels and dress will allow. You’re stumbling over yourself by the time you get back to your suite on the third floor. The door slams behind you and you collapse onto the floor beside the bed, too overwhelmed to even climb atop the oversized mattress. You’re on the verge of tears when there’s a soft knock from the door, and that rips a sob from your chest that you hadn’t expected.
Immediately, the door opens and James is standing in the open space, a dark look on his face. You sob again and scramble backwards until the edge of the bed frame is digging painfully into your spine.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
You swallow hard and take several gasping breaths, trying to control yourself. Your mind is spinning with insults, calling you weak and pathetic, and you believe every one.
“It’s just too much,” you answer through your tears. “I don’t want this!”
James huffs. His angry expression has faded, now replaced with something more akin to irritation. “And you think I do?”
You shake your head. “Of course not.”
“These are the cards we’ve been dealt, doll. You’re gonna have to get over it. Let’s just get married and then we can live happily ever after in a big house where we never have to see each other. I’ll do what I want and you can do what you want. Sound like a plan?”
You look down at your hands. A big part of you wants to say that no, it doesn’t sound like a plan. You don’t want that life. You don’t want a house so big that you practically need a golf cart to get from one side to the other. You don’t want a husband who ignores you in favor of his blood money or his side chick or the next shiny toy off the black market. You don’t want James.
Though every part of you is screaming the opposite, you nod. He crosses the room and you inhale sharply to steady yourself as he approaches you with no care. His black dress shoes are tracking dirt across the rug. James holds out a hand to help you up and you take it. The heirloom ring on his right hand digs into yours until you’re standing, and then he drops your hand like it’s on fire.
“We need to go back,” he tells you, and you nod again. “Our parents are pissed.”
“Of course they are,” you mumble. 
James pauses, staring at you critically. You’ve been staring at the baseboards since he helped you up, but when he doesn’t move or speak, you glance upwards at him. He’s got one eyebrow raised. His expression is thoroughly unreadable otherwise and an unsettling feeling blooms in your stomach.
“What?” you ask. You step back a little, but there’s no place to go except up against the bed again.
He shakes his head at you. “Nothing. Come on, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” You scrunch your nose. “Anything but that.”
“Sugar?” he offers, and when you shake your head, he sighs. “Well, what do you want me to call you, since you’re suddenly the one calling the shots?”
His words cut deep and you look back down, hating the way shame immediately pools in your belly. How could he seem angry and irritated with you, then borderline kind, and then completely disinterested in your feelings the next? It’s disorienting, and you don’t need that on top of everything else.
“That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”
Grabbing your arm in a grip just bordering on painful, James pulls you out of your bedroom and back down the hall. He holds on as you stumble behind him in your heels. When you reach the ground floor hallway again, he drops his hand and offers you his arm. You’re hesitant to take it, but he sighs a little and you decide that it’s easier to give in than to put up a fight.
The two of you walk back into the dining room and the conversations immediately hush. James leads you to your waiting seats, pulls out the chair for you, and then helps you scoot towards the table again once you’re seated. As he takes his spot beside you, your father speaks up.
“Have you and James discussed when you’ll be getting married?” he asks.
You pick up your fork and stare at the strange food on your plate, ignoring him. Though your stomach is churning, you force yourself to take a bite. He can’t expect you to answer while you’re chewing—it would be bad manners.
“Next spring,” James answers. “In the rose garden.”
You want to spit on the roses. You swallow your food instead.
“Good choice,” Mr. Barnes agrees. He turns his attention back to your father. “Your daughter is quite the well-behaved woman. She’ll do well with our James.”
Beside you, James tenses again, his grip tightening slightly on his fork. You glance at him, holding your breath, and wait until he relaxes again to take another bite of your food. 
The rest of the dinner passes with mundane, meaningless conversations. Nobody addresses you for the remainder of the meal, not even your parents, and finally the men begin to make their way out of the dining room to an adjoining room. You hadn’t even realized there was a room connected; the door is hidden amongst the paneling and crown molding on the walls.
“You can’t go in there.” James grabs your wrist as you stand to follow the group of men into the new room. His voice isn’t malicious and his grip isn’t tight, but you flinch away from him anyway. It’s only then that you realize the few women that had been in the room are leaving through the door to the hall with their wineglasses in hand.
“Because I’m a woman?” you counter.
“Because you don’t want to hear the things that they’re going to discuss,” he answers. He tosses his napkin on the table and stands, towering over you. After a long second of eye contact, he steps away from you and heads towards the men.
You watch him go and silently weigh your options. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even thought about following the men into the second room. You would have simply taken the same path as the other woman, though your wine would have continued to remain untouched. Now, however, with your wine in hand, you stood at a crossroads. You could go into the room and potentially face the wrath of your father, James, and George Barnes, or you could live forever curious as to what was actually being discussed. 
With your mind made up, you down your wine, step around James, and head through the open door into the room. It’s a study with dark wood paneling on the walls, leather couches, and stale cigar smoke in the air. As soon as you enter, the laughter and conversation stop and all eyes land on you.
“Y/N, you should be with Winnie and your mother,” Mr. Barnes says, stepping towards you. James is behind you now and though you’re hedged in, you simply lift your chin at the older man.
“Why? Am I not allowed to know what family I’m marrying into?”
His face darkens. “Girl, I’m warning you—”
“Don’t speak to my wife like that.” James’ voice from over your shoulder startles you and you quickly turn your head, looking back at him with shock. 
Why is he suddenly standing up for me?
“Hold your tongue, James,” his father snaps. “You aren’t married yet, and Y/N needs to learn her place. One would think her father would have taught her better, considering the problems his wife caused.”
Though you hate your parents for what they’ve done to you, your blood boils at the insult. Your anger rears its ugly head even more when you realize that your father doesn’t look intent on standing up for you or your mom, either.
“That’s enough!”
You swear the room rattles around you when James shouts and you grit your teeth, furious at Mr. Barnes. How dare he insult your father? How dare he talk to you and his son that way?
James grabbing your hand shocks you back into reality. Once again, his grip is almost painfully tight, but you force your face to reveal nothing.
“Y/N and I are going out. If I so much as hear that you’ve said a single thing about her in my absence, you will regret ever giving me any kind of power in this business,” he growls. “The next time you see her, I expect that you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves.” 
The men stare at you and James in disbelief, and then you find yourself being practically dragged out of the room. You’re too stunned to fight back, so you let him pull you across the ground floor of the estate to a door only two down from the dark room where you’d hit the morning your parents had left you behind.
“We’ll have to take the car, unless you’re okay riding the bike in that dress,” James says, pushing open the door. He doesn’t look back at you as he speaks, and it takes you a second to realize he wants a response.
“Car,” you answer after a few seconds. “Please.”
The room James has led you to is a massive garage, stretching farther than you ever realized a similar room could. Three of the walls are made of light gray cement, as are the floor and ceiling, and the fourth wall is made up of windowed garage doors, each one big enough for several cars to drive through simultaneously. Running down the center of the rectangular garage, there is a row of seven parked cars, with enough space to fit at least another car between each one, and beyond that, you can see a row of several motorcycles parked in a similar manner. The cars are in varying shades of gray and black, with the exception of one red sports car at the far end of the group. You can’t see the bikes well enough from the door, but you catch glimpses of blue, silver, gray, and black.
Four enormous, black and silver tool chests are lined up against the wall facing the hoods of the cars, but there isn’t a spot of oil or dirt in sight. You don’t even see any loose tools or equipment. Looking around, you wonder if the tool chests are just there for decoration, or if someone on the estate actually works on the cars and motorcycles.
Maybe James works on them?
“Are all of these yours?” you ask, unable to help yourself. He seems like the kind of guy who would enjoy driving around for fun, and he’s just mentioned something about a bike. You stare at the side of James’ face as he plucks a set of keys off a black pegboard on the wall. There’s a button embedded in the wall beside the board. James pushes it with one thumb and the keys in his hand bump against the wall.
One of the garage doors near the last few cars starts to roll upwards onto the ceiling, revealing the outside of the estate. The sun has completely disappeared from the sky, and the moonlight is blocked by the clouds you’d seen rolling in earlier in the afternoon. The leaves of the large shade trees that surround the estate and form a protective shield from the outside world rustle in the wind. Crickets and cicadas chirp, reminding you of the cool spring nights you’d spent on your family estate as a little girl. You’d run around in the grass near the garden while your mom or your nanny watched you. Sometimes your father’s men would watch from the perimeter of the property, and when you’d wave, they’d wave back, asking what you’d done that day. You always answered them, even if you knew it would get you in trouble. They never stopped asking either, even if it got them in trouble, too.
You stop walking and close your eyes, then breathe in deeply as the night air rushes into the garage. It’s the first time you’ve been even close to the outdoors since arriving at the Barnes Estate. Your skin is still warm from the stifling dining room and the anger you’d felt in the men’s study. The breeze is a blessed relief, even if you do shiver after only a moment. Goosebumps form on your exposed skin—the dress Marta had picked out for you did little to keep you safe from the elements. 
James keeps walking down the aisle formed by the wall and the front of the cars, though you hear his footsteps pause a few moments after you stop following him. 
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You’re a little surprised that he’s not demanding that you catch up. When you open your eyes, you immediately meet his gaze, and a weird feeling bubbles up in your stomach. The expression on his face betrays little, but his stare reminds you of the way your father’s men looked at you all those years ago—interested and almost fond, but ready to push you away at a moment’s notice. You nod and hurry to catch up with him.
Once you get closer, James presses a button on the key fob in his hand. One of the cars in front of the open garage door rumbles to life. The sound it makes is a low purr, almost seductive, and you raise an eyebrow as James approaches, then runs his fingers over the hood. Even if the others aren’t, this car has to be his. It’s a sleek black, with dark tinted windows and a gleaming silver grill in the front. The BMW logo shines proudly in the center. It looks like a car your own father would own. Though you know he’s never owned a BMW, if this car is anything like the ones in your father’s fleet, you know that the inside will be as much a picture of luxury as the outside.
You slide into the passenger seat when James opens the door for you, and in the time it takes him to cross around the front of the car to the driver’s side, you take inventory of the interior. It’s a manual transmission—something your father once said was obsolete, except for car collectors and enthusiasts—which means that you wouldn’t be able to drive it, even if you tried. The car is pristine, so much so that you’re afraid to move. Two water bottles are in the cupholders, and it still smells brand new inside. There isn’t a speck of dirt or dust on the dashboard, nor on the floor mats. The leather seat is soft and there’s a control for seat warming and cooling on the control panel.
James climbs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He buckles up and you follow his lead, and then you sit back as he reverses the car out of the garage and onto a winding driveway that leads you around the front of the estate, then along the other side to a large gate with a guard house. You’d forgotten about the extensive security since the last time you’d been outside the Barnes Estate. Your father had handed over your driver’s license, along with his and your mother’s, before breakfast all those weeks ago, and there’d been a strange code word of some kind. It dawns on you as the guard opens the gate for you and James that you’d never gotten your license back.
“Where are we going?” you ask as James pulls onto the main road. It leads away from the estate and into the city. 
“To get some real food,” he replies. His tone is gruff, and it feels like he’s on the verge of an angry outburst, so you slump back in your seat as he shifts gears and the car accelerates. The tension in the car is thick. You don’t want to be the one to deal with it, especially since he’s the one creating it.
After several minutes of watching the enormous mansions and the forests surrounding them pass by, you look over at James again. His expression, just like in the garage, reveals nothing, but you can tell that he’s more put-together than the last time you’d interacted, and it’s not just the tailored suit. His hair has been trimmed and styled, and he has an even dusting of stubble that frames his jawline nicely.
In the time since you’d learned you were engaged, James hasn’t said anything to you. You’ve heard him talking in the hallways as you wandered, but you haven’t wanted to be near him. This is the closest you’ve ever been. Your brief conversations so far tonight make up the majority of the words you’ve spoken to each other. His words from the bedroom echo in your head, until finally, you can’t help but blurt out your thoughts.
“Do you really not want to marry me?” you ask. Your voice sounds small and pathetic, and you hate it, but it’s too late now. 
He glances over at you with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. “What do you mean?”
You sit up a little in the seat, though you keep your hands in your lap and you try not to move your feet, just in case there’s dirt on your shoes.
“I mean,” you say, watching him carefully for his reaction, “that when you came to get me upstairs, you said you didn’t want to marry me. Is that really true?”
“I never said that.” He shifts gears again as you near a stoplight, and the car slows. 
“Yes, you did.”
“No,” he shifts again, his teeth now clenched, “I didn’t. I asked if it looked like I wanted to marry you, and you said it didn’t. But I never said I didn’t want to.”
Now you’re confused, and you frown at him, ignoring the obvious irritation in his voice. The car rolls to a stop behind a Ferrari blasting music out the open windows. 
“So you do want to marry me?” you ask. 
He sighs and drops his hand from the gear shift, then looks over at you. “Y/N, I’m not going to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, so if this is you testing to see how I’ll treat you, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not a monster.”
“It’s not. I just…” You stop, unsure of how to phrase what you’re feeling. It’s strange to be upset over a marriage you don’t even want, but for some reason, you are. 
“What?”
“If you don’t want to marry me and I don’t want to marry you, then why are we going along with this?” you finally ask, settling for the bigger question than the one that’s truly nagging at you.
“Because we know that if we don’t, life will be hell,” he answers.
It’s the truth. You know it is, and you know it deep down. If the two of you refuse this marriage, your life will be worse than you could possibly imagine, and you’re fairly certain that your fathers will find a way to make it happen anyhow. They’re well-connected in every sphere of life, not just when it comes to drugs and weapons. Your father probably has a priest on his payroll.
The light turns green and James moves the car forward again, merging into the right lane almost immediately. He slows as you approach a valet stand outside an upscale bar you’ve never heard of. It’s not one of your father’s, which means it probably belongs to George Barnes.
Then again, you think as a uniformed man opens your door, maybe it belongs to James.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Barnes,” a valet on the other side of the car greets.
James hands him the keys. “You too, Tommy. Listen, don’t park it too far off. We’re not staying too long.”
The man nods and climbs into the driver’s seat as your own valet leads you away from the curb. James meets you next to the valet stand and offers you his arm, then heads towards the doors.
“What is this place?” you ask as he holds open the door for you.
“My friend’s bar,” James says.
Your stomach twists itself in knots as heavy club music starts to get louder. The bass rumbles in your chest and you dig your nails into his arm as you near a set of glossy black double doors. You haven’t been to a club in a long time. The last time you’d gone, you’d been dragged by a childhood acquaintance, but you’d spent most of the night alone after she’d ditched you for someone she met on the dance floor. You’re not particularly eager to relive that experience tonight, especially with the man you’re being forced to marry. Who’s to say he won’t ditch you for someone else right in front of you, just to rub it in your face? After all, he’d said it himself in the bedroom—you’ll do what you want and he’ll do what he wants. It’s the cards you’ve been dealt.
If these are the cards, then I’ve got a sucky hand.
“James—”
“Bucky.”
You stop and squint at him in the low light of the entrance hallway. The two bouncers in all-black suits stop with their hands on the door handles, ready to open them for you once you start walking again. The music pounds in your ears, so much so that you can feel your eardrums vibrating.
“What?” you ask, not sure you’d heard him correctly.
“Bucky,” repeats James, a little louder this time. “You should call me Bucky, if we’re going to be married.”
“Is that… a nickname?” 
Even in the darkness, you can see him laugh, and a bashful, boyish smile spreads across his face. “My middle name is Buchanan. Steve used to tease me about it when we were kids, and he started calling me Bucky as a joke. It caught on.” He shrugs it off, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his childhood friend, and it makes you smile just a little.
You loosen your grip on his arm. “Okay then. Bucky,” you add.
When Bucky steps forward again, the doors are pulled open, revealing a much more casual bar than you could’ve anticipated. Though it’s clean, it looks a little run down, and the heavy music fades into jazz piano as you step through the open doorway and into the large, open space. With almost cathedral-height ceilings, walnut floors and support pillars, and well-worn wooden booths and tables, the bar feels more homier than you’d expected. It’s clearly been well-hidden from the busy crowds of New York. Only a few patrons are scattered around the room, sitting in the booths or at two-top tables, but Bucky leads you to the wood, u-shaped bar that juts out into the room from the back wall. A single man stands behind it, drying glasses with a white bar towel. He smiles when he looks up and sees you approaching.
“Bucky,” he greets, and he reaches over the bar to pull Bucky in for a hug. It’s the first time you see Bucky smile—a real, full, genuine smile—and you watch in silence as he hugs his friend.
“Steve,” Bucky replies. Instantly, your brain starts connecting the dots. This is his childhood friend, the one who gave him his nickname.
“Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil.” Steve turns his attention to you, and you quickly look away from Bucky and at him. Your brain whirs as you try to place the language he’s just spoken. It’s not one you’ve heard before, which means none of your father’s men speak it, and neither do any of the Barneses.
“You must be Y/N.”
You nod and offer Steve a small, polite smile. You’re not sure how to act around Bucky’s friends. If they’re also part of the mob, it’s possible they’ll treat you even worse than George Barnes had after dinner, but a new, surprising voice in your head argues that Bucky would never be friends with someone like that.
“It’s okay,” reassures Bucky. He reaches out and touches your arm, gentler than he has all evening. “Steve’s a nice guy, and he knows about our family businesses. You can trust him.”
Steve looks between the two of you before picking up a glass and setting it right-side-up in front of you. “What’ll it be, Y/N?”
You glance at him, then at the wall of liquor behind him. After a moment, you list off a drink that’s not your favorite, but that you know you’ll be able to stomach no matter the circumstances. Steve nods in response before starting to make it.
Silently, Bucky takes one of the chairs at the bar, and you do the same. He sits with his arms folded on the counter. He’s still wearing his suit from dinner. You feel a little out of place in your fancy clothes, and you wonder if he feels the same.
Your drink is placed in front of you a moment later, and after Steve’s silent prompting, you take a sip. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but smile at him.
“Aha, I’ve still got it!” Steve cheers, and you laugh. He grins at you, a charming type of smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. You feel a little sheepish at the intensity of his joy, and you fidget in your seat, then with your hair.
Beside you, Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses a round paper coaster at his friend. “Knock it off, Rogers,” he huffs. “Stop flirting with my girl. You’ve already got one of your own.”
You glance over when he calls you that, but you don’t say anything. There’s another weird feeling in your gut now. This one, unlike the one you’d had in the car or the fluttering feeling Steve had given you, you recognize immediately—pride. It feels good to have Bucky call you “his girl”, even if you barely know him. It’s strange, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat again. You drop your hand down to the bartop and take another sip of your drink, trying to quell the strange feelings inside of you. 
What is going on with me? Why can’t I just feel normal about all of this? Is there even a normal way to feel about this?
“You hungry?” asks Bucky, and you nod when you realize he’s talking to you again.
“I make a mean twice-baked potato,” Steve says. He plants his hands on the bar to look between the two of you. “Whaddaya say, Y/N? You up for it?”
“Only if you put the jalapeños on the side this time, punk,” Bucky tells him before you can reply. He seems to remember himself a second later, however, because he looks over at you. “Unless, of course, you want them on top.”
You shrug, not wanting to upset anyone, and Steve groans.
“Come on, Y/N,” he says, and he smiles wide as he gestures around the almost-empty bar. “I’ve got all the time in the world to make your food exactly the way you want it. Don’t make me guess.”
“He’s bad at guessing,” Bucky chimes in.
“Terrible,” Steve adds, nodding earnestly.
Tentatively, you list off what you want, and Steve makes a note of everything on a notepad that seems to appear out of nowhere. Once he’s got your order down, he disappears through a door in the back wall. Before it closes, you catch a glimpse of a shining kitchen filled with stainless steel, and you wonder how many patrons come through the bar if Steve has what looks to be a full-sized kitchen in the back.
“You didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you someplace that actually has good food,” Bucky says. He reaches across the bar to grab a bottle of beer Steve has left out, and he uses one hand to pry the top off. 
You gape at him, too distracted by the blatant show of strength to properly process the very thoughtful thing he’s just said to you. “What?”
“I said that you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I figured—”
“You just pulled the top off like it was nothing. How did you do that?” You look around on Steve’s side of the bar for another bottle, hoping to try your luck. Maybe it’s some new kind of bottle that he’s trying out before it hits the market, or maybe Steve has bootleg beer with a different kind of cap.
Bucky is staring at you, seemingly just as confused as you. “With my arm.”
“With your arm?” you repeat. You’re certain that he’d used his hand to pry it off.
He stares at you for a second longer before the confusion disappears and is replaced with a glint of mischief in his eyes. It makes the shadows on his face melt away a little, and his blue irises seem bright and youthful again, entirely unlike a man who’s seen too much.
“My arm,” he reiterates, and then he pulls off the black glove you’d assumed to be part of his personal style. It’s not just for show, however, because he pulls it off to reveal a black metal hand with dull gold knuckles. Bucky continues, standing and shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeve of his button-down shirt. As he reveals more and more, you realize that the black metal continues, making up what would be his left arm.
No wonder it hurt when he grabbed me.
“It’s metal,” you dumbly say, and he snorts.
“Observant.”
You shake your head and look from his arm to meet his eyes. “You have a metal arm. How didn’t I know that?”
Bucky shrugs and drapes his jacket over the back of the chair. He leaves the glove on the bar where he’d first set it down. Once he’s seated again, he rolls up his other sleeve to match.
“Beats me. I figured everyone knew. My dad wasn’t subtle when he was bragging about the arm he had made for me when it first happened,” replies Bucky. He takes a sip of his beer, then sighs and sets it back down.
You don’t want to pity him, so you try your best to school your expression by taking a sip of your own drink.
“Was it an accident?” you ask after a minute has passed. He doesn’t reply right away, and you scramble to save the conversation. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He shakes his head. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen,” he says, and his voice is quieter than before.
You look back down at the drink in front of you. Twisting the glass around and around, you ask, “And it was an accident?”
Bucky takes another swig of his beer. “I was with my dad, working a job. I didn’t even realize I’d been injured until I woke up in the hospital, two weeks later, missing an arm. Apparently, falling shipping containers are heavy.”
You can’t help but curse. What he’s describing sounds horrible, but Bucky only laughs.
“That sounds about right, yeah. I’m lucky I had Steve around to keep me sane,” he tells you. “My friend Sam was a big help too, but he moved down to Louisiana a few years ago.”
“Steve seems like a good friend,” you agree. “They both do.”
You can feel Bucky staring at you now, and you take a sip of your drink while you wait for him to look away again. When he doesn’t, you glance in his direction.
“What?” you ask.
“What?”
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are!” you laugh, and you look at him fully this time. Bucky’s grinning, and you ball up a cocktail napkin and toss it at him.
“Okay, I was staring,” he admits, still smiling. “But I can’t help it. You’re pretty, and you’re nice, and you seem smart.”
You feel your cheeks grow warm at the compliment, and you look away. “You don’t have to say that. We’re already engaged.”
“I’m not saying it because we’re engaged. I’m saying it because it’s true.”
You don’t have a chance to reply before Steve comes out with two hot plates. He places them in front of you, joking briefly about giving you the wrong order, and it’s distraction enough that you sit up tall and smile wide. You push Bucky’s compliment out of your head as you chow down, groaning and moaning about the potatoes. They’re exactly what you need after the stressful dinner. Bucky was right—you hadn’t eaten much, and Steve’s cooking is delicious.
Once you’re full, you push your plate away and lean back in your chair. Steve grins at you before he goes back to counting the cash drawer. The other patrons have left already, leaving you, Steve, and Bucky alone in the bar.
“That was amazing,” you tell him for the hundredth time, and Steve chuckles.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell mo bhean chéile—my wife—you said that, considering she still believes potatoes aren’t a meal.”
You notice the wedding band on his left hand as soon as he says it. Above it, also in silver, is a familiar ring. If you weren’t able to see the family crest, you would’ve thought it was the same as Bucky’s, but this ring has an eagle and a star engraved on it, rather than the wolf you’ve seen on Rebecca and Bucky’s rings.
“Potatoes are a meal!” you argue. You can tell that Steve has clocked you looking at his rings because he shifts his hand, instinctively blocking your view as he looks for your own ring. You’d taken your parent’s ring off the day you’d cried in the bathtub and you haven’t worn it since, but no one in Bucky’s family has replaced it with their own. It’s the first time since middle school that you haven’t worn a family ring, and you’d be lying if you said it was a weight off your shoulders. You’d thought it might be, but instead it just makes you feel naked.
Steve laughs and his posture relaxes. He stops hiding his rings from you when he realizes your hands are bare. “Well, whenever you meet her, you can have that argument with her, because I’ve already had it at least a dozen times.” He closes the drawer and fixes his eyes on Bucky, who’s just finishing his food. “Speaking of, when are you two coming over? I promised Peg I’d wait until Y/N had settled in to ask, and you seem settled enough to me.” He glances at you for the last part, and you look down at your empty plate.
“It’s not up to me,” answers Bucky. “We’ll come over whenever Y/N is ready. This is the first time we’ve been together since my dad dropped the bomb on us.”
Steve pauses, his hands on the tablet he’d set down before starting to count the night’s profits. “Wait. Really?”
You nod when he looks at you, suddenly self-conscious again, and you pull your hands into your lap. “I haven’t been the best house guest…”
“You’re not a guest, Y/N. It’s your home now, too,” Bucky interjects.
Reaching over the counter, Steve smacks the side of Bucky’s head. His accent is thick when he huffs, “Íosa Críost, you thick! You didn’t think to go talk to her? To see if she wanted to watch a movie? To see if she needed anything?”
Bucky stammers over in his seat, and you keep your head ducked to hide your smile. Clearly, Steve knows more about being married than Bucky does—most likely from experience, since he’s already mentioned his wife—and he isn’t afraid to tell his friend off for not looking out for your well-being.
“I’m sorry!” exclaims Bucky, ducking another hit. “I wasn’t thinking!”
“Like ifreann you weren’t!” Steve retreats and picks up the tablet with a huff, then looks at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him. He’s actually a nice guy when he’s not being stupid.”
“Stupid?” Bucky protests beside you.
“I wouldn’t have talked to him even if he’d tried,” you admit, finally looking up, “but it wouldn’t have hurt if he had.”
Steve nods, satisfied with your response. He leaves you a minute later when his phone rings. The wide smile on his face is enough to tell you who’s on the other end, but then he says her name as he walks away, the phone already held to his ear.
“So what’s with this place?” you ask. The quick change in subject is purposeful, and you hope that Bucky will take the bait.
Thankfully, he does. Bucky glances around before finishing off the last of his drink and setting the empty bottle closer to Steve’s side of the bar.
“Well, Steve wanted a place that we—and other people like us—could spend time without feeling like there was always a fight about to happen. We didn’t have that growing up, you know? And now that he’s in charge, he can do what he wants with his money. Everything’s filed properly, he doesn’t advertise, and all employees are paid above the table. If other people show up, then sure, they’re welcomed in, but they’re also fully vetted once Steve gets their IDs. Weapons aren’t allowed, and there’s no shop talk of any kind.”
“So it’s your little hideaway,” you say, propping your head up with one hand. The heaviness of the potatoes combined with the alcohol is starting to make you sleepy, and the emotional exhaustion from the night has started to weigh heavy on you, too.
He smiles a little. “Something like that.”
Bucky stands and rolls his sleeves back down, then pulls on his glove. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and sets it on the bar.
“Come on, doll. We should head home,” he says.
The warm feeling you’d felt when Bucky had called you his girl comes back, and you smile a little when he holds open his suit jacket for you. A little sheepish at the gesture, you slide off your seat and let him help you into the sleeves, then take Bucky’s hand when he offers it.
“Bye Steve!” you call, waving with your free hand.
Steve looks up from the other end of the bar, where he’s wiping down a counter with one hand and holding his phone with the other. He lets go of the rag to wave back.
Silently, Bucky leads you out to the front, where the valet already has his car pulled up. You’re not sure how they knew to have it ready, but you don’t dwell on it. Stranger things have happened in your world. Bucky tips the valets with another wad of cash before opening the passenger door and helping you in.
You fall asleep on the drive home. You don’t mean to, but Bucky turns on the radio a few minutes into the drive, and he lets the first station that comes on continue to play. The music is soft, and he drives so smoothly that it lulls you to sleep before you’re even fully out of the city.
When you wake, it’s because Bucky’s stubbed his toe on something, jostling you in his arms. He’s muttering curses under his breath and hobbling down the hallway, and though the jerking motion and his tightening grip isn’t the most comfortable for you at the moment, you keep your eyes closed and force yourself to keep your smile at bay. Bucky is a much sweeter guy than you’d first thought him to be, and it seems like he’s trying now to make up for lost time. You’d misjudged him at first; just like you, he has his own ways of dealing with the life forced on him by his parents, but he really is a gentleman underneath it all.
He carries you to your bedroom and carefully lays you on top of the covers. Then, as gently as possible, you feel him lift your foot and pry off the uncomfortable shoes Marta had picked out for you. Bucky stays totally silent as he takes the shoes off and sets them on the floor at the end of the bed. He pulls a thin blanket over you, one that you’re sure is just for decoration when the bed is made, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. You have to force yourself not to smile when he whispers,
“Goodnight, sleep tight.”
The door clicks shut as he closes it slowly, and you peek open an eye after a few seconds have passed. Your room is dark and empty. Silently, you smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, your eyes heavy. It’s been a long, exhausting evening, and you’re happy to be in bed. You fall asleep to the sound of spring rain on the estate windows and with Bucky’s jacket still wrapped around you.
Over the next few weeks, Bucky slowly enters your life in both big and small ways. He smiles at you over meals in the dining room and late night snacks in the kitchen. He drives you to the city to visit Steve, Peggy, and his other friends, and when he finds out that his father still has your license, Bucky argues with him for over an hour to get it back. Marta delivers your license to your room the very next day, along with a handwritten note that the dark blue Mercedes in the garage is there for your use. Sometimes, you wake up to a bouquet of flowers with another handwritten note. Sometimes it’s a text, and sometimes it’s a gift. Bucky develops a habit of purchasing anything you mention enjoying or even vaguely liking, and you eventually have to tell him to stop because he’s bought you so much that there’s nothing left to buy for yourself.
Bucky turns out to be a closer friend than anyone you’ve ever known. He’s kind, and funny, and intelligent, and he remembers all the little things about you that nobody else does. When you’re sick or feeling lonely, he’s attentive and his presence alone reminds you of all the good things in the world. He makes your days brighter, even the worst ones. You find yourself falling in love with him, much to your surprise. You admit this to him one day. He kisses you then, and he tells you that he’s been in love with you since the first trip you’d taken to Steve’s bar. 
Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas roll around. New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, and Easter come and go. The Barnes’ grand celebrations for every holiday blur together as the months fly by, until eventually, it’s June and you’re standing in your room, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror.
The wedding dress you’d picked out a few days after Christmas is just as beautiful as you remember it being. It fits you perfectly, thanks to the impeccable work of several tailors employed by Winnifred, and your hair and makeup are flawless as well. There’s no possible way you could’ve imagined how beautiful you look and feel on your wedding day. 
Through the open window, you can hear a string quartet playing outside in the rose garden, where the ceremony is set up. Steve has already come by once to check on you at Bucky’s request, but both men are back downstairs. Bucky’s no doubt at the front of the garden with the priest—the one that you now know for certain is on your father’s payroll—and Steve is waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The only people remaining in your room are Marta, your mother, and Peggy. 
You’ve grown to love Peggy more than any of your childhood friends. She didn’t grow up in the same world as you. She didn’t even grow up in the same country, and you love her all the more for it. She’s rational, cool-headed, and kind, though she’s not afraid to stand up for what’s right. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. It’s easy to see why Steve fell for her during his time in the military.
The quartet finishes the song and moves onto a new one, one that you recognize after only two notes. Your stomach drops and you close your eyes, gripping your bouquet tightly. It’s the song you’d been listening to the morning you’d found out about your engagement. You’d discovered it the night before, and you’d had it on repeat before going to sleep that night, then again that morning as you’d gotten ready. You’d even listened to it in the car on the drive from your parents’ estate.
Who added this to the playlist? Is this some kind of sick joke to them?
The same feeling of dread you’d felt that morning comes back, making your mouth dry and your head spin. You try to take a slow, deep breath to calm your nerves and block out the song, but it doesn’t work.
“Y/N?” Peggy asks.
You inhale sharply at the sound of her voice so close to you. She’d been texting Steve from near the window only moments before. You hadn’t thought that anyone would realize your distress, and you’d hoped to be able to collect yourself before it was noticeable. You hadn’t even sensed her coming closer.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you tell her, but your voice wavers and your lower lip quivers. You try to take another slow breath.
“What’s going on?” Marta asks. Her hand lands on your arm and you pull away, closing in yourself and pulling the bouquet tight against you.
Your mother’s scolding makes you feel like you’re a little kid again. “Careful, Y/N! You don’t want to ruin those flowers. We don’t have time to make another bouquet for you. George is already hounding your father about how soon after the ceremony you’ll be signing the certificate.”
Anger wells up in you at her thoughtless comment, and you open your eyes. She’s standing behind you in the main part of the bedroom, near the foot of your bed. Any guilt you might’ve felt over ruining the flowers is gone now, and you turn and chuck the bouquet at the carpet by her feet. It bounces once, then lays motionless in a heap of smashed petals and ribbons.
“Enough, Mother!” you shout.
Marta rushes to close the window so the guests in the garden won’t hear your outburst.
Your mother gapes at you, somewhat surprised, but she doesn’t budge. “Y/N, dear. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” you yell, stepping closer. Your dress swishes as you walk, and you normally enjoy the sound, but you’re too furious to care how pleasing it is. “What are you doing? I am your only daughter! You should be treating me like a princess and worrying about how I’m feeling and what I need, but instead you’re too busy thinking about the damn flowers! I’m sick of you thinking of me like I’m an object you can sell, steal, and trade away whenever it’s most convenient! You and Dad are so obsessed with the timeline you’ve created for yourselves that you don’t even notice how much this has affected me! You didn’t even ask if this is what I wanted!”
She scoffs at you, and any trace of motherly care and concern has disappeared from her expression. Your mother is showing her true face—the mafia wife that has almost as much blood on her own hands as her husband does, if not more.
“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” she asks. She picks up her clutch from the end of your bed and steps closer until you're standing eye to eye. Her voice is patronizing and infuriating, and she continues, “It’s your wedding day, dearest, and you can’t back out now. We’ve made sure of it. Even James has agreed to the contract.” 
Your anger wavers. “Contract?”
“Yes, the contract,” she repeats, smirking. Her cards are all on the table now, and she’s got a winning hand. You both know it.
There’s a malicious glint in her eye as she says, “It’s already in effect. It has been since we agreed on the marriage.”
“What contract? What are you talking about?” There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, like your heart has decided to drop into your stomach, then down to your feet and through the floor. Bucky hadn’t said anything to you about a contract, and you trusted him, but you certainly didn’t trust your parents anymore, nor did you trust George and Winnifred Barnes.
Your mother smiles, a sickeningly sweet smile that makes you want to puke. “That’s a conversation for another time. After all, it doesn’t even matter to you until James gets you pregnant.”
The alarm on your phone rings and you close your eyes, your hands trembling. You’d set that alarm to remind you when it was time to leave for the ceremony. Right on cue, the wedding planner knocks on the door to your bedroom.
“Y/N?” she calls, knocking again. “Are you ready?”
Slowly, you squat down and pick up the bouquet. It’s smashed on one side and the petals have fallen off of various flowers, but it’s mostly intact. It shakes as your hands tremble and tears well up in your eyes.
Marta appears in front of you, having pushed your mother out of the way, and over the ringing in your ears, you hear Peggy talking to the wedding planner. Somehow, you make it out to the ground floor of the estate, to the double doors that lead out to the rose garden. You’re dazed by your mother’s strange revelation. The sound of the alarm is still ringing in your ears. Peggy says something to you, but you can only stare straight ahead. 
Your father is next to you then, as Peggy disappears through the doors and joins the rest of the wedding party. You see her glancing back at you, and whispering to the rest of the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Most of them are Bucky’s friends who have now become your own, and all of them look worried. 
“Let’s go, princess,” your father says, and he pulls you forward by the arm.
Numbly, you follow his lead. Not even Bucky’s initially delighted expression shakes you out of your trance, but the way he rubs his thumb over your hands at the end of the aisle pulls you out of it just enough for you to lift your head and look around. You don’t remember walking to him, nor do you remember handing off your bouquet to Peggy, just like you’d practiced last night at the rehearsal.
“Y/N? Darling?” Bucky asks. He crouches and tilts his head slightly to try to catch your eyes. “You okay?”
“I—” Your mouth is still dry and you swallow, your eyes flitting from one place in the garden to another with no rhyme or reason. The world feels like it’s spinning and you clutch Bucky’s hands, unsure of what to do.
“Someone get her a chair,” Bucky orders, raising his voice enough that you flinch. He immediately starts murmuring reassurances to you, and he pulls you into his arms until he can lower you into a seat.
Someone fans you and a cool glass is pressed to your lips. You drink obediently, closing your eyes as the water helps the sandy feeling in your mouth abate just a little. When the water is gone, the glass is pulled away. 
“Y/N, can you hear me?” Bucky asks. 
Slowly, carefully, you nod your head. He sighs in relief and when you open your eyes, he’s kneeling down in front of you. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is creased with worry. You’ve never seen him this stressed over anything and it makes you want to cry.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, heat flaming in your cheeks. You feel horrible. Bucky has been looking forward to the ceremony—he’d told you last night at the rehearsal dinner.
“It’s okay,” he quickly replies. He reaches forward and takes your hands, and you glance away from him to peek at the guests, your parents included, who are still watching you from their seats.
“Are you ready for this, or do you need a break?” 
You look back at Bucky. “A break?”
“She’s fine,” your mother says, and you look over at her from your seat. She’s standing in the front row, her eyes fixated on the priest behind you. “They’re fine, Father. Y/N’s been a bit nervous all morning. Wedding day jitters, you know.”
“I—” You frown at her, still clutching Bucky’s hands. “That’s not what it is.” You look down at him and shake your head. “I’m not nervous to marry you.”
“I’m not nervous either,” he says with a small smile. 
“Then shall we continue?” the priest asks.
You turn to shake your head at him. “No. I’m sorry, Father. I need to talk to Bucky—James—in private for just a minute. Is that alright?”
He smiles gently and nods. “Of course.”
There are more agitated murmurs from the crowd, but you ignore them as Peggy, Steve, and Bucky help you up and back down the aisle. When your mother moves to follow you, she’s blocked by Sam and Clint, another one of Bucky’s friends. She calls after you once, but you ignore her as Peggy helps you onto a bench inside, then leaves, closing the double doors behind herself. She’s handed back your bouquet, and you clutch it with both hands like it’s an anchor in the storm.
“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks. He stands near the door, and you can tell from the way he rolls his shoulders that he’s stressed. His prosthetic always bothers him more when he’s agitated, and you suddenly feel even worse about stopping the ceremony.
“Yes,” you say, but then you shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not, or I wouldn’t have stopped everything. I’m sorry, Bucky, but I have to ask you something.”
“Okay…” There’s a wariness in his eyes, one that you loathe yourself for. You put it there, and you wish with all your might that your mother hadn’t told you what she did. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to do this.
“Did you sign a contract? With our parents?”
He frowns and his whole body grows very still. “A contract?”
You nod. “Yes.” With your hands still fisted tightly around the bouquet, you inhale deeply and add, “A contract about getting me pregnant.”
“What?” Bucky’s furious response is immediate. He shakes his head, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be making this up. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”
“Did you sign a contract agreeing to marry me, and agreeing that my parents get something after you get me pregnant?” The words make you sick to your stomach. You haven’t eaten anything all day, which doesn’t help, but the thought of Bucky agreeing to something so vile… It’s enough to make anyone nauseous.
He’s shaking his head at you again. “Why the hell would I sign anything like that? Do you really think I would do that?”
You shrug a little and look down at the bouquet. “My mother…”
“Darling…” Bucky sighs and comes closer, and he kneels down in front of you again, just like he had outside. All the fight and anger has left his voice. “I would never do anything like that. Not in a million years, and especially not to you. I love you.”
“She said you signed it before they’d even told me we were engaged,” you said, quiet now that he’s so close. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, to see what his face might be telling you that his words aren’t.
“Can you look at me? Please?”
Reluctantly, you lift your eyes from the flowers in your lap to meet Bucky’s eyes. They’re just as blue as the ribbons wrapped around the flower stems, a choice you’d specifically made without the wedding planner’s guidance. You’d wanted him to be your “something blue”, even if it felt a little cheesy.
“Do you want to marry me?” Bucky asks.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod. “Yes.”
“Do you believe me when I say I had nothing to do with that contract? That I didn’t know it existed?” he questions.
You nod again, tears forming in your eyes.
“And do you trust me to help you find a way to get rid of it, once all of this is over? Do you trust me to protect you?”
You nod for the third time, and Bucky takes both of your hands in his.
“Okay. Then let’s get married, and I swear to you that as soon as our honeymoon is over, the guys and I will start doing some digging.”
“What about me?” you ask, sniffling. You pull one of your hands away to dab at your eyes before the makeup can get too damaged by your tears.
“What about you?”
“Can I dig, too?”
Bucky chuckles and kisses your knuckles on the hand that he’s holding, and then he pulls himself up off the floor to sit beside you on the bench. He pulls you into a half-hug and you cling to him, sniffling and smiling as he rubs the your back and answers,
“You can do all the digging you want, doll. I’ll even hand you the shovel.”
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Tá sé go maith tú a fheiceáil. = It’s good to see you.
Mo bhean chéile = My wife
Íosa Críost = Jesus Christ
Thick = A stupid person
Ifreann = Hell
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Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.
I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.
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Forever: @aya-fay
Bucky Barnes: @lipstickandvibranium @valhalla-kristin @buckymcbuckbarnes
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months
Text
Cute In Your Uniform » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: DBF!Beefy Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky thinks Y/N looks cute in her new cheer uniform.
Warnings: Fluffy ending, Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of alcohol, secret relationship, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, Bucky’s dog tags and red henley, use of pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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You were embraced in a hug by your mom the second you walked through the door. You decided to visit your parents for the weekend.
“How are you, sweetie? Me and your dad haven’t seen you since the beginning of January.” Your mom says.
“I’m doing good.” You tell her. “The cheer team got new uniforms.” You say.
“Put it on! I want to see what it looks like!” She says with excitement.
You went upstairs to your bedroom and changed into your new cheer uniform. You looked in the mirror and ran your hands over it to smooth it out. You went back downstairs to show your mom.
“What do you think, mom?” You asked, giving your mom a little spin.
“I love it! You look so pretty in it! Go show your dad.” She says.
“Where is he?” You asked.
“Outside with Bucky.” She says.
Blush crept up on your cheeks. Let’s just say that you have a huge crush on your dad’s best friend.
“Hi dad!” You say, walking outside.
Your dad turned around, smiling when he seen you. He stood up and gave up a big hug, picking you up in the process, making you squeal.
“I can’t believe you’re home!” Steve putting you down. “Is this your new cheer uniform?” He asks.
“Yes. Do you like it?” You asked.
“I don’t like that it’s showing off a lot of skin, but you look beautiful in it.” He says.
On the other hand, Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You glanced at him to see him licking his lips.
“What do you think of my new cheer uniform, Mr. Barnes?” You asked.
“I think you look cute in your uniform, doll.” Bucky says, biting his lower lip and completely forgetting that Steve was right next to you.
“Stop staring at my daughter like that, jerk.” Steve says, glaring at his best friend.
“Sorry.” Bucky mumbles, taking a sip of his beer. “Your dad is right. It does show a lot of skin, but you do look beautiful in it.” He says.
“Thank you, Bucky.” You say, blushing uncontrollably.
“Sit down with us, sweetheart.” Steve says.
You sat down in a chair across from Bucky. Bucky reached in the cooler between him and Steve, handing you a beer.
“Bucky!” Steve scolds.
“What? She’s almost 23. She can have alcohol.” Bucky says, leaning back in his chair.
“He’s not wrong, dad.” You say, opening the beer and took a sip.
Steve playfully rolled his eyes at you and Bucky. You told your dad and Bucky about how you’re doing in your college classes and how well you’re doing in cheer.
“Steve, honey? We need to leave in a little bit if we’re going to make those reservations.” Your mom says to your dad.
“You guys are going on a date?” You asked.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you just got home, but we’ll spend the day together tomorrow. We can do whatever you want.” Steve says, kissing the top of your head.
“Ok. Have fun on your date.” You say, giving him and your mom a smile.
“You leaving, Buck?” He asks Bucky.
“I’m gonna stay. I don’t want Y/N to be alone her first night home in a while.” Bucky says, taking a sip of his beer.
“Ok. See you later.” He says, leaving.
You and Bucky were all over each other the second your parents left.
“I fucking missed this.” Bucky breathes.
“Me too.” You say against his lips.
You two pulled away from each other, looking deep in each other’s eyes. You stood up and walked to the door, motioning with your finger for him to follow you inside. Bucky was hot on your heels as he followed you to your bedroom. You closed and locked the door behind you. You grabbed the chain of Bucky’s dog tags and pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you against his body. His hands left your waist to roam your body, stopping on your ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, making you gasp.
“This uniform is making me go fucking crazy, babydoll.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“Now you know how I feel when you’re wearing these damn henleys.” You say, licking your lips and admired his muscular form in the red henley.
Bucky playfully spanked your ass before sitting down on your bed. You sat on his lap, straddling him. His bulge pressed against your pussy through your wet panties.
“Who knows…” You start, kissing his neck. “Maybe I’ll let you fuck me in it after a game.” Your teeth nipped on his skin, hard enough to mark him up. “I’ll be all hot and sweaty.” You whispered in his ear.
“Don’t fucking tease me, doll.” Bucky growls, smacking your ass. “Take this off before I rip it off.” He orders.
You kiss him once more before getting off his lap. You pulled your cheer top over your head and dropped it on the floor. You turned around and reached your hands behind you to unzip your cheer skirt. You pulled it down your legs, bending down in the process to give Bucky an amazing view of your ass. You turned back around and reached your hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor. You pulled your wet panties down your legs and playfully threw them at Bucky. He caught them and shoved them into the pocket of his jeans.
“It’s your turn to get naked, daddy.” You say.
You got on the bed as Bucky stood up. You watched as he took off his henley and dropped it on the floor. Your eyes fell upon the bulge in his boxers. You licked your lips at the sight of it.
“Is this what you want, doll face?” Bucky asks, referring to his cock.
“Mmm yes, daddy.” You hummed, biting your bottom lip.
Bucky took his boxers off. His cock hard and leaking with precum. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and pumped it as he got on the bed in between your spread legs.
“Tell me, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “You let any of those college boys touch what’s mine?” He asks.
“No, daddy. I’m yours.” You answered.
“That’s fucking right. You’re mine.” He says, almost growling.
Bucky rubbed his cock through your wetness. You moaned when his tip bumped your clit. He lined his cock at your tight entrance and slowly slid it inside of your pussy, inch by inch.
“Fuck…” Bucky groans. “It’s been a while since I fucked this tight pussy.” He says, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy.
Bucky gave you a moment to let you adjust to his size since it’s been a while since you two have had sex. He leaned down and kissed your lips sweetly. You gave him the ok to start thrusting. He pulled out almost all the way, only leaving his tip inside of you and then thrusted back inside of you in a fast thrust.
“I fucking missed you.” Bucky says, followed by a moan.
“I missed you more.” You moaned.
“Yea?” He breathes. “Tell me how much you missed me.” He says.
“I missed having your lips on mine.” You started. “I missed- oh fuck! I missed the way your body feels against mine. The way your tongue feels on my pussy and the way you fuck me.” You say and moaned.
“I missed all of that too, babydoll.” Bucky starts. “Especially the feeling of your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He says.
Bucky leaned down and kissed along your neck, his teeth biting down hard enough to mark you up. His stubble scratched against your skin in a way you love so much. You moaned when you felt the cool metal of his dog tags touch your hot skin. You spread your legs wider and arched your back in pleasure, your chest touching his. This created a new angle for Bucky. His cock was able to go deeper and hit your sweet spot at just the right angle.
“Oh daddy! Fuck yes!” You moaned.
Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in his skin and leaving red scratch marks.
“You know…” Bucky starts and moans. “The night you sent me that picture of you in your panties and my shirt…” He pauses to moan. “I was tempted to drive up there and go to your dorm and fuck you.” He says.
You remember that night quite well. You and Bucky were texting and you decided to tease him a little by sending him a picture of you in your panties and his shirt.
Bucky kissed his way up your neck and jaw, finally reaching your lips and kissing you sloppy. His tongue slid past your parted lips, exploring every part of your mouth. You placed one of your hands on the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers tugged at the long strands of his hair. Bucky’s metal hand found its way to your clit and began rubbing it in circles. Your pussy squeezed around his cock, making him moan.
“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” Bucky pants, leaning his forehead against your shoulder.
Bucky sat back on his knees and spread your legs more, watching as his cock disappeared inside of your pussy, covered in your wetness. He then put your legs over his shoulders and grasped onto the head and started thrusting harder, his dog tags dangling above your face.
“Look at that.” He breathes, glancing down at where the two of you are connected. “Taking my cock like the good girl I know you are.” He praises.
A moan left your lips when he called you a good girl.
“You like that, huh? You like being my good girl, don’t you, babydoll?” He asks.
“Mhmm yes!” You moaned. “I’m gonna cum!” You felt your orgasm building up. “Please let me cum.” You begged.
“Come for daddy, doll.” Bucky pants, rubbing your clit faster.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came, a loud moan left your lips. Bucky came inside of you soon after you came. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and laying down next to you.
“That was amazing.” Bucky says breathlessly.
“Yea.” You say in agreement.
You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest, your fingers playing with his dog tags.
“I hate keeping our relationship a secret.” You say.
“I know, doll. Me too.” Bucky says.
After a while, you and Bucky got dressed and went downstairs to watch a movie. Your parents came home soon after, making a beeline for their bedroom.
“You guys might want to turn the TV up.” Steve says as him and your mom went upstairs.
“Gross.” You mumbled, turning the TV up.
“Looks like they had a fun date night.” Bucky says, wrapping his arm around you and pulled you against his side.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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bratphilia · 7 months
Text
glass window (w. afton x reader)
request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"
note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age
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you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.
a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.
that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.
"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."
you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."
mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.
"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.
your dad turns to you. "how was class?"
"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."
his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.
steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.
he decides to make good use of his porch.
at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.
unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.
his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.
one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.
sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.
on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.
steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.
"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.
steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."
he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."
steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."
you look up at him. "what's that?"
he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."
"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.
"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"
you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"
"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."
he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control. 
steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you. 
slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now." 
you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.
"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on." 
you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core. 
steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy." 
you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly. 
"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.
"need it that bad, huh, baby?" 
"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him. 
"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile. 
he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.
you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.
he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.
he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.
"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.
you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.
he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."
the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.
he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.
"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."
"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.
"i will, honey, i will."
suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"
"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.
one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.
"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.
"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."
you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.
he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."
tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.
he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.
you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.
"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.
maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.
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urhoneycombwitch · 20 days
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On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)
kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE
cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)
canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.
but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.
(see more of my to-be-named world building here)
for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)
he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. 
bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort. 
he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.
and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡
and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.
there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”
and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”
and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”
and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”
and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.
but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real. 
he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all. 
and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.
and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.
he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with. 
and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.
perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.
but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and  lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors. 
in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖
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slasherbvnnie · 1 year
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Until We Found You
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Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!
Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+
You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.
It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.
That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.
“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.
“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.
After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.
You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.
You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.
“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.
The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.
You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.
Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.
You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 
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mrsbarnesblog · 7 months
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Bucky Barnes Masterlist
ko-fi ao3
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⭐️ - personal favorite
❤️‍🔥 - smut
🩷 - fluff
🖤 - angst
⭐️❤️‍🔥Jersey - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected. (3.2k)
⭐️❤️‍🔥Push Him - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR Manager! Reader
When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you. (6.8k.)
⭐️❤️‍🔥Stay quiet for me - Modern! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky fucks you while your parents sleep in the next room. (1.6k)
❤️‍🔥Little games - Gamer! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You really need to calm down, so you get under Bucky's table while he's playing with his friends. (1.4k)
🩷Sandcastles - CEO! Husband! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky is always working overtime, but when his best girls really need him, he leaves everything behind just to make you happy. (1.6k)
❤️‍🔥 New purchase - Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures. (2.3k)
⭐️❤️‍🔥 Firewood - Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help. (4.8k)
🩷 I can't let you get hurt - Brother's best friend! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend. (3.3k)
❤️‍🔥 Don't hide - Mechanic! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Somehow you ended up in a storage room with one of your dad's mechanics. (1.8k)
🩷 My everything - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before. (6.8k)
⭐️🩷Personal pillow - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You confront avengers when they start teasing Bucky about being too soft. (1.6k)
⭐️🩷 I trust you - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When Bucky comes back from a mission with a knife wound there is only one person who can convince him to get help. (3.5k)
⭐️🩷 You deserve the world - College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You were in a relationship with a man who had never truly cared about you, but after catching him cheating on you at a friend's party, you eventually decided to end things with him. The good news was that there was always someone who wasn't going to let you go through it alone. (4.6k)
🩷 Barbie - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky takes his best girl to watch a Barbie movie and then spoils her with gifts. (1.3k)
❤️‍🔥 Wakanda - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Reader
You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out. (2.7k)
Requests
We could've done it earlier - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When one of the new recruits started following you around and being too persistent, Bucky decided to help you by kissing you right in front of that guy. Though he didn't realize that he wouldn't be able to stop. (2.3k)
Night - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
You wandered around the Tower at night because you couldn't sleep. In the common room, you find Bucky sitting in the dark and decide to share an ice cream pint with him.
Snowman - Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Reader
When the first snow of the year had just covered the whole of New York City, you tried to convince Bucky to play outside with you. He couldn't find the power in himself to say no to you, even if it's his least favorite time of the year.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]
THE TIMELINE
"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."
- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs
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IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963
The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger. 
Except he wasn’t. 
Was he?
You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back. 
But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show. 
The very latter included the man in front of you. 
Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care. 
He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight. 
You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night. 
But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.
Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds. 
As if it were counting down to— something. 
It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green. 
But nothing wild, not yet. 
Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved. 
You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot. 
“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders. 
“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”
You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—
“Take it off, then.”
You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both. 
But now… now?
He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare. 
“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer. 
“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”
Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof. 
You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect. 
Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?
By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now. 
Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second. 
“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”
“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days. 
“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts. 
You froze. 
“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”
The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter. 
“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated. 
His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really. 
Like it was borrowed, or broken. 
You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had. 
“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”
You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did. 
Annoyed, tired, pretty. 
“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”
He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both. 
You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep. 
From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing. 
But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in. 
And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”
Steve’s other hand was on your waist. 
His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water. 
But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional. 
“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”
You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well. 
So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding. 
The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts. 
Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—
“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.” 
You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had. 
You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you. 
Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black. 
“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”  
You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting. 
Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before. 
Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time. 
Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart. 
“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”
He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream. 
His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts. 
The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid. 
The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud. 
Music like this. 
A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes. 
“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause. 
Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining  guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.
“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”
It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.
It was nothing short of scandalous. 
You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs. 
And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone. 
Thunder cracked again, louder than before. 
It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman. 
But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was. 
It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly. 
It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice. 
“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore. 
But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too. 
When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you. 
But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before. 
“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much. 
Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”
“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?” 
He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”
His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”
The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.
Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.
You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.
“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.
You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.
“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”
You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.
Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed. 
You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.
“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”
“Steve--”
“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”
You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right. 
Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.
Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”
Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration. 
“We can keep dancing.”
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louloulemons-posts · 2 months
Text
Metal Head Cuddles
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Word Count : 1.7k
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Warnings : not proofread, swears, shitty parents(reader), vecna stuff did happen, petnames, it’s just a load of fluff.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Meeting-hug :
Being Robins Buckleys cousin was great, moving in with her and her dad was also great. Your family wasn’t fantastic, but Robin and your uncle were.
“Are you sure it was okay for me to tag along? I could always go back and chill with Uncle Rich.”
“Come on Y/N, i know you wanna get out of it, but everyone will love you”.
“Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m 100% sure, now come on let’s go in.” You were at Robins friends, Steve, house, apparently they’d become best friends a couple years back.
Working at an ice cream shop together, you’d had a job of your own when you lived in Chicago, it had allowed you to move to Hawkins and not look back. An old music shop that was getting more and more popular by the day.
Harringtons house was nice, Robin said his parents had a good job, but weren’t around a lot. There was music and laughter as you walked into the house.
“Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” Robin linked your arms and you walked into the garden. “Buckley!” A voice called out as you left the house. “Harrington.”
A boy jogged up to you, floppy hair bouncing as he came. “Ah you must be Y/N, Robins said a lot about you. I’m Steve.”
“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave you a welcoming hug.
“I’ll get you guys a drink, beer?” he asked.
“Y/Ns driving,” Robin spoke.
“Lemonade?”
“Lemonades great thanks.”
“Come on let’s meet the others.” Your cousin waved over at some younger people. “Y/N, this is Dustin, Will, Mike, El, Lucas and Max.”
“It’s nice to meet you all.”
“Ahh so you’re Robins mystery cousin,” the curly haired boy said.
“The one and only,” you shrugged.
“It’s good to meet you anyways,” A red haired girl spoke, her eyes were glazed and you spotted a white cane, along with the hold she had on the boys arm beside her.
“And you guys.”
“Come on let’s meet the lovebirds.” Robin led you away to two teens who looked your age. “This is Nancy and Jonathan, guys this is my cousin Y/N.”
“Hey it’s great to meet you,” the girl spoke, standing to give you a squeeze.
“And you.”
“Where’s Munson?” Robin asked.
“Late as always,” Jonathan joked. On that note loud metal music was heard. “Speak of the devil,” Jonathan chuckled.
A few moments later a man with unruly hair came wandering in, his footsteps heavy and loud. He wore a large grin, dancing across his mouth as he took the younger curly haired boy hugged him.
The hug of a brother, Steve walked past, handing him a beer like it was a breath. He made his way over to us, handing me a cup full of lemonade and Robin her own bottle of booze.
“You been introduced to everyone?” Steve asked. “Pretty much, just not,” I motioned over to the man who was not letting out a cackle.
“Oh, hang on,” Steve paused for a second, because calling out the man’s name, “Eddie, come here man.” You heard him mutter something like, ‘Oh no already in trouble,’ to the younger kids, making them laugh.
He jogged over to us, taking a swig of his drink. “Hey guys,” he smiled, taking in everyone’s face when he finally landed on mine. His chocolate eyes met my gaze.
“Eddie this is Y/N, Robins cousin from Chicago,” Steve explained.
“Oh cool, nice to meet you,” he said, pulling you into a half hug.
You hand landed on his lower back in greeting as his kept his, respectfully on the middle of yours. “And you, Robins told me all about you guys,” I said to the group.
“Oh no, what’s she said?” Steve groaned.
“Nothing that isn’t true Dingus.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Random-Encounter Hug :
Pushing the cart through the aisle, I grabbed a couple veggies here and there, planning on making, yet another, thank you meal for Robin and my uncle.
After placing the tomato’s and peppers in the cart I looked back up, spotting a newly familiar figure. Grabbing the last few things I needed from this section I sped up, “Hey Eddie.”
The boy whirled round to look at me, “Y/N, hey, how are you?” He asked, instantly pulling me into a large hug, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“I’m good, just getting bits and pieces.”
“Same here, I’m want to make my uncle a nice meal for his birthday, but don’t tell anyone,” he leant down so he was closer to your ear, “I can’t really cook.”
Letting out a laugh, I smiled at the boy, “If you want I can help you?”
“You cook?”
“I do indeed, give me your number and we can figure out a recipe, go through everything step by step.”
“Really?”
“Sure, what does he like to eat?”
“Anything we eat out of cans a lot.”
“Does he like steak?”
“Sure.”
I motioned for him to follow me, pushing the cart and coming to a halt by the steaks and other various meat. Getting a small, cheap, but still a beautiful cut, I handed it to Eddie.
“Does he like mash potatoes?”
“Yeah.” I quickly grabbed some of them, and then some green beans. Eddie pulled a face at that, “Does he not like them?
“Oh he loves them, I do not,” his face scrunched.
“They’re not that bad I promise, cook them
in butter and seasoning.” The boy hummed, instantly trusting your words.
He stayed to help you with your own shopping, helping you take the bags to your car, holding his own. “Thank you for the help,” he said, “It was nice to see you again.”
“And you. Remember call me when you’re cooking, I’ll talk you through it all.” The boy gave you a smile, and pulled you into a sweet hug. Arms enclosing around your body, holding you close.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Exhaustion Hug :
You’d gone out for the day with Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan and Eddie. Not sleeping well the night before after a screaming phone call from your mother, you were so tired.
“You okay?” Robin whispered.
“Oh yeah, just a bit sleepy. I’ll be fine.” You’d be on a long walk, wondering around shops, just having fun doing what people would consider mundane.
Eddie walked in front chatting away with Steve, Robin jumped into conversation with them, whilst Jonathan and Nancy led the group hand in hand.
Staying a few steps behind, you rubbed your eyes again. Not realising the group had stopped you bumped into Eddies back. “Shit sorry Eds.”
Turning to look at you, he smiled softly at your sleepy state. “It’s okay, you good?”
“Yeah just tired.” He nodded, humming, “Well we can’t have that can we.”
He turned back around and got low, “Hop on,” he said simply.
“What?”
“Get on my back.”
“Eddie no-“
“Y/N,” he said turning his face to you, “Please.” Well you couldn’t say no to that.
Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, Eddie stood, holding underneath your thighs. “Comfy?”
“Mhm.” My face rested on his shoulder.
“Come on then, let go,” he walked with ease, as if he wasn’t carrying an extra weight. I felt so comfortable there, with him holding me, that my face nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Anything for you.”
“Oh he’s so into her,” Steve said, watching the boy carry the sleepy girl. “Him into her? You don’t understand how much she talks about him. I swear Eddie coming today is the only reason she’s here,” Robin laughed.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Recharging Cuddles :
You don’t really know how it happened, but it was natural as anything. You and Eddie started dating, much to his Uncle Wayne’s joy.
Stood in the small kitchen in their new trailer, you were cooking a breakfast for Eddie and yourself, Wayne had already headed out for the day.
Feeling arms come around your waist and a face nuzzle into your neck, his curls tickled in their sleepy state. “Where did you go?” He said, voice laced with sleep.
“Making us breakfast Eds.”
“You weren’t there when I woke up.”
“Sorry baby, I just wanted to make you something.”
“You’re too sweet,” he spoke, placing a sweet kiss under your ear. “It’s almost ready, why don’t you sit at the table?”
He whined, “Wanna stay with you.”
“Okay sleepy boy,” With a free hand you rubbed his own that connected around your waist.
“Thank you.”
“Never have to thank me baby.” The boy remained attached to you the rest of the time you cooked, sliding you onto his lap as you ate.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Reunion hugs :
It had been two whole weeks since you’d seen Eddie, yourself, Robin and your uncle had been on vacation. Not even thinking about unpacking you jumped in your car and drove over to Eddies.
The trailer park was hit with sun, bright days becoming more common, the people of Hawkins soaking in the rays.
That was including your favourite boy, of course wearing jeans, black and ripped and a tank top. Some of his scars were on display but the large ones that covered his torso were hidden by the material.
Parking up, you climbed out of the car with ease. “Hey you,” you called as you walked over to him. “Oh my god”, he laughed, pushing off the stairs of the trailer and running to you.
Without a second thought your feet were off the ground, arms around his neck, he lifted you up and held you close. “I missed you so fucking much.” Hands going to his hair, you giggled, “I missed you too baby.”
“Never go away again,” he mumbled into your neck.
“Where’s my hug miss?” you heard another voice speak. “Wayne,” I smiled Eddie let me hop down from his hold and walk over to the older man. He took he in his arms and gave me a squeeze.
“Thank goodness you’re back, I couldn’t deal with anymore moping from this boy,” he motioned to Eddie. “Wayne,” he whined, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest.
“But seriously never leave me again.”
“Don’t plan on it.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you tighter.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
A/N : well hello it’s been a while, life’s been kinda crazy lately, so writings been the last thing on my mind. Hopefully I’ll be back to it soon, but I’m not gonna push myself, hope you guys understand.
All the love 🤍
- Lou
493 notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 1 month
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Weightless
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus-size fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky and yn date and his dad’s nasty to her because of her weight (as always, I’m amazing at summaries.)
Word count: 4,707
Warnings: angst. Bucky’s parents being the worst. Bucky being the best. swearing. insecure reader. modern au. being mocked for having a poor background. mentions of cheating (not bucky or reader) ends in fluff
A/N: remember every body is perfect!
Masterlist
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Waking up in the warm embrace of Bucky’s arms, he’s warm breath fanning lightly over her neck tickling her ever so slightly. Trying to shift out of his hold causing him to tighten his muscly arms around her.
“Buck I need to go toilet” she whispered.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“You’re warm” is all he says as he pulls her body even closer to his.
“But Buck I really need to wee, I’ll be right back” promising in hopes that he’d let go of her.
“Okay, promise you’d be right back?”
“Promise”
“Gimme a kiss first”
Turning in the arms of her boyfriends she give him a kiss he released her, getting out of the bed she couldn’t stop the small smile from forming watching as he pouted and made grabby hands at her.
Finishing off in the bathroom Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man-child in the bed who was still pouting at her.
“Hurry, I’ve already forgotten what you feel like”
“Dramatic much?”
“Nope” he smirked.
Climbing back into the bed Bucky wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest than before.
“You definitely coming tonight, right?”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Buck”
“Why isn’t it? Me and you all dressed up, free food and booze, dancing, we even have to sneak off to find a bathroom-“
“Have to?”
“Oh it’s a must baby, I’d probably die if we don’t” he says grinning.
“Idiot”
“Plus I know you already have a dress, Nat told me so…”
It’s true Y/n did have a dress already, Nat and Wanda had dragged her shopping with them both in search of a new dress for Bucky’s parents anniversary party. Wanda had actually picked it out for her and at first she was a bit apprehensive until Wanda squeezed her hand with hers and telling her that the dress was in her size.
The girls all but forced her into the changing room with encouraging words and smiles. Y/n had to admit Wanda did pick out a stunning dress for her to try on and when she stood there finally finding the courage to look at herself in the mirror a small smile made its way on to her lips. The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly; not too baggy, not too tight, even her arms looked alright in the dress.
When she stepped outside to where the girls were waiting their jaws practically fell off. Both telling her that the dress was made for her, making her roll her eyes at the pair. A woman had walked by and complimented Y/n which made her blush and smile shyly at her.
However there was a problem with attending the anniversary party with Bucky. Problem being that she hadn’t been given an invite.
Everyone received a formal invitation with no mention of a plus one, Bucky and his sister had even received a card. Nat and her boyfriend Bruce received individual cards, Wanda and her boyfriend had individual cards, same with Steve and his wife Peggy.
But not her.
And at first she thought it was okay as her and Bucky had only been dating for two years but when Wanda told her that Vis had been invited after them only dating for a few months, it hurt. Y/n wasn’t stupid to the knowledge that her boyfriend’s parents didn’t like her, they made that very clear from the moment she had met them, with the questions and judgemental stares, the remarks about the difference between herself and Bucky’s ex Dot was enough to tell her that they did not like or approve of her or her relationship with their only son.
Winifred tolerated Y/n purely for her sons sake, she made the mistake once of calling her Winnie just as everyone else did and she looked at her in absolute disgust and told her not to call her that, that only family and friends can call her by that name. 
George made comments about her weight from the beginning. His favourite pass time was to repeatedly remind her of how Dot was perfect for Bucky, he once told her that all she was to Bucky was something to pass the time with until Dot came back, and sadly she agreed with his statement.
Bucky bless his heart didn’t know any of this and genuinely believed that his parents liked his girlfriend.
Since she hadn’t been invited the plan was to make out to Bucky that she was ill right at the last minute, so all she had to do was play along for a few more hours.
“The dress is beautiful I have to admit”
“Just like you. Do you want to get dressed here so we can leave together?”
“Oh um my dress is at my apartment, so you can pick me up for there”
“Or I can come to yours and get dressed?”
Shit.
“My apartments a complete mess” she lied.
“And? Baby we’ll go to yours in a few hours have a shower, get dressed ooh can I braid your hair? I love doing it! And we can leave together, that way I don’t have to be away from you for long and I’ll save money for petrol”
Double shit.
There was no way of being able to back out of this now, she knew that she’d have to go to a party that she wasn’t invited too and hope to a higher power that neither one of his parents say anything.
“Okay”
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Bucky happily braided her hair after carefully brushing the knots out. He started to learn how to do it after a couple of months into their relationship and now he was a pro.
“All done baby” he says pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“Thank you Buck”
“Okay, okay go put on your dress, I’m dying to see it”
The smile was no longer present as she looked in the mirror, the dress was no longer perfect, it was tight around her stomach and her arms looked like tree trunks. She looked ridiculous and felt like it.
Tonight was going to be humiliating, she was going to embarrass Bucky in front of his family, his friends and strangers.
“Baby? You nearly done?”
“I-“
“Babe? Is everything alright?”
“I need you to close your eyes for me Bucky”
“Ooh I like this, okay my eyes are closed my love”
Slowly opening the door her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky standing there in his black suit, hair done perfectly and his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips.
“Baby, can I open my eyes now?”
“N-no. No please don’t”
“Y/n? Sweet girl what’s wrong?“
“N-nothing Bucky. I-um-I just remembered-“
“Fuck. Baby you… you’re stunning!”
“What?”
He moved closer to his girlfriend, eyes full of adoration and a hint of lust. “You’re so beautiful, and this dress is so gorgeous on you. I’m so lucky to have you by my side”
Bucky always knew how to make her feel beautiful and confident even in her darkest of moments when the voices in the back of her head get to loud for her to ignore, in the two years of their relationship there’s only ever been two occasions where she didn’t believe him. The first being when the two had sex for the first time and he kept the light on, she had told him he could turn the light off so he was more comfortable, his face contorted in confusion and he reassured her that he wanted to see her as he made love to her, the whole time he spoke words of love and affection. She honestly believed he was lying so he could get what he wanted from her. 
And the second time was right now. Standing here in front of him as his eyes moved up and down slowly over her body, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, speaking the words that he spoke daily to her, she just couldn’t help but think that he was lying again.
“Buck, I-I look ridiculous. I think you should just leave an-and tell Nat and Wanda that I fell ill, okay?”
“What are you talking about baby? You look perf-“
“It’s too tight, and look at my arms James. It fit perfectly in the store… I-I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to embarrass you okay? So you go and have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”
“It’s not tight. Your arms are perfect. Nothings happened baby okay. You could never ever embarrass me, hell even if you wore a bin bag I’d still be so proud to call you mine. Sweet girl if you don’t want to go, that’s fine we can stay here and watch films but I’m not going anywhere without you”
“Its your parents anniversary party Buck you have to go, I’ll be fine I promise”
“So? I’m not going without you doll”
That went on for nearly 30 minutes.
“Okay. I’ll go with you but I’m chang-“
“Nope, you’re staying in that dress beautiful girl. Now get your shoes on so we can leave”
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At the venue where the party was being held she couldn’t stop fiddling with her fingers and when her eyes saw a man at the door taking names her stomach dropped.
“Names”
“James Barnes and Y/n L/n”
The man looked up at Bucky and smiled letting him through, Bucky held her hand to lead her in when the man’s rough voice stopped the both.
“Excuse me Miss but you’re not on the list.”
“What do you mean she’s not on the list?”
“There’s no Y/n L/n on here sir”
“There’s got to be a mistake.” Bucky frowned, eyes shifting from her to the man.
“No mistake, I’m afraid sir”
“But she’s my girlfr-“
“Buck, it’s okay I’ll just head home. Enjoy your night” Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she pulled her hand away, trying desperately to ignore the stares and mumbles from people around.
“Baby, Y/n hold on a second”
“Bucky it’s fine honestly”
“I’ll ring my dad and see-“
“No babe it’s okay really-“
“Y/n-“
“James, about time you showed up” George’s loud voice interrupted Bucky.
“Dad Y/n’s not on the list for some reason?”
“Oh? That’s strange, anyway come on son your mother wants to see you”
“But dad my girlfriend…”
“Oh fine, she can come in too. Now come”
Bucky’s eyes found hers and she tried so hard to get him to see that she didn’t want to do this but all he did was grab a hold of her hand and followed his father.
Despite how large the room was the air was stuffy, it felt like there was hardly any room for people to move around. Overcrowded and her very own personal hell is the best way to describe the hall.
The lingering looks from those around made Y/n self-consciously pull on the dress, she even tried to breathe in as long as she could.
“Son your mother wants to see you, on your own if you don’t mind” George says the last part to Y/n, nodding and sliding her hand out of Bucky’s she smiled at him - well at least she thought it was a smile it was more like a grimace.
“I’ll be right back okay, Nat and Wanda are over there” pointing over to where the two redheads were her eyes followed.
“I’ll see you soon”
Bucky takes his leave and so does she before George’s hand stops her.
“I want to talk to you” not giving Y/n a chance to reply he all but drags her off and away from the sea of bodies.
“What are you doing here? You wasn’t invited”
“B-Bucky made me come” George raises a thick eyebrow and she quickly notice she mistake “Sir”.
“You look horrendous. There was a reason for why my wife and I didn’t invite a disgusting, fat nobody like yourself, want to know why?”
“W-why sir?”
“Our soon to be daughter in law is here and to be truthful my wife and I can’t be doing with your dramatics, again.”
Again. Y/n knew he was talking about the time Bucky had made her jump causing the glass to fall from her hand and shatter on the floor of the kitchen floor. The apologies that slipped out of her mouth none stop as Bucky assured her that it was okay and he’d clean it up, Winifred hissed “your useless”, she tried to pry the dust pan and brush away from Bucky’s hands so she could clean up the glass but all he did was move her away with a smile on his face.
The glares that were given to her by his parents, aunt and uncle made the tears well up and annoyingly slip out. Y/n felt so bad for breaking a glass that didn’t belong to her and even worse as Bucky was the one cleaning it up.
She didn’t dare tell him that she had a shard of glass stuck in her foot.
“I-I-“
“What does he see in you huh? Must be a decent fuck, that’s the only reason we can see him being with you” he taunted, never in the nearly two years she have been unfortunate enough to know him has he ever spoken to her like this.
“It’s embarrassing that you came to a party that you was not invited too. Did you come to see how the rich live? Your parents too poor to keep a roof over the heads for the gaggle of children your mother shot out of her cunt.” Her nose flared at the way he spoke about her mum, normally she would have defended her but George had managed to render her speechless.
“Listen child this so called relationship between yourself and my son doesn’t make sense, he needs a real woman by his side not someone who is clearly trying to be something it clearly isn’t.” His hand reached out to grab her stomach and pulled, flinching as it happened she tried to pull away. “Dolores and James will get back together, they will get married. Matter of fact he’ll be proposing tonight and my beautiful Winnie and I will be happy to have her as our daughter in law. How about you run along back to the hole you crawled out of”
The small patch of her stomach was still in his hand, she knew that a bruise was already forming, he shoved her backwards.
“Go or I’ll call security.”
Stumbling backwards she turned the corner just to see Bucky standing with Nat, Wanda, Steve and Sam. And Dot. Her arm wrapped around Bucky’s as she clings on to him.
Was the pain there because of the realisation that she never stood a chance of being good enough for someone who proclaimed their love for her at every opportunity they had?
Or was it because of how happy he looked?
Or maybe it was because Dot looked up and locked eyes with hers and smirked.
Either way her heart ached painfully in her chest.
Sticking close to the walls Y/n kept her head down so she wasn’t seen by her now ex-boyfriend and his friends and so that the other party guests wouldn’t see the stream of tears flow down her reddened cheeks.
The exit was just in reach when her name was called.
“Y/n-sweetheart what is wrong?” Peggy asked worriedly.
“I-I-…I don’t feel so good. Bye Peggy”
“Y/n where’s Bucky? He shou-“
“Don’t, don’t tell him I’ve gone okay. It won’t matter anyway, thank you Peggy for being my friend for the pa-past two years”
Y/n sees how her eyebrows flick in confusion but before the British brunette can respond she rushes out through the doors she had come through not that long ago.
The slow drum of her heart feeling heavier with each step she took, the laughter and cheers mocking her pain fading in the background as the tears rolled down and off her cheeks.
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“Hey ma” greeting her with a kiss to her cheek Winnie’s face lit up seeing her son.
“Oh Bucky you’ve arrived. Guess who’s here too!”
“A lot of people” Bucky chuckled.
“Dottie’s here” she beamed up at him.
“What? Why is she here?”
“She’s family Buck, stop being rude”
“Did you know that Y/n wasn’t on the guest list?”
“Who?”
The frown Bucky wore deepened, she’s met his girlfriend on numerous occasions. “My girlfriend ma-“
“Oh her, I thought she was your friend”
“Are you joking me right now? She my girlf-“
He’s cut off by a high pitched voice that he hadn’t heard in four years, the voice he had no idea how he put up with for a year. The same whinny voice belonging to the woman he was in love with until she broke up with him out of the blue and then a few days later she was dating the guy who spent year’s tormenting him. Brock.
“Bucky! It’s been so long”
“Hi” he mumbles making sure Winnie notices his death stare.
“How have you been?” Dot goes in to give Bucky a hug, frowning as he takes a step back.
“Fine thanks, ma I’m going to find Y/n I’ll see you in a bit”
“Who’s that?” Dot asks.
“His friend Dottie”
“She’s my girlfriend. Has been for the past two years-“
“Oh…that’s around the time I broke up with Brock, he wasn’t worth my time”
That’s not exactly what happened. Yes she broke up with him but it wasn’t because he wasn’t worth her time but because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend.
He remembers the day he received multiple missed calls, he sat in his car staring at the text message from Dot telling him what had happened and how she had messed up and that she wanted him back. Bucky sat and read the message over and over again he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
Laugh at the fact she had gotten karma, he had a nagging feeling that she had cheated on him with Brock so he thought it was fitting that she had to go through that.
Cry because she had messaged him about her life problems on the day he had his first date with Y/n. It had been two years since Dot had ruined him, two years on and he was still affected by what she had done. Then he met Y/n, he finally gained the courage to ask her out when she said yes he played cool but internally he was screaming.
The day his ex was having the worst day of her life as she put it, he was having the best day of his.
“I need to find Y/n”
“I’ll come with you, I want to meet the girl who’s been holding my place”
Before Bucky had time to respond Dot had wrapped her arm around his and dragged him off.
“Oh guys it’s been so long since I last saw you” Dot squealed as she got closer to Bucky’s friends who were huddled around together.
“What is she doing here Buck?” Nat asked with her arms crossed, Bucky felt like she was staring into his soul with how intense Nat was looking at him.
“I’m his date silly!” The friendship group all snapped their heads towards Bucky whilst his went to Dot.
“Let go of me. I’m not playing Dolores”
“Nope, it’s meant to be me and you James just like we always talked about”
“You’re insane aren’t you? He has a girlfriend who’s a thousand times better than you” Wanda spoke before Bucky could. Wanda never did shy away from making her hatred known for Dot.
“I heard she’s fat.” Dot sneered.
Now it was Natasha’s turn to jump in before Bucky or Wanda could defend Y/n “she isn’t and even if she was it doesn’t matter. Like Wanda said she’s a thousand times better than you-“
Bucky didn’t stop the smile from forming as his friends defended the girl he was in love with, the one who he knew was his everything. The one he brought a ring for with Peggy by his side, the ring sat in his sock draw waiting for their third year anniversary so he could get down on one knee. At first he thought it was a bit too soon but like Peggy reminded him, Steve proposed after only six months and they’d been happily married for nearly five years now.
Bucky is lost in his own little world drowning out his friends who each take it in turns to berate Dot, he’s oblivious to his surroundings and is completely unaware that Y/n sees him with Dot still on his arm, nor does he notice the smirk on Dot’s lips as she makes eye contact with Y/n.
The bubble pops as his father takes the microphone, the hall goes quiet as his father moves closer to his mother. His blue eyes bounced all around the grand hall in search for Y/n, as he does so he tries to shake off Dot.
“-my wife and Is 25th anniversary, truly has and always will be the love of my life-“
George’s voice filters in and out as Bucky starts to worry even more about where Y/n was, he sees Peggy pushing by people in a haste.
“Bucky, it’s Y/n… she’s left and she was crying. I tried to stop her, she thanked me for being her friend for the past two years. What’s going on?” Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Dot and how close she is to Bucky.
“W-when?”
“A few minutes ago.”
Bucky pushes Dot away and makes his way through the crowd, not apologising when he bumps into those in his way.
He gets to the double doors that lead to the hallway, he’s so close he could feel the cold air, when George’s voice that’s amplified by the microphone stops him.
“I want to welcome my son James and his darling fiancée Dolores up on the stage”
Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to face his father with a puzzled look, George’s lips turn into a smirk.
The crowd cheers and claps unaware or unfazed by Bucky’s reaction. He sees Dot moving towards George with a beaming smile, he also sees the glares and confused looks from his friends.
“Come on son, don’t keep you beautiful fiancée waiting” George says through gritted teeth.
Bucky’s feet lead him before his brain can catch up.
He’s halfway through the crowd, ignoring his friends shouting at him in the background Bucky holds his head up even if heart is beating violently. He has to do this, he can’t fail himself or Y/n.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about father. I’m not going to marry Dot, Y/n is my-“
“Say girlfriend I dare you” George growls.
“She is my girlfriend Father”
“She’s a fat nobody who’s only using you for your money, stop playing around and get up here”
Bucky flinches at George’s words, he knows it isn’t true Y/n never lets him spend his money on her. The only time he gets to spoil her is on her birthday or on Christmas. Not once has he ever thought of Y/n being fat, if he’s being honest he’s never noticed her weight to him she’s the definition of perfect.
He knows one day in the future he will regret the heartache he’s about to put his mother through but right now he doesn’t care. Turning his head in his mothers’ direction he sees the smirk she wearing, maybe he won’t regret this. He takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.
“Did you know his secretary he sacked two years ago is his mistress? She’s pregnant, and oh she’s standing just over there”
Though he feels slightly guilty at his mothers’ fallen face and at the tears already gathering in her eyes, he doesn’t stop himself from smiling when his father stands there on the stage in front of everyone he knows spluttering out incoherent words, George’s eyes bounce from Winnie to his mistress who’s trying to blend into the wall, trying hard to get away from the judgemental stares from those there.
“Oh and no I won’t be marrying Dot, congratulations on your 25th anniversary father.” And with that he leaves to find Y/n, laughing at his friends who all cheer at the scene he just caused.
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“Baby I know you’re in there, please open up” He knocks for the umpteenth time.
Hearing the familiar clicking of the locks he’s greeted by a red eyes, tear stained cheeks of his love.
And a box.
“T-these are you’re things”
“No baby please let me in, I need to talk to you”
“There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, congratulations on your engagement I-I hope you have a wonderful life”
“I haven’t proposed yet-“
“Oh, okay break up with me then”
“I haven’t proposed yet... to you” he breathes out.
“W-what?”
“Can I come in and explain? Please”
Nodding Y/n opens the door wider for him to enter, Bucky removes the box from her hands replacing his in them instead he leads her to the couch. Wiping the freshly falling tears he tells her what had happened from Peggy telling him that she had left, to his father, right to him outing his father’s affair.
“Bucky!” she scolded; she was there with Bucky when he caught his father having sex with his 22 year old sectary. She tried to convince him that he should tell his mum, held him as he cried after he got himself worked up with all the emotions.
“What? They both had it coming, I also told her that the mistress is pregnant and pointed over to where she stood” he smiles “baby I had no idea what they was doing I swear-wait how did you know about the engagement?”
“Oh… your father told me-“ It was then Y/n’s turn to tell him everything that has happened over the nearly two years of her knowing his parents.
“Ba-baby I-I didn’t know, I’m so sorry” he chokes out, his throat swells up due to him trying not to cry. The guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks when he remembers all the times he dragged her with him to his parents house, or how it took her to tell him everything for things to make sense like how she always shut down for a few days after they spent time with his parents or how she would never eat in front of them, so many things made sense and the guilt was swallowing him whole.
“It’s oka-“
“No its not Y/n, I should of realised and baby I’m so fucking sorry”
“Ma-maybe if you go back and apologise to them they won’t be to mad, maybe they’ll understand and-and you and Dot can still get engaged” she hesitantly says even though it broke her heart.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your fathers right Buck, I’m not good enough for yo-“
“Shut up. Y/n I swear to god don’t say that ever again! Please don’t ever think that you’re not good or enough for me because I can promise you right here, right now that you are and always will be baby”
Before Y/n can respond a knock sounding from the door makes both jump, Bucky goes to open it instantly smiling as their friends all stand there, Sam and Wanda hold up pizza boxes with wide grins on their faces, letting everyone in Steve waits behind.
“Buck, here” the blonde whispers, holding the small box out that he instantly recognises.
“H-how?”
“I’ve got a spare key remember, I really don’t think you should wait Buck.”
“Thanks punk”
“You’re welcome jerk”
Watching from the doorway as his friends make themselves at home and seeing a genuine smile grace Y/n’s beautiful face as she stared back at him.
“I love you” he mouths.
Every time he says them words, he means them with his whole heart his entire begin.
He closes the door behind as his walks towards his future.
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
488 notes · View notes
french-goodbye · 8 months
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To Be Alone With You
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Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: Steve’s parents are never home, until they are. You learn to deal with it.
Warnings: Kissing; fingering; oral (m receiving). MINORS DNI, 18+.
Notes: This all started because I kept thinking about giving Steve head. That’s it, that was my motivation. Part of the same universe as In The Low Lamplight, but can be read as a stand alone. Also title from the Hozier song To Be Alone. MINORS DNI, 18+.
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Steve’s parents are not really nice people. It’s a fact of life, kinda like how the sky is blue or the trees are green, it’s something Steve himself has come to slowly accept over time and that he’s learned he’ll never be able to change.
One of the few good things about Steve’s parents, however, is how often they travel. Especially considering Steve’s dad is a husband who can’t be trusted not to cheat on his wife, Mrs. Harrington just accompanies him everywhere. Which basically leaves Steve with a huge house all to himself and no one to reinforce the “no sleeping over rule”.
The “no sleeping over” rule was established early on in your relationship with Steve, his dad dictating that you can’t sleep over at their house, ever. Apparently he’s afraid you’ll get pregnant as if you 1) aren’t on the pill; 2) can’t fuck his son literally anywhere else, any other time of the day. Alas, you both obey the rule - at least when Steve’s parents are around.
Despite the Harrington household rule, you have gotten pretty used to breaking it and regularly stay over at their house. Some of it has to do with how obsessed you are with your boyfriend, but also with how much Steve hated it, coming home to an empty house and cooking a meal for one, only to wake up to a silent house and do it all over again, until he met you. So now, instead of coming home to a ghost house, he comes home to find you sitting pretty on his couch as you wait for him or you in the kitchen badly singing along to the songs in the radio or you haunting his bedroom even when he isn’t there.
Sometimes though, out of sheer (bad) luck, his parents will come home to stay for a while, no trips in sight. They usually only stay in Hawkins for a week before they travel again, but this time it goes on for what seems like a long time. Forget about his parents’ nagging, Steve can handle that, has handled that his whole life, what Steve can’t handle is not being around you for that long.
Of course he’s seen you since his parents got home, you went on a movie date ast Saturday, you visited him at Family Video on Monday and the two of you even snuck in some alone time on Tuesday night near Lover’s Lake in his car. So it’s not that he misses you per se, it’s that he’s so used to being in your orbit that he just misses being around you. He misses the shared showers and the cooking together and the falling asleep together. He misses the domesticity of it, of knowing that even when he’s not home, you’re still in his space.
All that being said, he manages to get by just getting glimpses of you in the meantime. Sometimes he’ll give you a ride to and from work, or you’ll sneak to Family video so you can have lunch together and he cherishes these moment like a man starved, like he haven’t been waking up and falling asleep next to you every day and night,
He’s getting through it until he realizes it’s been a whole month since his parents got home and they have absolutely no plans of leaving. That’s when he gives up on trying to at least pretend to follow his dad’s stupid rules and sneaks you in through the back door after his parents go to sleep. He’ll sneak you outside again the next morning and pretend you’ve just arrived or something, it’s not like his parents are that attentive or concerned about what he does.
You’re both giggling like teenagers by the time you slip into his bedroom, unnoticed. He’s barely locked the door behind himself and you’re all over him, pushing him into bed and climbing on top of him to kiss him silly.
“God, I’ve missed you” he says when you finally pull away, his lips red and spit wet. You start pressing kisses to his neck, like a girl starved, your hand tugging his hair to tilt his head to the right to grant you more access.
“Missed you too” you mumble against the skin of his neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there and sucking a pretty little mark at the spot where his neck meets his shoulders, next to one of his many freckles.
Your hands start to wander then, letting go of his hair to sneak down his chest and lower and lower. You’re about to slip your hand into his sweatpants when he stops you, his hand tangling with yours midway there.
“Come on, Stevie. Do you not want this?” You pull away until you’re sitting up, still straddling his hips and watching his mussed hair and red lips, a familiar heat climbing up your stomach at the sight.
“It’s not that I don’t want it” he explains, making his hair more of a mess when he runs his fingers through it.
“Then what is it?”
“My parents are totally gonna hear us”
“Their room is on the other side of the house, there’s no way they can hear us”
“I don’t think you realize how loud you can be” you huff on top of him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Are you serious? Why did you sneak me in then?”
“I told you… I missed my girl” he says softly, his sweetness chipping away at your annoyance over not getting laid. Just a little bit.
“You’re too sweet on me” you laugh happily, cradling his face in your hands. You lean down again and he pulls you closer by the waist to kiss you, kiss you, kiss you until you’re lost on the feeling of it again, his tongue in your mouth and his fingers in your hair and his half hard cock rubbing against you through your jeans. You’re moving before you can stop yourself, slowly grinding your hips against his when he stops you again, digging his fingers on your waist through the fabric of your top.
“Babe…”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry” you drop your head dramatically against his chest, shaking slightly on top of him when he laughs underneath you and hides his face on your neck. You can feel the warmth on his cheeks as he hugs you tightly to his chest and you gently card your fingers through his hair.
“Fine” you sigh, gently pushing him away and getting up and away from him.
“Where are you going?” He asks with a frown as you start digging through his drawers until you find one of his t-shirts you can put on.
“I’m changing” you answer as you pull off your own top and jeans. His eyes travel the length of your torso to your legs, not being particularly subtle in his staring.
“Why are you so far away?” He whines in complaint, rubbing his hands across his face.
“Because you said you don’t wanna have sex with me?” You say like a question, throwing him a confused look over the collar of the shirt you’re pulling through your head.
“I didn’t say that”
You throw your balled up clothes onto the floor next to his dresser, instantly making a mess of his otherwise organized room. He can’t even be bothered to complain about it, missing even the mess you leave in room, as you crawl towards him and balance on top of his thighs again.
“You kinda did,” you interrupt him before he can argue. “But that’s okay. I’m a big girl, I’ll get over it”
“We could make out a little bit” he suggests, his hand creeping up your now bare thigh.
And that you do, until both your lips are swollen and his neck is bruised and his hard cock is pressing against the thin material of your now wet underwear.
“We should stop” you breathe out when he’s sucking your earlobe between his teeth, hands on ass and definitely coping a feel in the meantime.
“Why?” He asks, still not stopping.
“Because I really wanna fuck you and we can’t” you complain, not exactly pulling away, but just tugging on his hair to keep his mouth on your neck.
“Wanna fuck you too. Missed feeling this pussy around my cock” he groans against your neck, and you can feel yourself clench around nothing, wishing it was his cock instead.
“Okay, we’re done” you push on his chest until you’re sitting up again.
“We don’t have to stop” he complains, still gripping on your thighs to keep you on top of him.
You press a kiss to his cheek and he tries to chase after you to kiss your lips again. You push him away giggly and climb off of him, laying next to him and looking at his pretty face as he lays on his back, face turned to watch you.
“We do have to stop because you’re a tease and I have no self control”
“Fine, we’ll stop. But when my parents are gone again…”
“You’ll have me all to yourself, handsome” you assure him confidently. He presses a quick peck to your lips before you can complain again, pulling away smugly.
“It’s a deal”
“Now come on, I haven’t been sleeping well without you” you tell him, turning your back to him and tugging on his hand until his chest is pressed to your back. He tries to keep his hips away from yours, as if you weren’t literally straddling his lap seconds ago.
“You haven’t?” When you shake your head in reply, more concerned with wrapping his arm around waist, he continues. “Shit, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish you could stay here without having to sneak in like a teenager but-“
“Hey, I know. I don’t you to get in trouble because of me” you link his hand with yours and brings his knuckles to your lips.
“I really missed you” he says in a sweet and sticky voice, his face sinking in your hair.
“I missed you too”
“Goodnight, sweetheart”
“Goodnight, Stevie”
Despite the recent late nights reaching through empty cold sheets for your boyfriend who isn’t there, you can’t fall asleep. Steve’s hips are pressed against yours, his hard cock wedged between your bodies and you can feel he’s still awake too, his breathing still too quick behind you.
You take a deep breath and squirm a little as you try to get comfortable, his arms almost too tight around you. When you’re finally settled, you close your eyes and just will yourself to fall asleep, despite the uncomfortable wetness pooling in your underwear and your boyfriend’s hard cock on the curve of your ass.
Barely five minutes have passed when you feel Steve sigh loudly against the back of your neck.
“Fuck”
You huff out a laugh, “what’s wrong?”
“I’m hard” he complains, adjusting behind you and accidentally making his cock drag through your ass and both of you sigh at the feeling.
“It’s your fault”
“How’s it my fault?”
“You were the one saying we should make out”
He huffs this time, pulling you closer to him.
“Not my fault you’re irresistible” he mumbles, hiding his face between your shoulder blades.
You can’t help but laugh again, despite the sigh of pleasure that escapes you and turn your head slightly to see his big brown eyes watching you over your shoulder.
“You’re horny, pretty boy?”
He leans over you, almost squishing you to the mattress to press his face to your neck, “don’t say it like that”.
You giggle and place your hand on top of his, moving your ass against his cock deliberately, all bad intentions. You feel his breath hitch in his throat and his fingertips dig on your hips to guide your movements.
“What did you say before? How I’m too loud?”
“You are” he mumbles against your neck, biting you there almost too hard and rutting against your ass.
“Doesn’t seem to bother you when you’re telling you love the sounds I make”
“I do love the sounds you make, just not when- fuck” he groans quietly against your ear when you hold tightly to his hair.
You keep moving your hips backwards, both of you trying your hardest to keep quiet. One of his arms wrap around your body, and the other start slipping underneath his borrowed t-shirt to move teasingly through your tummy, skimming the edge of your underwear.
“Steve…” you sigh when his hand hand starts creeping lower and lower to mess with the elastic band of your underwear.
“You gotta keep quiet, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?” He whispers near you ear, his lips barely leaving your skin as he speaks.
“Yes, just please touch me” you beg, clinging to the arm holding you and digging your nails there.
His hand finally slips through your mound and finds you, soaking wet and so, so warm, his cock twitching between your ass cheeks at finding you so ready for him. He slides his fingers through the wetness in your entrance spreading it all the way to your clit and you have to hide your face in the pillow under your head to keep from moaning too loud.
“Right there?” He asks unnecessarily, because he has fucked you enough times to know by heart the way you like it, just to tease you and feel you nod against him.
“Right there, baby. Keep going” you plead quietly, moving your hips to feel his cock behind you and his whole body surrounding yours.
He swirls his fingers around and you keen underneath him, sinking your nails on the arm of the hand touching you to get him to move faster. He keeps going, rubbing small circles in your clit in a dance you’re both so familiar it’s almost painful to imagine being away from it for so long. Suddenly he stops and you whine, he shushes you and dips his fingers lower until you they catch on your entrance. You moan against the pillow when he finally slips his finger inside and his hand leaves your waist to roughly grab the inside of your thigh and spread you open.
“Fuck, you feel so good” you mumble against the pillowcase, following the movement of his finger with your hips. “Missed your fingers”
He finally slips a second finger and you jut your spine, his cock digging between your ass cheeks.
“Gonna fuck you so good when we’re alone,” he murmurs somewhere around your ear, so quietly it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “Gonna fill this pussy up the way she deserves, just the way you like it. You want that, baby?”
You nod dumbly, clenching around his fingers at his words. “Can I have another finger? I’ll be quiet, I promise”
He slips a third finger in and even if it’s not the same as his cock, you feel it stretching you open. It’s all you can think of as he fingers you, you imagine how his cock would be stretching you out in this position, how fucking full you’d feel, how he’d fill you up with his cum.
His thumb shifts to flick against your clit and that’s all you need to get there, hurling to your orgasm in a way only Steve’s ever been able to give to you. You release a particularly loud moan before you can stop yourself and Steve’s free hand’s there, quick to clamp over your mouth, his other hand still fucking you and rubbing your clit through your orgasm.
You moan loudly against his hand one more time, the sound distant and muffled before you gently touch his arm to signal him to stop. His hand slips from your underwear and from over your mouth and he fixes your panties for you as you calmly try to catch your breath, his cock still digging on your lower back.
“Oh my god” you pant, feeling a gust of air on your neck when he laughs. “You’re amazing, Steve Harrington. I can’t believe I still haven’t gotten used to that”
You turn in his arms to see his face, his wet hand digging on the knobs of your spine. He’s still laughing, almost smugly so.
“You wouldn’t say I’m amazing if you ever saw yourself cum”
You’re giggly as you slip off your underwear, now sticky and wet against you and climb on top of him. You pick up his hand and bring his still wet fingers to your mouth to suck on them, tasting yourself on his skin. His eyes darken almost instantly, watching you avidly as you suck it and pull away with a wet lewd sound.
He’s pulling you in before you can tease him or say anything, his hand cradling your face in his hands, his spit wet fingers on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, tasting you on his tongue. You pull away when you notice he’s getting too into it, his hips jerking underneath you, rippling off his t-shirt.
“Babe, we can’t fuck. They’ll-“
“Yeah, yeah…” you wave him off, now proceeding to get rid of his sweatpants and underwear all in one go, his cock bouncing up and hitting his belly button. You eye it sinfully, almost drooling in your desire to get your mouth on him. “We’re not fucking. I’m gonna go down on you and you’re gonna be quiet for me, is that okay with you?”
“Babe-“
“You never let me go down on you” you complain with a whine, resting your hands on your own thighs.
“Because I always blow my load like a teenager when you blow me and it’s fucking embarrassing” he complains, gripping your hips and pulling you until you’re laying on top of him.
“Well, I think it’s hot” you pout, resting your hand on his cheek and giving him a lingering kiss. “Let me go down you,” you kiss him one more time, “please, handsome?”
“Fine” he sighs dramatically, like you’re ask him a huge favor.
“You know, a lot of guys would die for a girl who likes to blow them” You complain matter-of-factly, sliding down his body to straddle his thighs as his cock prods your stomach.
“Well, I like it a little too much” he answer shakily, as you press open mouthed kisses to his chest, his ribs, the spot above his bellybutton. His hands rest in your head, to pet your head lovingly and you manage to find it in you to forgive him.
“You look so hot like this” you comment against the skin of his hip, sucking a mark there and thumbing it gently. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good”
“Jesus, just… go slow okay? It’s been a while” he stammers, still petting your hair softly. You glance at him skeptically, raising your eyebrows.
“You’re telling me you didn’t jerk off once this whole time? We were literally on the phone the other day-”
“I didn’t say that…”
You snort and spit on your palm, getting it wet and watching the pre cum pooling at the slit of his cock. “You’re so full of shit”
“Hey-“ he cuts himself off with a groan when you lick the pearly liquid on his tip, one of your hands wrapping around the base to jerk him off slowly.
His fingers tighten their grip on your hair as you lick around around his tip and continue to move your hands around him, reaching his base and going all the way up again. Your free hand rubs against his upper thigh, occasionally scratching him lovingly.
You spit on it and lick along his length, following a vein back to his tip, trying to him as wet as you can, just the way he likes it.
“Fuck” he pants when you finally take him into your mouth, widening your lips so you can reach the middle of his cock as you work the rest of him with your hand. You gulp around him, breathing through your nose as you progressively take more of him, working your way up his cock so you can reach his base with your mouth.
You’re starting to get into the rhythm of it, the way his cock feels in your mouth and the slightly salty taste when he gently pulls a strand of your hair to catch your attention.
“H-hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum” he warns.
You pull away from his cock heaving, still stroking him in your hands slowly. “Isn’t that the point?”
“Wanna enjoy this” his hand finds your cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb and you press a kiss to his palm. The gesture’s almost too soft for the moment, but it’s always been like this with him.
“Whatever you say, handsome” you agree, pressing a single kiss to his tip. Your hand still stroking him slowly as you lean down to press kisses to his thigh and suck another mark there.
You keep jerking him off as your free hand slides down to fondle his balls and you spit on them too, for good mesure. You finally suck one of this balls into your mouth, your hand still massaging the other one.
He groans loudly above you and you pull away with a muffled moan of your own, reluctantly pulling away.
“Remember what we talked about, handsome?” you remind him, stroking him torturously slow now. He nods absent-mindedly, eyes still focused on the movement of your hand. “You have to be quiet or I’ll stop”
“Baby, please don’t stop, please” he begs, his hand gripping your head to keep you close to him.
“Don’t be loud and I won’t” you promise.
“I promise, I promise”
You go back to sucking on his balls and his hand meets yours where it rests on his hip, squeezing your fingers tightly between his. He looks like a mess above you, hair sticking to all side from running his hands through it, cheeks red and his eyes so sharply focused on you it’d embarrass you if you hadn’t done this before.
You lick around his tip one more time, sinking your mouth to the middle of his cock and working the rest of him with your hand until you finally manage to reach the base of his cock, the trimmed hair surrounding the base tickling your face.
He releases a muffled groan above you and glance up to see he’s biting his fist. His eyes meet yours and his hand finally forces you to gag around his length, a moan of your own leaving your throat.
It doesn’t take long for him to come after that, between gasps and muffled moans and random babbling, he warns you he’s gonna come and you keep your mouth around him, gagging around him until you feel his cum shoot into your throat, salty and not particularly good but so Steve, you swallow it eagerly.
You keep your mouth around him until he’s too sensitive and pulling you away by the arm almost roughly. You let him and he guides you to lay on top of him, kissing you forcefully.
He tastes himself in your mouth and you both groan at the feeling. He keeps kissing, kissing, kissing you until you’re breathless and pliant on top of him and he’s all loose limbs underneath you.
“I’m never going that long without seeing you ever again” he pants, his fingers massaging your scalp where your head rests on his chest.
You huff a breathless laugh as you draw nonsense shapes on his skin, “no complaints from me.”
“Good, you’re totally staying over tomorrow night” he decides, still relaxed underneath you.
“We can try your shower,” you point at the closed door of the bathroom connected to his room. “They’ll definitely not gonna be able to hear over the running water”
He freezes beneath you for a second, and then he starts laughing. “Can’t believe we didn’t think of that until now”
“Add that to list” you mumble tiredly against his chest, finally slipping into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.
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