#the goddamn neck kissing and the lip biting. like if we’d left it THERE.. oh my god. we should have left it there

[fruitcoops]

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #headboard #game suit

[winters-blue-children]

A WinterBaron Fic. Part of this series that I like to call WinterBaron Trash.

Despite his better judgment, Bucky wants the arrogant prick of a Baron. And he knows Zemo wants him too. Unfortunately, Bucky also wants to keep the upper hand.

He starts with a warning in his tone. “We told you not to step out of line. We told you not to make a move without our permission.”

Bucky’s voice is low. His body is buzzing, itching for… not a fight exactly, he’d had enough of that for the day. But perhaps, a confrontation maybe. So that’s why he left Sam in the main area of the plane where he’s still speaking to Torres and sought out Zemo. And now here they are.

Bucky grinds his teeth when Zemo doesn’t even bother to look up from what he’s doing. Nor does the other man seem at all worried by the icy steel menace in his voice.

Bucky watches as Zemo continues to prepare his small plates of biscuits as if he hadn’t spoken. Unclenching his jaw, he asks, “You really want to shorten your little vacation from prison?”

Finally, Zemo lifts his head to glance at him, looking annoyingly nonchalant. “I did everything you asked, James,” he says gently. And when he turns his body to face him, tilts his head in that frustrating knowing way that he does, Bucky almost regrets his decision to seek out the other man.

“You wanted a lead and I gave you one,” Zemo continues, his voice still too casual. He smirks, knowing that Bucky can’t even argue the point, because he’s the one who helped him break out of prison—despite what Bucky tells himself and what he keeps insisting to Sam.

“I knew where to start and I got us to where we needed to be. Dare I say, James,” Zemo raises an eyebrow. “You might have even enjoyed my company.”

Bucky flushes red at the memory of the previous night and what they did at Sharon’s. He recalls soft lips and a warm, wet mouth. His spine tingles, unsure if he’s found himself here because he wants more. He hopes not.

Bucky’s eyes darken and he exhales roughly. “You killed Nagel,” he growls.

Zemo nods. His eyes harden as well. “What did you think was going to happen? We’d sit him down for a nice cup of tea?”

Bucky scoffs and looks away. Of course, he’d known. But he can’t help the echo of Dr. Raynor’s rules in his head. Do not do anything illegal. Do not hurt anyone. Even as he breaks those rules, again and again, when he needs to—he still hesitates, every single time. Maybe it’s because he likes Raynor and knows that she’s good for him. Or maybe it’s because he thinks of how Steve would be so disappointed that Bucky isn’t able to stick to the straight and narrow without him. That his ‘recovery’ isn’t everything it was supposed to be in his absence.

Zemo lets the pause linger between them before speaking again, as if he were carefully reading the conflict across Bucky’s face. “You would have done the same,” he says quietly. “You wanted to do the same. I did what you could not.”

Bucky closes his eyes. His jaw tightens as he speaks, “Stop speaking like you know me, Zemo.”

Zemo, ever so confident, gives him a wry grin. “I know that you are constantly holding yourself back. At Selby’s?” He raises an elegant eyebrow and gives a single shake of his head. “Even when you are playing the soldier, you fear what you could unleash if you were to truly let yourself go.”

Of course, Zemo is right. A punch to the gut would have felt worse. But Bucky stubbornly bites his tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

“I understand, you know,” Zemo continues in a low voice, as he takes a step closer. Bucky freezes, not sure if he wants the other man any closer. But then Zemo says quietly, “And I get it. You don’t have to do that around me.”

Bucky’s spine freezes. He heaves a heavy sigh and swallows.

Bastard. After everything he’s done, after Berlin, after Siberia— it was nothing personal— bullshit, Bucky thinks. He knows better than anyone that actions speak a lot louder than the intentions behind them.

But the thing that really grates on his nerves is the way Zemo shows no fear around him. Instead, he’s calm, confident, and collected. Something there reminds him of the Winter Soldier’s many handlers. Bucky shudders at the reminder.

“You don’t know me,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “You piece of shit, you don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Everything that you read in that book, everything you think you know, that’s not me.”

Zemo blinks. Goddamnit, maybe he was slightly off base because something changes in the air and Zemo suddenly looks genuinely sad as he considers him with those warm bambi-brown eyes.

“Oh James… I’m sorry that’s what you think of me.” Zemo tilts his head to the other side, a small wry smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “When I look at you, I don’t see the Winter Soldier. I don’t see the weapon, the asset, or the fist of HYDRA. I see the man.”

His tone is genuine, not at all condescending. And it makes Bucky want to believe him.

“You don’t see shit.”

“It’s the truth,” Zemo says quietly. He watches him with heavy-lidded eyes and takes another step closer, and then, “I see that man. And I want that man.”

The sweat on Bucky’s back goes cold. “What?” He snaps. And then softer, he asks, “Why?”

Zemo chuckles, though his lips barely twitch. He bows his head and looks to the side. The sudden facade of bashful and timid makes Bucky want to scream.

“You’re a beautiful man, James.” Zemo smirks and tilts his head. “I can’t be faulted for noticing.”

And then Bucky sees red. He’s fuming as he rushes to close the few feet of space between them. His face burns with heat as he grabs the smaller man by the lapels of his stupid purple sweater. His teeth clench against the sting of indignation and anger.

“You son of a bitch,” he grits out and he slams Zemo painfully against the counter behind him. Zemo spares him another small, sly smile. To add insult to injury, Bucky’s stupid cock is once again finding an interest in the closeness of their bodies.

Zemo breathes. His tongue peeks out to swipe against his bottom lip.

Fucking asshole. Bucky trembles, struggling to keep a clear head. He doesn’t know whether he wants to hit Zemo or kiss him. It’s an oddly refreshing predicament to be in really, partially because the other man is no match for him physically. Bucky has made it clear that he could snap his neck like a twig. But the problem with Zemo is that he likes to fuck with his head.

Bucky’s hands tighten their grip against Zemo’s collarbones. He leans closer, dwarfing the other man with his larger stature.

“You’re just aching for it, aren’t ya?” He keeps his tone light and condescending, some faint amusement buried not so deep underneath. “You want me to fuck you?” He growls, a hair’s breadth away from Zemo’s lips.

A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth at the way Zemo’s eyes widen in shock. Or maybe lust. He holds the vibranium hand against Zemo’s throat, while the other slowly drifts down between the other man’s legs. His cock is already stiff, so he curls his fingers around his balls instead. He squeezes—not too hard, but enough to feel Zemo swallow against him in discomfort.

“You want me to fuck you so hard, until your knees give out and you can’t even say your own name?”

“Yes.”

No other word has sounded so good to Bucky’s ears. “Say it again,” he bites out. His grip inadvertently tightens.

“James,” Zemo rasps, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re hurting me.”

Bucky blinks slowly, watching the other man with dark, hooded eyes. And then, “You like it.”

It isn’t meant to be some revelation. Yet Bucky feels something akin to begin struck dumb at the way Zemo nods, his cheeks flushed red.

Bucky typically runs hot from the super-soldier serum coursing through his veins. Added to the warmth that spreads from Zemo’s skin through his fingers and limbs to his groin, and the heat is suddenly almost too hot to bear.

“You really want it?” Bucky asks curiously. Do you really want me?

“Yes, James, please.”

Now this is something he could get used to. Zemo begging him, pleading for him. Bucky bites down on his tongue as he thinks of Zemo on his knees again, taking him into his mouth and swallowing him into his throat. Maybe this time, he could turn him around and take him from behind. He would fuck that tight ass rough and hard, drawing broken gasps from his lips, and refusing to let him come until he’s begging him like a whore.

It’s a nice thought. Almost good enough to make him do it.

“James?”

At the sound of the small voice, Bucky averts his eyes and takes a slow smooth breath. Zemo is aching for his cock. Desperate for it, really, if the way he shudders and trembles, seeking friction against him is any indication.

He needs this to be over. He needs his head clear again—Zemo is too much of a distraction over anything else.

He needs to see Zemo crushed and humiliated. The other man still writhes helplessly against him, whining to bring attention to his needs. That helps.

Bucky has the upper hand here. He knows this now. He chuckles softly to himself. A smug sneer graces his face as he carefully loosens his grip. He takes a resolute step back and revels in the dumbfounded, speechless look on Zemo’s face.

Zemo stares at him, staggered, jaw dropped in shock, as he continues to step away.

“I appreciate your honesty,” Bucky says lightly before he turns on his heel. A second later, a Sokovian curse bites out like music to his ears.

Bucky smirks to himself as he retreats. So petty and stubborn, he thinks Steve might actually be impressed with him.

#TFatWS #WinterBaron #BuckyZemo #Bucky Barnes #Helmut Zemo #Baron Zemo #my fics

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 11

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, injuries. Rated M

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

We awoke from a loud banging on the door.

“Get up and get dressed, bitch. You got work to do!”, a gruff voice said. “Where the hell is her guard?”.

Rick flew up and put on his pants and shirt, faster than I’d ever seen anyone do. “Disappear!”, he whispered at me; and I went out of sight.

Opening the door, Rick stared down the guard outside. “What the hell are you doing here, asshole? You’re supposed to be watching the pastel psycho!”, he growled; making me bite my hand to avoid laughing at this new nickname for Harley.

“Sorry, sir. Right away, sir”, the guard answered, and ran off down the hall.

Rick closed the door again, and I reappeared, sputtering with laughter.

“Pastel psycho? Oh, she’s gonna love that!”, I chuckled. “Please don’t tell her I said that”, he said, and grabbed for his boots and jacket; before realizing I was standing naked in front of him.

He walked up to me, wrapped me in his arms, and kissed me deeply, making my knees go weak. “It might be a minute before I get to do this again”, he breathed, and latched on to my lips once more.

The room was still chilly, though we had fogged up the window quite a bit the night before. I was shivering from the cold, and Rick helped me gather my clothes.

Finally dressed, we shared one last kiss, before leaving the room to join the others; Rick once again holding on tightly to my arm.

Walking into the room with the cages, we were met by Waller, Edwards and the Tweedles; and the squad. They were standing over a folding table, looking at a map.

“How considerate of you to join us, Chess”, Waller said coldly, before looking to Rick. I pulled at my arm, to make it seem like he was holding on to hard. “Did she try to run?”, she asked him.

“I got her”, he answered, and pushed me towards the table.

“Yeah you do”, Harley smirked at us, before Floyd bumped her with his shoulder, mouthing a shut up, and grinning in my direction.

“We’ve narrowed down the location of our target to this area, most likely this building”, Waller said pointing at the map.

“The target being?”, Harley asked with a half-smile. Waller looked at her indignantly. “That’s not important for you to know”, she answered. “All you need to know is that the leader of the group is a bad guy, and it’s your job to take him down”. Harley narrowed her eyes at the woman, before smiling again. “Anything you say, boss”.

Waller continued. “The building we believe they are occupying is close to Gotham U; making that the most probable target of their attack. You need to take them out before they make their move”. She put a small shoulder-bag on the middle of the table. “This is how you’ll do it”.

Rick opened the bag, and pulled out a square black box, with a number display on top of it. He carefully put it on the table, and took a step back; making everyone but Waller follow his lead.

“Waller, this is crazy”, he gasped. “You wanna blow this guy up?”.

“I won’t be blowing anyone up”, she answered, and looked at me. “Chess will”.

A murmur rose in the room, as I froze in place. “I don’t know the first thing about bombs!”, I squeaked.

“This one is quite simple”, Waller answered with a smile. “You press that red button, hold it in for three seconds, and let go. The timer is pre-set to 1 minute. After that, the bomb will go of. It’s quite forceful, so you should try to hurry out of the way”.

Rick moved towards her menacingly. “Waller, this is out the question. She can’t do this!”. “Why not? She’s been perfectly able to run away from explosives before”, she answered. “Her ankle”, he tried. “Seems to have healed up well enough”, Waller said, looking towards my leg, and my unbandaged ankle. “She’s even got a new pair of nice leggings to go with it”.

I’d discovered a new pair of leggings – identical to my own cut op ones – in my trunk, before we left Belle Reve.

“This is happening, colonel, and you need to get with the plan”, she said, staring him down. “Don’t forget, I have the same access to those nano-bombs as you do”, she finished, and looked in my direction. Ricks pained eyes met mine. I nodded slightly, and walked up to the table.

I picked up the small box. It was heavier than it looked; or maybe that was just because I was aware of the damage it could do. “This button right here?”, I asked, pointing at the little red nubbin under the display. “That’s it”, Waller answered. “And then I have 1 minute to haul ass out of the building”.

“You seem to know exactly what to do”, she smirked at me, and turned to the rest of the group.

“Now the rest of you. Your job is to get Chess as close to the building as you can”, she said. “Do not go in to the building with her”. “Why?”, Floyd asked; loading his sniper rifle before the job at hand. “We believe they have cctv rigged up, and Chess needs to get as close to the target as she can. She can’t do that with you all holding on to her”.

Harley was fidgeting with her baseball bat. “In and out, huh?”, she asked. “Let’s do it”.

I placed the box in the shoulder-bag, and put it on; now carrying certain death at my hip.

“Yeah”, I said. “Let’s do it”.

“See you on the other side”, Waller said, and left the room, flanked by Edwards and the twins.

Taking the elevator down to the ground floor, everyone was quiet. The bag was heavy on my shoulder, and I concentrated on breathing without freaking out. I felt Ricks fingers lace into mine.

“You good?”, he asked. “Absolutely not”, I answered, smiling. “We all have your back”, he said, backed up by a grunt from Croc. “We ain’t letting nothing happen to you”, Floyd said.

“Oh, lighten up you bastards”, Digger exclaimed, slapping Ricks shoulder hard. “You’re all acting like she’s walking into her death”. “She’s carrying a live bomb”, Diablo said. “Right, I forgot about that one”, Digger grumbled.

---

We were driven in a van to an alley about 3 blocks away from the targeted building.

“From here, we need to go in invisible”, Rick said. He pressed the button on his arm, the small light turning green.

“I need you all to hold on to me”, I explained.

Digger stepped up to me, took a firm hold of my left breast, and smiled at me; gold tooth shining brightly. Rick visibly tensed up. I raised my eyebrows at the aussie.

“You need to be touching a part of my skin”, I reiterated. “Well take your bloody top of then!”, he said exasperatedly.

Diablo smacked the back of his head, and Digger let go. “Well, you’re no fun at all”, he mumbled.

Ricks body relaxed, but he took a firm hold of his machine gun; obviously wanting nothing more than to blow Diggers head of.

“Where?”, Diablo asked, and looked at me seriously, ignoring the death-stare Digger was sending his way. I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket, baring my arms.

“One on each arm I guess”. Shrugging the jacket down my shoulders a bit, leaving them bare due to my loose top, I continued. “One on each shoulder”.

“That still leaves three of us”, Floyd said.

“What if I carried you?”, Croc asked. “It might work. Some of us could hold on to your legs, and we’d be more mobile”, Rick backed him up. “You also wouldn’t be spending your energy walking. We might get further”. I sighed. “Fine”, I said. I rolled up my leggings, and Croc bent to let me jump onto his back. “Piggybacking a crocodile is not how I saw my day going”, I grumbled. Croc chuckled quietly as I grabbed on to him; and I put my cheek to his neck, so we were skin to scales.

Harley took a hold of my left shoulder, and Floyd took my right; after being reminded to take of his glove. Rick placed a hand under my top, on my bare back. Digger, being exiled to my left leg, slid his fingers around my calf. Before he could get too frisky, Diablo moved up behind him, grabbing a hold of the same leg, his hand close to Diggers, to keep it in place.

This only left Katana. She said a few words in Japanese. “Katana, we need to move out. Now”, Rick said pointedly. She answered him, going of in a rant, before I interrupted her with an irritated voice. “Just touch my goddamn leg!”. She shut up, stifled a smile, and took a hold of my right leg.

“Let’s do this”, Rick said, and stroked my back with his thumb in encouragement. “Croc, you set the pace”.

I smiled, and concentrated fiercely on letting my mirage surround us all.

I could hear members of the group gasp, as they saw their limbs disappear into a fog.

“This is some brujería”, Diablo whispered. “Says the pyrokinetic homeboy”, Floyd answered.

We began moving, as I held on for dear life to Croc. The air smelled like rain was coming, and the thought of that made me nervous, as our invisibility wouldn’t help us much, if a sudden shower decided to give away the shape of our bodies moving through it.

“Whoever is groping my ass; move it or lose it”, Floyd said. “Sorry man, I thought you was Harley”, Crocs voice chuckled. “Aw, that’s so sweet”, Harley giggled.

“Quiet!”, I gasped, my body purring fiercely. I could feel my energy being drained at a swift rate.

Croc was moving us forward quickly, getting us closer to our final destination.

We heard a scream from further down the street, and saw three masked men chasing after a man in a suit. “Boomer and Katana!”, Rick hissed. “Right, boss”, Digger answered, and let go of me. It took him a second to move, as he watched himself reappear. He shook his body, and ran off, getting behind a cluster of parked cars. Katana followed his move, recovering much faster.

Pausing for a second behind a parked bus, Harley stepped away, and smacked a sleazy looking guy across the head with her bat. She grabbed my shoulder again, and I made her disappear. We kept moving.

“Deadshot; the roofs”, Rick whispered, and Floyd let go. He climbed up a fire escape, towards the roofs.

Rumbling could be heard from the sky; a single raindrop landing on my cheek. I shuddered from the coldness of the air. “I need a break” I gasped.

Croc moved us towards a doorway, and we hid just inside the door. I was shivering.

“She’s drained”, Rick said, and put his jacket around me. I slid down on the floor. “Diablo?”, he said; and the tattooed man crouched in front of me. He lit his hand aflame, and I cupped my own around it, relishing in the warmth.

“This isn’t a good place to be taking a break”, Croc said, looking outside. “She can’t go on yet, not having to cover all of us”, Rick said angrily.

A loud thump on the ground was heard from outside. Digger came running through the door. “Floyd just took out some poor bugger on the roof, and we got company coming!”, he panted, and looked at me. “What’s with the kitty?”. “She’s spent, man”, Diablo said, looking at him, and then at Rick. “Flag, I can keep burnin’ this flame, but it ain’t gonna give her back the energy she’s lost”.

“I need sugar”, I said, voice weak. Rick grabbed a protein bar from his pocket. “Best I can do right now”, he said apologetically. I ate the bar, while scowling at him. “Boy scout”, I muttered, and tried to stand back up. “Shut up”, he said, and put my arm around his neck, so he could support my weight. “You good?”, he asked, voice soft. “Getting there”, I answered with a half-smile. Forgetting himself, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Aaawwww!”, Harley said, finishing with a little squeak.

“Shit”, Rick muttered.

Katana roared something from outside the door; and Rick instantly looked worried. “Croc, go help her”, he said. “Diablo and Quinn; stay with Chess. Try to find her something to eat, anything to keep her energy up. Digger, on me”. “Aye, aye”, Digger said, and went to follow him.

“Croc”, I called just before he went out the door. “Smoke?”. He smiled and threw me his pack of cigarettes. “Goddammit”, Rick said, and ran out the door, the two others following close behind.

Diablo lit my cigarette for me, as Harley went through her purse. “Here”, she said; and handed me a small bag of pop rocks. “They’re the bubblegum kind”, she beamed.

Two puffs of the cigarette, and I was done. “Smoke’s not good for the lungs, mami”, Diablo smirked. “Shut up”, I coughed, and laughed back at him.

I poured the candy into my mouth, feeling the tiny explosions on my tongue. “So, he’s got a good pole that goes with that name?”, Harley jeered, and grinned at me. I instantly flushed red, and looked at the floor. “It’s not half bad”, I smirked. She squealed excitedly, and grabbed me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you. Even if he is a stick in the mud”.

The door opened, and Rick looked at us, confused for a second. “What are you…”, he said, and then shook his head. “Never mind. We cleared the street up to the block the building is on. You ready to move out?”. “Do I need to smile?”, I asked. “No, we should be good for about half a mile”. “Then lets go”, I said, and moved for the door with him.

“Hey”, Harley called from behind us. “What”, Rick said, and looked at her. “You break her heart, I break your neck”, she said, face serious.

He held her gaze. “Yes, ma’am”, he answered, took my hand, and we moved down the street.

---

They hadn’t been kidding. The street was cleared alright. Not a bad guy in sight. I saw Croc carrying two bodies over his shoulders, throwing them into a dumpster, before joining the rest of us. Floyd appeared from somewhere. “Roofs are clean”, he said, and moved to the front of the group.

We moved forwards silently, Rick only letting go of my hand, once we reached the street-corner of our destination. The building was tall, and looked abandoned.

“This is it”, Rick said. “This is as close as we can get you”. He grabbed my hand again. “It’s gonna be ok”, I smiled at him. “I’ll be back here to enjoy the fireworks with you in no time”.

He put his hands on either side of my face, and kissed me. His tongue found mine, and we were lost in the moment, my hand in his hair, his on my back, pulling me impossibly closer.

Someone cleared their throat. We pulled away from each other, and saw the squad were all stood smirking at us. “When did this happen?”, Digger asked, followed by another smack to the head by Diablo.

I stepped back, took of Ricks jacket and handed it back to him. “One hour”, he said. “Then we move in to pull you out”. I nodded, and went to cross the street.

I hear footsteps behind me, and Harley grabbed my arm. “Take me with you!”, she said, face serious. “Waller said…”, I began. “Screw Waller! Trust me”, she said. Her expression was for once completely sane. I didn’t know why, but something was telling me to go with her request.

I looked towards Rick, who was shaking his head.

“Y/N!”, Harley insisted. “You’re gonna want me with you!”.

I sighed, looked deep into her pleading eyes, and nodded. She smiled broadly at me, put her hand on my exposed lower arm; and I smiled.

We ran across the street to the building, having difficulty being quiet, due to Harleys stilettos clicking against the concrete. There seemed to be only one entrance; a large wooden door, that turned out to be unlocked. We went inside and let the door close behind us.

Inside was a large staircase. We snuck up it, though we could see no enemies around.

Once on the first floor, Harley let go of my arm.

“Harley!”, I hissed, to get her to stay put. She ignored me, shed her coat, and threw it over a broken chair in the corner.

“Honey! I’m home!”, she called brightly.

 Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #harley quinn #captain boomerang

[arcarnal]

Make Me - Asra x MC

Warnings: A bit angsty, smut

It was late.

It was late, and the rain was pattering heavily onto the ground, and I was standing in front of the shop. My cloak was soaking wet, my hands gripping onto it tightly, covering as much as I could.

I’d promised Asra I was going to be back much earlier. But I’d lost track of time, and before I knew it, it had started to rain. It didn’t ease down even hours later, and after a long while I made my way through the rain as fast as I could to the shop.

The sky was dark, and I could see flashes of lightning above my head. My breath shuddered as I listened to the sound of the rain all around me. My feet were sore. I was freezing cold.

I wondered if Asra was still up.

I didn’t know what to hope for. He’d be worried sick if he was.. Or not.

We haven’t been having the best of days together. Over the past week, it feels as if there’s always at least something one of us disagrees on. The other day, we got in a stupid arguement about not locking the door before I left in the morning – I didn’t know he was going to leave for the whole day because we’d been barely talking from an earlier disagreement.

Today’s been another long day. Part of me wants to run in and wrap myself around him.

The other part still clings onto the frustration that’s built up over the past few days with him, not wanting to have anything to do with him.

Shaking my head of further thoughts, I pushed open the door and entered. Sliding my dripping cloak off onto the floor, I took a moment to breathe in the warm, less humid air, appreciating the atmosphere that contrasted with the air outside.

“You’re back.”

My head turns sharply to the source of the voice. The white haired magician was sitting at the table with his back turned towards me. It could’ve been my imagination, but it seemed for a moment that his voice hinted some concern. But his overall tone depicted.. A mixture of feelings – somewhere in there, frustration?

“I locked the door this morning, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” I said sharply, an annoyed tone clearly displayed. He gave off a small scoff that sounded like a mocking laugh.

“Do you know what time it is, MC?”

I do not have time for this bullshit. At this point, all desires deep down in my mind wanting to put my arms around him had gone off. All I want to do was head to bed.

“Oh, it’s a very pleasant bright morning. And I’m totally not soaking wet, or exhausted, thanks for asking, Asra.” I let out in a firm exhale, looking at his back with annoyance.

Asra lets out a loud sigh that coats the end of my sentence, turning to get up and face me. He crosses his arms as he gets on his feet, now meeting my eyes. Once again, I cannot decipher his emotions from his face completely.

“It is, indeed. You’ve been gone for the whole of the very pleasant morning, too.”

“God, why do you care?” I snap, my eyebrows scrunched together. “At least I don’t come back days after I leave the store!”

“Oh, putting it on me now, are we?” He hissed, his eyes slightly narrowing. “Tell me, MC, in this current situation, who’s the one returning after dark to the only other person at home?”

“I wouldn’t want to return home if this is all I ever get home to anymore.” I sneered. “But don’t you dare guilt trip me about this, because we both know which one of us disappears like the goddamn magician he is for however long he likes away from the other person who sometimes waits a whole goddamn week for him to return.”

Asra opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly flail my hand out to continue as if I didn’t see him try to say something.

“And for what? For this bullshit! Arguing about who doesn’t lock the door? About who leaves the store all day? What’s your point here?”

“My point, here, MC, is that the store isn’t safe when you leave it just like that for the whole day!” Asra rebuked, his face growing a little pink. For some reason, a part of me deep down knows that isn’t completely the truth. But I push that away for now.

“The store? The store, Asra?! What kind of stupidity is that?! When was the last time we even had a break in?!”

“You know anything can happen at any time – I’m saying that you leaving the store like that when it was supposed to be watched and when you were supposed to be here to help the customers–”

“You leave for days. Days, Asra! Weeks on ends sometimes! Don’t you think it’s a small favour just for you to watch it alone for one day?!”

“Oh, shut up, MC, you know why I go away for long periods of time! We both know who’s the one collecting ingredients for the sake of the shop–”

“Shut up? Shut up?! Make me!”

These are the words I yell out without a second thought as I tune out the rest of what he says, blood rising in anger. Never has he told me to shut up like that, not even in previous arguments. Asra’s face hints clearly with a startled expression for a split second before his mouth stops moving mid-talk, eyes still on mine. My breath joins the pattering of the rain outside, a bit worn out from all the yelling.

Just as fast as he stops talking, he recovers from this state. Slowly putting his arms down by his side, he walks towards me at the same painstakingly speed, our eyes not breaking contact, not even for a second.

His face is inches away from mine when he says, in a slightly softer, and yet somehow more heated tone, “What did you say?”

Something catches in my throat, and I feel that my blood rises even more, but not from anger this time.

“I said,” I breathed, taking in ragged breaths still. “Make. Me.”

And for a moment, I see a heated twinkle in his eyes too, a reflection of mine.

His hands cup my cheeks firmly before our lips crash onto each other’s. I find my hands desperately gripping onto the back of his neck, a warm wave of heat and relief flowing through me. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been this close ever since we’ve started having conflict between us. But this, all of this happening right now–I can’t focus on everything, but somehow it feels like such a relief, and it feels so good, and just so right.

When we break apart, Asra’s lips trail down to my neck, and my hands clutch onto his white locks as my mouth unwillingly lets out a soft moan, taking in the contact he had on my damp, longing skin.

He finds his way onto my lips again before pulling away again, and my elbows support my weight as I push them onto his shoulders, as his arms wrap around my waist. My legs wrap around his body as he somehow manages to carry us both up the stairs. He drops me onto the bed and I pull him in for another heated kiss, his body hovering over mine.

When he pulls away once more, I can hear his breath unevenly being taken in and let out as our frustrated eyes glare into each other.

“You wanted me to shut you up?” He whispered, my breath hitching as one of his hands grips one of my thighs. “Well, I’d like to see you try, love.”

I can feel my core increasingly warming up underneath my already rain-soaked clothes. Asra slides his top off with ease before doing the same with mine. As he lowers his head onto my chest, I bite my lip in an attempt to stop any sounds from coming out of my mouth. His mouth sucks onto my skin, leaving marks that I have a feeling I probably won’t be forgetting anytime soon. His hands find their way down to my legs, slipping the bottom part of my attire off along with my undergarments. My legs desperately open up slightly, anticipating as he trails his kisses down to my core, pushing my legs up onto his shoulders.

“Eyes here.”

He pushes my legs gently in the direction of the headboard, motioning for me to move backwards. I push myself backwards enough for me to slightly lean against it, putting my head down enough to have our eyes meet. A faint smirk traces the edge of his lips as his tongue begins to swirl around my clitoris, exerting an unvoluntary small gasp from my throat, to which he pulls his head away.

“I’m sorry, was that sound I heard?”

I can only breathe shakily in return. I can see his smirk wishing to grow wider.

“Let’s make a deal, then–no sound, and I’ll let you enjoy the pleasure I’m undoubtedly currently providing you with. Sounds fair?”

My legs close in just a tiny bit as I nod in response.

“After all,” he purred against my core as he pushed his head towards it once again, “You are the one who told me to make you shut up, hm?”

His eyes look expectantly up at me, a soft chuckle resulting from his amusement.

“You can respond to that one, love.”

“Sounds fair,” I manage to mutter out, part of me wanting to slap myself across the face for saying those words to his very face.

A ghost of a smile flashes on his face before he drags his tongue slowly up against my warmth, and once again I’m biting my lips desperately as he sucks onto it at a very, very slow pace. His tongue finds its way into my entrance, my hips grinding to feel it deeper as my hands clutch onto his hair.

His violet eyes look up innocently at me with a coat of superiority, allowing me to move myself against his tongue for a while until he rests his other hand on my thigh firmly, stopping me from moving at further. My throat feels like it’s holding back a clump, restrainfully blocking even the smallest sounds from coming out. My hands pulls slightly at his hair as warmth starts to build up at the bottom of my stomach.

Asra pulls away just as I feel it about to spill out–my eyes are almost filling up with slight tears from the emotions that’ve been building up along, with the current frustration of him not letting me finish, when he says in a low, slow voice, “You don’t have to be so quiet now.”

A small whimper lets out of my mouth in relief, pushing him gently towards where he had previously made me feel so good, urging him to continue.

“Oh, you wanted to–?” He asked sweetly with the same innocent eyes, head tilting to the side. I can feel part of my face slightly flushing, nodding.

“I’m sorry, love, I’m afraid I don’t understand. Tell me–what would you like me to do?”

“I would like your face back inbetween my legs.”

“Hmm,” he purred, now breathing very closely near my thighs again. “And why, exactly?”

“Because,” I manage to pull out, words getting tangled in my throat. “Because–you make me feel good.”

“Hm, tell me more,” he asked, teasing his tongue on my skin, another shaky sigh escaping my lips.

“You make me.. Feel so good, Asra,” I breathed, running my hands in his hair softly. His expression softens for a moment at this action, and my heart fills up with the tenderness I’d last felt weeks ago, the kind of tenderness I’d forgotten I felt.

I’d missed his body, the feeling of his being so close to mine, the sounds of the both of us filling up the entire room all to ourselves.. But I’d missed him as a person in general more.

My person.

Asra lets out a soft, fond sigh, and I pull his hair slightly, pulling his head up more.

“Now,” I whispered, the superiority in his eyes reflecting in mine this time, “You’re going to let me finish.”

He nodded, and without another word, he pushes his tongue down into me once more, my throat letting out moans I’d been pushing down before. I look up, his mouth doing wonders to me, bringing my stomach once again to a build-up that my whole body anticipates–I let out louder moans as my legs close in around his head more, my hips grinding harder, my breath getting shakier–and it’s not long before I let out a loud, concluding moan that ends in a pool of warmth underneath my shaky legs.

I let my head rest against the wall, eyes closed. I feel soft kisses around my thighs before I can hear the muffling of him getting out of his bottoms, then using his hands to push my shoulders down gently onto the bed for me to lie down on my back. I feel his warmth against mine as he hovers above me, his breath on my nose. I open my eyes for a short moment and put my arms gently around his neck, pressing my forehead to his.

“I’ve missed you in bed,” I said softly, closing my eyes.

“Is that all you’ve missed me for?” Asra asks teasingly. I can feel a soft smile growing on his face.

“Mm, I’ve missed you in bed at night as well,” I respond.

“I did sleep here, though,” he said, to which I responded, “I know. I just never got to see you before I got into bed. Or look at your face in the morning anymore when I got up. I knew you intentionally did that to avoid looking at mine.”

A moment of quiet, before I continue, “I missed you in bed, at night when I slept, and in the morning when I woke up, Asra.”

He lets out a quiet sigh.

“I didn’t want to argue anymore before we drifted off to sleep, MC,” he said. “It was tiring.”

I open my eyes, kissing him on the top of his head. “I know. It was.”

Asra’s lips tugs at a soft smile before they made their way onto mine once more, but this time it’s different. It’s gentle, and soft, and caring. As we get wrapped up in the kiss, I feel him entering me below, and we both let out a muffled moan inbetween our kiss.

We don’t break apart as he increases his pace, in fact, we pull each other closer towards each other. The movement from below sends waves of pleasure throughout my body, low groans filling up the room from Asra’s lips as my hands travel down to his back. In this moment, I feel the heat of anger and frustration slowly collapsing away. Everything is in place. I’m here, in the room, with us on our bed once again, our bodies enjoying each other’s warmth, our voices reverberating all around the room.

We are both almost at our peak, with the movement having picked up at a fast pace, when Asra nuzzles his head in my neck, both of our groans loudly clashing with each other. The last few thrusts sends an imminent wave of pleasure down my spine, our bodies shakily stopping our movements as we both let out a final, loud clash of groans, his warmth filling me up, and the feeling of my warmth being let go.

Our breaths fill the room for a while, ragged and exhausted, as his head remains in my neck, and as my fingertips ease themselves from his back.

He pulls out of me slowly, falling next to me onto the bed, his arm over his eyes. We’re both still panting, and I take a moment to catch my breath before rolling over and gently push his arm aside, making him open his eyes.

I support myself on one elbow as I use a hand to run it across his beautiful face, hooded violet eyes looking into mine.

“You’re back,” I smiled softly, echoing his words from earlier. “In bed, with me.”

He nods with a slight “hm” in return, his lips now in a smile.

I lean forward to give him a tender, lingering kiss, then I settle on his now outstreched arm, putting my hand on his chest.

Our eyes droopily look at each other as the sound of rain continues to patter outside the walls. I let out a soft sigh as he presses a soft kiss onto my head. I draw myself closer to him before letting my eyes fall shut.

I know he’s here next to me as I begin to fall asleep. I can hear his soft breathing, I can feel him, his warmth next to mine.

And I know this time that when I wake up, I’ll definitely see his face again.

#the arcana #the arcana smut #arcana smut #asra the arcana #asra x apprentice #asra imagine #asra alzanar #asra x oc #asra x mc #asra smut

[looking-for-another-world]

Not Alone

summary: Bucky spends Christmas alone at the compound. Or nah?

pairing: Bucky x reader

warnings: 18+, tiny bit of angst, mentions of family toxicity, cursing, explicit smut, dirty talk, like one allusion to reader being plus-sized, soft!bucky, really sappy - you have been warned

words: 6321

a/n: This is my entry for @honeyhan-123​‘s HOLIDAY SPIRIT WRITING CHALLENGE. I had the prompt “Finding the perfect Christmas tree / decorating it” and looking back, I might have slightly diverted from that oops. This was so much fun to do though. This is literally my first finished piece of writing in years, so be nice to me, ok? Right, tmi. Anyways, this has gotten way out of hand in terms of how many words I wanted to write. I might make 3 separate files of it when I’m in the mood to figure out links, but for now here’s the entire fic in one. Enjoy! Also, I hope your 2020 is going to be amazing ❤💫🥂🎆

Prologue

As soon as Bucky stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers compound, his super soldier senses made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something’s wrong.

It was Dec 23, one day before Christmas Eve, and everyone except him had gone away for the holidays. Clint was visiting Laura and the kids, accompanied by Natasha (apparently, the boys had been nagging their mom for a solid 2 months whether Aunt Tasha would be staying with them), Wanda and Vision were traveling around Europe, Tony had taken Pepper to some little island in the Caribbean Sea, and Steve and Sam had booked a cozy, remote cabin in the woods to go skiing, hiking, getting drunk (well, Sam at least) and most importantly, getting away from being the Avengers for a few days.

Initially, Steve had Friday book the trip for three persons, but Bucky had refused. This was the first Christmas since many years that he was starting to remember who he was, really was, and although Steve was pretty much everything he considered home, he had preferred to spend Christmas where he actually came from.

In the end, Steve had reluctantly agreed, not wanting to push his best friend, but insisting that they at least spoke to one another on the phone every day. And so, Bucky had spent his day wandering the streets of Brooklyn for hours, fulfilling his best friend duty on his way home and telling Steve how much everything had changed and yet, strangely, still felt familiar. He could hear Steve smile through the phone; he felt the same. That’s when Sam had burst through the door of the hut, screeching “All I want for Christmas is you” next to Steve’s ear and ruining the moment. Steve had said his goodbye, leaving to stop Wilson from inhaling another bottle of Eggnog, and Bucky had wished him good luck with the bird brain. He returned to the compound, more mentally than physically exhausted, and headed straight to the kitchen, suddenly remembering that he hadn’t eaten something in hours. And there it was: A small puddle of water on top of the counter, as if someone had taken something out of the fridge and put it there for a moment. Only that there was no one to do that. He was supposed to be alone.

It couldn’t have been him: his soldier and assassin training had left him with an urge to leave everything neat and tidied; no traces. Silently, he made his way back into the hallway, calling the elevator and going two levels down, to the first level that was officially “Avengers territory”. Going back up, he searched every floor without coming across anything suspicious. And then, as the doors of the elevator opened to the 18th floor with a slight swoosh, he sensed it: There’s someone else on this level. He tensed up. His super soldier hearing going into overdrive, he snuck along the dimly-lit corridor until he heard them: sounds coming from the last room to the left, the entertainment room, stacked up with books, movies, consoles, a pool table, anything you could think of to pass your free time. He tried to hear more intently. The person on the other side of the door barely produced sounds; all he could make out was their shallow breathing. Someone with a normal hearing wouldn’t even have caught up on it.

Bucky conjured up a blueprint of the room: even if he could get through the door unnoticed, there was no place to hide. The whole design of the room practically screamed: “Look who’s coming!” His only advantage was the element of surprise. Trying to calm down his nerves, he took a few deep breaths and braced himself. Not wanting to have his arms in a position he could easily be taken hold of in, he stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked the door down, storming inside, met by a piercing scream and a loud splash as the bucket of ice cream you had been holding met the ground.

“(Y/N)?!”

“What the hell?!”

“Why are you here?”

“I fucking live here in case you haven’t noticed! Why are you kicking the goddamn door down like I’m some HYDRA agent trying to slit your throat?”

“Because-”, Bucky stops, guilt washing over him. Guilt and anger with himself. Even HYDRA wouldn’t be so dumb as to blow their cover like that, and they’d do a bit more than get the kitchen counter dirty if they wanted to make their presence known. “Because I thought you were one.” His voice is low now, almost a whisper, his eyes unable to meet yours, fingers fumbling with the hem of the coat he didn’t have time to take off. And seeing him like this, you understood: He thought someone had intruded.

You let out the breath you were holding. “I’m sorry, Buck. I wasn’t thinking. I should have let you know about my change of plans and that I’d be spending Christmas at the compound.”

His ears perked up at that. “You are? I thought you were going to visit your family.” You smiled sadly and now that his mind and body weren’t overtaken by adrenaline anymore, he took in your state for the first time. You looked pale, your eyes red-rimmed, like you had been crying. You were wrapped in the navy-blue blanket twice your size that Wanda had given you for your birthday. It went all the way down to your ankles where the legs of your sweatpants were peeping through, showing just a small stripe of skin before the fabric of a pair of green fuzzy socks covered your skin again. The ice cream you had dropped started melting on the ground, slowly dampening part of the expensive rug the pool table stood on, which you didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?”

You let out a mixture between a snort and an unconvincing laugh. “I talked to my mom on the way to the airport. She started complaining about how much I’ve been letting them down this year, bringing up things I didn’t even think were an issue anymore, and how she hoped I would pull myself together this time, for the sake of Christmas and our family. So, I figured I’d probably have a more fun time being alone in my room and sleeping for like 2 weeks than I’d have being with them.” The last part was meant to sound casually, but Bucky didn’t miss the twitch of your lips and how your eyes started to gloss over again. He wanted to say something to comfort you, but his mind didn’t know where to start and so he just kept staring at you wordlessly, which you took as a sign of annoyance.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you with that shitty Christmas music or candy or anything of that kind. I’m not gonna ruin your alone time. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He frowned at that, then, and as his tongue still seemed to be tied, he did the only thing he felt was appropriate: He put your arms around you and hugged you, hard, all-consuming. “I’m not worried you’re going to ruin my alone time. I like having you around. I’m sorry your family are like that, when they’re the ones letting you down.”

You’d liked to reply to that, thank him for his sweet words, but you were sure you’d start crying again the second you stopped biting down on your lip. So you reciprocated the hug as best as you could; after all you were lacking Bucky’s strength. Bucky squeezed you shortly and let go, and when your eyes locked again, you couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. Jesus, this guy certainly made you feel things. No surprise you were crushing on him so hard.

“We’d better clean this up”, Bucky said gesturing to the now empty ice bucket head and your eyes widened as you noticed the mess you’d made. “Shit!”. Tony had spent an insane amount of money on that carpet, even for his proportions. He’d shoot you to the moon for that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Bucky jogged back to the elevator, returning a minute later with a wet cloth and a roll of kitchen towels which he handed to you. Getting to work, you suddenly became aware of how much closer than usually you two were. You could smell Bucky’s aftershave – something resembling cedarwood – watch the muscles in his arms flex as he tried to rid the fabric of its B&J make-over, study the stubble on his perfectly sculpted jaw, his hazelnut locks, his plump lips. Oh god, his lips. Just thinking about having those lips kiss every inch of your body got you worked up. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake!

“So you’re really planning on skipping Christmas? It’s your favorite holiday”, Bucky interrupted your thoughts, shooting you a glance to see you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t want to see my parents right now, and I can’t imagine celebrating Christmas on my own. So yeah, guess I’ll be taking a break from it this year.”

“You’re not on your own, though. You’re with me. We can celebrate.”

You felt a pleasantly warm sensation in your stomach which you tried to ignore, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “You hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate all of it, I hate what it’s become. I hate that most people care more about what useless shit is in their stockings or under the tree than about who they’re spending their time with. I hate how every shop starts putting up Christmas stuff before it’s even October. They don’t even call it “Christmas” anymore. I mean seriously, xmas? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped you at how upset he could get about it all and realizing he had started ranting without wanting to, Bucky had to stifle a laugh as well. "Point I’m trying to make is ” he concluded “I wouldn’t mind spending Christmas with the right company.”

Oh, and that’s supposed to be me? Right company?“, you shot back. "Sure thing, doll. You’re like an expert on Christmas, I can’t go wrong with you. Also, I like having you around. ” He furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve already said that, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you have. But that’s okay, I like hearing it”, you laughed, your hand briefly touching his arm. You were becoming kind of needy, it appeared. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, or at least he didn’t let it show.

Looking down, you noticed with an internal sigh of relief that the ice cream puddle had given way to the water and the kitchen towels. All that was left was a wet patch that would hopefully disappear overnight.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets”, you joked. “Thanks for helping me.”

“It’s the least I could do, after scaring the shit out of you.” He took the dirty towels from you. “Guess we’re Christmas buddies then” he grinned. It was surprising how excited he seemed to be all of a sudden, but you didn’t let yourself linger on that thought. “Well, as the official Christmas ambassador, I have to let you know that this place sucks. There’s not even decorations.”

That was true. The past weeks had been incredibly hectic, even more than in previous years, and since almost everyone would be gone over the holiday season anyway and Bucky had emphasized several times that having the tower turn into Santa’s village would most likely lift his dinner, rather than his spirits, Tony hadn’t bothered to put up decorations.

Bucky gave you an amused look. “I see you’re getting into it. Alright, what do we need?”

“You mean, like everything?”

“Yeah, like the ideal setting. Can’t be that difficult.”

You gave him a sceptical look. “Oh no, not at all. We just need the decorations, music, candy, ugly Christmas sweaters, stuff to bake cookies, a firepla-”

“Okay, okay, I take it back.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “This is too much. What’s the most important thing?”

“The tree”, you replied without thinking. “The tree is the most important, to me at least. When my dad used to tell me he’d be bringing the Christmas tree home tonight, I’d spend all day glued to the window of my room, waiting for his car to steer into the driveway. It’s the one thing we ever did as a family, all three of us, decorating the tree. Everything else would be pretty much Mum and me, since Dad would be out working. The tree is … it just wouldn’t feel like Christmas without it.”

Inadvertedly, your brain had walked down memory lane to pictures of baubles in gold and red and purple and every color of the rainbow, mingled with the scent of fir and your dad’s bass voice singing “Have yourself a merry little Christmas” to you while you were sitting on your lap, and suddenly another wave of sadness hit you and you had to fight back the tears that were starting to well up again. You swallowed thickly before looking back at Bucky and were met with an understanding look. He had noticed your struggle but chose not to bring it up again and you were grateful for that. Grateful for him.

There were a few beats of silence before the super soldier offered you a tentative smile and said: “So Christmas tree is your final answer?” Another giggle.

"That’s my final answer.”

Part 1

You woke up to a sky the color of granite. Gloomy light and heavy clouds. Your heart jumped a little in your chest at the prospect of another downfall of snow. What’s Christmas without snow, right? Too comfortable to get up right away, you snuggled back into your pillow and let your mind wander.

It was embarrassing, really, but thinking about spending the whole day with Bucky filled you with a mix of anticipation and nervousness you usually felt before first dates. Prior to your job interview last February, you had spent hours and hours hooked up on research about the people you might soon be working with – the fucking Avengers! -, but Bucky’s story, or at least what was known of it to the public, had fascinated and moved you the most. It was hard for you to wrap your head around how someone could endure the most appalling things you could possibly imagine, and that for decades. Someone like the ex-Winter Soldier could barely be human anymore, filled to the brink with hatred and disgust for the world and the people in it, that you were sure of. And then, when you got the job and got to know him – he was the exact opposite. Sure, he was careful and hard to read, especially at the beginning, but he was kind. He was funny. He was emphatic. He was a nerd. He was sweet. And when you moved in to the tower and the two of you spent more time together, your feelings towards him grew stronger, and you found yourself imagining waking up next to him, his lips on yours the first thing you taste in the morning. Cupping his cheek and watching his eyes crinkle when he flashes you his million-dollar smile. Stroking his hair while he reads his favorite passages out to you or rambles about how all the things he’s just discovering now are not quite as good as what they had back in the days, but some of them are not bad. Being pressed down by his weight as you get to explore all of his gorgeous body and find out what sounds he makes when he’s buried in you, filling you up, making you feel so good as you’re begging him not to stop because he’s hitting just the right spot and you never want to let go of him, so good, please Bucky, please don’t stop, oh God, I’m so close baby, fuck…

The loud buzzing of your phone jerked you out of your trance and made you sit up straight in your bed, your heartbeat thumping in your ears, cheeks heated, fingers you didn’t even remember putting there coated in your arousal. Breathing heavily, you stretched your neck to see who the caller was: Mum. Oh, hell no. In a sudden burst of resurging anger, you declined the call, threw your phone away from you and let yourself fall back against the headboard with an audible huff.

Finishing the job wasn’t going to happen after yesterday’s events started rolling in, so you forced yourself out of bed and into the shower, washing away the heat of your little daydream with water as cold as you could bear. Putting moisturizer on, you focused your thoughts on today. If Bucky still wanted to help setting up everything for Christmas, they should get started as soon as possible. An actual Christmas tree was a bit too much to ask obviously, but maybe they could find a fake one and some funny tree ornaments to go along with it? Sweaters shouldn’t be that much of a problem either, they practically threw them in your face around this time of the year. And the Christmas music could easily be taken care of by Spotify.

You started listing the essential ingredients for three or four kinds of Christmas cookies in your head when you left your room to get breakfast. Closing the fridge door, you tried to decide where and in which order to go to get everything you needed on time (or should you split up?) when you noticed the yellow, blue, pink and green dots on the cold metal surface, dancing around in a carefully studied rhythm like colorful fireflies. Frowning, you turned around.

The huge panorama windows were decorated with beautifully woven ice flowers up to almost half of their height and framed by several strings of Christmas lights, cheerfully blinking against the grey sky outside and bathing the living room area in a colorful hue. Now that you stepped closer, the living room looked different as well. The couches and armchairs were covered under thick and fluffy-looking plaids and pillows with different Christmas-themed motives; a very kind looking Santa Claus on one, a couple of reindeer holding cups of Eggnog and singing “Jingle Bells” on another and the slogan “Tis the season” in as much glitter as could be fitted on so small a space emblazoned on a third. There were decorations, too: a nutcracker next to the tv, an angel’s choir holding candles on one of the couch tables, a snowman, a sledge, a rocking horse, a squirrel in a scarf… You couldn’t even decide where to look first. Too preoccupied to take everything in, you didn’t notice Bucky’s presence until he cleared his throat. “Do you like it?” You turned around to meet him, dumbfounded and still trying to understand what was going on, even more so when you saw the sweater he was wearing: fir green and depicting a penguin wearing a Christmas hat. You let out an incredulous laugh. “Did- did you do all this?”

Bucky lowered his gaze briefly and gave you a sheepish smile. “Pretty much, yeah. I’d hoped you’d sleep in. Gave me enough time to set everything up.” Your mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. “I-“ “Wait!” he interrupted. “There’s more.” He outstretched a slightly shaking hand and seeing that you didn’t respond, hastily withdrew it. Finally though, your body and mind seemed to have rebooted, and you grabbed his hand with both of yours. It felt hot against yours, hot and slightly raw. Bucky shot a surprised look from your intertwined hands to your face and you could’ve sworn that his cheeks blushed slightly. Is this even real?

Squeezing your hands slightly, he walked past you and into the living room, pulling you with him. Around the corner, out of your line of sight, there was a slightly smaller lounging area with the best stereo sound system Tony could get his hands on and without tv, designed for the numerous occasions you fancied actually spending time with each other and being able to face each other when chatting or playing games instead of just staring at a huge screen in unison. Now though, the bean bags had been moved to the side and in the center of the room stood – a tree. Not just any tree, but a fir tree about 10 or 11 feet high, almost filling up the room with its size and emanating that unmistakable scent that always took you back to fond Christmas memories. Next to it, on the ground and on several of the bean bags Bucky had piled up a seemingly endless number of boxes containing Christmas baubles of all sorts, ranging from the traditional ones to typical Christmas motives, Disney characters, and even the most absurd things such as very small-sized fruits and vegetables.

You couldn’t remember when your heart had last felt so light and full. If Bucky’s hand hadn’t anchored you, you might have just floated up through the ceiling and into the sky. And why not? Who knew what else might be possible after all this had felt so much like a dream already? Giving yourself no time to think about overstepping boundaries and the like, you threw yourself into Bucky’s arms, feeling rather than noticing his strong arms instantly enveloping your frame. “Thank you.” Your voice was muffled because you had buried your face in the crook of his neck and because you were close to crying again. Sensing your state, Bucky started tracing soothing patterns on your lower back and mimicking his movements, your hands started stroking his broad shoulders. “My pleasure, doll.”

He held you like that for several moments, lightly swaying to and fro, taking deep breaths with you. And after a while, when you’d quieted down a bit, you noticed that not only your heart threatened to jump out of your chest; Bucky’s heart beat a lot faster as well, hammering against his ribcage so much that you could almost feel it against yours. You drew back a little so you could see his face and were met with a look you’d never seen on him before, a look that went straight to your groin. His hands tightened on your back, like he was afraid to let you go, and your nose lightly brushed his. And just as you were about to close your eyes… his phone rang.

The noise startled you so much that you jumped in his arms and Bucky let out an audible sigh. “That’ll be Steve. Be right back.” With that, he let go of you to grab his cell from the kitchen and you felt like someone had just emptied a bucket of ice water over you and snapped you back to reality. More than that, you did feel cold. Had your body grown used to the heat radiating off him so quickly? Also, and that was the most important: What the fuck did just happen?

Bucky returned about 10 minutes later and found you in almost the same spot where he’d left you, now sitting awkwardly on one of the empty bean bags, desperately trying to regain composure. His heart still fluttered from being so close to you, and as he wanted this day to be anything but awkward, he’d spent a good 7 of those 10 minutes away thinking about how to proceed. In a manner he hoped would come across as relaxed, he sauntered over to the closest bean bag and picked up one the boxes filled with baubles. “Soooo”, why was his voice so squeaky? “let’s get started, shall we?”

He couldn’t see your heart slightly sink in your chest because the magical moment had officially passed of course; he just had eyes for the warm smile you offered him in return. “Sure.” You got up to take hold of one the boxes as well when he remembered something. “Hang on.” You raised your head and could make out something slightly mischievous in his orbs. “I won’t be the only one wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.”

—

4 hours later, any sign of awkwardness or discomfort between the two of you had officially gone to the wind. As instructed, you’d put on the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find (an awful mix of pink and gold in the shape of a Christmas elf with actual bells that jingled whenever you moved), Bucky had put on some music and you’d gone about your business. At some point (probably after your fourth cup of cocoa with rum and Bucky’s third pint of Asgardian mead he’d snatched from Thor’s quarters), you decided to forego any sense of aesthetics and just put up as many ornaments as would fit on the tree. As a result, it now looked as if the slightest gust of wind would make it collapse on the spot, but you two were oddly proud of your work. Taking cocoa and mead with you, you decided to have a small break and moved over to the living room area.

There were a few beats of comfortable silence, Sinatra softly buzzing in the background. Then, out of the blue, Bucky asked you to tell him your favorite joke. You were too tipsy to question how he’d come up with that, so you pondered his request for a moment and then answered. “I hate Russian dolls. They’re so full of themselves.”

Bucky sat up on his spot of the couch and gave you an odd stare that made you wonder whether he’d understood you at all, and then burst out of laughter, almost spilling his drink in the process and making you laugh in return. You’d never really heard his laugh, just the occasional snort when he deemed something worthy of a reaction, but this was a sound made from the gods themselves and you could listen to it all day, every day, for the rest of your life.

Slowly, his fit came down to a low, melodious chuckle. “Honestly doll, sometimes I want to kiss you all over.” “Don’t hold back.”

The words had come out of your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t remotely sound as teasing or nonchalant as you had meant them to. They sounded sincere, almost desperate. Because they were. And suddenly, as you watched Bucky’s expression falter, you felt remarkably sober again. Oh god.

Part 2

Carefully, Bucky stood up, moved over and sat down next to you. “Are you serious about this, (Y/N)?”

Heat crept up your skin, all the way from the swells of your breasts to your ears. You’d honestly never felt that put on the spot. Unable to answer, your gaze fixed the carpet, hoping that if you stared long enough, maybe it would do you a favor and swallow you whole. Bucky was now less than inch from you, close enough for you to smell his shampoo, his breath fanning the side of your face, making things only worse for you. Your heart sank deeper and deeper until you could feel it in your stomach, heavy like a rock. This day had been going so well. Why did you have to ruin it with your stupid inebriated brain? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then you felt his flesh hand cup your face, softly turning your head to meet his eyes. Those beautiful, cerulean eyes. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you.” Frowning, you shook your head, your synapses refusing to process that bit of information. You swallowed several times before you found your voice again. “Please don’t mess with me, Bucky”, you heard yourself whisper, at which Bucky violently shook his head. “I promise.” And then his lips were on yours and you kissed him back.

It started out innocently enough, slow, tentative kisses, allowing the other to back out in case they changed their mind. Only that he didn’t back out like you thought he would. And you didn’t back out like he thought you would. Realizing how effortlessly your mouths pressed against each other, how right his lips felt on yours, you gradually grew bolder. You turned slightly to mirror his position and your hands went up to his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and jaw before carding through the silky strands of his locks at the back of his neck. One hand in his hair, you let the other explore more of his body as you felt up his biceps, his back, his chest abs. A content hum escaped his throat which only spurred you on. One hand in his hair and one bunching up the fabric covering his chest, you pressed yourself closer to him. His grip on your face tightened as he opened his mouth and his tongue caressed your bottom lip. Greedily, you welcomed him in your mouth and let out a deep sigh as your tongues met for the first time and the two of you fought for dominance over the other.

Bucky’s hands wandered down your body to the hem of your shirt and his lips soon followed suit. You let out a whimper when he sucked at the sensitive skin of your pulse point, determined to mark you. You’d never really liked hickeys, but this was different. You wanted everyone to see, see what had happened between the two of you. While your hands tangled in his hair, his slowly made their way under the fabric of your sweater, exploring the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your belly, cool on your right side, burning on your left.

It was so much more than you’d ever dreamed of, almost too much to bear, and yet his touches only made you more impatient, more needy, more desperate to have him. “Bucky…” It was barely more than a sigh, but Bucky’s head shot up at the sound and his eyes met yours. “What’s it, sweetheart? Talk to me” You took a moment to take him in, tracing his glistening bottom lip with your thumb. “I need you.” Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. “I need you too, doll. So much. That’s why I’m so scared of messing up with you.” You took his face in your hands again and pressed a kiss to his forehead, his eyes closing at the sensation. “There’s no way in hell you can mess up with me, James. Don’t hold back. Take me.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “Please.”

It was like a switch had been flicked. Bucky leapt forward and buried you under his weight, making you sink into the soft cushions. Kissing you even more passionately than before, he positioned himself between your legs. The bulge in his pants now clearly noticeable, he started grinding down on you and the friction made you pool with lust. You let out an audible groan that made Bucky’s cock twitch. Steadying himself with his metal hand, he clumsily lifted your shirt up your body with his right hand so the fabric bunched up over your breasts. Eager to assist, you arched your back to unclasp your bra and pulled it up as well. Bucky’s hand immediately reached out to palm the newly exposed skin while his tongue darted out to massage your already swollen buds. He went from left to right and right to left, making you stick your chest out as much as you could, before suddenly taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily on it. You cried out in pleasure and his dark eyes went to scan your face, lip drawn in between your teeth, eyes pressed shut, your breathing getting heavier by the minute. Too mesmerized by the sight of you, he didn’t notice your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair move from his back to the front of his pants until you massaged his erection through the fabric, running your palm up and down his impressive bulge. He let go of your breast to take a deep breath and used his right hand to feverishly rub your clothed pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise. Your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to slow down. “Don’t want to finish off like that. Need you inside me.”

Bucky’s answer was an appreciative growl. He stood up, freeing himself first from the sweater that was becoming increasingly hot and then from his jeans and boxers. His size was impressive, the tip swollen and glistening with pre cum and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

“Uh-uh. Let me take care of that sweetheart.” His voice was now a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. Agonizingly slow, he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off you, groaning when he got a glimpse of your drenched panties. Sitting back on his haunches, he pushed your knees apart and ran his palms up the inside of your thighs, then softly ghosted over the purple cotton, before hooking his thumbs under the waistband. “Show me your pretty pussy, (Y/N).” In one swift motion, the piece of clothing was gone, and Bucky let out a low hiss at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck, doll. You’re ven more beautiful than I imagined.” You were at a complete loss for words, but Bucky didn’t give you time to respond anyway. He took a hold of his erection and coated in in your juices, your overstimulated body jumping at the sensation, before locking eyes with you and carefully sliding his tip inside you. You both let out a needy whimper when he filled you up, going deeper and deeper, your pussy obediently swallowing him, until he bottomed out.

Bucky was still on his haunches, giving you time to adjust to him, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You okay?” You nodded. “You can move.” Bucky started thrusting in and out of you, accelerating his pace when it became obvious that you were in as much pleasure as he. Soon, he was mercilessly fucking you into the couch, snapping his hips forward and pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, and then repeating his actions, over and over and over again. When he used his metal hand to draw circles on your clit, you were a whimpering mess beneath him, uttering incoherent curses and multiple variations of his name. You felt the familiar sensation build up in your gut and squeezed his hand to hold off, but he wasn’t having it, only increasing his efforts. With a muffled scream, you came all over his dick, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. The sight of you coming undone combined with your cunt convulsing around his dick pushed Bucky over the edge as well and his thrusts became sloppier as he painted your walls with his seed and then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and bathed in sweat.

—

Your second time together was slow and gentle, taking all the time you now knew you had, making sure to leave no inch of your lover’s body unattended to. The third time was rough again, Bucky fucking you against the shower tiles, cold water pouring down on you because you’d accidentally changed the setting when Bucky had lifted you and neither of you had noticed. The times that followed took place in various places of the Tower; the pool table where Bucky had found you the day before, the kitchen island, Sam’s bed (which seemed to give him a particular kind of satisfaction), in several of Tony’s cars, at one of the panorama windows, your front against the shining outline of the city (and the fake ice crystals) while Bucky took you from behind, all the while whispering sinful things to you that drove you insane, how often he’d sat in his room fucking his fist to your image, your plump lips that were just made for his cock, your curves that made your entire body jiggle when he drove into you, that beautiful ass of yours, imagining your sweet voice begging him to make you feel good. After all, it appeared he’d thought about you as often as you had about him.

—

You woke up to a rose-tainted sky and soft kisses peppered across the back of your neck, your shoulders and along your spine. You giggled into your pillow. Bucky’s strands brushing your bare skin gave you a tickling sensation. “You’re up early.” Bucky hummed into the crook of your neck, making your skin vibrate. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before heading out for my run.” You turned around to face him, his hair tousled, eyes still glossed over from sleep. Nobody should be allowed to look that gorgeous. “What is it?”

“Steve and Wilson will be back from their trip in a few hours and they will pester me about my crush on you and whether I’ve finally done something about it.” He rolled his eyes and your smile grew wider. “What are you going to tell them?” Bucky reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. “I’d like to tell them that I asked you out on a date and that you agreed, but that wouldn’t be entirely true, would it?” You quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re asking me for permission to lie to your best friend?” Bucky laughed at that, that kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle. “Y/N, would you like to go out on a date with me?”

You tilted your head to the side. “Depends. Does that mean we’re gonna have to sleep in separate beds again?” Bucky raised your hand to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles, then he stretched his head and planted a kiss on your forehead. “No way. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

#honeyhan’s holiday spirit #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #smut #fluff #fic #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes/y/n #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #i'm so nervous about this you have no idea

[venactricisfics]

Good as Hell

Negan x OC SL

@negans-network @neganmorgan @mypapawinchesterjeffreynegan @ask-kakashihatake   @haleyea@collette04  

Masterlist

I stand in the yard, looking through the opening in the walls to the Hilltop then back to our enclosure.  Now was the moment I had to choose.  I needed to see if what Simon said was true but I was terrified at that moment that he spoke the truth.  My gut told me that Simon was full of shit. All the time I’d spent with Negan meant something.  To both of us. At least so much that he didn’t want to see me dead. 

“You can’t go,” Alden shouted at me as I start toward the open fence. 

“I can’t stay,” I look back to the house, “I have to find out for sure.” 

“Run,” Alden pushes me through the gate as he and some of the others that stayed close the gate behind me.  I pick up a discarded shovel and start running.  It’d be morning before anyone at the Hilltop would come looking if they came looking. It’d be even longer than that to hike back to the Sanctuary.  But I had to hoof it back there. 

I breathe and walk. Listening for the living, the dead.  Either one could and most assuredly would take me the fuck down without a second thought. This was probably stupid.  Walking alone at night was never a good idea.  And the end of the fucking world didn’t improve those ods.  

My luck seemed to improve just a touch as the sun peers over the edge of the horizon.  I find a car, with half a tank of gas. Fingers crossed as I turn the ignition. It sputtered a little before it roared to life. My foot heavy on the petal I drive back to the Sanctuary.  

Arat slid open the gates when I drive up, “Is he here?” She shakes her head, “Dwight and Simon think he’s gone.” 

“He’ll make it back,” I climb out from behind the wheel, “he’s too damn stubborn to die.” 

“Come on,” she says, “Let’s get you upstairs before Simon sees you.”

“That asshole left me there,” I walk with her up the back steps. “To die. I almost got killed in his Hilltop ambush.” 

“That wasn’t the plan,” she said, “Negan went to rescue you and the others.  Simon went off-script.”

“I knew it,” I respond as she leads me into her room. “If Simon thinks Negan is dead, he’s gonna try to take over. We can’t let him do that.” I take a seat.  “He’ll fuck things up beyond all recognition. Get more people killed.”

“What do we do?” she said and handed me a bottle of water.  

“Thanks,” I take a long drink. I can’t remember anything tasting so good before, “we over through him. As to exactly how,” I stand up, “I’ll let you know after a shower and a nap.” 

The sun had already set when I stepped out of Arat’s apartment, I kept close to the wall, I didn’t want to be seen, not yet.  Not until I figured out this thing with Simon and until I knew for sure what happened to Negan. 

Going into the boss’s room, was probably not the smartest idea. I smile as I turn the knob and duck inside Negan’s room. It had gotten me into this trouble in the first place. I lay a change of clothes on the back of his leather couch.  The truth of it was, I wouldn’t change a second of it. My life changed for good in with that decision. And I didn’t want it to change back. 

I step under the warmth of the shower, the heat relaxing every muscle in my body.  I washed and conditioned my hair. Felt like a person again. My hand moved over the slight swell in my stomach and I knew there was only one-way shit would change. We’d have to figure out a different way to work with the communities.  After I took Simon out of the field of play. 

I rang the excess water from my hair then stepped out of the shower.  I’d left the bathroom door open and wipe the steam from the mirror. I met his hazel eyes in the reflection.  I turn slowly praying it was not just a figment of my imagination. 

My cheeks didn’t flush as I stand fixed for him to admire me with that look of his. The one that sparked every cell in my body.  I take the few steps to close the gap between us.  My palms rest on the worn leather of his jacket satisfied that he was real, I step up on my toes and press my lips to his. I let the flavor of Negan dance on my tongue while his hands move over my naked body.  A gloved one squeezed the cheek of my ass pulling me closer, while his bare one cupped my breast, thumb circling my nipple to a hardened peak.  

“I missed the fuck outta you too, baby,” he smirked when the kiss finally broke.  “Let me take a look at you.” He steps back a moment letting his eyes linger on my body, taking in every inch. “You are still super fucking hot.” 

“Stop talking,” I tell him, “and take your clothes off, Negan.” He shrugs out of his jacket and tugs his white T-shirt over his head.  I didn’t care that he was still covered in dirt and grime from whatever he’d been through. I just wanted to feel connected with him again.  

“Get on the bed,” I crawl on the bed on my hands and knees.  

“Fuck that is a fucking beautiful sight,” his hand moves over the curve of my ass as he positions himself behind me. “So fucking wet already,” his voice echoed a smirk as he traces his finger slowly along my slit.  “Your pussy missed me too huh?” I start to speak again, tell him to shut up but his tongue slides inside me and his thumb dances over my clit causing me to forget all other words except, “Oh fuck.” He alternates between his tongue and fingers in their assault of my cunt.  Causing me to see stars.  He wraps his arms around my thighs as I start to shake, continuing to devour me as I let go. His lips move up my body followed by his hands, he kisses my shoulder as his hands cup my breasts and pulls me back to his chest. 

“Jee-sus,” he grinds his hips against me. I let out a disappointed groan feeling his jeans rubbing against me instead of flesh.  My eyes dark as I turn my face to him, “Why are your pants still on?” 

“That is a good fucking question,” his hand slides over my stomach, middle finger toying with my clit, causing me to squirm at the overstimulation. His lips ghosted over my neck and I let out a groan hearing his zipper lower, “Is that what you want, baby?” His cock slides between my lower lips tickling my clit with the head. 

"You know what I want, " I purr moving with him. 

"Oh I fucking know baby, " he lines himself up with my entrance. The tip of his cock slipping slowly inside.  Slowly he slides deeper. He kept one hand on my hip, the other hand cupping my breast holding me tight to his chest, as he drives hard bottoming out inside me. His hand moves to cover my mouth as I start to cry out. "Fuck if hearing you scream while my cock is inside you isn't the hottest fucking thing ever, " he says, "I can't have anyone else knowing I'm back yet." He smirks against my ear pumping hard again. I bite down on my lip to quiet my moans. 

I drop down on the bed, supporting myself on my elbows, his fingers dig in my hips, he thrusts hard and fast chasing his release. My walls pulse around him, syncing their rhythm with each thrust. "That pussy is hungry for it?” he grunts out his words, “I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” He slams into me a final time his cock twitching as he fills me with hot thick ropes of cum. 

A satisfied smile tugs across my lips as we collapsed on the bed together, “I needed that.” I turn to face him, “You put everything in perspective.”

“My cock is fucking magical,” he smirks. 

“Well, that,” I rest my hand on his face, searching the depths of his hazel eyes, “and that you’re here with me. I was scared that what Simon said was true or worse.” 

“What did Simon say?” he arches his brow as his hand toys with my breast. 

“He said I was ‘damaged goods’,” I tell him, “I know if we get caught up in shit it’s up to us to get out of it. But this was different. He didn’t give a shit if the bullets he was flinging hit us or them.” 

“That was not part of the goddamn plan,” he said, “don’t worry baby.  I’ve got plans for Simon.” 

“Those people, at Hilltop,” I yawn now feeling the weariness in my body from no real sleep in the last few days, “don’t kill any more of them than you have to, OK?”

“You let me worry about that, baby,” his fingers comb through my hair, “you sleep.” “

----------

“Negan?” I reach my hand out finding his side of the bed empty. My eyes open and I look around finding him gone.  My heart pounded in my chest, I was terrified he was gone. I scoop up my clothes and dress quickly. I relax when I hear the sound of the toilet flushing in the bathroom. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks when he comes out of the bathroom, buckling his belt as he walks. 

“I thought,” I shake my head at myself, “I thought you were gone again.”

“I didn’t think watching me take a shit was a kink you enjoyed,” his lips curve into a smirk, “I can keep that in mind next time.” 

“As appealing as that sounds,” I smile up at him, arms sliding around his waist, “I’ll pass. There are still some things that should remain a mystery.” I step up on my toes and peck his lips, “What’s the plan for today?”

“I think it’s time we announce our triumphant return,” he slips on his glove and picks up his bat, “I shall shock the shit out of Dwighty boy. And I’ll give you the honor of paying a visit to my second.”  I give a nod in agreement. There were so many things I wanted to say to Simon.  Most of them end with a fist or a gun to the face. 

I step out of Negan’s room, feeling his eyes follow me as I head down the hall in the direction of Simon’s room. I glance back catching his eyes before he starts walking in the other direction. I give a smile, I could never get enough of Negan’s eyes on me. Or well his everything on me. But I had a job to do. 

I pause watching as Simon’s door opens and closes, Gregory steps out and scurries down the hall.  Of course, that spineless ameba would have slithered his way back here.

 “I’m so glad you made it back safely,” I watch as Simon freezes catching a glimpse of me, “Negan wants a meeting in the conference room,” his jaw practically drops.  I push down the urge to grin, “he wants an assessment of all the ‘damaged goods’.”

“Right away,” he turns back on the big dick energy he had always been known for, though this time it seemed a little limp.  

I felt a little exhilarated as I took a seat in the conference room. It was the first time I had a seat at the table. The men Negan could trust had just been dropped by two, and glancing around the room. I wasn’t sure who else among them would turn Judas. 

“I thought they killed you and they were gone,” Simon reasoned, “I lacked discipline. And made it personal. So I moved things from infection to extermination. I fucked up. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“I remember when I took this place,” Negan strokes his bat before standing, “When /you/ helped me take this place, I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep you on board. Before the system I put in place, you killed all those men and boys in that settlement so long ago, a lot of people would have thought that is some fucking psychotic shit. The work a demented goddamn gual. But I kept you, everything seemed to work out right up to this point,” Negan moves around the table, standing behind Simon, “I’m gonna need you on your knees.”   

I glance across the table to Arat then back to Simon as he looks like he’s about to piss himself. 

“You gonna make a move?” Negan curls his fingers around Lucille. I’d never seen him use her to her full potential before. I swallowed back the churning sensation in my stomach. 

“No move to make,” Simon accepted his fate.  Negan pulls the bat to his shoulder ready to swing but stops.

“All is forgiven,” Negan states, “We’re good.” I bite back my words. Though my face flushed red. I was pissed.  This man had left me for dead and Negan was just gonna let that shit slide. Negan’s eyes met mine.  He had a plan.  I should have known, he always had a plan. 

DJ lays a map out and Negan reviews the plan to set up new staging posts for the Hilltop.  To keep them in their place.  Starve them into submission. I listen trying not to react. I hoped this plan would keep our people, both here and still prisoners at Hilltop, alive. 

“Clear out,” he says.  I scoot the chair from the table, pausing as everyone else files from the door. He lifts his eyes to me, “I’ll see you /real/ soon, gotta have a chat with my boy, D.” 

“What the fuck going on?” I ask as Negan swings the door open to his room.

“I’m disappointed, baby,” he tilts my head up to lock my gaze with his, “no fucking kiss hello before laying into me.”

“I’m sorry,” my hands cup his face, and I step up on my toes, “it doesn’t stop with one kiss though. I kiss you and then your dick is inside me and I have no answers.”  He grabs a handful of my ass, “You like my dick inside you.” 

“I’m not debating that. You use your dick to shut me up,” I settle back on my feet, “what are you gonna do with Simon and Dwight?”

“I’m gonna handle shit the way I fucking handle it,” he says then steps away from me, “don’t worry about it.”

“He’s gonna make some kind of play,” I tell him, “so don’t tell me what to worry about. That mother fucker got our people killed.  Almost got me killed. I can’t let him get you killed.”

“Baby,” he keeps his voice even, “you trust me?”

“More than anyone,” I respond.

“Then believe me when I say I will handle my shit,” he raises Lucille to rest on his shoulder, “I’m waiting on my number two to fuck himself before I end him.”

“What are you gonna do?” I ask. 

“Just stand back and watch the fucking show,” Negan’s lips curve into a smirk, “get your pistol it’s about time for me to interrupt a super-secret meeting.”

I holster my weapon and follow him from the room.  I stay back listening with him at the door, Arat, DJ and several others stand to wait, listening to the backstabbing words coming from Simon.  We hang back as Negan steps out, whistling to catch the attention of the Judases below.  

“Thank you, D,” I heard Negan say before counting down, “Three… two... one.”  The rest of us step out firing shots.  Taking out everyone but Dwight, Gregory, and Simon. Arat holds the barrel of her pistol to the base of Simon’s head as I pull his weapons.  

“Getting fucked over isn’t as fun as you thought,” I glare at him. Simon charges at Dwight as DJ and another guy grab him to hold him back.

“There’s the Simon I know,” Negan states, “He comes right at you instead of that backstabby bullshit.”  Negan’s eyes narrow, “You killed all the garbage people, Simon.  After I specifically told you /not/ to do that shit. But after all this and me being me I’m still gonna give you your shot. You want to be the man you gotta beat the man. If you can do that then fuck, you should /be/ the man.” 

I feel the tension so thick between the men it could be cut with a knife.  We file into the furnace room.  I clench my fist to keep from reaching out to Negan.  He didn’t need me, not in this.  It would only make him look weak.  Or me desperate.  

“Hold my baby,” Negan smirks as he hands me Lucille, “Baby.” 

“Everyone,” Simon announces smugly, “After this is done, we get to work. I didn’t want this. But the Sanctuary must stand. I just wanted to say…” He stops his monolog to cold clock Negan in his face.  No one moves, no one speaks, as fists collide into flesh.  The only sound was the grunts of the two men.  The fight was evenly matched.  But I kept my face stoic.  My hand squeezed tight around the grip of Lucille. Heart thumping in my chest but my face didn’t reveal anything.  Not until Negan held Simon down, his hands tight around the man’s throat.

“You went for it all at Hilltop,” Negan says between clenched teeth, “you got Saviors killed. Left my girl for dead.  Then you ran the fuck away like a fucking coward.  You got shown up one too many times. They’re gonna always try to push back.  Now I gotta kill all of ‘em.  Just like I gotta kill you.” My eyes squeeze shut as I hear Simon’s windpipe crunch.  No one else moves.  “What an asshole.” 

I open my eyes when Negan rests his hand on mine, taking Lucille from me, he leans in, his lips dance over my ear as he spoke, “I left a surprise for you in your apartment. Meet me there.” I nod, “Alright.” 

I swing the door open to my apartment, “Well shit,” I grin, “I thought you were dead.” 

“Almost was,” Laura stands and gives me a hug, then looks around my room, “Nice digs. Been really enjoying that cushy mattress.” 

“Glad someone has got to use it,” I take a seat next to her.  

“Come in,” I say after hearing a tap at the door.  Negan swings the door open, Dwight standing beside him.  His face stark white as he stares at Laura.  

“You look surprised, Dwight,” Negan says, “Laura, why don’t you tell D what you told me?’

“Oh, how he turned on us that night in Alexandria?” she stands to stare him down, “Killing our team. Or how he left me for dead? I kept running. Hoping I’d be able to expose you for the skum you are.”

 “You are a nobody in way over your head,” Negan tells him, “But when I told you that you would come through for me when I needed it, I meant that shit 110%. I knew I could count on you to deliver my brilliant, if I may say so my fucking self, fake-ass fucking plan to Rick. Rick and the piss patrol are gonna walk right into the line of fire.  All thanks to my new right-hand man.” Negan stands over him, “I thought about killing you too.  But that’s too fucking good for a backstabbing, double-crossing dirtbag such as yourself. No, Dwighty boy, I got plans for you.” Negan gives a nod to his guys as he moves to drape his arm around my shoulders as he leads me from the room.  The men grab Dwight and drag him in the opposite direction.

#jdm #negan #negan smut #negan's thirst squad #twd #twd negan

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Favourite Gal: Part 4 A Bucky x Reader Mobster AU Fic

A mob!Bucky x Reader fic

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

The reader begins working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little does she realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with it’s quirks as the reader is slowly pulled into the mobster life. Warnings: Romantic fluff, a bit of violence, mentions of a creepy man. 90% of this is pure fluff. 

Word count: Approx 7500 oops.

GOOD LORD. Okay, this chapter ended up going to places I didn’t expect, please enjoy the rollercoaster that this chapter is. I didn’t mean to make it so dramatic... It just happened okay? Also, please excuse any mistakes, I tried my best to edit this but it’s a bit of a monster of a chapter!

Thank you for all the lovely messages and support! 💕

___________________________

You wake slowly to the sound of chirping birds. You open your eyes and see the rays of sunlight casting through the curtains. Shifting a little, you realise you're in bed and Bucky must have brought you there last night. You let out a yawn and rub your eyes, revelling in the calm for moment before you force yourself out of bed. Entering the main room, Bucky is sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee and quickly sees you walking towards him, still with your fresh bed head. "Morning sugar." Bucky grins before getting up and moving over to envelope you in an embrace. You mutter a good morning into his chest and Bucky parts with you to pour you a cup of coffee. "You alright, sweetheart?" Bucky asks, slinging his arm around you as he hands you a mug of coffee. "Yeah." You mutter. Yesterday's events are still fresh in your mind, but you had begun to come to terms with it all. "I was thinkin' we could have that picnic you wanted tonight." Bucky suggests, looking down at you, his soft blue eyes trailing over your face. A light blush forms on your cheeks and you smile up at him. "We can?" You beam. "Yeah sugar, besides I think we both need a little cheering up." Bucky squeezes you as to take in a look sip of your coffee.

 It was a couple of hours later that you and Bucky silently sat around the dining table. You had a fire going in the living room and you both sat with warm drinks. "Jesus. Where do I start?" Bucky sighs, looking down at his mug. You wait patiently for him to begin. "It all started when I inherited the family business from my father. He'd included me with a few things before but this was a big step. When my parents passed, I had to learn fast how to take over the business." Bucky explained, watching you take a mouthful of your drink. "I'd known Steve nearly my whole life. We've always been like brothers. I think we always will be, so we partnered up. He was in the same business, but not doing as strongly, so we figured we'd merge." Bucky spoke, smiling at the mention of his friend and paused to take a drink. "The gang that attacked us yesterday is called Hydra. They've been a threat since my early days in the mob. They are constantly trying to take control of New York, but I can't let them do that, not just because it's my territory, it's how I keep the crime low, if Hydra got in they'd spread like a deadly virus and the place would turn into goddamn Gotham, like in the comics." You saw Bucky's metal hand clench and unclench. The metal plates shifting a whirring as he spoke. "I'm almost a hundred percent sure they went after you to use as leverage or something, perhaps an attempt to take over a part of New York. Makes me wonder how much they were watching to know we were around each other." Bucky thought out loud. His pondering thoughts made you frown and you locked eyes with him. "If we want to get rid of them, we need to outsmart them, show them you aren't a force to be reckoned with." You spoke darkly, your voice is low and quiet. Bucky gave you a look of surprise and nodded slightly. "Do you and Steve have any plans?" You ask. "Not yet, sweetheart." Bucky replies as you lift you mug to your lips.

 “They seem to always be one step ahead, like they know what we’re up to.” Bucky sighed. You shifted in your seat and frowned at him. “Think they could be listening in or something?” You ask. Bucky hums a reply, scratching his stubble for a moment before locking eyes with you. “It’s a possibility.” He nods. “Perhaps it’s worth moving your dinners elsewhere?” You suggest, it’s the only place other than his actual house that he regularly frequents, but as you’ve been told by Bucky, he refuses to speak business in his home. “Our dinners, doll.” Bucky corrects you, smirking at you. “I only started eating there regularly to see you, (Y/n).” Bucky informs you. “All this time I just thought it was your favourite club.” You let out a giggle. “A favourite of mine is there, but it ain’t the club sugar.” Bucky winks at you and you can feel yourself blushing almost immediately. “Joking aside, sweetheart, maybe you’re right. Maybe we should move our dinners somewhere else.” Bucky reaches across the table and takes your hand. “Just to be safe.” He smiles down at you, a smile that your mirror as you melt in his gaze.

 The day goes by quickly, the pair of you mostly relaxing since you have little else to do. Bucky takes a few phone calls throughout the afternoon, mostly from Steve updating him on things at home. You and Bucky were set to drive home the following day and you were glad to hear that Clint and Scott were fine and recovering in hospital. You’d be lying if you hadn’t grown fond of those two and their humorous antics.

 You and Bucky sat outside as the sun began to set through the trees. You were seated cross legged on a large woollen blanket around the back of the cabin with Bucky sat next to you. The pair of you had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and you revelled in the warmth that radiated off Bucky. The crisp autumnal air left a chill down your spine and you cuddled into Bucky’s side a bit more. Bucky handed you some of the food you two had put together and you sat in a calm silence while you ate.

 “You know, I thought you’d be scared of me when we first met.” Bucky broke the silence. “Oh, so I hid it well?” You joked, giving him a goofy smile in response. “I’ll be honest, I did find you intimidating for, like, five minutes but then you went all soft on me. My big, intimidating, scary King of New York, Bucky Barnes is really just a big softie and I couldn’t be happier that you’re not afraid to show me that side of yourself.” You rested your head on his shoulder before taking another bite from your food. You heard Bucky let out a huff of a laugh and he turned to gently kiss your forehead. “Can’t help myself doll, you’re just too good for this world, so sweet and kind and cute. Never thought of myself with someone like you, not because I didn’t want it, I did. I just didn’t think someone like you would want to stick around for the long run. Most of my friends have wives they practically chuck money at to keep happy.” Bucky laughs to himself. You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments as you try to nuzzle further into Bucky’s side, even though you know it’s impossible to move much closer.

 “Are- are we a thing?” You ask, realising he’d spoken about you in relation to his friend’s wives. Bucky sets down his nearly empty plate and you do the same, turning to face one another. “I didn’t want to put a label on it without asking.” He replies simply. “Then ask me.” You can feel yourself blush, and you look up at Bucky, who nervously bites his lip. Smiling he looks down at you, his gaze flitting between your eyes and your lips, taking in your features and admiring the blush on your cheeks. Taking in a deep, slow breath, his eyes never leaving yours, Bucky leans towards you a bit. “Will you be my gal, (Y/n)?” Bucky asks, taking both of your hands in his and squeezing gently. “Absolutely.” You grin at him and he reaches forwards, his hands grabbing at your waist as he leans in, his breath fanning on your face as you both stare into one another’s eyes. Your eyes become hooded as you glance down at his lips and you allow him to slowly move in, his eyes closing more and more as he gets closer. His nose brushes up against yours as you tilt your head slightly and his grip around your waist becomes a bit more relaxed. Your lips finally touch and excitement rushes through you. His lips are soft and plump and good lord you feel absolutely heavenly under his touch. You begin to move your lips and your kiss deepens, the only sound you can hear is your laboured breaths as Bucky gently tugs your hips closer. His hand travels up your back and cradles your head, his fingers winding into your hair as the kiss becomes more intense. Your hands slide across his chest and over his shoulders, meeting behind his neck as you pull yourself even closer to him. Bucky’s hand trails down to your hip and you let out a whimper. Bucky growls slightly into the kiss in response, his grip becoming firm, but still loving and gentle.

 You eventually break the kiss and you both lock eyes. Bucky’s long hair looks a little dishevelled from falling out from behind his ear. His pupils are dilated with excitement as he trails his gaze down your body, taking you all in. You can’t find any words to possibly fill the silence, so you allow it to stay that way, watching the way he savours every feature and appreciates the way he’s affected you. You can still taste him on you lips, the tingle of his lips remains and you just wish you could feel them on yours again. He sees you looking at him pleadingly and Bucky lets his hands travel up your back again, one resting on the small of your back and the other travels slowly towards the nape of your neck as he moves in to kiss you again. His soft lips are on yours again and you let him gently lay you down beneath him onto the blanket below you both. Deepening the kiss, Bucky hovers over the top of you before resting his weight to the side and pulling you as close as he possibly can. His tongue gently asks for entry as he slips it over your bottom lip, eliciting a little whine from you. You part your lips slightly for him and Bucky grips you tightly, rolling onto his back and resting you on top of him, your delicate hands resting gently on his large, muscled chest. You feel him groan, a deep rumble vibrating below you through his chest and the vibration send shivers down your spine. You feel your hair falling into your face but Bucky is quick to catch it between his fingers and comb it out of your face as his hand moves back to cradle your head.

 Parting again you feel the heat creeping onto your cheeks and you let out a breathy giggle, smiling down at Bucky. “You really are something else.” He speaks quietly, his voice rumbles through his chest and the low octave of his tone melts you completely. You lay down next to Bucky and he pulls the blanket over you both, wrapping his arms around you lovingly as you move closer, resting your head on his chest as you both look up at the stars.

 Eventually you feel yourself getting tired, struggling to keep your eyes open as you melt into Bucky’s embrace. “Time to go indoors?” He pipes up, listening to you yawn for what felt like the hundredth time. You sleepily nod and he chuckles, sitting up and getting to his feet before helping you up. You instantly move to be close to him and Bucky lets out a breathy laugh, squeezing you around your middle gently. “You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.” He kisses your temple before gently moving you off the blanket to clear up your picnic. “Go inside, sweetheart, I’ll join you in a minute.” Bucky tells you, collecting the plates together. You nod and sleepily make your way to the cabin and push open the front door, making your way into the living space and heading straight to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

 You hear Bucky come into the house, the clinking of plates as he places them in the sink, washing the off slightly and you hear him shuffle around, likely locking up the cabin for the night. You finish up brushing your teeth and head to the bedroom. You pause in the hallway, your hand on the bedroom doorknob as you watch Bucky laying out blankets on the sofa. “What are you doing?” You ask, your voice coming out far quieter than you meant it to. “Setting up my spot.” Bucky replies, not turning to look at you. “I’m your girl now, we can share.” You nod your head towards the bedroom when he glances across at you. You smile to yourself about how nice it feels to say you’re his girl. Bucky’s girl. He pauses his movements of adjusting the blankets and smiles at you. “You sure, doll?” He asks, his voice is soft and quiet as he moves away from the sofa. “Yeah, I want to sleep next to you, please?” You flutter your lashes, looking at him with pleading eyes. Bucky chuckles and crosses the floor to join you, placing his hands on your waist as you smile up at him and open the door, letting you both into the bedroom. “How could I ever say no to you? Get in bed, sweetheart, I’ll get ready.” He presses a gentle kiss to your head and you shuffle over to the bed, sliding in and letting yourself relax against the plush mattress. Your eyes close and before you can even try to stop yourself, you’re out like a light before Bucky’s even joined you.

 You wake to the feeling of gentle kisses being pressed to your head and upper part of your face. Stirring slightly, you stretch out your legs and take in a deep breath, reaching up to rub your eyes. “Morning sweetheart.” Bucky’s voice is sleepy and deeper and more rough than usual but the sound of it, rumbling against you through his chest does things to you. “Morning.” You manage to get out, your voice considerably less sexy. “We need to get going soon, sugar.” Bucky announced. “Already? But I like it here.” You protest, wrapping your arm around his middle as he shifts to get up in an attempt to stop him. Bucky laughs and carefully pries your hands off him and turns to face you, bending over to look at you. “As much as I would really, really love to lay in bed for longer and cuddle you all day, which I could absolutely get used to, we need to be leaving soon.” Bucky gives you a tight lipped smile and you nod, knowing he likely wouldn’t stop you from cuddling him if it wasn’t serious. You begin to get up and slide out of bed, sleepily stepping over to Bucky’s side at the dresser and pulling out one of the tops on the shelf. The wardrobe was ordered in size to cater for whoever was using the safehouse. You pulled out the leggings you had totally not stolen, hoping you would at least be able to wear them for one more day because they were so comfy.

 After getting dressed, having a cup of coffee each and a bite to eat, you gathered together your belongings and you both made your way out to the SUV. You had taken the deep red hoodie you had seen Bucky wear the day before that he had left on the back of the sofa with the intention that the house cleaner would wash it and put it back, but you obviously had other ideas, enjoying the spicy, woody scent of his cologne that was now present on the fabric.

 Settling into the passenger seat, you watched as Bucky started up the SUV and you reached forwards, turning on the stereo and relaxing back into the plush leather seat. “Can we come back some time? I know it’s a safehouse but-.” Bucky’s chuckle made you cut yourself off and he smiled across at you as he reversed the car. “Of course we can sugar. You just tell me when.” He reached over and ran his thumb over your hand before retracting his hand to put the car into drive and swinging the SUV around onto the dirt track.

 You drove for a few hours; the journey was comfortable and you were content with just listening to music and chatting occasionally. “Can we go and see Clint and Scott when we get back? I want to make sure they’re okay.” You ask, the city coming into view. “I gotta take care of some business, sugar, but you know what? I’ll get Sam to take you.” He replied, smiling across at you. “It’s sweet that you want to see them, doll, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the company.” Bucky grinned. “Also, we aren’t going to the club tonight, we’re dining somewhere else.” Bucky informs you. “Oh? Are you seeing clients? Do I need to be formal?” You wonder, eyes glued to the road ahead of your as you watch the city grow around you. “No, sweetheart, you aren’t our waitress, you’re dining with us.” He says it like it was obvious and you smile to yourself. “Ah, I’m moving up in the world.” You joked, earning a chuckle from him. “But we are seeing a client this evening, so you might wanna dress real fancy again.” He nudged you throwing you a smirk. “Oh you’ll enjoy that, won’t you?” You tease, giggling softly. “God, you have no idea.” Bucky shakes his head affectionately.

 Bucky drives you through the city and up into a beautiful housing district. Eventually you reach a gated estate, the one you assumed to be the house he’d inherited from his father. The gates opened after a moment of waiting and he drove you up the long gravel driveway to the old 1920s style house. “Wow, your house is even prettier than I imagined.” You gasped, seeing the house come into full view. Bucky pulled up outside and slid out, handing the key to someone to take the car to the garage for him. You hopped out before Bucky could come and help you out and he waited for you to join him. “How about after dinner tonight, we come back here and I can show you around?” Bucky suggests, smirking playfully and leaning towards you, his arms gently snaking around your waist. “You’d only show me as far as your bedroom.” You joke, poking him in the side. Bucky lets out a laugh and pulls you closer. “Can you blame me? You look so good, especially when you get all dressed up.” He flirts, leaning in closer to you. You stand on your toes and reach up to press your lips to his, his embrace is strong around your back and you feel so safe and loved in his arms as his lips move against yours.

 You pull away when Bucky notices Sam pulling up in his sleek black sports car. You decide you have time to get one more kiss out of Bucky before giving him a tight squeeze and moving to get in the car with Sam, glancing back at Bucky and giving him a little wave. Settling into the passenger seat, you look across at Sam, who is staring at you with a knowing smile. “You a thing now?” He questions, pointing lazily between you and Bucky, who is stood waiting in the driveway. “As a matter of fact, we are.” You smile, putting on your seatbelt. “About time!” Sam exclaims. He turns the car in the driveway, heading back out of the estate and you see Bucky going back into the house now that he’s seen you off. “So when did that happen?” Sam asks, nudging you in the side as he wait for the gates the open. “At the safehouse, yesterday.” You reply simply, knowing he’s just going to dig for gossip anyway. Sam mocks surprise, taking in an exaggerated gasp. “Did you do anything else?” He wiggles his brows at you, laughing to himself as you round the corner. “We kissed.” You couldn’t contain your smile at the thought of it. “That all?” Sam jabs, sounding disappointed. “We also slept together, well not slept as in- I mean we shared a bed. Together. We didn’t sleep together though.” You awkwardly fumbled with your words, Sam laughing heartily at your flustered expense. Christ why did Sam have to ask that? You probably sound like you’re hiding something now. You shake your head slightly in an effort to get the embarrassment out of your head.

 “Me and Rogers have been working on getting things sorted. The police accepted the statement we made about what happened, so don’t worry about that. Clint and Scott kept asking if you were okay. We haven’t told them what you had to do, weren’t sure how you wanted to go about it.” Sam explained. “I can tell them if you don’t want to, I know it’s probably tough for you to talk about it right now.” Sam glanced over at you as he drove down a road, following signs to the hospital. “I’ll do it.” You reply simply, your voice was confident though. “You sure?” He asks, concern in his tone. “I’m in this now, for the long run, Sam. I have to accept what happened.” You assure him, looking across at him while he kept his eyes on the road.

 Eventually Sam pulls into the visitor car park of the hospital. He backs into a space and helps you out of his car. Going from a high up SUV to a low sports car was a bit of a weird feeling. You walked along side him as you made your way up to the front doors. “How extensive were their injuries?” You question Sam. “Clint took the worst of the hit, he has a few broken bones, whiplash and some minor injuries. Scott hit his head in the crash and that knocked him out, his has a couple of fractured bones too, but nowhere near as bad as Clint.” Sam briefly explained as you entered through the sliding doors into the hospital reception.

 A nurse escorted you both down to a room where both of them were being kept, as per request of Steve. Sam insisted on waiting outside of the room on the hallway bench while you saw them. Taking in a deep breath, you turned the handle and opened the door, both men’s attention was immediately on you. “(Y/n)!” Clint cried. “Thank Christ you’re both alright.” You heaved a sigh, closing the door behind you before you walked in further to sit with them. “How are you both feeling?” You ask, feeling awkward as you scanned the room for a spot to sit. “I’ve been better.” Clint chuckled, as per usual he seemed to be taking everything very light heartedly. Scott reached forwards and patted the edge of his bed, beckoning you to perch there instead of just standing in the middle.

 Sitting down, you made sure you weren’t going to accidentally hurt Scott somehow and you smiled down at him. “How are you, (Y/n)? We heard something happened.” Scott asked, concern lacing his voice. “Yeah, damn Rogers kept telling us we had to wait.” Clint rolled his eyes. Both men stopped and watched you as you nervously looked between the two of them, swallowing thickly. “The men that crashed our car,” you began, flicking eye contact between the pair of them. “I shot them. Both of them. I killed them.” You breathed it out, only slightly above a whisper, but both men heard you loud and clear. It was almost painful to admit to it, but as soon as it was out, you felt the weight lift from your shoulders. Scott gaped at you and Clint shifted, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. “Jesus Christ, (Y/n), I’m so sorry.” Clint was the first to respond. “I had to, they were coming for me, they could have killed you, I couldn’t let them do that.” You choked out, realising you were on the edge of breaking down again. Scott didn’t say anything and Clint fell silent as they waited for you to continue. “Steve worked it out with the police, so I’ve been left well alone by them.” You explained. “Bucky took me to a safehouse a few hours out. We laid low for a few days, worked things out, I’m coming to terms with it.” You nod as if reassuring yourself. You certainly weren’t fooling Scott with your confidence talk though, because he sat up straight, raised a brow and shook his head slightly. “Are you really, though?” He questioned you, much like a dad would a child. You took in a deep breath and face him. “I’m trying to. I need to.” You replied, looking across at Clint.

 “What are you going to do now?” Clint asked. “Just keep on doing what I was doing before.” You shuffled about, looking down at your hands. “Probably won’t be waitressing for you anymore though.” You add, not realising how that sounded like you were going away. “You’re leaving?!” Scott exclaimed, evident panic in his tone. “You can’t leave!” He cried, reaching for your hand. Your first reaction was to laugh, mostly at yourself for how stupid you just were to make them think that, Christ, you really couldn’t have said that any worse, could you? “No, no, no, I’m not leaving, I promise. I’m not waitressing anymore because Bucky and I got together.” You clarified. Both men looked at each other and then back at you. “Shit (Y/n), don’t scare me like that!” Clint crossed his arms over his chest dramatically. “Wait, so you and Barnes, huh?” Clint’s features instantly softened. Scott grumbled beside you “Finally, maybe he’ll stop talking my ear off about you whenever I drive him somewhere without you.” Scott groaned, earning a giggle from you. Scott beamed at you, squeezing your hand before letting go, satisfied that he’d managed to get that sweet giggle out of you.

 You looked happy and both men acted like proud brothers, congratulating you and joking about how they’d find a way to beat up Bucky if he ever hurt you, but they knew Bucky would never ever hurt you in any way. “God, that man practically worships the ground you walk on, (Y/n).” Clint said, over dramatically. You laughed at his comment, a blush making itself apparent on your cheeks. “Tell me about it.” Scott groaned, even more dramatically than Clint. “Every time I had to drive him around, I have to spend the entire time having to drown out his running commentary about everything he noticed you say and do when he last saw you.” Scott jabbed you in the side playfully. You grinned at him and laughed at their antics; glad the two goofs were still just as carefree as they were before the attack.

 You eventually parted with Scott and Clint, sufficiently pleased that they were both doing well and had ample time to catch up with them both. Sam dropped you off at your apartment, assuring you that he, Bucky and Steve would come and pick you up as usual for dinner that evening.

 Heading up to your apartment, you had a couple of hours before you were getting picked back up again, so you took some time to clean up your flat as much as possible and then getting ready for the evening, making sure to pick out a nice dress to distract Bucky with. He had a tendency to wear blue suits, so you decided to wear a similarly coloured dress in navy blue. It had a plunging neckline, giving you just the right amount of cleavage and it was short enough to be sexy without it being too short.

 A knock at the door came and you opened up the door to see Bucky dressed in his dark blue suit, although it wasn’t quite as dark as your navy dress. “Damn, sugar, you look gorgeous.” Bucky greeted you, immediately blown away by your appearance. You beamed at him and reached up to steal a kiss from his lips. “Come on, doll, let’s get going, we don’t want to be late for our client.” He rushed you along, down to the car that was waiting outside. Once you approached the car, Steve hopped out to help you in, stopping to give you a quick hug. “Buck told me that you two got together, I’m so happy for you both.” Steve squeezed you tightly and let go to open the door for you. You flashed him a grin and thanked him.

 “Alright, sweetheart, our client this evening is called Mr Rumlow. Seems decent enough. All you gotta do it sit with me, look pretty and tell me if anything sees off.” Bucky informs you in the back of the car as you approach the restaurant. “And for Christ sake, don’t go close enough that he can see, y’know.” Bucky nodded to your exposed cleavage and you giggled. “Why is it too distracting?” You ask teasingly. Bucky chuckles and shake his head. “Nah, doll, you can wear whatever the hell you want, just don’t like other blokes looking as my favourite gal, is all.” Bucky gave you his signature lopsided smile.

 Entering the restaurant, hanging off Bucky’s arm, you were escorted through to a private dining room where Mr Rumlow was already waiting with a glass of whisky in his hands. “Rumlow.” Bucky greeted him, holding out his hand to shake. “Barnes.” He reciprocated. “This is Mr Rogers.” Bucky introduced Steve, Rumlow moved to shake his hand. “And this lovely little thing.” Rumlow winked at you, stalking closer to you. “This is (Y/n).” Bucky’s back stiffened when he saw the way Rumlow eyed you like you were prey. Rumlow took your hand and kissed the back of it. Acting flirtatious and happy, you accepted his attention, trying your best to ignore the creepy vibes you got from this client.

 You sat mostly on Bucky’s right as you usually did when dining with him. Rumlow had a lady of the night with him but she was almost permanently perched on his lap, whispering sweet nothings to him now and again and trailing kisses down his neck. What made you undeniably uncomfortable, was how Rumlow’s attention was mostly on you. You felt a bit grossed out by his behaviour, it felt like he could see straight through your clothes. He looked at you with such hunger in his eyes, like he wanted to pull you away and have his way with you. So you decided to do what any other girl would do in your situation. You waited for a break in the conversation and Rumlow excused himself to visit the bathroom and you crawled your way onto Bucky’s lap, winding your around his neck. Bucky looked up at you, sheer adoration and love in his eyes when he looked at you. “What do you think so far, doll?” He asked quietly. You leant in to his ear as his hand trailed up your back. “He creeps me out.” You whisper. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You can leave if you want, I can have Sam take you home if you’re uncomfortable.” He suggested, and you smiled to yourself about how your wellbeing was noticeably so important to him. “No, no, it’s fine, just don’t like the way he looks at me.” You replied, holding onto him a bit tighter. “Alright, you say if you want to go home though doll, okay?” He reaffirms. You nod and smile down at him and flinch a little when Rumlow slams the door open and closed again, gripping tighter onto Bucky but trying your best to look as relaxed as possible.

 Bucky lets you stay on his lap, the arm he keeps around you makes you feel safer and more protected than when you were just sitting by yourself and the warmth that radiates off him adds to the calming effect he had on you. Further into the meeting, the conversation becomes more in depth about a possible deal between Rumlow and Bucky. “This isn’t was we discussed beforehand, Rumlow.” Steve interjected; he was starting to get agitated that Rumlow just kept adding things into the deal. “Perhaps we’ll just call off the deal.” Bucky says under his breath. “No! No, there’s no need to do that.” Rumlow replies. He seems far too hung up on this than a normal client would be. You lean in to Bucky and trail a few kisses across his cheek. “He’s nervous.” You whisper. Bucky doesn’t say anything but you know he’s heard you because when you pull away he gives you an agreeing look.

 Before he can do anything, you excuse yourself for the bathroom and Rumlow coughs, albeit a rather fake cough and apologises, saying he thinks he’s getting sick. Before you leave the room you chance look back at Bucky and Steve and hesitantly open the door. You clock two men dressed in black suits down the corridor talking between them but they haven’t seen you yet. Walking to the bathroom, you enter the room and see that two other women are in there, one of them is reapplying her lipstick while she talks to her friend who occupies a stall. You relieve yourself and wash your hands, the two girls still in the bathroom refreshing themselves. They start to leave, one exiting before the other. As you trail behind them, the first girl to leave lets out a gasp and you’re suddenly pushed back into the bathroom.

 The two men from the hallway file in and you grab your phone from your purse, fumbling to speed dial anyone. You click on Steve’s name in your panic before your phone is thrown from your hands as you’re tackled into the wall, the other two girls run out of the bathroom in panic as the second guy chases them down. Your see your phone dialling Steve out of the corner of your eye as you wriggle against your attacker. You hook your leg behind his and pull sharply, causing him to lose balance and fall to the floor, a fibre wire clattering on the tile next to him. You come down to his level and punch him in the throat. “You work for Rumlow don’t you?” You growl. He tries to get back up but you’re too quick. Reaching down, you grab the fibre wire he dropped, and wrap it around his throat, pulling tight enough to incapacitate him but not enough to strangle him completely. “Who does Rumlow work for?” You snarl in his ear, pulling his back up against you. You pull tight and release some of the tension. You hum in his ear as he struggles, trying to prompt him to answer you. “Heil Hydra.” He chokes out, sucking in one more breath. Hydra.

Steve rushes into the bathroom, his eyes wide as he locks onto your crouched form strangling the air out of your attacker. “(Y/n), let him go.” Steve instructs. You do as you’re told and release the fibre wire from around his neck but keep it in your hand. The man drops to the floor, gasping for air, you’d almost killed him. Steve rushes forward, putting the guy’s hands behind his back and bracing them there. “Rumlow works for Hydra.” You inform him, slightly breathless from your scuffle and you stand, brushing off your dress. “What?” Steve mouths silently. “Christ. Okay, go to Bucky, I’ll sort this guy out.” Steve looks at you, shocked. You pick up your phone, noticing the extremely smashed screen on it now from when you dropped it on the tiled floor.

 You smooth down your hair and try to look as presentable as possible before you go back into the private dining room. Rumlow clocks your arrival and turns to see you, a look of confusion crosses his features. “Sorry I took so long, gentlemen, the bathroom was out of order so I had to find somewhere else.” You make something up on the spot, but your unwavering smile and confident stride makes you hard to detect. You take your place on Bucky’s lap and rest your hand on his chest. “Have you seen Mr Rogers?” Rumlow asks. You look around and fake a reaction to Steve not being there. “No, sorry I didn’t even realise he’d left.” You shake your head. Rumlow seems to believe you and he turns his attention back to his trophy lady. You lean into Bucky and kiss his cheek. “He’s with Hydra.” You whisper. You feel Bucky tense underneath you. He doesn’t even hide the look of rage on his face when he looks up at Rumlow and back at you. He gives you a questioning look and you nod slightly. The prostitute Rumlow had hired got up from his lap, whispering in his ear one last time before vacating the room. Bucky heaves a sigh, leans into you and holds you tight, kissing up your neck. “Look away, sweetheart, let me hold you.” He whispers. You do as he says and look behind him, resting your head on his shoulder and look away. You feel him hold you tightly with his flesh hand. He moves slowly and carefully and you hear him carefully click the safety off his gun and in one swift movement, raises the barrel and fires a silenced shot right between Rumlow’s eyes. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut and cling to him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” Bucky holds onto you tightly, caressing your hair. “Please don’t be scared of me, (Y/n).” Bucky whispers. Your hands clutch at his shirt, balling it in your hands. “M’not scared.” You respond in a breathy half whisper. “Let’s get out of here, don’t look okay? I’ll guide you out of the room, alright? I don’t want you to see what I just did.” Bucky speaks into your hair and you nod.

 He helps you up and you keep your face buried in his chest. With his arms wrapped around you, he guides you through the room to the door and leads you to the corridor. “Let me call Sam. I need to take care of the mess in there before I can leave.” Bucky kisses your forehead. “I don’t think I want to be alone.” You squeak, your heart is beating like crazy as your anxiety spikes. “Hey, it’s alright, I said I’d take you to mine tonight, didn’t I? I’ll meet you a home, I promise.” Bucky reassures you. Sometimes you feel like a child with the amount of reassurance you need, but Bucky takes it all in his stride, he doesn’t seem to mind at all and treats you with such compassion and care. You hear the ringing through Bucky’s phone speaker, just loud enough to hear. “Yeah boss?” Sam pipes up on the other end. “Need you to come and get (Y/n), take her to mine.” Bucky instructs. “I need you to escort her out of the building, come to the private dining room at the back.” Bucky adds. “Right.” Sam responds, there’s some shuffling on the other end and then he hangs up. “Sam’s coming sweetheart, I’m sorry I can’t go with you right away.” Bucky pulls you into an embrace. “It’s okay.” You breath out. “Are you alright? I hope I didn’t scare you or anything?” He asks. “No, god, no, I’m just feeling paranoid. I got jumped in the bathroom by one of Rumlow’s men, I almost killed him until Steve intervened.” You say shakily. Bucky heaves a sigh. “Oh fuck, (Y/n), are you hurt? Will you be alright?” He asks, cradling you. “I’m okay, I got out of it fairly unscathed.” You talk into his chest, clutching at him tightly. “I didn’t give you a weapon.” He puzzles. “He dropped a fibre wire; it was very effective.” You say nonchalantly. “Jesus, (Y/n), what am I doing to you, you were so sweet and innocent a few months ago.” Bucky exclaims.

 You see Sam approaching from down the hall and Bucky gives you one last embrace before he pulls away, still blocking your view from the room and handing you over to Sam. “To yours then boss?” Sam asks. Bucky nods. “Thank you, Sam.” He pats him on the shoulder before seeing you off.

 You slide into the passenger seat of the SUV, ignoring Sam’s attempts to open the door for you. You just wanted to go home. Was this what life was going to be like now? Would you ever get used to this? You let out a shaky sigh and buckled you seatbelt while Sam got in the drivers seat. “What happened in there?” He asked, slamming the door shut. “Uh, long story.” You divert, leaning against the door. “You alright?” He asks, concerned. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You nodded and then change your mind and began to list off the details of the night to Sam, who gave you looks of shock and concern throughout the drive as he reacted to each part of the story you told. “Fuck, is my life going to be this dramatic from now on?” You ask. Sam huffs out a laugh. “Depends, once all this Hydra shit is over with, it’ll probably go back to the calm it was before the storm.” Sam Responded, driving you down the road to Bucky’s estate. As you waited for the gate to open, Sam reached across and patted your leg. “Please don’t feel like you can’t duck out, Bucky wouldn’t hold it against you.” Sam assures you. “I’m not ducking out, Sam.” You cross your arms. “I’m here to stay.” You smile a little, glancing over at him and he smirks. “Barnes was right, you are extremely stubborn.” He laughs, pulling the car into the driveway.

 You’re sitting alone in Bucky’s bedroom, a book in hand as you wait for him to come home. You don’t care that it’s past midnight, there’s no way you can sleep without knowing he’s back home. Your jumpiness and anxiety had calmed down considerably, but not entirely and you didn’t think it was likely to until Bucky was there.

 A little longer passes and you get into bed, wearing only your underwear and one of Bucky’s shirts your stole from his closet. The door clicks open and you jump at the sound, only to see Bucky stick his head through the doorway. “Hey, sweetheart.” He smiles at you. “I thought you’d be asleep.” He remarks, entering the room. He’s no longer wearing his suit and is wearing a deep red shirt with joggers. “I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t calm down enough.” You sigh. “Oh, sugar, I’m so sorry about tonight. God, it wasn’t supposed to go sideways like that.” He swallows thickly. Bucky approaches the bed, sitting on the edge and taking hold of you in his arms. “I’m so sorry you got put in danger again. I’m so sorry I had to…” Bucky interrupts himself and sighs into your hair. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” You reassure him, squeezing him tightly. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you?” He chuckles. You smile and move away to see him better. You push a lock of his hair behind his ear and drink in his handsome features. He hadn’t shaved in several days, so his usual long stubble was starting to turn into a beard. He looked so tired, so ready to rest for a while. “This might be terrifying, but I’m here for you. If that’s the price I pay for being with you, then I’ll do it.” You nuzzle into his chest and he takes you into his arms, pushing you back against the bed and hovering over you. “God, you are so stubborn. How did I get so lucky to have a girl that takes it all in her stride?” He smiles at you before capturing your lips in a slow, long kiss. “I’m so sorry though, doll. I don’t want you in situations like that again. I should have known better than you bring you along.” Bucky sighed. “If you hadn’t brought me along, I wouldn’t have found out Rumlow was Hydra.” You said matter-of-factly. “True.” He sighs. “Maybe just take some time to teach me how to protect myself more.” You suggest. “I don’t want you letting go of me or locking me up in your house to avoid me getting hurt, so you’re going to have to teach me to defend myself better.” You say confidently. “Yes ma’am. I might be the King of New York, but sometimes I feel like you’re the real ruler here.” He chuckles. “My queen.” Bucky murmurs, pulling you down into bed with him and you snuggle up against him and for a moment you feel the blissful calm as you settle down in his strong, protective arms, slipping into sleep again.

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Tags: 

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[connordavidscamera]

7 Years | Connor Brashier

A/n: This is a repost from my Shawn account!! This is my piece and is not stolen.

Summary: You and Connor have been together for a while now and it’s time to take that next step.

word count: about 2.8k

***

“I’m freaking out, man. What if she says no? What am I going to do then?” I run my hands messily through my hair as I pace back and forth in the mostly empty room. “I'm scared, Shawn. This could go so horribly wrong. I could say the wrong thing. I could say nothing at all. What if I drop the ring or something?” I groan, looking up to the sky, already worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.

“Con, calm down, bud. You need to - Brash, stop pacing.” his hands clap my shoulders, halting my movements. “Take a breath.” he takes a deep breath in through his nose, motioning for me to copy him. I do, or at least, I try to. “Good, okay. Now sit down because you're creating a path in the carpet.”

I nod and manage to sit down on the edge of the table nearest to us. “You’re right. I need to calm down.”

“You do. It’s just y/n, man. You’ve been together for seven years, she’d be crazy not to say yes to this.”

“But we’ve never really talked about this before. Like really talked.”

“What do you mean you’ve never talked about it?”

“Well, I mean, come on. Of course we’ve talked about it, but it was always in that blissful, teenage way. You know when you’re sixteen and talking about forever as if you know anything about it. It was never a serious conversation. At least I don’t think it was.”

“She wouldn’t be with you for this long if she wasn’t sure she saw a future with you. What’s freaking you out? Talk to me, man.”

I sigh, my head in my hands. “We started dating when we were thirteen years old. She was my first kiss, my first girlfriend, my first date, my first everything. That’s always been enough for me. Just having her as my one and only for everything. But what if this isn’t what she wants? What if marriage changes things for us? What if she doesn’t love me anymore after this? What if I’m not enough for her?”

“Connor, buddy, where is any of this coming from? You two are soulmates. Everyone knows that. You can’t possibly think that she would want to be with anyone else.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to ease my rampant mind. 

“I just don’t want to lose what’s us.” I say, thinking back to the day I asked her out on our first date. 

My palms are sweating as I make my way over to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life. The girl who I have been friends with for three years now. Her hair is in this high ponytail with a few strands of hair pulled out to frame her face, and she’s wearing a white v-neck shirt and black jeans. The only trace of makeup on her face is that minuscule amount of mascara she puts on daily, and this ultra shiny lip gloss - the one that makes her lips look bigger. 

Don’t ask me how I know that. (It’s definitely not because I stare at her lips when she talks to me sometimes and I know that her lips are always set in that perfect pout, whether she’s wearing lip gloss or not.) 

I must have cleared my throat a thousand times to keep it from shaking so badly, but it didn’t help because the second the words left my mouth, my voice cracked and shook and it was everything I never wanted this to be. But it worked nonetheless. “Would you - I uh,”  I cough. “Do you want to… g-go on a,” clear my throat again. Jesus, Connor, get it together. “Wouldyouliketogoonadatewithme?” I finally ask in one breath, not bothering to pause between words. 

She smiles then. And not just that half smile that she’s pretty much reserved for school - that smile that says, yeah I’m paying attention (even if her eyes never really reach the smile.) This is the smile that I’m used to seeing when we’re in one of our homes and we’re doing homework together. When she’s helping me with these films I’ve been making recently and I ask her to star in them. The smile is all teeth and her eyes are shining so bright, I think she might have stolen stars from the sky just to put them in these beautiful y/e/c eyes that are staring into my soul . “I’d like that very much.”

I know it doesn’t seem like much, but I was more nervous that day than any other day in my life. Even going on tour with Shawn wasn’t as nerve-wracking as going up to the love of your life at thirteen, knowing full well that she could say she doesn’t want you like that. That she only sees you as a friend. But I got lucky, I guess. No, I know I did. She just had to say one word to kill me fully, but she said yes and it was the greatest day of my life.

“What are you thinking about?” Brian asks. I don’t know when he came in, but he’s here now and his hands are on my shoulders, attempting to release the tension straining my muscles.

“I’m stressing.”

“About asking y/n to marry you? Why?”

“He thinks she’s going to say no.”

“After seven years?”

“That’s what I said,” Shawn sighs. 

“Come on, Brash. This is the easy part. If anything, the hardest part was probably asking her to sleep with you.”

I shrug, he’s not wrong. That was hard too, but I wasn’t the one to ask. 

Being together for three years, people think we’ve already slept together. And at this point in time, there’s really no point in telling them that we haven’t. They won’t believe us. But it’s not because we don’t want to - or not because I don’t, at least. Of course I do. But y/n doesn’t seem to be interested in it right now and I don’t want to push her. 

Which is why I pull away from her before we go toward the point of no return. I mean, we’re not saints, by any means, we’ve maybe kind of reached third base. (It’s hard to really say because we got a little drunk that night, and neither of us really remember much of that night. But we do know that we didn’t go all the way.) So when I hear her hum, the usual sign of protest, I pull my hands from under her shirt. But she whines then, bringing my hands back up to her chest, where - in my opinion - they naturally belong. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” I ask, tugging at her bottom lip.

She nods, letting out a sharp breath. “I want you, Connor.”

“I’m here.”

“No,” she pulls away, resting her weight on my thighs, seeing  as she’s straddling my waist. “I want you. Right now. I want… I want to have sex with you.”

I choked on my own spit. “Wait, really?”

She nods, “I want to experience it. And I want to experience it with you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Please?” she rests her forehead against mine. “Please, baby. I want to feel you.”

I moan at that statement. If she wants this, then fuck, I’ll give it to her. So I nod, “Yes. Yes, okay.” I take her head in my hands and connect our lips again, already flipping us around so I’m on top of her. 

“That wasn’t nearly as hard as this.”

“I’m still not quite understanding the big deal.”

“You try proposing to the girl you’ve spent nearly half your life with,” I snap unnecessarily, and shake my head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. Just… take a breath, Con. You have to calm down before you do anything, okay? You don’t want to be flustered when you ask. So, what’s making this hard? What are you scared of?”

Shawn sits next to me and nudges my shoulder. “Yeah, come on. It can’t just be because she’s pretty. Something is really bothering you about this. What is it?”

I feel my eyes start to water, but I push the tears away and clear my throat. “Did I ever tell you guys about how we almost broke up in the beginning of tour?”

“You what?” they ask in unison.

“It was hard, being away from her all that time.”

“Well yeah, but what does that -”

“We’d never been away from each other that long. A few weeks sure, but never months on end. It was never like this. We went to grade school together. We go to the same college. But then I started traveling constantly and it got hard. We fought all the time, it wasn’t good. We never fought that much. It got to a point where every phone call would result in a fight and then we just stopped calling, all together.”

I still remember that last fight we had. It was stupid, thinking back to it. She was sick and she didn’t really feel like talking because she had a headache. I was stressed and needed to hear her voice. That didn’t work out for either of us. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Con, I told you, I have a headache,” she sighs. “You know how bad they get.”

“But I need you.”

“And I’m here,” she coughs. It hurts my heart a little, but I don’t cave. 

“No you’re not.”

“Connor, don’t start.”

“Why not? You aren’t here, y/n! You always say shit like, ‘I’m always with you.’ But you’re not fucking here, and I miss you. It’s not fair.”

“You think I want this, Connor? You think I like being far away from you for so long? It’s hard for me too.”

“Really? Because you don’t even want to talk to me now.”

“I don’t feel good, you ass! And your tone is doing nothing for my headache.”

“Oh poor you. You have a headache. Y/n, I need to have this fucking project done by Friday night and the due date is right in the middle of the concert.”

“Then do it now? You can be doing it instead of calling me to complain. You chose to go on tour and still do your classes online. Don’t act like this is anyone else’s fault but your own.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“No! Actually I’m not. You chose to go on tour, I didn’t do that for you. So if you’re so stressed out, you can blame past you for thinking you would be able to handle all of this. I told you to think this through completely and you said you’d be fine, so I left it alone.”

“Why are you being like this right now? Jesus, you’re so goddamn irritating.”

“I’m irritating?” she repeats and her voice is full of hurt. “Wow, fuck you, Connor.”

“Y/n, wait. I didn’t mean that.” I say after I realize what I just said.

“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t. Don’t call me again. I’d hate to irritate you even further.” She says before hanging up.

“Y/n!” But the call ended. She wouldn’t talk to me for two weeks. In those two weeks I was completely unbearable to be around. I was snappy and rude and going through major withdrawals. Until I got so scared that she would leave that I had to fly back to Cali to apologize since she wouldn’t take my calls.

“I really did think I was going to lose her. I thought I ruined it for us being away and not being considerate. It’s just… I don’t ever want to feel that again, my heart was in my stomach and then my feet when I got back home and she didn’t instantly run into my arms. She wasn’t in my clothes. It was hell.”

“Okay, I get that… but you’re fine now, right?” Brian asks.

“Yeah, I just hate that I did that to her. I hate that I made her feel, even for a second, like she wasn’t fucking enough. That she was irritating. I don’t know how she forgave me or why, but she did and I am so, so grateful for that. It’s always gonna be there you know? That piece of me that says, ‘hey, it may have been a 7 year relationship with your best friend, but it can still end if you fuck up again.”

Shawn checks his phone and sighs, “Well the stage is ready, are you good? Do we need to cancel it?”

My phone rings and I nearly jump out of skin, pulling it out of my pocket. “It’s her,” I say and hurl myself off the table before answering.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I breathe out.

“Hey lover boy, where are you?”

“Shawn’s dressing room. I’ll come get you.”

“No need. I’m around the corner.”

“Oh?” I leave the room, and turn to the side in time to see my beautiful, lovely, wonderful, completely out of my league girlfriend walking around the corner, and I can’t help but smile. “There’s my pretty girl,” I say, and I can just feel myself losing all that hesitation that I had before. Because I’m looking at her and I can’t help but fall even more in love with her, and the ring that was feeling heavy in my pocket just moments ago doesn’t anymore.

Her arms wrap around my neck and I hold her waist tightly, breathing in her scent - that scent of home during fall, her usual pumpkin vanilla fragrance fills my nostrils. “Missed you, y/n/n.”

She hums, “It’s only been a week, Con.”

“That mean you didn’t miss me?” I pull away from her and furrow my brows, but I’m kidding, we both know that.

“Of course I did,” she answers and leans in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Always miss my baby Brash.”

I shake my head at the name. She never lets me live it down. But it’s kinda cute when she says it, so I’ll never take it from her. “You’re staring,” she boops my nose before falling back into me.

“Sorry,”  I whisper into her hair.

“Where are the guys?” she asks when we finally pull away.

I turn back to the dressing room and see that neither of them are in there, and I know exactly where they are now. “Um… they might be on stage. Let’s go see,” I take her hand and lead her down the long hall, to the stage where I know Shawn and the band are doing “soundcheck.”

I discreetly shoot Shawn a text, telling him we’re rounding the corner. And seconds later, they start playing Marry Me by Train. I peak over at her and see that she’s beaming. “It’s our song!” And it’s true. This is the song that played when I realized that yes, I am absolutely in love with the girl standing next to me. 

We were at a family party - I can’t remember whose, hers or mine. But we were fourteen, it was late and the music was still playing in the backyard, providing something to focus on other than the loud conversations going on around us. We slipped out unnoticed and I asked her to dance. And we swayed to the song until it was over and we didn’t stop for what felt like hours. My heart was so full, I felt like I had the entire world in my hands that night, and I know now that I still do, and I will for the rest of my life.

“Will you dance with me?” I ask her when we’re in the middle of the arena, her eyes wandering around the place, meeting Shawn’s glowing eyes on the big screen to the side of us.

She nods and I pull her to my chest, swaying us to the music, feeling my heart fill once again. 

“It might sound prettier when Shawn sings it,” she whispers into my ear and I can’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah, maybe so.” I nod and kiss her cheek. “Sweetheart?” I say when the song starts to slow.

“Hmm?”

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

She nods, “I know. I love you too.”

I take in a deep breath and let go of her hands and one of them goes into my pocket to secretly grab the ring. 

“Can I ask you something then?” Her back is to Shawn and the screen, so she doesn’t know that we’re on the big screen right now. 

“Anything.”

I clear my throat and get down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

***

I hope you enjoyed (again)! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Natsu’s morning commute gets interrupted by a cute guy helping a turtle cross the road, Natsu thinks it’ll just be a funny story to tell later. But then Sting shows up at Natsu’s café, with his cute accent and sweet smile, and Natsu starts to fall in love a bit. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except that Natsu already loves Gray. Then Natsu introduces them, and Gray starts falling too.

Sting’s always been easily infatuated - with the cute air steward, the scuba instructor, the pretty guy at the grocery store - but he’s never loved anyone other than Rogue. So when Sting meets Natsu and Gray and starts to feel like maybe this time, the infatuation is more than just a crush, he’s not sure what to do, even when Rogue feels the same way.

Chapter Summary: Things with Sting and Rogue are comfortable, but Natsu and Gray both want more.

Chapters (4/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Pairings: Gray/Natsu, Sting/Rogue, Gray/Natsu/Sting/Rogue Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Polyamory, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Crushes, Fluff, Flirting, First Kiss, Relationship Negotiation, Sting and Rogue have accents and Gray and Natsu can’t handle it, Dorks in Love, they’re all such awkward flirts, and they’re so gay for each other

-----

Things came to a head on a chilly evening in November.

“Why is it so goddamn cold?” Sting grumbled, kicking the snow off his boots and shivering as he stepped into Natsu and Gray’s apartment. “Your backwards seasons are ridiculous.”

“You’re the one with backwards seasons,” Natsu teased, reaching out to take Sting and Rogue’s jackets. Sting’s cheeks were pink with cold and his fingers were freezing where they touched Natsu’s. “I can’t picture winter in June.”

“Well,” Rogue said, squeezing Natsu’s arm as he passed into the living room, “it’s never really winter in Greyton. Not like here, anyway.”

Gray appeared in the doorway to the kitchen drying his hands on a dish towel. “You did say you wanted to see snow,” he said, laughing as Sting shook the flakes out of his hair. “You got your wish.”

“It’s pretty to look at,” Sting admitted. “But it’s cold and it’s awful.”

Continue reading on AO3

“Here,” Natsu said, shrugging off his hoodie and handing it to Sting, who took it gratefully. “You really need some better winter clothes. Or are you just planning to keep all of my sweaters instead?”

Sting’s cheeks flushed pink as he zipped up the hoodie and mumbled an incoherent response to the question, then ducked into the kitchen to help Gray with dinner. Something funny twisted in Natsu’s stomach at the sight of Sting in his sweater – as well as the knowledge that Sting had at least two of his other hoodies squirreled away at his and Rogue’s apartment.

“You need help with anything?” Rogue asked, fingers brushing Natsu’s elbow. The touch jolted Natsu out of his reverie but looking up at Rogue didn’t make him feel any less confused. Rogue’s hair had grown out a bit in the last few months and he had it pulled back in a messy French braid with some shorter pieces falling in his face. It looked ridiculously good on him.

Natsu sighed internally. He and Gray had talked a million times about telling Sting and Rogue how they felt, but neither of them could bring themselves to say we like you as more than friends. It seemed too taboo, even though Natsu was nearly a hundred percent certain that they felt the same way.

“Yeah,” Natsu said, holding back a shiver when Rogue’s fingers stayed for a moment too long on his arm. “Let’s go set the table.”

~

Dinner was the same noisy, flirtatious mess as every weekend. Even after only a few months it felt like Sting and Rogue belonged there, filling some sort of empty space in Natsu and Gray’s lives that hadn’t existed before they’d shown up.

“Can you pass the salad, babe?”

Natsu handed over the bowl, realizing belatedly that Sting had been talking to Rogue, not him. There was a brief, awkward pause where the word ‘babe’ hung in the air between them, but it was quickly broken when their fingers brushed, and Sting gave Natsu a bright smile.

“So,” Gray said, pushing his empty plate forward and leaning back in his chair. “What are you guys doing for Christmas?”

Rogue looked at Sting, who shrugged. “We don’t really have plans,” Rogue said. “Back in Greyton we’d have a braai outside in the afternoon – like a big barbeque with the whole neighborhood. Somehow I don’t think that would work out too well here.”

“You’d freeze before you could eat anything,” Sting grumbled, knocking his foot against Natsu’s under the table as he took another bite of salad. “It’s supposed to get even colder in December! It’s unreasonable.”

Natsu laughed, taking a sip of his beer and gently kicking Sting’s shin. “You’re not gonna wanna leave the house for the next couple months, huh?” Sting shook his head and made a face.

“The upside is that he’s very cuddly when it’s cold out,” Rogue teased, and Sting flicked a pea at him. “And apparently hoards Natsu’s sweaters – he wore one to bed last night after complaining about the temperature for almost the entire evening.”

“Shut up,” Sting hissed, cheeks turning even pinker as he poked furiously at his salad. “They’re warm. And they…” He trailed off, refusing to make eye contact with Natsu, who could feel his own cheeks turning red.

“Christmas!” Gray interrupted, voice slightly louder than it needed to be. His face was flushed too, and he was trying his best to hide it behind his wine glass. Natsu suspected it had something to do with the fact that Rogue was sitting across from him with his legs stretched out under the table.

Natsu decided to jump in and save him, if only to avoid the conversation about Sting and his sweaters. “You guys wanna come over here for Christmas?” he asked quickly. “Our families are both out of town this year, so we were just gonna… I dunno, eat pizza and watch all the ‘Die Hard’ movies.”

“So, a typical weekend for us then,” Rogue teased. There was something about the way he said ‘us’ that made Natsu’s stomach do a funny sort of cartwheel.

“Pretty much,” he said around the sensation. “Only difference is that we drink eggnog instead of beer and Gray dresses up Happy in a Santa outfit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Gray grumbled, smacking Natsu’s arm. Then he stood up, grabbing his empty plate and gesturing to everyone else’s. “C’mon, lets clean up and watch a movie.”

~

Cuddling during movie night had become a comfortable routine. Sting liked being in the middle, curled up halfway on Natsu’s lap while Rogue sat behind him. Gray, who preferred to be on the floor in a pile of blankets, sat in front of Sting and Rogue, who would both absently play with his hair. It was warm and comfortable, and Sting looked forward to it every week.

This time it had been his turn to pick, and while ‘Inside Out’ had seemed like a good idea at the time, now that it was over, Sting was definitely regretting it.  

“Babe, are you crying?”

Gray tipped his head back against the couch, looking up at Natsu, who was wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt and shaking his head. Sting, who was curled up comfortably between Natsu and Rogue, was definitely crying and not bothering to hide it.  

“’m not crying,” Natsu insisted as they watched the credits scroll up across the TV.

“Yeah, you are,” Gray said, voice more gentle than teasing.

“Shut up,” Natsu grumbled. “You’re just a heartless asshole.”

Gray fake-gasped, putting his hand over his heart and looking indignant. “I am not heartless,” he insisted, nodding at Rogue. “Look, Rogue’s not crying either.”

Sting sniffed and rubbed at his face, feeling something in his stomach jump as Natsu shifted next to him. They’d ended up holding hands during the movie again – not hiding it, and once again Rogue and Gray hadn’t said anything – but the feel of Natsu’s thumb moving over the back of Sting’s knuckles had almost been enough to distract Sting enough to keep him from crying.

Almost.

“Look,” Natsu said, squeezing Sting’s hand as he sat up a little. “It hurt my heart, okay?”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Sting teased.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. His cheeks started to burn as Natsu stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes filled with a confusing mix of things that Sting wasn’t sure he understood. A soft silence fell over the four of them, and the air was so charged with everything they’d never said that Sting felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah,” Natsu whispered eventually. His gaze wavered for a second, flicking down to Gray, then over to Rogue, then slowly moving back up to Sting. “You, uh…”

Natsu’s hand was so warm in Sting’s, fingers drifting slowly across Sting’s palm, and the sensation made Sting’s stomach twist. He could feel Gray leaning against his leg, not moving away, not pushing Sting away, just resting his hand on Sting’s knee and... waiting.

They were all on the edge of something, air crackling with nervous energy as Sting turned his hand and pressed his palm against Natsu’s. It reminded Sting of going cliff-jumping for the first time – standing at the edge, toes pressed into the rock, staring down at the drop to the water and feeling like the world had narrowed down to just that spot, fifty feet below.

Rogue squeezed Sting’s hip, then nudged him gently, and Sting finally gave in, leaning forward and closing the distance until he and Natsu were nearly nose-to-nose.

He could feel Natsu’s breath, hot on his cheek, and when Sting brushed his nose against Natsu’s, Natsu let out a soft, contented sound. Sting’s hand slowly travelled up Natsu’s arm, fingers drawing gentle patterns and brushing through the curls of hair at the base of Natsu’s neck.

A step forward. A deep breath. Eyes closed. Jump.

Sting brushed their lips together and it was like plunging into the water – sharp and bright and exhilarating. The tension in the room broke, spilling into a heady energy that drew out quiet gasps and gentle touches. All the confusion and frustration and tension of the past few months melted away, and all Sting could think about was the way that Natsu made soft noises into his mouth, and the feel of Natsu’s fingers in his hair.

And then Sting surfaced, breaking back into the sensation of Gray’s body against his leg and Rogue’s fingers on his lower back, and the quiet dark of the living room.

He pulled back slowly, breathing shakily and pressing his forehead to Natsu’s, trying his best to keep the words inside because nothing he could say would—

“Sting.” Gray’s voice was so, so gentle, and Sting squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before pulling away from Natsu and looking down at dark eyes, dark skin, dark lashes. Sting wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see there – anger, maybe, or confusion, or maybe grief – but it certainly wasn’t the fond smile Gray was wearing.

“Wh... I...”

“C’mere,” Gray said, reaching up and brushing his fingers across Sting’s cheek. Sting felt his breath catch in his throat again, and he couldn’t say no to the gentle touch, so he leaned down and let Gray kiss him.

Gray tasted like the fuzzy peaches he’d been eating, and when he ran his tongue across Sting’s lip, Sting felt something coil in his stomach, hot and wanting. He exhaled, moving his hand to rest on Gray’s neck, brushing lightly across Gray’s throat as their tongues slid together and Gray let out a soft sigh.

Sting felt Rogue shift behind him, nudging him gently forward, and Sting broke apart from the kiss long enough to slide down to the floor onto Gray’s lap. Gray shifted until Sting’s knees were on either side of his hips, then brought both hands up to cup Sting’s face, gazing at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Gray asked softly. Sting looked up to see Natsu’s fingers tangled in Rogue’s hair and Rogue’s hand on Natsu’s hip as they kissed each other, and he swallowed heavily.

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a quiet breath and closing his eyes as Gray tucked his hair behind his ears. Soft lips pressed to Sting’s throat and he tipped his head back, breath hitching as Gray’s fingers trailed down his spine and rested on his hips. Sting dragged his fingers through Gray’s hair as Gray continued to kiss his neck, tugging Sting closer to him until they were chest-to-chest and Sting could feel Gray’s heart thundering against his.

“We should... talk...” Natsu murmured between kisses, and Sting opened his eyes to watch Rogue bite down gently on Natsu’s lower lip. Natsu made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a moan, and Sting echoed it as Gray’s teeth scraped gently over his throat.

“You wanna... nnnn... stop?” Rogue asked softly, pulling back for a second and glancing over at Sting. Natsu shook his head, turning to watch Gray run his hand up under Sting’s shirt.

“No,” Natsu said, reaching out for Sting. Sting grabbed Natsu’s hand, squeezing tightly, and Natsu tugged on Rogue’s shirt, pulling him down until they were sitting on the floor next to Sting and Gray. “I just wanna make sure we’re all on the same page here.”

“I’ve wanted this since we met,” Sting admitted, heart stuttering at the admission and the look of adoration on Natsu’s face. “Both of you, and I—we’ve talked about it a lot and it’s… I don’t know if it’s weird, or—”

“Hey.” Gray’s thumbs rubbed gentle circles across Sting’s hips as he tipped his head back and caught Sting’s gaze. “Us, too.”

“Not just the kissing, though,” Natsu said quickly, leaning into Rogue’s fingers that combed through his hair. “It’s not just this. You’re both…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the air, and Sting knew exactly what he meant.

“You’re important to us, too,” Rogue said softly, filling in the words that Natsu couldn’t find. “We want…”

“Yeah,” Natsu said softly, reaching out and touching Sting’s cheek. “Us, too.” Then he pulled Sting in for a kiss again, running his other hand down Gray’s back. Sting could feel Rogue move behind him to kiss Gray, and he shifted off Gray’s lap so Rogue could take over instead.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Natsu murmured, running his fingers through Sting’s hair and kissing his cheek before pushing him gently down to the floor. The carpet was soft and Sting dragged his fingers through it as Natsu leaned over him, air falling around him and tickling Sting’s cheeks. Natsu’s eyes searched Sting’s face, dark and curious as he ran his thumb over Sting’s cheek.

“Promise this isn’t just…” Sting struggled to focus on the words – he could hear Rogue making quiet, contented sounds as Gray pulled him closer, and Natsu’s fingers left sparks trailing across his skin.

“It’s more than that,” Natsu said, leaning down and brushing his lips against Sting’s. “Not just this, but... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Sting brought his hands up to Natsu’s waist, slipping his hands under Natsu’s shirt and tracing a pattern over Natsu’s hips. Natsu closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to Sting’s.

Sting ran his hands up Natsu’s back, nudging him down gently as he pulled him in for a kiss. Natsu braced himself on one arm, bringing his other hand to brush through Sting’s hair as he ran his tongue across Sting’s bottom lip.

A soft sigh from next to them drew Sting’s attention and he looked over to see that Gray and Rogue had switched positions – Rogue against the couch with Gray in his lap – and Gray’s shirt was on the floor. His head was tipped back and Sting could see Rogue kissing his neck as he ran his fingertips down Gray’s back.

“Wow,” Sting said softly, fingers stilling on Natsu’s skin as he watched Rogue bring a hand up to Gray’s hair and tug on it gently. Gray made a sound that was almost a whimper, following eagerly when Rogue nudged him onto his back next to Sting.

“Hey, baby,” Rogue said to Sting as he straddled Gray’s hips and ran his fingers across Gray’s stomach. Sting hummed as Rogue brushed his other hand across Natsu’s back, then leaned down and kissed Sting deeply. The familiar feel of Rogue’s lips on his was grounding, and Sting touched his cheek for a second before reaching out and grabbing Gray’s hand.

“You’re both amazing,” Natsu murmured as Rogue pulled back from Sting to kiss him instead. “Gods, I could do this forever.”

“Good,” Rogue said, smiling against Natsu’s lips before looking back down at Gray and running a hand up his chest. “Because we have nowhere else to be, and all the time in the world.”

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #gratsustingue #ot4 #gratsu #stingue #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #polyamory #fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic

[strwbrryeos]

Leave Room For Dessert (M) [R]

Requested by anon. Whoever you are, I love you. 

SUMMARY; Yoongi’s been working hard, good for him, but it’s left the both of you feeling  ridiculously lonely. Now you finally have some time alone and... you have dinner plans with the boys. Fuck. Good thing that’s not stopping Yoongi. 

Genre : Minor fluff, mostly smut, smut, au, fanfiction, request, one-shot

Pairing : Reader x Min Yoongi

Contains : filth, oral, fingering, slight voyeurism, praise kink, sex, slow sex, rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex, hair pulling

MASTER LIST

Yoongi is on top of you the moment he gets home.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth as he pins you to the couch. “I’ve missed you all fucking day.”

“F-Fuck, what’s gotten into you?”

“I haven’t touched you in almost two weeks and I’m losing my fucking mind,” he says, his lips moving down your neck. You shiver into his touch, leaning to the side to give him more access. “Good girl,” he praises. His hands are undoing your shirt, and he happily tweaks your nipples until they’re pink and oversensitive.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi… More.”

His hands undo your shirt, and he happily tweaks your nipples until they’re pink and oversensitive. As he moves to toy with the button atop your jeans, a loud ringing sounds from the kitchen counter. It’s the sound of Yoongi screaming “J-Hope” which he set for fun, but the voice currently has him irritated more than anything.

“Fuck,” he hisses as he strides over to the counter to pick up his phone, putting it on speaker as he walks back over to you. “Hello?”

“Ay, bro!” shouts Hoseok excitedly. “You guys are still coming to dinner tonight, right?”

You and Yoongi look at each other, alarmed. “Right!” Yoongi answers quickly while your head swivels to the clock. It’s nearly seven.

“Yay! Just wanted to check in on you guys. Everyone’s already here.”

“Y-Yeah!” you reply. “We’re just stuck in really heavy traffic.”

“Oh, hi Y/N!”

“I’m thinking we’ll be there in fifteen… twenty minutes?” you say as both you and Yoongi hurry to the bedroom to change.

“Damn. Alright. See you then!”

Hoseok hangs up, leaving you and your boyfriend in a rushed, scrambled state. It’s far easier for Yoongi to get ready; all he really needed was to change his outfit. You’re trying to dress and do your hair and make-up within a five-minute time span. “See, this is why we put things on the calendar!” you exclaim while you curl your hair as Yoongi rifles through your closet.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “How about the red one?”

“It shrunk, remember? Choose a different one.”

“Ugh, why do you have so many dresses?”

“‘Cause you keep buying them for me!”

“Well, if you wouldn’t look so damn good in everything, this wouldn’t be an issue!”

“How is it my fault that you like buying me stuff so you can, what was it? Tear it off later?”

You don’t need to see Yoongi to know he’s blushing right now. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Well now would be a great time for me to have bought you something new.”

“Yeah, except you were too busy thinking about putting your hands down my pants.”

“Again, not my fault!”

You ignore him, instead attending to your lipstick when he shouts, “Fuck yes! Wear this one!” He steps out of your closet to reveal his dress of choice: a black number with a slit in the leg. You roll your eyes at him.

“That one, really?”

He shrugs and smiles. “It rides up your leg when you sit down.”

“Oh, my god. Do you always get this perverted when you don’t have sex for a while?”

“Yes!” he laughs.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, but you change into the dress anyway.

—

You arrive at the restaurant a whole thirty minutes late; the boys hadn’t even bothered to look at their menus yet because they wanted to wait, and you wouldn’t stop apologizing.

“It’s fine!” Taehyung laughs. “Not like you can control traffic, right?”

“Yes, but if we’d only left sooner—”

“Ah, we’ve all done it before,” says Namjoon as he picks through the menu. “Remember that one-time Jin-hyung was late to his own birthday party?”

“Look! That wasn’t my fault!” he exclaims, and everyone laughs.

The waiter comes back and takes everyone’s orders, and the conversation gets lively from there. The boys fill you in on all their work, knowing full well how much you enjoy hearing the stories behind their new choreography or music. “It was a brilliant idea from Hobi-ah!” Jimin chirps happily. “The juxtaposition at the bridge.”

Hoseok beams. “Only because it was perfect for your voice!” Jimin giggles and hides his face at the compliment, but everyone knows he’s enjoying it. Hoseok shifts his attention over to Namjoon and Yoongi, and soon enough the three rappers are immersed in a conversation on their latest development. The singers and yourself try to follow along, but they talk as quickly as they rap and eventually you give up.

“So how was your day?” asks Taehyung, turning his attention to you.

“Ah, boring. I don’t do nearly anything as-s i-interesting as you guys!”

Jungkook looks at you suspiciously. “Uh, you okay?”

“Yes,” you reply through grit teeth. Truth be told, you’re not because your ass of a boyfriend decided that now was a good time to put his hand up your legs. Yoongi remains enraptured by his conversation, seemingly unfazed by the entire situation. Damn him. And damn you for letting him choose the dress. “What are you doing?” you hiss at Yoongi.

He leans into your ear and whispers, “They’re staring at you.”

“No, they are not! They’re my friends!”

“Yeah, friends who’ve had a longer dry spell than I have.”

“Y-Yoongi!”

“But really, Y/N,” Jin says, taking your attention away from Yoongi. “What’s life been like? Feel like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Um, it’s been alright. This asshole is hard to deal with.”

“Yeah, and you haven’t even been living with him that long!” laughs Hoseok loudly. Jin and Hoseok are both poking fun at Yoongi, and eventually the rest of them join in. You might too if you weren’t so ridiculously distracted. You grip Yoongi’s wrist tightly when his hand, which has been rubbing you up till now, pulls aside your panties and starts playing with any piece of exposed skin he can get at.

“Yoongi,” you whine.

“What is it, babygirl?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asks Jimin from across the table.

“Mm! Mmhm!”

“What about you, Yoongi-ah? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Oh, you know,” he says with a lazy grin, “just saving up for dessert.”

One look between you and Yoongi has Jin doubling over in laughter. “Yah! We’re in public!” Yoongi only shrugs at him.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, looking back and forth confusedly. You shoot him a look of apology while Jin only yells, not being able to form a coherent sentence. Namjoon seems to catch on too, though he’s far more embarrassed about it than his older friend.

“Hyung,” he scolds, but anything he was about to say is lost on his tongue. Instead he looks away, desperately trying to avoid looking at you.

Yoongi stands up and holds his hand out for you. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Yoongi!”

“What? We’ll be right back.”

Yoongi escorts you to the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant. The men’s room is occupied, but the women’s room isn’t, so he quickly pulls you inside and locks the door.

“I cannot believe you,” you laugh as he props you up on the counter. He moves in between your legs and smiles up at you.

“You know you love me. Plus you’re very distracting.”

“I’m distracting? I’m not the one getting handsy at dinner time!”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful…”

You might respond if not for his hands hastily bunching your dress up around your waist. His fingers traced patterns on your thighs until they got to your panties. He hooked his finger around the waistband and pulled it down to your ankles. He paused for a second to smirk at you. “You look good like this.” His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss, sucking the air out of your lungs.

“Y-Yoongi,” you breathe. “More.” His eyes sparkle as he smirks at you before he’s pulling you into another deep kiss; his hands trail to your exposed center, dipping in once. You gasp, grabbing at his wrist. “D-Don’t tease me.”

“Fine,” he replies, leaning his head down, “but only because we have people waiting on us.”

His tongue pokes at your entrance before he dives in fully, and his nose brushes against your clit with every stroke. You whine loudly and, remembering you’re in a public place, grip his head between your thighs while biting your lip.

“Don’t hold back, babe,” he laughs. His skilled tongue flicks over your bud and plays with it, ignoring your squirming and desperate pleas for more.

“P-Please. Fuck, please. Don’t tease me anymore.”

He doesn’t respond, instead resorting to mercilessly licking at your center while his fingers pull and prod and your swollen clit. You’re moaning loudly, and in the back of your mind you hope no one can hear you.

“C’mon, babe. Let go.”

It doesn’t take much convincing for you to obey. “Shit! Yes, Yoongi!” you shout, scrunching his hair in your hands as you cum on his tongue. He drinks you greedily, not stopping until you’re forcibly pushing him away. He laughs as he watches you come down and wipes the evidence of your release off his chin.

“Cute.”

“Fuck off.”

“C’mere,” he chuckles, helping you tidy yourself up and get down. You land with a quiet thud and he pulls you tightly to him, pressing his lips against yours. “Ready to go back?”

“Ugh, I guess. They’re never gonna let me live this down though.”

“Eh, I’ll make them shut up. After you.”

“Why, thank you.”

His arm is draped protectively over your shoulders as the both of you walk back to your table. Jin gives the both of you a theatrical thumbs up while Jimin can’t stop laughing. Jungkook looks as embarrassed as Namjoon does. “So…” starts Hoseok. “How was dessert?”

“Hoseok!” you hiss.

“It was great!” answers Yoongi.

“Oh my god,” you groan.

“It’s fine, Y/N! Here, how about I pay for actual dessert? You like chocolate cake, right?”

—

After you say your goodbyes, Yoongi is taking you to the car, ever so eager to return home.

“What’s the rush?” you ask.

“You.”

“What’d I do?”

“Not me… yet.”

“Are you always this fucking corny?”

“I’m corny when I’m horny,” he laughs.

“Fuck off!” you shout, but of course you’re laughing as you slide into the passenger’s seat. Yoongi swiftly begins the drive home, and you’re so busy admiring the city lights in the fading sky that you’re not paying attention to the way your boyfriend stares at you. He admires you from his vantage point, loving the way you bask in the lowlight. As if of its own accord, his hand finds yours, and he rubs circles on your wrist absentmindedly. That is, until, he gets the urge to watch you squirm. His hand moves from your wrist to your panties to your pussy, and soon enough, you’re slumped against the car seat, breathing heavily as Yoongi teases your insides.

“Fuck…” you moan lowly. He doesn’t respond, instead preferring to curl his fingers inside you so that you’re whining loudly. “Yoongi!”

“Like that, baby?”

“Y-Yes! Oh my god, please.”

“Don’t worry babe, we’re almost there.”

“Just…”

“Just?”

“Let me cum… please.”

“Not yet.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Yoongi removes himself from you and licks his fingers, loving the gaping look you give him as he redirects his attention to the road.

“Fuck you, Min,” you growl.

“Well that’s the plan.”

—

When Yoongi pulls in, the both of you are practically sprinting up to your apartment. Your hands are all over each other the moment he has you inside. “Fuck,” he groans as you start licking at his neck. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

“I know I have,” you say as you pull him into the bedroom. “Fucking tease.”

He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed carelessly, climbing on top of you after. “I’m,” he says between kisses, “not… the one… parading around… in a dress like that.”

“You chose the dress, asshole.”

He smirks. “You’re right. Mostly so I could do this though.” He grabs the zipper and yanks it down quickly, nearly snapping it in the process.

“This is why you always have to buy me new stuff!”

“You like getting new stuff anyways.”

“I guess that’s true,” you giggle as you flip yourselves over so that you lay on top of him. You unbutton his shirt quickly, laying kisses down his chest until you reach his pants. As eagerly as he’d taken off your dress, you take off his slacks, palming at the hardening member in his boxers.

“No time, baby,” he says as you begin to stroke him slowly. “I need to fuck you.”

“I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “We’ll who’s stopping you?”

You grin and place a soft kiss on his lips before grabbing his hard cock and guiding it to your dripping entrance. You rub yourself along it twice before fulling sinking onto it ever so slowly.

“Fuck,” the both of you groan in unison.

He grabs your waist and rubs his thumbs on you soothingly. “Whenever you’re ready,” he coos.

You nod and begin moving up on him slowly. His grip tightens on you, but he restrains himself from bucking against you. You work up a comfortable rhythm, grinding on him until you’re fucking yourself on him in a frenzy. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. You feel so fucking good.”

You drop your head into his shoulder as you grind down on him, whining in discomfort when you get tired. He takes the hint and flips you over, propping one leg on his shoulder. He fucks into you brutally and relentlessly, and you’re sobbing with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck! Yoongi!”

“Hold on, babe. You’re doing so good. Always so good for me.”

“Y-Yoongi! I’m gonna—”

“You can do it, babe.”

To chase away your orgasm, he switches positions. He bends you over on your stomach so that your face is in the mattress. His hand firmly wraps around your hair as he enters you again. “Fuck,” he moans loudly. “You feel so good.”

“Yoongi!” you cry as he fucks you. The sounds are loud and obscene, and your neighbors probably hate you, but you couldn’t care less because you feel so good. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too, baby. Fuck, I’m almost there!”

“Shit!”  You cum loudly on his dick, and the clenching of your pussy causes him to release inside you. He collapses beside you and you fall into the mattress, the both of you breathing heavily. He doesn’t even bother cleaning either of you up, instead wrapping himself around your sweaty body.

“Babe…”

“Just go to sleep. You can yell at me in the morning.”

“Mm, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

#bts #bts smut #smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi/reader #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #suga #bts suga #suga smut #bts suga smut #bts yoongi smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #bts min yoongi smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts kim namjoon #bts kim seokjin #bts jung hoseok #bts park jimin

[capandbuckysgirl]

Pillowtalk (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pillowtalk - Steve Rogers x Reader

Okay, this is for @stanclub ‘s writing challenge. I picked the prompt “Stop talking and take off your clothes.”

Summary: You and Steve had been friends for a little over a year now, but you wanted him to be more; to see you like you saw him. Steve does have feelings for you, but he can’t make a move on you without hurting his friend in the process…

Slightly inspired by Pillowtalk by Zayn

Warnings: Swearing, “Captain” kink, SMUT, praise kink, fluff, some angst and a little bit of heart breaking… no biggie! For 18+ - you are warned!

Gifs used are not mine, credit to the owners!

“Take cover, Y/N!” Steve bellowed into the coms. I didn’t wait to hear more, I ran, diving behind the steel door that stood open before me. As I shoved it closed with my foot I could feel the building shake as the bomb detonated. Cement rained down on me as I exhaled sharply. Pain shot through my ribs where I’d taken one too many punches and a few kicks thrown in for good measure. Sharp, agonizing pain.

“Y/N, you okay, sweetheart?” Sam’s voice came over the coms sounding nervous, shaken.

“I-I’m fine. I think my r-ribs are cracked.” My voice sounded far away, like I was floating in water. My vision started blurring, my heart thrumming wildly behind my ribs. The pain was suffocating me, pulling me under as I wrapped my arms around my ruined rib cage.

“Sam, get to her. We’ll hold them off, be quick!”

My eyes crossed as the pain became overwhelming, breath shuddering as I let the darkness pull me under and I lost consciousness.

I awoke to an oxygen mask being pulled over my face, Sam’s concerned face came into focus above me as he wrapped my hand into his. I closed my eyes, a tear trailing down my face and soaking into the pillow behind my head. I knew Sam had feelings for me, and as much as I loved him as a friend, my heart belonged to another.

My eyes searched until they met the cool blue of my best friends’ eyes. Steve was standing behind Sam, his eyes raking over my form as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Y/N, we’re going to get you home. You did good, real good.” Sam was blocking my view of Steve now, his eyes searching mine.

I tried to answer but all that would come out was a rough sounding grunt causing another pain to shoot into my chest.

“Stay still, Y/N. We’re going home now, Bruce will patch you up.” Steve said softly as he turned away from you. I swear I saw a tear fall from Steve’s eye.

Sam never left my side, Steve keeping a close watch as we made our way back to the tower. I closed my eyes and let myself be pulled back into the darkness. Things made more sense here, I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone or being in love with my best friend. I could shut my brain off and I could just be.

“Get her to the lab, Steve.”

“Bucky, help me. Move that shit out of my way.”

“Get her onto the table, let’s go! How long has she been slipping in and out of consciousness?”

“Cut off her suit, get it off. Bruce, help her.”

“Y/N, Y/N can you hear me?”

“Y/N…”

The darkness swallowed me completely, and I heard no more.

———————————————–~*~*~*~———————————————

*2 weeks later*

I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes raking down my naked form as I ran my fingertips gently over the remaining cuts and the scar that now decorated my left side. The piece of shrapnel that had been lodged between two ribs had caused me to lose too much blood, I’d nearly died. I had thought I’d just broken some ribs, but I’d actually been impaled after the bomb went off.

Now I knew, I had to confess to Steve my feelings for him. Life was just too fucking short. I knew in the process of getting Steve, I’d break Sam’s heart. It hurt me to think of hurting a friend, but I didn’t love him that way. I never would.

A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. Wrapping my robe around my body, I called for whomever to come in. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. My body ached for him, my heart called out for him. His scent enveloped me, and I was floating. I was really and truly in love with Steve Rogers, and it was now or never…

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, Steve.” I said softly as I turned toward him, my arms wrapped around my middle as I tried to keep my heartbeat steady. He could turn me into a complete mess with just words. “I think it’s time we talk.”

His face fell slightly, his fingers coming up to push some of my hair behind my ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Steve. Not really. I just think it’s time we stop dancing around this…” I waved my hand between the two of us. “You and I both know that we’re more than friends, at least, we should be. Me almost dying - made me realize that I can’t live without you as more.”

Steve sighed heavily, his breath fanning across my face. I could taste him, the flavor of him clinging to my tongue.

“Y/N, you know,” He stopped to clear his throat but didn’t step away. His hand was still resting softly against my cheek as he ran his thumb around in tiny circles. “Sam’s in love with you. He’s my friend, I can’t do that to him.”

“Steve, I love Sam. I love him as a friend. You have to know that I don’t want to hurt him, but I’m in love with you. I have been for a while.”

Again he sighed, this time pulling back away from me. The skin of my cheek still tingled where he’d been touching me. Couldn’t he feel this? It wasn’t just my imagination. There was something fucking palpable between Steve and I, and I was determined for him to admit it.

“Tell me.”

He looked closely at me, looking slightly confused.

“Tell me you’re not in love with me, too.”

He stood there, his eyes searching mine as he took a step closer. My hands began to tremble, I wanted to feel him. To touch the man I’d loved for so long and hadn’t had the guts to tell.

I watched as Steve breathed steadily, his eyes not giving anything away. He was so cool and composed that I wanted to scream at him.

“Tell me!”

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice wrapping around my name like the sweetest prayer. “I could do that.” he nodded.

I stepped closer to him, my arms wrapping around his neck and standing up on my toes.

“I could say those words - that I don’t love you. But they would be the most blasphemous words to ever pass my lips.”

“Say it, Steve.”

“This is going to kill Sam.” he whispered as his lips came closer to mine. His hands grabbed my hips tightly, and he breathed out the words I’d longed to hear. “I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you, but you knew it already. We’ve avoided this for long enough, and as much as it kills me that we’re going to hurt Sam, I can’t stop loving you - I can’t.”

Standing taller on the tips of my toes, I pushed my lips against his roughly. He took the lead, lifting me up against him and wrapping my legs around his waist. I opened my lips and felt the tip of his tongue against my bottom lip. As I gasped in surprise, he fisted his fingers into my hair and massaged my tongue with his. The taste of him was overwhelming, heady… I wanted more.

“St-Steve,” I moaned as he licked the side of my neck and then biting down, leaving a slight sting there. “Please?”

“I have fought against this for so long, hiding my feelings because I was afraid of hurting people. But Y/N, watching you almost die; fuck, I can’t lose you. I can’t live without having you as mine.”

“I know Sam is going to be hurt, I know. It kills me, too. It’s killing me that I’m going to break his heart. But my heart has always belonged to you. I can’t change how I feel. Now stop talking Steve, and take off your clothes.”

Walking toward my bed, he set me down gently. His pupils blown wide from lust with a tell-tale tent in the front of his pants. I watched as he reached down to remove his t-shirt. Sliding up the bed, I rested back against my pillows and watched as Steve unbuttoned his pants. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in all my life, seeing Steve completely naked was something that could bring even the strongest person to their knees.

“I’ve waited for this, for you, for so long. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I’m sorry, too. I love you, Steve.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he said as he crawled toward me, his eyes now looking absolutely predatory. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

I reached for him, my fingers threading into his hair as I pulled him back to my lips. This kiss was different; driven by lust and need. We were tongues and teeth and moans as he untied my robe. His large hands tracing patterns on the skin of my stomach, then moving down to where I needed him most. One finger found my clit and started rubbing it. I nipped his bottom lip with my teeth as he pushed one finger, then two inside of me. He knew how to touch me, how to make my toes curl; my fingers gripping his hair tighter as he hit that spot. That spot so deep inside of me that he had me seeing stars already and we’d only just started.

“Steve, fuck,” I moaned loudly, my thighs quivering as I felt the coil snap inside of me. “Yes!”

“Good girl,” he cooed against my ear, his tongue laving against the lobe before nibbling there. “Such a good girl. All that wasted time, we could have been doing this and more. That’s one.”

“Oh, Captain.”

“Be careful, sweetheart.”

Steve Rogers is a freak in the sheets, who the fuck would have guessed that? I could use this. I looked up at him innocently, biting down on my bottom lip gently.

“Are you going to fuck me now… Captain?”

“My sweet, Y/N,” he moaned as he pulled me down the bed slightly, our hips lining up perfectly as his erection sat against my stomach. The size of him had me worried for just a moment that he wouldn’t fit. “I’m going to have you screaming for me, everyone in this goddamn tower is going to know whose pussy this is before the night is over.”

“Such language, Captain.” I cooed. “I like it.”

“I’ll just bet you do, you dirty girl.” Our lips met in a heated kiss as he palmed his cock, sliding it up and down against my slit before nudging the head in. He took his time, pushing in slowly as he tasted my mouth. I was so stretched open, so full feeling as he bottomed out inside me.

“So… big,” I grunted against his lips. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“You’re so fucking tight, you feel so good, Y/N.” I could do nothing but moan as he began a punishing rhythm, his balls slapping against the crack of my ass and his cock hitting so deep that I could feel the slight sting as he hit my cervix.

“You take it so well, baby. Can you feel how full you are? So fucking good, so tight… you’re mine.” He bit down lightly on the skin of my neck, leaving little love bites as he tucked his face into the crook of my neck. “I want you always, I love you, Y/N.”

“I’m yours, Cap, always. I love you… now fuck me like you mean it.”

His trusts became faster, harder - he was so controlled, breathing in my ear as he pulled our bodies closer together. My arms wrapped tightly around his neck as our lips met again, tongues swirling together as he angled his hips and thrust against my G-Spot. I could feel my toes curl against the sheets as he continued angling against that spot.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum again. So good, you feel so good inside of me.”

“Cum for me, beautiful. Cum all over my cock.”

I could feel it, the coil tightening and the tingling running through my body. My thighs started to shake until I felt the snap, the rush of pure bliss as my orgasm tore through my body.

“Good girl, so good for me. That’s two.” He pulled out, sitting back and pulling me up with him. “How do you want it now, baby? On top or from behind?”

The thought of him taking me from behind was tempting, but I wanted to see him, the way he looked while he lost control. I also wanted to know what it was like to be in control of him - have him at my mercy.

“I want to ride you, Captain, please?”

He growled deep in his chest as he lie down, his cock standing up long and proud and so damn tempting.

“Climb on, baby.”

I did as he asked, sliding down on his cock as he palmed my tits roughly, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip. I braced my hands on his chest and began riding him like my life depended on it. I would lift almost completely off of him and then slam back down roughly, taking him balls deep and then rotating my hips so he would hit my G-spot again.

“Yes, fuck! You are so amazing, such a good girl.”

Lifting up, I moved his hands down my hips and held them there. I leaned forward, our lips meeting as he began thrusting up into me. Moving his hands up to grab my wrists, he pulled my hands behind my back, pinning me against his body as he fucked up into my body.

He continued on, taking my body higher as he chased his own orgasm. I could feel it, another one coming as his thrusts started to lose their rhythm.

“Cum with me, Y/N.” he moaned against my lips. “Cum one more time baby, you can do it.”

I concentrated on the feel of him inside of me, the movement of his cock as he hit those spots inside that made me feel so damn good. It wasn’t going to be a problem to cum again for him, I could feel it. My eyes closed in pleasure as I tightened around him, gasping and moaning his name. His hips stuttered slightly as he fucked me through it, my orgasm pulling the breath from my lungs.

Resting my forehead against his, I stared into his eyes as his breathing hitched. I’d never seen anything so beautiful; the sweat beading on his forehead, the slight part of his lips as he moaned, his pupils blown wide as his arms wrapped tighter around my body. He thrust once, twice, three times and stilled, the filthiest moan I’d ever heard falling from those sinful lips.

He released my arms and kissed my lips, his hands holding my face gently.

“That’s three,” he whispered, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you so much,” I sighed, my fingers once again threading into his hair. “Now for the hard part…”

He pulled out of me, rolling us over so he was leaning over the top of me. His eyes searched mine for a moment before he tucked a stray hair behind my ear.

“We’ll do it together, let’s get dressed and go talk to him.”

My heart ached, yet felt completely full. I didn’t want to hurt Sam, but I had everything I wanted right here in my arms. Life just wasn’t fair for some people, and I was about to break the heart of one of my very good friends.

“FRIDAY, can you let Sam know that I’d like to meet him in the living room?”

“Of course Miss. Y/N.”

“No matter what,” Steve said as he stood up, pulling me along with him. “We’re in this together. Just remember that I love you, okay?”

We dressed and walked down to the living room together, my hand in his and my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Steve’s hold on my hand was keeping me grounded, but I still felt tears as they streaked down my cheeks running tiny rivers of pain into my skin.

“Sam,” I said softly as I entered the room, his eyes finding mine from across the room. He looked sad as I saw him glance down at my hand in Steve’s. My throat constricted as said hand clasped tighter onto Steve’s. “We need to talk…”

#masterlist repost #my work #winchesterswantmypie #steve rogers x reader

[buriedinbleach]

Lather, Rinse, Repeat... and Repeat [Renji x Reader]

I meant to write something a little more sensual after that last chapter, but what can I say... these characters / scenarios write themselves.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Ugh, finally…

You had been waiting for this day ever since you had first seen your bimonthly, week-long training session crop up on the division calendar. Five very full days spent developing and improving the incoming classes of soul reapers. It was just one of the ‘benefits’ of being a seated officer, a good fighter, and a patient teacher.

Tossing your bag down, not caring where it landed, you very meticulously lay your zanpakuto on a side table on its stand next to your boyfriends. You trudge through the apartment, shuffling your steps, too tired to even lift your feet. Your muscles ached, as you rolled your neck from side to side and froze. Suddenly ‘ache’ didn’t quite adequately describe the sensation covering your body. Your muscles were throbbing.

You had rewarded the dedication of your shinigami and their willingness to learn by permitting them a few good hits on your body. It was only after allowing them their moment of triumph that you proceeded to put every last one of them in the dirt. You were a merciful teacher, but they needed to understand that they had much left to learn.

They should just be happy this isn’t the eleventh division. Those sadists would have slaughtered every last one of them…

The only thought running through your mind all day – all week – had been taking a long, relaxing, hot shower before climbing into bed with your boyfriend the rest of the weekend. Sighing in relief as soon as you reach the bedroom door, you freeze. The distinct sound of running water from the bathroom hits your ears and you’re seething with anger. You just know he’s using all the hot water. Goddamnit Renji!

You stomp towards the closed bathroom door, ripping your clothes off as you go, perfectly happy to drag him out of the bathroom by his crimson hair if necessary.

Wait…

Stopping dead in your tracks, you have a sudden realization – he was in the shower and he was naked. Images fill your mind of his beautifully toned, muscular body, painted in black ink, covered in water and soap…

A devilish smile spreads across your face as you unsnap your bra and drop it to the ground to join the rest of your clothing. Just as you reach for the door, the muscles in your shoulder throb painfully and you remember your original purpose. Your eyes tunnel in on accomplishing one goal – get in the hot shower, by any means necessary.

A wave of steam wafts out and rolls over your body when you open the door and slip inside, soundlessly. The glass of the shower doors is fogged over, but you can still make out his thick, dark tattoos dancing over his lightly tanned skin as he moved. Sucked in, lost in thought, and happily melding your memory with reality when Renji nudges the shower door open and seizes your wrist. He drags you into the shower, pulling you inside with such force that you collide with his water slicked chest.

“You shit, Renji. I told you I wanted to take a shower…” You snap, looking up at him angrily a split second before he captures your mouth in a kiss, cutting off any remaining argument.

“Ya, I remembered.” His lips hover just above yours, ghosting over them as he spoke. “I needed one too, so I thought this would be easier.” You grab a fist full of his crimson hair, the same hair you were intent to drag him out by seconds earlier, and crush your lips against his in a breathless, passionate kiss.

Water from the rainfall shower cascades down over your bodies, soothing your muscles as a new ache begins to develop. This one is lower, but just as powerful, and crying out for satisfaction. Judging by the bulge currently pressing against your stomach, getting harder by the second, Renji was having similar thoughts.

A quick nip to your lower lip seals the kiss as his mouth works over your cheeks, your ear, your jaw, and down your chest, leaving not a single inch of skin untouched, devouring you. Panting for breath, warm water running over your bodies, you glance down to see Renji looking up at you, capturing your gaze as his tongue peeks out between his full lips and licks your stiff nipple – dancing across the rosy bud – before enveloping the entire breast in his mouth.

“Renji!” A gasp echoes loudly in the bathroom acoustics, beating out the sounds of running water. Your spine arches, craving more of his sinful lips on your body as he moves over to the other side, his fingers groping and pinching where his mouth had just left.

Renji drags his body up along yours, hard muscles and ink pressing into your soft curves. He kisses you quickly, before moving back to your jaw, all lips, tongue – and teeth. The fingers of one hand pinch your nipple, rolling the little bud in his strong hand before creeping lower. He reaches between your thighs, fingers trailing slowly down your slit before plunging a calloused digit into your heat.

Another noise reverberates off the bathroom walls, one that’s music to Renji’s ears. Some combination of a moan, hitched breathes, and his name escapes your lips as you lean forward, dropping your head onto his shoulder. “oh-ahhhh… Renji…” A second finger joins the first, as his thumb reaches up to your clit, rubbing a few brief circles there before he frees his hand, leaving you wanting more.

Opening your mouth to protest the loss, you feel his wide palms grab your ass and push you up against the cool tile wall in one swift motion, right where he wants you. Reaching between your bodies, you wrap a hand around his hard dick, encouraging him forward. He stops just barely out of reach, grinning wildly and making you glare. What a goddamned tease.

“Want something, babe?” He asks, his words breathy in your ear, betraying his own barely contained lust for you.

“You jerk. I want yo—ooohhhh.” Your lips seal shut as he pushes his hips forward, cutting off any further thought, or need for complaint. Tight muscles give way, just enough, to allow him entrance. Your nails sink into his back, as he drives forward, then pulls back slightly. Renji’s head drops to your shoulder, kissing your skin, but he’s breathing heavily, trying to take a moment to adjust.

You allow him only a few seconds before the need to feel him takes over all reason and civility. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him, in an effort to gain stability, you lift your hips off the cool tile at your back, driving them into the hard muscle at your front.

“Fuck, babe…” He groans, pressing his forehead to yours as he thrusts your hips back up against the tile with one hard drive. You feel your desire for him building the longer you gaze into his brown eyes, losing yourself in the chocolate colored pools the longer you stare.  

You don’t even notice your walls tightening down, fluttering against his cock as he fills you again and again, each plunge into your body going deeper than the last. Moaning, you bite your lip, cinch your eyes shut, and dig your fingers into his black ink a little deeper.

“mmm… like that, baby?” His voice is soft next to your ear, but his words are even hotter than the water still cascading over you. Your body responds faster than your mouth and the pulsating rhythm of your inner walls becomes more even, stroking him with every thrust.

“Gods, Renji. More, please!” You demand, arching your hips into his as much as you can, determined to hang on just a little longer…  

“Come for me, ___.” He whispers before covering your lips with his in another kiss that’s slow and sensual, mimicking the motions of your bodies below. Breaking the kiss, you’re both desperate for breath, but craving further contact as you press your foreheads together again. One of your hands winds into his beautiful red locks to hold him closer.

One look into Renji’s deep brown eyes and one more thrust into your heated channel was all it took for you to let your climax – finally – wash over your body. The muscles throughout your body tighten, pulling against his length, drawing out his own release as he fills you one last time.

Once both of your aftershocks had subsided, Renji sets you down gently, keeping a steadying hand on your back for support as you go about washing each other, grinning and sated. This was always your second favorite part of showering together.

***

Renji tenderly wrapped you in a towel before reaching for one himself, letting it hang low and unintentionally exposing the cut lines of his hips. Your fingers quickly secure your own towel before reaching out to him, stroking your thumbs in the delineation between muscle and soft skin.

He hums appreciatively as you slip the knot on his towel free, letting it cascade to the floor. Wrapping a hand around his length, you lean up to kiss him, continuing your strokes until he’s fully hard again.

“I thought you were tired?” Renji asks, grinning down at you as he pulls at the knot of your towel until it falls to the ground at your feet.

“I said I wanted to stay in bed all weekend. I didn’t say we’d be sleeping the whole time.”  

#renji abarai #renji x reader #buriedinbleach #ao3 #reader insert #warning: smut ahead #all work and no play

[vickdrops]

Earthquakes [Bucky x Reader]

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader Genre: fluffy protective!bucky for y’all Warnings: m language!  A/N: sorry for the lack of updates lately!! I broke my collarbone a couple of days ago, so I’m in a lot of pain and can barely move, let alone type up a new fic :P Hope you guys can bear with me. But for now, here’s an old fluffy piece I dug up- enjoy! feedback is adored <3

They’re sprawled on the sofa, the remnants of their afternoon scattered around them in the forms of empty coffee mugs and fluffy pillows. Amidst the little pillow and blanket nest: Bucky and Y/N.

He yawns, arching his back and letting out a long, content sigh as he stretched lazily. Y/N is snuggled underneath his right arm, reading him one of her favourite books. Bucky reckons that today’s a day he’ll remember for a while, because they’ve done nothing but cuddle and tell each other jokes and watch movies and play silly card games, and it’s been amazing.

She’s amazing.

And just as she’s reading him the final sentence of the book, in her smooth, mellow voice that has comforted him through countless numbers of nightmares, his stomach interrupts with a low growl. Y/N laughs, twisting her head up and look at him as the book fell into the blanket on her lap.

“Was that an earthquake I heard?” she teases, and Bucky grins.

“Only a tiny one. A nine on the richter scale, maybe,” he jokes.

“Oh no,” she teases. “Well we’d better get you some food before you start a tsunami or something.” Y/N stretches, letting out a sigh just as content and long as Bucky’s. She rolls off the couch, landing not-so-gracefully and with a muffled oomf. He snorts, peering over the edge of the couch to see Y/N lying in a tangle of blankets, narrowing her eyes up at him. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

“Too late,” he snickers. She rolls her eyes and pulls him to the floor; she kisses him softly and slowly, only pulling apart to laugh when his stomach rumbles again- even louder this time.

They decide to venture out into the city, both of them feeling a little restless after spending an entire day cooped up inside. Bucky, especially, hates being still for too long. (Probably because he’s spent enough time being frozen...but he tries not to think of that).

A little pizzeria catches Y/N’s eye as they’re riding along on Bucky’s motorcycle; it’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, with oddly arranged flower pots hanging from the ceiling, and a bright red eave that had ‘Borelli’s’ embroidered neatly on it.

Bucky parks his bike and slips off his helmet.

“I think we need a ticket.” He looks around and spots a parking meter on the other side of the street, a little distance away from the front of the restaurant. “I’ll be right back,” he says, hopping off the bike. She hums in acknowledgement, a small smile appearing on her lips when she feels him press a soft kiss on her forehead.

She heads to the front of the restaurant, her satchel swinging against her thigh as she hoists it over her shoulder. She’s suddenly starving, too, and she’s impatient for Bucky to get back so they can finally get some actual food; they’d been eating gummy bears and drinking coffee all day...probably not the best diet. She smiles to herself when she thinks about her and Bucky, because nothing has changed a bit since their wedding- they’re still so in love and she’s so happy, and today had been such a perfect day.

“Hey sugar!” A low whistle causes Y/N to lift her head in surprise. A man in a tight black top and skinny jeans, with greasy-looking hair pulled back into a loose bun at the crown of his head, is staring at her with a leering smirk. Y/N grips her satchel a little tighter. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all alone on a night like this?”

Well, this is new. Y/N hasn’t ever been wolf-whistled at or hit on before- especially not in public by a man who looks like he might as well be homeless. She reckons it’s because she rarely leaves the tower without Bucky, and, well, most men don’t like to approach a girl when they’re standing with someone who looks like they could rip you apart in ten seconds flat. (Not that they’d be wrong).

“Night like what? Tuesday?” she bites back, unimpressed with how he’s looking at her like a piece of meat.

“Feisty,” he laughs, stepping closer to her. Y/N takes a step back. “I like that in a girl.”

“Good for you. Look, you better piss off, alright, before my husband gets back,” she snaps. And trust me, you don’t want to be here when he does, she adds in her mind.

“Husband? Sweetheart, you could at least try to make up a believable lie,” the man laughs. He steps closer, and Y/N can’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken.

“You want something believable?” A voice suddenly snarls from behind him, making Y/N feel a mixture of both relief and fear, because on one hand, thank God he’s back, but on the other...Y/N can see the dangerous glint in Bucky’s eyes all the way from where she’s standing. She’d hate to be on the receiving end of that glare. Bucky grips the collar of the man’s black shirt with his left arm, and growls in a deadly tone, “I’m going to fuck you up if you don’t get out of my sight in the next two seconds. Go ahead, tell me if I’m lying.”

“What the fuck, man?” the man yelps. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Her husband, dumbass.”

“Alright, alright- fuck, you need to chill, dude,” the stranger says, stepping back and holding his hands up in a surrender. “She’s not wearing a ring, I thought the bitch was single.”

Oh no.

Y/N sprints forwards until she’s between the two men, because she knows Bucky, and she also knows that this guy is about to end up in the goddamn hospital if she doesn’t stop it.

“Okay, mate, you better walk away right now before this bitch punches you in the face,” she threatens, one arm on Bucky’s left arm, gently holding him back; she can feel him breathing heavily, and the metal plates of his arm are shifting underneath her grip, as if he’s just itching to wrap his fingers around this guy’s neck. The man opens his mouth again, looking affronted, but Y/N cuts him off before he can say anything else. “Now!” she demands, giving him her best death stare. People never know when to stop, do they?

He scoffs, rolling his eyes in a last-ditch attempt to save his pride, and then he turns around and quickly shuffles away, muttering swear words under his breath.

Y/N waits until he’s out of sight before letting go of Bucky; she turns around and looks up at him warily, before reaching a hand up and cupping his cheeck. He’s still glaring after the man, but when he feels her touch, his eyes flicker down to meet hers, and they instantly soften.

“You okay?” she asks, linking her other free hand with his left. He sighs, holding her hand tightly.

“I wanted to kill him,” he muttered, his breathing still heavy, like he’s calming himself down. She smiles softly, and playfully rolls her eyes.

“C’mon Bucky, I’m not worth murdering over,” she laughs, but Bucky just gives her a look.

“Yes, you are,” he says simply.

They stare at each other for a moment longer, before she leans in and presses her lips to his. Their mouths move together easily, like two puzzle pieces slotting into place. Y/N and Bucky are like tea and biscuits (or in their case, coffee and gummy bears): pretty nice on their own, but perfect together. The kiss is passionate and slow and comforting.

Bucky reckons it feels like home.

And if the kiss is home, then Bucky’s stomach is the doorbell, because it lets out a hulk-sized grumble, causing the two to pull apart.

“We seriously need to get you some pizza, Mr Barnes,” Y/N laughs, tugging him towards the door of the restaurant. He follows with a silly smile on his face.

Masterlist

#bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfiction #marvel fic #avengers x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #marvel masterlist #bucky masterlist