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sonnetsoncanvas · 7 months

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Why was this sooooooo hot

Like Someone I Know

summary: You decide to take a break from studying and go to a masked party but your casual hookup turns out to be your biggest rival, Bucky Barnes.

pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

warnings: 18+, academic rivals, alcohol consumption, hidden identities, hookup, boob worship, semi-public sex, pet names, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, no mention of y/n.

word count: 2.4K

A/N: @notafunkiller gave me "I don't care if they're gonna see it. I'm not giving them back." and academic rivals as prompt and now here we are… I hope you enjoy this random story. Thanking Andreea also for the editing and for the name suggestion. She’s the best!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Keep reading tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

This isn’t like you. You don’t find people attractive this easily, let alone hook up with them at a party, right after meeting them. It feels surreal… like you are having some kind of a fever dream. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol you consumed, but you don’t feel tipsy. So maybe not.

His hands roam on your body, hungrily discovering every inch. His lips are relentless, sucking and licking. It feels so damn good and it’s just so hard to resist. You deserve to let go sometimes. You work so hard, right? It’s okay to hook up with a handsome stranger. Well, you aren’t sure about the handsome part. Not when half of his face is covered by some kind of mask, but his piercing blue eyes tell you he might be the most handsome man you have ever seen. They also seem familiar somehow and you don’t know how that’s possible.

He stops kissing you, while his hands are still on your hips. He looks you in the eye, and it makes you shiver. You finally realize why he feels so familiar and it makes you uncomfortable. Those blue eyes… They remind you of Bucky Barnes. Why on earth would you find someone attractive because they look like him?

“Is everything alright?”

Even his voice… It sounds kinda like him. Not completely though. Bucky’s voice is usually harsher. He sounds like he’s trying to poison you with words. Especially when he makes fun of you after getting a better grade. God, you hate him so much.

“Yeah, yeah.” Your answer sounds so absent and not convincing at all.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I just realized you look like someone I know.”

“Oh, darling…” God, the way he smiles! There’s no way this man can be ugly. That smile punches you in your stomach. “There’s no way you know me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I would remember a beauty like you.”

That makes you laugh. It sounds so cheesy. Plus he can’t even see half of your face. How could he even remember you?

“I mean it.”

“I’m sure you used that line on girls before.”

“I can’t say…” He stops for a second, trying to find the right words. “I do this often.”

“You mean hooking up with strangers at a party?”

“No.” His answer confuses you for a second. “Hooking up at all.”

Oh, that can’t be true. Those blue eyes can convince anyone to do anything. Maybe he’s just trying to make you feel special, and truth be told, it doesn’t matter. You don’t know him.

“Why is that?”

His hands caress your hips gently. “Usually… I don’t let myself get distracted.”

“Sorry for distracting you, then.”

Your playful answer makes him smile. He starts kissing your neck. His hands move on your ass, kneading while he keeps on kissing you. His lips move closer and closer to your cleavage. You know this is your last chance to say anything if you don’t wanna go further, but you can’t find the strength in yourself to stop him. His lips are soft and wet on your skin. Every kiss he lays on your skin makes you want more. You don’t know if you can stop him.

Suddenly he grabs your tits, pushing them together while he buries his head between them. It makes you gasp, and he inhales your scent like he can’t get enough of it.

“I want them in my mouth.”

He looks up, his eyes pleading for your consent.

“Can I?”

“Someone might come in any time.” You don’t wanna get caught like that. “They might see us.”

"I don't care if they're gonna see it. I'm not giving them back." His response makes you smile. He sounds so desperate while still holding your tits. And like it isn’t enough, he starts to beg. “Please… Can I?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You sound breathy, just because of the anticipation. You just want to enjoy this moment, not thinking about anything else.

He pushes down the straps. He doesn’t even bother unclasping your bra. He just frees your tits and starts sucking on your nipple. Your head is thrown back with sudden pleasure. His tongue dances around your nipple, making you squirm.

“God, you are so delicious.”

He switches to your other nipple. He licks, bites, and sucks while you try to keep your voice down. It’s not easy. A couple of moans slip away. You are just glad this is a party and the music is loud enough to conceal any sound you make.

Suddenly he lets go of your nipple. The wet pop makes you bite your lip.

“I really need to taste you.” You give him a confused look. Isn’t he already doing that? “Down there.” He quickly adds.

You don’t know what to say. You expected a quick fuck at best, that’s what the girls told you. Don’t have high expectations for hookups. They end pretty quickly and you might end up unsatisfied. But he’s proving you wrong every step of the way.

He keeps looking at you with a glow. God, his eyes are so freaking beautiful! Even if you didn’t want that, it would be so hard to say no. You finally nod, giving him permission.

“Thank you.” He quickly gets on his knees and hikes up your dress.

He starts to kiss your thighs, then he brings his nose onto your clothed pussy and just inhales.

“You smell so freaking good, d-darling.”

The praise makes you shiver. Not just because you aren’t used to it, but he also sounds so much like Bucky when he says darling. He calls you doll in a way that makes you feel degraded. Like you’re nothing more than a beautiful doll. No brains. No talent. Just there to look pretty. But this time… It doesn’t make you feel small. It makes you feel like a goddess.

Your shivering doesn’t go unnoticed, though. He smiles like a devil, looking into your eyes. Then he grabs your underwear and just pushes it down. You feel unbelievably exposed. Your breasts are sticking out of your dress while your pussy is right in front of him. But the hunger on his face makes you feel better.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He licks his lips before diving in. He grabs one of your legs and hikes it up on his shoulder, creating more space for himself to work.

He starts you eat you eagerly. His tongue moves smoothly between your folds and he sets a pace that makes it harder to shut your mouth. His tongue discovers every inch of you. Then suddenly he switches on sucking your clit, making you moan loudly.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

You feel him smile as he stops sucking for a second. His hands reach for your hips, steadying you while he goes back to sucking your clit. Once again your head is thrown back. You try to steady your breathing, but it doesn’t work. Your orgasm comes crashing in.

“Fuckk! I’m coming!” You don’t realize how loud you say it. You don’t realize how harshly you grab his hair and make him moan against your clit. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not until your shaking calms down.

The moment he’s sure you rode out every last bit of your orgasm, he moves away from you. When he looks up, he realizes your mask moved a little bit. Just enough to make him recognize who you are. His eyes are wide open, but you don’t notice any of it. You are still breathing heavily, trying to collect yourself.

He suddenly stands up and places his hands on the wall, caging you in. He looks like he wants to say something, but he can’t find the words. You assume it’s because of his unmet needs. So instead of questioning him, you move your hands to his pants. He watches you unbuckling and unzipping him. Then you look back at his face, silently asking for permission, and he nods.

You get rid of his pants and boxers with his help before he grabs his cock like he’s getting ready. Your words, though, stop him.

“We are not doing this without a condom.”

You don’t know what you expected, but you didn’t expect him to smile.

“Smart girl.”

The way he says that turns you on even more. The only problem is that he starts to sound more and more like Bucky. While you are trying to push away the thought of your biggest rival, he takes his wallet out and finds a condom.

“You don’t do this often, but you have a condom in your wallet.” You can’t help but point out.

“Every guy has one in their wallet. Just in case…” He responds while putting on the condom. “Doesn’t mean we think we’ll get lucky.”

“Well, you are certainly getting lucky tonight.”

“Oh, don’t I know it?”

He suddenly lifts you up against the wall. It’s so unexpected, yet it makes your blood rush. His lips find yours once again, but this time, it feels different. You don’t know what changed. You can’t put your finger on it. It was already passionate, hungry, and curious before, but this time… It’s just on another level.

“Ready?” You know what he’s asking about.

“Yeah.” You find yourself nodding and he smiles.

“That eager, huh?” His voice is deep and full of impatience, but also some kind of belittlement. God, that Bucky really messed up with your head.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He gently pushes himself inside you, and you can’t help but moan out loud. A part of you feels embarrassed that you can’t seem to shut your mouth. You’re not used to this. It makes you feel exposed.

“Yes!” He sounds like he accomplished the most important thing in the world. “Don’t hold back those pretty sounds.”

You don’t know what to say, all you can focus on is the way his words make you wetter and wetter. You feel like you are discovering a part of you that you didn’t know existed. Maybe all you need is to hear how good you are doing. Is it why you are working this hard to get the best grades possible?

He doesn’t let you question more about yourself when he finally starts to move. It feels so overwhelming that you forget about anything else.

“Oh god…” He moans right next to your ear as his fingers are gripping on your skin. “You are so wet, doll.” You freeze. What did he just say?

“Bucky?”

Your heart starts to race faster than before. You don’t know what you are feeling. Shock, fear, excitement… This might be your worst nightmare. Or your biggest dream.

“I swear to god,” he starts to talk with haste, trying to explain himself before you get the wrong idea. “I didn’t know it was you. You have to believe me.” The fear in his voice is so audible. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him fearing something like this before. “After your first orgasm,your mask slipped a little.”

You suddenly feel relief washing over you. You felt so dumb for a second, thinking he might have tricked you. Knowing he’s afraid just like you helps a lot. He didn’t plan this. Maybe it's just a twist of fate. You reach for his mask and take it off without saying anything. There’s no need for it anymore. He smiles in response. You can see he wants to do the same, but he’s still carrying you, so you take off your own mask, too

He looks into your eyes, trying to see if you are still okay with this.

“Come on, big guy, move!”

His devilish grin returns. He bounces you on his arms, securing your position, and then starts to move again. His lips find yours, and you moan into his mouth. You can’t believe you are actually having sex with Bucky Barnes. You have had a couple of wet dreams about him, but you never thought it would turn into reality. You never thought he would be into you. He starts to lose control and move faster than before.

“Oh shit!” You feel like you might come soon. “Faster. Please!”

“So needy.” He grips on your ass. You don’t know why but his words rub you the wrong way.

“Don’t belittle me.” You snap back, and it makes him stop. You frown, thinking he’s gonna get you off and leave you unsatisfied.

“I never belittle you.” He’s looking into your eyes. “I never meant to belittle you.”

“You are not?” You always thought he was. You thought he was trying to put you down, demotivate you. Even if he was saying something nice.

“Never, doll. You are the smartest person I have ever met.”

You never heard him say this before. Maybe he just didn’t want to admit it back then.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“And the prettiest girl.”

You crash your lips onto his, kissing him like you can’t survive without it. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear something like this coming from him. He moans into your mouth while he starts to move again.

“I don’t think-” He sounds so pained. “I can- hold back any longer.”

You’re not so far away from reaching your climax. All you need is him moving just a bit harder, then you might be able to come with him.

“Please, come with me!” You don’t care how desperate it sounds. “I just need it a little harder.”

That breaks his defense. He starts to move so fast that it takes your breath away. After a couple of thrusts, your body starts to shake uncontrollably.

“Bucky!” You can’t stay silent. “I’m- coming.”

“Come for me, doll. Make a mess.” His thrusts grow sloppier. You can see he’s losing control because of you. “So fucking pretty. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” You are sure his grip on your ass will leave some bruises, but you don’t care. It feels so good. He makes you feel so good. “Oh fuck!”

He looks so pretty while he’s coming. The way he moans… The way his eyes flutter with each thrust… You watch every detail while coming yourself, wanting to memorize it.

Then he opens his eyes. His pretty blue eyes shine in a way that feels warm, cozy, and downright giddy.

“I can’t believe we really did that.” He’s still holding you. You wonder how that is even possible. You always thought he looked strong, but this is on another level.

“Now tell me,” You sound confident and satisfied. “For how long did you want to do that?”

He chuckles in a way that makes you feel needy all over again.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

#smutofmydreams #academic rivals #bucky barnes x reader

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sonnetsoncanvas · 7 months

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I did something 😭

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #fanart

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sonnetsoncanvas · 7 months

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James: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Remus: You're like 15 years old James: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

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sonnetsoncanvas · 9 months

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did bucky cheated on her or no? you didn't explain that part, but i loved loved this series, you're a great writer 💗💗💗

Thank you soooo much for reading💗💗

No Bucky did not cheat on her. He broke up with her only because he was insecure about his disability and was scared he’d be holding her back.

He did have a few unsuccessful relationships after their break up but no, he didn’t cheat .

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sonnetsoncanvas · 9 months

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Mess it up : pt 6 (Series Finale)

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT AHEAD, masturbation (M ), oral (F receiving), fingering, overstimulation, Dirty talk? Cum play if you squint, possessive bucky.

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: WE'RE AT THE END OF THIS SERIES!!! Oh my god I can't believe it. Thank you so, so much for all the love and appreciation you guys have shown to this <3. Thank you for bearing with my tardiness with the updating, I'm planning to be more punctual in the future. I'm also opening the asks shortly. Happy reading! (it's a long one),

Let it happen. Let it happen

Reader POV:

The conversation flowed seamlessly.

The food and the wine were sublime.

In front of you sat a man so beautiful, he surely would have been Aphrodite’s favourite.

And yet, you felt nothing. Not the flutter of a single butterfly, not the warm fuzz of budding attraction. Nothing. Nada.

Your brain did not compute, Pietro was a great guy. Good looking, kind, intellectual. On paper, he was a good, if not a perfect match for you.

And yet you could not feel that connection that your heart had been longing for. The notorious “spark” had been missing during the entire interaction.

You’re just out of practice, your brain reasoned, but your heart had a different opinion, in which you weren’t interested.

Suddenly, the hair at the back of your neck stood up, a warning of sorts. A warning your intuition gave you whenever he was around.

Surreptitiously you tried looking around, while slightly nodding your head to show your interest in whatever Pietro was talking about. A little more to your left…….

There he was. Dressed in leather, eyes dripping with dangerous enigma. Staring at you.

You held his heated gaze for what felt like sometime, your heart jumpstarting in your chest.

What is he doing here? And more importantly, why?

You turned your head back towards Pietro, who hadn’t noticed you were distracted, and tried your best to focus on him.

You had promised yourself while leaving the house that you won’t let Bucky ruin this date for you, and you won’t.

But the date itself went downhill from there. Sitting in front of Pietro, you realised how self-centred and smug he was. What you had clearly misjudged as confidence during your brief meeting, was most obviously narcissism. Not only had he not asked you a single question about yourself, he had rudely butted in whenever you tried to talk, hogging all of the conversation and making it about him.

Frankly, you were irritated. In between the ceaseless yammering from Pietro and Bucky’s heated gaze burning a hole in the back of your head, you were exhausted. By the time dessert arrived, you were ready to go home.

But of course, Mr. Self-absorbed Maximoff wasn’t having it.

“What do you mean you’ll be going home now? The night has just started Y/N. Tell you what, come back to my place, we’ll have a couple of drinks and then we can start having some fun.”

Alright, so being polite isn’t working, time to be direct with him and get this over with.

“I don’t think so Pietro. You’re cool and all, but I honestly do not see anything happening between us, based on today. So, let’s just call it a day, okay?” you had already paid your half of the bill, so you grabbed your bag, ready to leave. But just looking at his face, his male ego had been bruised, and he was ready to give you a piece of his mind.

Great. As if you already didn’t have enough of that all evening.

“Based on today? What are you talking about, we had a great date. Seriously what else do you expect on a first date?! What a waste of an evening! I was saddled with a boring, lacklustre date, a grandma really, and you don’t see me complaining….”

“Men” you thought. You were about to stand up and leave, ready to leave this man to spluttering to himself, when you felt an overbearing presence approach. You immediately knew who it was.

“Is that a way to talk to a lady?” Bucky asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“umm heyyy Bucky? How’s it going?” Pietro was surprised and probably intimidated by him, if you read his face correctly. If he had a bit of self-preservation, he would have left before Bucky would explode, but of course he had to keep talking about how long it’s been since he last saw him to divert his attention.

But the fuming 6ft boulder next to you was having none of that. “Apologise” he commanded, the danger in his voice palpable.

Pietro paled. “I’m sorry, What?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will apologise to y/n for the way you talked to her, and leave before I kick your sorry ass.”

“How dare you threaten me….” Pietro was now stuttering, standing up to face Bucky, only to have his collar grabbed by the displeased man. The patrons of the bar were now very interested in this exchange, a few of whom had their phones out, recording the ordeal.

You were too tired for this shit, but also you couldn’t leave Bucky here, ready to break your date’s bones.

You tugged his arm to stop him from raining fire at Pietro through his eyes and look at you instead.

“I’m really tired and need a ride home. Drive me back. Please.”

His eyes immediately softened, his rage transforming into tenderness. You tried to ignore your heart going berserk and focus on the crisis at hand.

“Whatever you need, doll”

That endearment had you frozen. It was his nickname for you from years ago, used in secrecy, whispered in dark for your ears only.

The way he said it after so long, unbidden, in front of an audience, had rendered you speechless. You were too stunned to react even as he led you out of the bar by hand, cocooning you away from prying eyes.

Bucky’s POV

Bucky was angry. No, he was furious. Offended.

Not at you. never at you. but at himself. At the shitty situation he was in.

And most of all at Pietro Fucking Maximoff. How dare that son of a bitch talk to you like that. He hated that he left that turd unharmed, his hands still itching to punch that fucker’s smug face. If only it hadn’t been for you.

He looked over at you, lost in your own thoughts in the passenger seat, understandably upset, but also pensive. What would he not give to know what you were thinking.

Did you like Pietro? Were you hoping to get asked out to another date, and he ruined it?

He didn’t dare voice his questions though. As soon as the car stopped you jumped out, slamming the door behind you. normally, Bucky won’t let this slide, but right now the well being of his beloved car was the last thing on his mind as he ran behind you, tossing the keys to the doorman.

He entered the elevator right behind you, but kept his silence as he didn’t want his neighbours in there have a show. As soon as you both entered the apartment, you hurried towards your room, a frantic Bucky in tow.

“Y/N LISTEN TO ME! LET’S TALK ABOUT IT.” He wedged his foot between the door and the frame as you tried to shut it on him. “Y/N HEAR ME OUT FOR GOD’S SAKE!”

Thank goodness Steve and Natasha were sleeping at her place tonight, or that would be another headache to deal with.

He heard you take a deep, calming breath and slowly the door opened.

“Yes, James, what would you like to talk about?” you asked, your eyes burning with rage, “How you crashed the first date I’ve had in years? Or how you viciously threatened a friend of mine, and yours, publicly, with bodily harm?”

You took a step forward, reducing the distance between you even further “Or maybe you can shed some light on why the hell were you there in the first place?”

Bucky remained quiet, a thousand things swirling in his mind, but none of them came to his lips.

He was genuinely scared of this version of you, the menacing lawyer you who’d rip her opposition to shreds. And to be honest, a little turned on. Very turned on in fact.

Trust his brain to malfunction when it comes to you.

“You wanted me to hear you out, I’m listening James.”

Your eyes bore into his, and he could feel his heart trying to escape his chest.

“I was in that Bar to see you, doll.”

Bucky could’ve easily lied, told you that he was there to see someone, that Sam brought him there. But he was done. Done with lying to you, to the world, hiding the love he had for you deep in his heart as if it were a filthy secret when it was the purest thing he ever felt.

From now on, this very moment, he’s shedding that cloak, baring his soul to you.

You looked surprised at his statement but recovered quickly, “Why?”

“Because I didn’t trust that fucker with you. he doesn’t deserve you.”

“And it matters to you, why?”

“Everything you do matters to me. Every breath you take, that air matters to me. Every time you open your eyes, that light matters to me. Each time you speak, that sound matters to me. You matter to me. You’re the only person that has ever mattered to me. Only you doll.” His voice wavered with emotion, but he stood straight, staring right back into your now teary eyes.

He knew you were scared, he could see it in your eyes, but Bucky wasn’t going anywhere. He would endure

You shook your head multiple times before you could speak, “No. no no no no no no, you can’t do this to me again, no. I’m not falling for that again, no. I can’t trust you, there no way to know … no”

You crumbled into him, clutching your heart. He held on to you tightly, even when you started pounding weakly onto his chest. He was never letting you go.

“Let me show you, my love. Let me show you how much I’ve ached for you all these years” he moved back so he could see into your eyes, “Let me show you that you can trust me.”

It started with a small brush of your lips against his. Bucky did not know who did it, he didn’t care. All he cared for was the animalistic desire welling up inside him, his heart and mind screaming with relief. What began as a tender, comforting kiss turned into a fierce war of dominance. You were nothing if not competitive, kissing Bucky back as if he’s your last chance at survival.

He tugged your lower lip; you pulled his hair. You pushed your tongue in his mouth; he tangled it with his.

It was an equal transaction of desperation and longing, and Bucky’s heart rejoiced. You were fighting, not resisting, which meant that you were burnt by the same fire that had consumed him for the past four years.

Your hands wandered down from his hair to his neck to finding the muscles on his back until they reached their destination, the hem of his t-shirt. You impatiently tugged on it, pulling it up his waist. Bucky got the hint, and without thinking, broke the kiss off to get rid of it. And froze.

He was half naked, his chest bare, his magnificent abs on display. But that wasn’t what concerned him. It was the way you were looking at the scars on his left shoulder, the stump where his metal arm was joined to his shoulder socket. Bucky had never cared what anybody thought of it, but seeing you look at it terrified him. What if you were horrified by it; disgusted? What if you thought of him as some charity, as a chore?

Bucky knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but if heard you say it out loud, it would kill him.

You lifted your hand to shoulders, your fingers lightly tracing the ragged lines, that were still red, even after years of medication. Tears rimmed his eyes when you bent down to kiss them, your tongue repeating your finger’s actions. When you raised your head to look at him, full of tenderness and love, all the negative thoughts in Bucky’s head vanished, replaced by reverence for his doll

“Y/N” he whispered.

“Don’t hide yourself Bucky, not from me.” He was too emotional to register that it was your first time calling him Bucky in so many days, but the sound of his name from your mouth aroused a primal, protective, almost violent emotion.

There is no way he is letting you go now. It isn’t physically possible for him.

He grabs you like a frenzied caveman, throwing you onto the bed with surprising gentleness and buries his head in your neck, sucking, biting and licking, ensuring that your neck is marked with his devotion for you. his hand, in the meantime, travelled down to your chest, caressing your breasts. His tongue laved on one nipple, while his metal fingers lightly pinched the other. The opposing hot and cold sensations made you dizzy, a wanton moan slipping out.

“BUCKY” you whined, wriggling your body as he worshipped your breasts.

“Calm down, sugar. You don’t want me tying you down to the bed, now do you?” he said in this sweet, maddeningly low voice that he knew drove you to the brink, and slowly made his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses. His lush lips were swollen already, but he didn’t care. For years he had starved for your taste, and now that he’s getting a bite, he’s gonna devour you all.

With this new determination he slinks down to your thighs, kissing the scattering of hair on your mound before sinking into that sweet perfection between your legs. He took a deep breath, inhaling your arousal, your whines growing more insistent, begging and pleading him to do something, anything about the burning craving in your belly.

“You’re fucking soaked for me doll.” He said, gliding his fingers through your slit, collecting your dripping arousal . He couldn’t resist putting his fingers into his mouth, tasting that sweet tangy essence of your desire. He moaned, loud , as if it was the most delicious this his tongue had ever tasted.

You looked on, your eyes dazed by this shameless side of the well mannered Bucky Barnes. It had been so fucking long since you’d seen him this uninhibited, you sometimes wondered whether it was your brain making up how filthy he used to be.

But right here, right now, was the truth. James Buchanan Barnes was the filthiest, nastiest lover ever, and he was about to ruin you, again.

He slowly licked your slit, relishing in the feel of it. And then, after a calm second, pounced on your pussy like a mad man.

He kissed and sucked your clit, his flesh hand busy with your pussy while his metal one curled around your thigh, spreading it wide and keeping you still. His index finger slowly inching in your tight entrance. His brain short circuited at the feel of you around his finger, his cock throbbing painfully at the thought of being in you.

“Look at you doll, so tight, so wet. I’d have to stretch you out now, don’t I?” He added another finger, scissoring them inside you, earning a particularly loud moan from you. Bucky was sure by this time he had rendered you to your cockdrunk state. It was a thing you did, retreating to your subspace as he drew out pleasure from your body.

The thought that you still trusted him him enough to leave your guard down like this drove him crazy. “You want more baby?” he implored, digging his metal fingers in your skin so that you’d become lucid enough to answer him, but you were too far gone, lost in the sensations of him.

Just then an idea hit him, he extracted wet warm fingers from your pussy, eliciting a cute whine from you, and switched hands, pushing his metal fingers past your entrance.

The unfamiliar feel and cold temperature of the metal jerked you out of your haze, a surprised welp coming out of your mouth as he smirked, bending down to give you a messy kiss. He kept bombarding your mouth, nose and cheeks with sweet open-mouthed kisses, just as he increased the pace of his fingers pumping into you faster and harder, curving them to brush your G-spot in a way he had learned to years ago. His thumb rubbing cool slow circles on your clit.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was rutting on your thigh, his still clothed cock dripping with pre-cum, finding sweet relief while hem focused on your shivering, writhing body. He knew by the intensity of your moans and the clenching of your pussy that you were close, you just needed something extra to tip you over the edge. And boy, did Bucky know how to do that.

He knelt back to your pussy, lightly taking your clit between his teeth while his tongue swirled on it. It was enough to push you over the edge, and you screamed out as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. Bucky didn’t let go though, doing it over and over again even as your pussy was convulsing around his fingers, until you came again with a frightening intensity.

Reader’s POV

You’d almost passed out, unaware of your surroundings, unaware that Bucky was jerking himself off as you lay there, the sight of you bare and blissfully satisfied more than enough for him to chase his own release. You’d closed your eyes, ready for a much-needed sleep, when you dimly registered his loud moan and a warm spurt on your abdomen. You drifted to your dreams with him whispering in your ears, of how much he loves you, of how he’ll never let you go, of how he’ll bring the world to your feet, if you let him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes fluttered open to harsh sunlight seeping from the window. You tried to keep them closed, to stay in that heavenly state for a little bit more before the reality comes crashing in. but when you finally couldn’t, your heart started palpitating with realization.

You were naked, nestled comfortably in Bucky’s arm, who naked as well, gloriously so. Last night came rushing back to you, of how he make you cum so many times on his face and fingers, how he came so filthily on you then. How he woke you up in the middle of the night just to kiss you again, make promises with his tongue and fingers.

Fuck ! you were screwed. The only way your brain could function normally right now was if you put some distance between the two of you.

You tried to pry yourself from his arm, hot and heavy over your waist, his warm breath coming down the back of your neck. This is the thing that you have craved the most all these years, the peaceful home in his arms, the comfort of knowing that there’s a place in this world where you can be soft and fragile.

But can you, really?

Wasn’t all the pain and heartache you’ve suffered because you were weak, vulnerable, breakable, for him?

There no fucking way you’ll allow that to happen, not when the life you have sleeplessly worked towards is finally within your reach, you will not squander it over this man, not again, not when he didn’t care about the first time around.

With some difficulty you’re able to get out of his hold, only for him to whine adorably in his sleep. Quickly you pull down his discarded black T-shirt over your head. Since the both of you were in your room, you had to be super quiet about getting your bag, which had a few of your necessities, most importantly your laptop. You crept in the washroom and the adjoining closet, collected your toiletries and clothes as quietly as you could and stuffed them in there. You’d care about orderliness later.

But right when you thought you could tiptoe you way out of this mess, He is awake, sitting against the headrest, the pout on his sleep mussed face betraying his displeasure.

“You sneaking out on me Doll?” His husky morning voice melting your inside, before you tamp it down.

“I have to….leave. Something came up” You lie through your teeth, too flustered to even make it convincing enough.

“I wonder what exactly could be so urgent that required you to leave the bed without a word, and pack your bag, all in a span of five minutes?” His eyebrow arched, guilt streaming your mind. You’d definitely be hurt if it was him doing the same, but how could you stay? In the same room, the same bed with the same man who’d once ruined you. Sure, the past few days were beautiful, your heart alive with hope.

But the fear of him crushing it was too overwhelming. Overwhelming enough for you to let your mask out stoicism slip, baring your terrified self to him.

“I can’t do this Bucky” you said quietly, your voice breaking as you were at the edge of tears.

Within a second, he was there, holding you as you broke down, finally letting your years of supressed angst and heartbreak pour out in front of your culprit. It was cathartic, painful, relieving and sickening.

He held you through it, as you cried, as you hit him on his chest multiple times. When the sobs stops quaking your body, you finally turned to see his tears, his eyes and nose reddened, his face scrunched in pain.

“Let me make it better, Baby.” He pleaded. “Give me one chance and I will make it better my sweet girl. Let it happen.”

Your wounded heart whimpered, deep down knowing that his was the only salve that will soothe it. the words “Yes, I will” were sitting on the tip of your tongue, but years of hurt and insecurity made you sceptical. What happens when you give in to him? What happens when his discards you again? when your relationship has lost its novelty?

“Loving you was difficult Bucky. The secrets we kept, the lies we told, it was super challenging. But learning to unlove you? that has to be the toughest damn thing I’ve ever had to do. I have been trying to do just that for the past four years. And I’ve still not succeeded. Don’t make it more difficult. Please Bucky.” A few more sobs whacked you as you tried to get away from, death grip on your bag as you slowly turned towards the door.

“We can forget that this ever happened. I’ll go to San Francisco; I’ll handle Steve too. You can go on with your life and I will go with mine.” You repeated the same words he had told you all those years ago. You cursed your voice for quivering, as you prepared yourself to leave him, once again.

Bucky stood up straight, rubbing the tears from his face. His voice had recovered its timbre as he spoke, “You wanna go Doll? Fine. Go. You can go to San Francisco, to London, Fuck it baby, you can go to the fucking arctic. Go wherever, but there ain’t no way I’m forgetting this. Us. And I sure as hell won’t let you forget. Because I’ll follow you, all ‘round the Earth if that’s what it takes to earn you again.” He took a step towards you, his eyes burning with passion and determination. “I’ll leave all of this, everything, I’ll leave my name if I have to, but I’m not backing off, not when I know that you crave this as much as I do.”

“If you don’t have the courage to take the leap, that’s okay baby. Cause I will dive in, just for you.”

“Why?” Its all you could muster up.

“Because a life without you my love, is not a life worth living.”

Taglist: @kandis-mom @queerqueenlynn @mayusenpai666 @nothingbettertosay81 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @loustan90 @zannemes @cjand10 @stuffyownswrld @sebastiansstanswhore

@superduckmilkshake @hisredheadedgoddess28 @nothingbettertosay81 @meheki

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

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sonnetsoncanvas · 9 months

Text

Hades: Hey, has anybody seen my top?

Hecate: yeah, Persephone is in the garden

Hades:

Hecate:

Hades: HECATE?!!!

Hecate: Am I wrong?

#is she tho?#lore olympus #incorrect lore olympus quotes #greek mythology #incorrrect quotes #hades and persephone #hades and kore #hecate #funny greek quotes

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sonnetsoncanvas · 10 months

Note

Ummm is there Anne and Gilbert smut fics? With the kind of beautiful words that Anne loves to use?? Thank you sm for doing this for us!!!!

There absolutely are! Here are the ones in my bookmarks! There will be AUs probably thrown in there because sometimes it's easier to write them banging it out in a setting that won't land them married lol. (There are varying levels of smut in these, so heed the tags and warnings listed by the authors. All the E stuff is the second half of the list).

we can follow the sparks (i'll drive) by peterpan_in_neverland

Hot Men in Kilts by Jacqualine

Ineffable Chemistry by jacksparrow589

cardigan by h0lyheadharpies

you and I, let's make the headlines by the_strangest_person

Flashover (n.) by peterpan_in_neverland

your loving is gold by Anonymous

Little Gifts by The_lazy_eye

The Mile High Club by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

The Balm to my Weary Soul by orayofsunshine

Your Best Look by Electric-amp (Ohmygodnighttroll),

Confined by The_lazy_eye

A Summer Storm by WeirdTea

I Wanted To Kiss You Goodnight by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

love is a uniting and binding force by illuminatiny (fleurdelilitu)

my girlfriend, who lives in canada by botanyclub

Willow by coffee666

Thunderstorms by coffee666

step into your skin (i'd rather jump in your bones) by swishandflickwit

Dear Mrs Gardner by BeckyBubbles

the hottest scandals don't always make the front page by the_strangest_person

i just want you (to take me where your heart is) by strayycatss

there's too much love by Anonymous

better than I do by Anonymous

In The Empire Of Thy Heart (Where I Should Solely Be) by RosalieBlack

For Your Eyes Only by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

The Anatomist by botanyclub

The First Rule of Retail by The_lazy_eye

Moonlit, Starstruck by jacksparrow589

thy love is sweeter than wine by illuminatiny (fleurdelilitu)

Mercy by The_lazy_eye

disasters in modern comings-of-age (the party don't start till i walk in) by brothmobile

I Love Thee to the Depth My Soul Can Reach by cherry_knots

Milk by lollercakes

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sonnetsoncanvas · 10 months

Text

This is sooooo good💗💗

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least to times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking from him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He wants to scream "Can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself with the fang during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that struggle to say where are they looking in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

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sonnetsoncanvas · 11 months

Text

Mess it up : pt 5

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!

Chapter 5

Pull myself together, you can watch it happen

Reader POV

It’s been a long time since you dated. Too long, your friends might argue.

But how could you have explained to them that you were scared.

Scared that you will end up giving your heart to another man, again.

Scared that he will shatter it to pieces, again.

Scared that you will never be able to get those pieces together and make yourself whole, again.

So, you did what you did best. Lie. Put on a mask of indifference and make excuses. You’re too busy, there’s too much to do, you cannot afford a distraction. And it worked.

But now, after what happened last night, you needed a distraction. You needed something, someone to take your mind off those six feet of muscle and metal, before you ruin yourself, again.

And here you are, talking to Pietro Maximoff.

He was the twin brother of Wanda Maximoff, the drummer for “The Avengers” and a friend of Steve’s from his music school. Coincidentally he started his Master’s programme at Harvard around the same time you started your law, and it was through Steve you both connected. That and you ran in the same circles made you friendly acquaintances who hung out a bunch of times over the years.

He was a fun, outgoing man, unanticipatedly intelligent. You liked him, but not enough to agree to go out with the few times he did ask you. you weren’t ready to date anyway, and even if you were, you sure as hell wouldn’t go for a reckless womanizer like Pietro, who was notorious all over the campus for his flirting skills.

But maybe that’s what you required right now. A fun, reckless fling without any responsibilities or emotional attachments. And when Natasha happened to mention that Pietro was in the city for a project, you took it as a sign and texted him.

You had no compunctions about making the first move, you took what you wanted, when you wanted it.

He was enthusiastic about your offer to meet up, and so you, Y/N Rogers, dressed up to go out on a date for the first time in four years.

Bucky POV.

Advertisement shoots were going to be the death of him. Bucky was never good at standing still and holding his smile for an extended amount of time, but since “the camera loved him” according to Tony, the Band’s manager, here he was, struck in an endless day of flashes and posing.

But as he started for home at the end of the day, his fatigue seemed to melt away at the thought of seeing you. the past few days had been magical. You had started talking to him, and not just stilted monosyllabic answers, hour long conversations. You even went with him to the farmers market to get groceries. He had never thought that walking through an overcrowded marketplace in sweltering heat would make him this giddy, but here he was. You weren’t in a place to rekindle what you had in the past as of now, but a guy could dream.

he stopped the car on the way home to get you some mangoes. You had already finished the ones Steve bought for you. Maybe today he could make a smoothie for you. maybe pick out an action movie and make an evening out of it. Bucky wasn’t a fan of those, preferring to stick to rom coms in general. But you seemed to love that mindless violence, and if it was for you, Bucky would watch hours of it.

He made a beeline to your room to tell you about his idea, just as you were walking out of the door. Unmindful of where you were going, you slammed into his chest. Bucky remained unmoved, slightly amused by how flustered you were. I mean it wasn’t every day one got to the calm, composed Y/N Rogers out of sorts.

Your eyes widened when you saw him, taken by surprise obviously. But it wasn’t like Bucky could ask why. the speech function of his brain was again unresponsive as he took you in.

To him, you were always a goddess, sweatpants or pantsuits.

But today you were dressed to kill. There wasn’t anything remotely scandalous about your pale white dress, it was in itself quite cute, with those small flowers embroidered on the delicate net. The neckline, the length was all normal, modest. Nope, the dress was not the extraordinary part.

It was the way you left your hair open, cascading down your back and shoulders. It was the way your skin had that luminous sparkle that he hadn’t seen in oh so long. It was the way your subtle yet sweet perfume reached out to him, the same you used to wear when you were his girl. He was so glad when he discovered you hadn’t changed it. He had always associated that smell with you.

“hey” you muttered, zeroing in on the fact that he wanted to talk to you.

“Um yeah hi. You’re going somewhere” he cursed himself for being so inarticulate, but for the moment his brain was dead.

“Oh, yeah. I’m meeting up with my friend from college. At that bar, near Sam’s place.”

“Tha…that’s great. You should go out. You work too much”

You could only nod.

He stepped aside to give to you space to leave, only to look at your backside. He didn’t want to come across as lecherous, but God that dress did things for your ass.

He followed you into the living room where Natasha and Steve were snuggled on the couch. Every time he saw them like that, his heart panged. Because it reminded him of all that he was missing. But he was hopeful, now more than ever, that this dream was now within his reach.

“All ready for your date?” Natasha asked.

It was a pail of cold water on the warmth that had seeped into Bucky’s chest.

Reader’s POV

“A Date?!” Bucky asked, not caring how much belligerent he sounded.

You were afraid of this happening, of Bucky finding out that you were going out on a date.

Why? You had no clue. Its not like you’re together, or broken up recently. You’ve been apart for longer that you were together, plenty of time for any remnant emotion to dissipate. It was logical,

But that’s the thing about Bucky. Nothing was governed by rationality when it came to him.

“You said you were having drinks with a friend?” he questioned again. You looked around the room to find a very amused looking Natasha and a very confused Steve.

“Well, technically Pietro is a friend, and we are meeting over drinks….”

“Pietro? Pietro Maximoff?!! Wanda’s brother.?!!” Bucky thundered.

“Bucky you need to chill the fuck out. so, she’s going on a date, what does it matter to you? Pietro is Wanda’s brother, I assure you Y/N is not related to him in any way for you to be reacting like that” Nat admonished him, though her words lacked their usual bite.

All this while Bucky kept looking at you with so much heat you could feel blisters on your skin. You hated that his indignation was affecting you so much.

Suddenly he turned away from you, your body feeling physically cold at the lack of his glare.

“Steve, you cannot possibly be cool with this man. That guy is known all over as a Casanova. There’s no way you’re letting Y/N go out with him?!”

You bristled at the implication of needing Steve’s permission to date, but before you could give this dumbass a piece of your mind, Steve unexpectedly came to your rescue.

“Bucky, Its like you said, Y/N is all grown up now, capable of making her own decisions. I’m not stopping her from going out and having fun, especially after she’s worked her ass off for so long. Plus, Pietro is staying in New York for a while, and if things work out, then it’ll just be another reason for her to stay back.” Steve just shrugged casually, still uncomprehending why his buddy is getting so protective over his younger sister.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you had run out of shits to give.

“Now if completely unnecessary and absolutely moronic conversation is over, I have reservations to keep.” With that, you slammed the door to the penthouse close.

It was your first date in years, and you’ll be damned if you let James Buchanan Barnes destroy it.

Bucky POV

“Pour me another” he tapped on his glass, signalling Sam to pass the bottle of whiskey over to him.

“I am not. Not before you tell me why you barged in my house and went straight to my liquor cabinet. You said you’ll tell me after you finished your drink, and you have. So, tell me Barnes!”

“I couldn’t bear staying at my place”

“Why the hell not? Did Y/N finally kick your ass out for being a pathetic fool?”

“she’s on a date.”

“Wait, what? A date?! I thought everything was going on track”

“YES SAMUEL! I THOUGHT SO TOO.BUT SHE IS ON A FUCKING DATE! SHE CAME BACK INTO MY LIFE; I STARTED DREAMING OF US GETTING BACK TOGETHER, ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT PIETRO MOTHERFUCKING MAXIMOFF IS TAKING THE ONLY WOMAN MY HEART HAS AND WILL EVER BEAT FOR ON A FUCKING DATE!!” Bucky exploded, channelling all the anguish trapped inside in his cathartic speech. And yet he didn’t feel lighter, only dejected.

Sam, however, was unfazed by this outburst.

“Pietro Maximoff? Well shit. He’s one beautiful bastard. Also, very popular with the ladies I hear…”

“Sam..” Bucky growled his name in a warning.

“What are you gonna do about it James? you know apart from sitting here and crying like a bitch.”

“What can I do? stop her? How even? “he sighed, his heart constricting at the thought of letting you go, again. “Just when I felt like I could hold onto her, she slipping away”

“THIS is what I don’t understand!” Sam threw his hands in the air in frustration. “you are the same person who built the most successful band in the world out of nobodies through sheer hard work. Even when you had that goddamn accident, you didn’t stop. Never once did you let anything deter you from getting what you wanted. And yet, right now when you need that badass attitude the most, you’re quitting like a fucking loser.”

“You want your girl Barnes? Its time to go get her.”

Taglist: @kandis-mom @queerqueenlynn @mayusenpai666 @nothingbettertosay81 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @loustan90 @zannemes @cjand10 @stuffyownswrld

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