Exhaustion was seeping from every pore on your body as you drug your feet through the quiet and pristine lobby, a series of black zipped and enclosed bags held in your left hand and some pink and white bags in the other. Balanced in your right hand along with the pink and white bags was your cellphone which had been buzzing from the moment you stepped out of the car and into Stark Tower.
The itching under your skin to check on the phone call was only outdone and outweighed by Natasha Romanoff’s quick strides as she moved throughout the lobby toward the elevator. You struggled to keep up with her while lugging your haul and the dresses in the closed bags that she made you buy with the bonus she gave you.
You took as large of strides as you could, and when you stepped into the elevator you huffed and leaned against the cool metal wall, hooking the hangers built into the closed dress bags on the metal railing. Without the bags in your hand, you were able to grip your phone with both hands and finally answer the buzzing that had caused the itching anxiousness.
As you leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator and answered emails and arranged the next week’s schedule, a rough outline anyway. You were quickly made aware of the elevator doors opening, by the sound of the doors parting like the Red Sea. The approach of two more people onto the elevator had not been enough to pull your attention away from your phone and your task of fixing and skeleton scheduling Natasha’s ‘life’ but the greeting she had tossed out was enough to steal your attention and cast it on the two men who were as wide as they were tall and built like solid mountains.
“Hello boys,” the message of Natasha’s greeting was friendly and neutral yet there was something about the tone of voice that made it seem like a jest at their behalf, “are you excited for Stark’s charity auction? A few days away. Do you have your eyes on anyone?”
You busied yourself with your phone, tapping away at whatever mindless game you could find, trying to make yourself appear ignorant to the conversation they were having. Despite your ears burning and their blue and blue-green eyes, respectively, on you, you kept your head down and your feigned naivety about what they were speaking about.
“You’re not in the auction this year?” The rumble of their voice, Steve’s you figured, had stirred the conversation and kept it alive, while you were trying not to be seen.
You found yourself shifting your weight from foot to foot with anxiousness. It was a tick of sorts, being so self-conscious when you were around people like Natasha and Steve and Bucky. When you were around beautiful and fit people that were ethereal in their nature and the picture-perfect vision of health and fitness and you…weren’t.
Given the mean-spirited nickname of ‘thunder thighs’ in your youth had stuck with you, mentally at least. You always felt as if you were hyper-aware of your soft stomach snd your heavy breasts that went along with your plus-sized figure. Your ass was neither tight nor small, and that made it difficult to feel confident in yourself, let alone your physicality’s when you had to meet with others under the guise of being Natasha Romanoff’s PA.
“Not me,” Natasha smirked, “but Y/N is.”
Though it didn’t necessarily show, you felt your cheeks burning from the near-constant and penetrating gaze that was cast on you. Your cheeks burned beneath your skin while the familiar souring of your stomach settled in as you prepared yourself mentally and emotionally for some sharp and snide comments about what a waste that would be.
You were preparing yourself for the jabs and the jests made at your expense. The little jokes and statements made that would bring laughter to space while you wallowed in your inability to ‘take a joke’ or the blatant offence you felt.
“Not entirely willingly…” You mumbled the lie, hoping that it would make you feel better about whatever they would say next.
“Is that what the bags are for?” Bucky asked, his blue-eyed gaze landing on the bags hanging on the metal pole attached to the wall of the elevator.
You turned your attention back to your phone, waiting for that eventual shoe to drop. You didn’t want them to see your weakness, though you were sure enough that they could sense it. You were sure they could sense your knees knocking and your stomach churning with anticipation of the inevitable.
“A few options for Y/N, ” Natasha had also cast her gaze upon your, though it was short-lived, “and a few surprises.”
Surprises being killed heels that made your legs good great and a pair of jeans that somehow seemed to flatter your body as it was without some hideous flower pattern on the ass cheeks to accentuate or some hideous cut that drew attention to yourself while simultaneously making you look as if you were by a jean covered blob.
Because that’s a lot of what fashion for plus size women was, a covering or a pattern or fabric that was meant to simply be on your body instead of embracing it.
“A dress for the auction, ” Natasha added.
“Since Natasha’s not allowed to be a part of it, ” you licked your bottom lip and prayed that the elevator would hurry its incontinence self up, “I was voluntold.”
“It’s for a good cause.”
“That’s why I said ultimately said yes.”
“A woman like yourself up on that stage, ” Steve cracked a half-smile, “I’m sure you’ll get bid up real high.”
“Who wouldn’t want to spend a weekend with a dame like you?” Bucky added, pointedly looking you up and down.
The doors finally opened to your floor and you couldn’t have gotten out fast enough. You had all but ripped the dress bags from the railing and threw them over your shoulder, with the other bags beating against your leg as you power-stalked away from the doors and the three perfect people in the metal box.
You didn’t stop your power stalking until you were at your room door and had the door halfway open. You had unceremoniously thrown the bags away from you, not caring where they landed or how.
You kicked your shoes off next and with the same lack of haphazard care, you strode throughout your small apartment to your room, throwing the door open.
You threw yourself onto the bed and sighed, feeling a day’s worth of anxiety slowly seeping from your shoulders. Shopping with Natasha was pleasant enough if you ignored every single scrutinizing look. If you could ignore every comment under shop attendants breaths or the way their eyes followed you with thinly-veiled disgust at how a person like Natasha Romanoff could be seen with a person like you.
A person like you – a woman who was plus sized and not worth the attention of any man who had eyes.
A woman like you who was the brunt of every joke and who could only land a man if that man lost a bet.
The day of shopping produced high-end and beautiful clothes that made you feel like a million bucks, but all that confidence cracked when you saw the look in the shop attendant's eyes.
It was the silent judgement and looks of odium and the snide remarks about how one could let themselves feel good in that body.
And now, because you felt as though you were a pushover, you were going to be on stage in front of rich men and women who were among the most beautiful and elite.
“It won’t be bad, ” you sighed and rubbed your hands down your face, “it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun.”
You could choose to wallow in your displeasure, or you could choose to keep your head high.
“Fuck it,” you mumbled, “it’s for charity. Natasha promised it would be fine.”
You sat up quickly, enough to make yourself dizzy. You shift yourself to the end of the bed and pressed your palms flush against the bed. You placed your feet on the floor before standing and moving with purpose toward the dresses that you had haphazardly thrown.
“Im going to look good.” You snatched one of the bags from the floor and draped it on your couch. You reached out and pulled the zipper down, revealing the dress within that was a favourite of Nat’s.
“I may hate the whole evening but damn, ” you looked at the dress with fondness remembering how it looked on you, “I’ll look good.”
Days spent in the state of the art lab preparing for the first attempts at the experimental synthesis of medication and DNA modifications that would ignite those receptors that drew omega’s to alpha’s and vice versa. It was the first day of the experiment and the entire lab was buzzing with excitement and hopefulness that this would further limit the repercussions of the Snap and Blip.
With the volunteers already checked into the lab, you were in the midst of preparing for your part in the experiment, when the approach of Dr. Banner had stopped you in your tracks.
On his approach, your stomach tightened as you recognized the face of bad news. You didn’t know what he was going to tell you or what would become of the rest of your day, but you knew that something was going to change.
You could feel it in your bones, you could see it clearly in his eyes and the way he carried himself that there was something unspoken that was bothering him.
You moved away from the core of the lab toward the far left side that was much quieter and would allow for a hushed conversation. When you came to stand in front of him, you shoved your hands into your lab coat pockets, fiddling with the pen to keep your nerves at a low.
“Dr. Banner, what’s the bad news?” You asked even if you didn’t want to. If you could’ve remained ignorant, you would have. However whether you wanted to know or not, Dr. Banner would tell you.
“Y/N,” he crossed his arms over his chest, hesitating to speak, “I know that you’ve spent countless hours preparing for the launch of this procedure-“
“-but…?” You felt the preemptive sting of tears.
“You can’t be a part of the experiment itself. The conditions to be part of the actual testing of the procedure are very clear-“
“What did I do wrong?” Tears blurred your vision, the airy gasps that left your mouth were the tip of the emotional iceberg.
“Nothing, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. You’re brilliant and talented, however the conditions do not allow pregnant women to partake in the procedure.”
“Pregnant?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m not pregnant…”
“I had to do a final test on the blood we’d taken and on every sample you’d given us to confirm your readiness. When I test your sampled and your blood, I got the confirmations.”
To prove the point he was trying to make, Dr. Banner handed you the tablet in his hands with all the data already loaded snd ready for you to see. On the tablet screen was the clear image of your hormone levels that has shifted as well as the sharp spike in estrogen and progesterone that proved not only were you pregnant, but the levels in which they’d increased had opened the possibility up to their being more than one baby.
“There’s no symptoms.”
“You know as well as I do the symptoms of pregnancy’s may not show up within the first month. Based on the hormone levels, I’d say you’re just under a month.” Dr. Banner placed his hand on your shoulder snd squeezed.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. But in my good conscience I can’t allow you to be one of the constant’s in the experiment. You can still run the trial and head it up if you would wish, however being part of it is no longer an option.”
“Pregnant.” You stared at the tablet while mentally being a mile away.
Kids. You’d always wanted kids, but later on in your life. You were only 22 and you’d just started your career.
You heard Dr. Banner speak yet you couldn’t take your attention off the numbers on the screen. You couldn’t take your eyes off the hormone spikes and the clear data that damned you from your own trial.
“You should tell Steve and Bucky-“
“Excuse me.” You handed the tablet back to him, more like shoved it into his arms, and pushed past him.
“Y/N, talk to Steve and Bucky. Tell them before you-“
“I need air. I need-“ you slipped your lab coat off and tossed it toward a desk chair. Before it could even land on the chair, you were headed toward the door of the lab. You placed your hand against the biometric lock and wait the half second as it scanned your DNA before it let you out. You slipped through the door and moved in a haze, completing everything action that would take you from the lab, to the elevator and then to the lobby of Stark Tower. You moved by autonomy, while your head was reeling and you were consumed by a constant barrage of questions aimed at yourself and your situation.
“Y/N!” Your name was called but you kept moving. “Y/N, stop!”
You kept moving until you collided with a body made of muscle snd strength. After colliding with the body, you craned your neck and studied the man hovering over you, relief and insignificant anguish at the pair of blue eyes watching you.
His brown hair, thick and luscious, was cut short. It was a new look for him after having his longer hair for a while. He was clean shaven too, it looked as fresh as his haircut. His blue eyes were caught between concern and caution, his hands reaching out to grab your arms.
He was your alpha, you should find comfort in his touch and yet…
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was holding your arms in gentle grasps. “You didn’t hear me calling your name. What’s wrong?”
Pregnant. You were pregnant.
“I need air. I need to get out of here. I need…” Your eyes dart around the lobby of Stark tower, your stomach churning the burning acid inside.
“You’re okay.” Bucky cupped your cheeks. “You’re going to be okay just-“
“No!” You slapped his hands away. “No im not going to be okay! I’m not okay! I need air!”
“You’re having a panic attack,” he reached for you again, “let me help you.”
You stepped back, your eyes widening as the sting of bile rose in your throat. The word PREGNANT has been at the forefront of your mind, repeating on a record.
You wanted kids, but not yet. You’d worked so hard to get where you are now.
You were going to be sick. You couldn’t breathe and you were going to be sick. You felt the bile rise in your throat, the stinging acid that burned as it crawled, the fresh wave of bushes tears making it hard to see as you nearly collapsed from the shock of what had just conspired.
“Are you okay?” Bucky was on you in an instant, an arm wrapped around your waist to steady you. “You’re flush.”
“I need air…” You mumbled under your breath, settling into a panic attack that was sever enough to induce nausea.
“Let me help you upstairs, doll.” Bucky started to help you stand and while his touch was comfortable, it was almost smothering.
His presence as an alpha gave you comfort you knew you needed yet it had also made you feel as if your breathing was even more restricted than it had been. It made you feel as though you were truly gasping for air.
“No!” You pushed him off of you with unknown strength. “No! I need air! I need to be alone!”
You rebuffed him and ran with all you had in you to the exit. You burst through the doors of Stark tower and pressed on even further. You ran until your lungs were burning and your heart was beating like a war drum in your chest and when you finally stopped, you sunk.
You sunk to your knees and wrapped your arms around yourself as you cried, as you screamed your frustrations.
You wanted to be a mother and you wanted your career.
You wanted a baby and you wanted your own mother back.
You wanted a family with Steve and Bucky, and you wanted to see the fruits of your years of hard work.
You cried until you couldn’t anymore. You cried until your voice was horse and your eyes were puffy.
You don’t know how long you were out there, wherever you were. You didn’t know how long you’d spent curled into yourself, crying until your voice was weak. You’d spent your energy running from your anxieties, running from the news that flipped your world upside down.
“It’s okay.” Steve’s voice hit your ears, the suffocating comfort was replaced with gentility. “You’re okay, doll.”
He came to your side and held you, he came to your side and embraced you as you broke down in his arms. You clung to him with as much might as you could gather, silently accepting the shift in comfort as he pulled you into his lap in whatever alley or on whatever street you’d found yourself on.
“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.” Steve mumbled into your hair, he pressed his lips against the side of your forehead and soothes you with the gentle rocking of his body. “Let me take you home. Please.”
“Take me home.” You went lax in his arms, knowing that you had a lot more processing to go through but it would be better to do it in the comfort of their presence, with them being part of the conversation.
So, I’m not gonna be able to post the next chapter of Love & Other Desires tomorrow coz I have a test that I’ve barely prepared for and am stressed about. I will be posting it in the first half of next week tho and hopefully I can get back on track.
You can find my main Masterlist here and my Masterlist for Love & Other Desires here.
See ya lovelies!!
If you wanna be tagged in any of my works, lemme know here.
Summary: In which Natasha pushes you to be auctioned off for a weekend for charity, and the opportunity arises for two super soldier’s to have reader at their mercy for a full weekend
The Avengers were akin to celebrities and that created a need for personal assistants to help support and create ease in their lives while they fought off the threats that faced the world.
As a person assistant, your job revolved the most basic errands such as getting fresh coffee or picking up their dry cleaning, making their day to day as seamless as possible, to making sure all preparations were made for any and all trips that they would have to go on to save the world.
Being a personal assistant wasn’t a glamorous job, and the hours proved to be long and draining, but the pay was incredible. Not only was the pay incredible but the benefits of being a PA had vastly outweighed the negatives. Yes, you worked long hours and had a hectic schedule, but when your assigned avenger was on a mission overseas or on vacation, your free time grew exponentially.
As long as the basics were handled, you had quite a lot of time on your hands when they were in another country.
Your assigned avenger was Natasha Romanoff, and given her skill as an assassin and spy, your free time was on the higher end than someone who stuck closer to home like Peter Parker or Bruce Banner or even Tony Stark.
The hours that those PA’s worked we’re almost double your own, but that could also boil down to the privacy Natasha Romanoff required. Peter Parker, while he was in his senior year, had a PA who was nearly run on her feet after trying to keep up with Peter and his forgetfulness.
Bruce Banner’s PA was always tired, always had dark bags under her eyes after being kept late in the labs while Banner worked.
Tony Stark used his PA almost too much, which has caused his PA to put more miles on her car in one year while working for Tony than the 2 years prior.
One disadvantage of being Natasha Romanoff’s PA was the incessant looks you’d received when you were in her presence. Natasha Romanoff was a beautiful woman, she was completely breathtaking and she knew it. She knew she was a deadly woman with her fists and her physical appearance and that drew questions whenever you were introduced as her PA.
If Natasha Romanoff was such a bombshell, then why did she choose a PA who was not? Why did Natasha Romanoff have a PA who was ‘pretty for a big girl’, who’s thighs had been rubbing together since you were 13. Why would Natasha Romanoff have a PA who looked as if she had swallowed two of her?
You were a woman who was plus-sized, and spent the greater amount of your time working for a woman who was the epitome of men’s fantasies. It was enough of a contrast to draw comments under breaths or snide looks. It was almost a constant reminder that no matter what, you wouldn’t fit well into their world aside from working for them.
Despite the comments and the snide looks, the depreciating hand signals that would be fired toward you for a ‘few good laughs’ Natasha treat you no different than she treat anyone of her team mates.
Natasha was a woman who had put in the effort to make you feel as comfortable as possible while working for her, and in your defence, had told the commentators, usually men, how quickly she could dismember them without leaving evidence behind.
You may have been verbally bullied about your size as a plus sized woman, but Natasha would never treat you with so much disrespect. Natasha had treat you as if you were her little sister rather than her PA, and that meant talking you up from the low places you would sometimes notch yourself in.
Natasha was an amazing woman and you admired her.
Even if she had pushed you out of your comfort zone toward new unchartered waters.
“You’re attending the charity auction.” She told you, handing you an invitation. “I need you there.”
She was constantly trying to push you toward a place where you could see your own value.
“Charity auction for the sick kids foundation?” You read the invitation twice.
“They’re auctioning off weekends spent shadowing avengers or weekend dates with volunteers for the auction.” Natasha explained while adjusting and fixing her eyeliner.
“So you need me to go and make sure everything is sorted out?” You behind her, tapping on the tablet in your hands.
“Not exactly, kukla.” Natasha locked eyes with you in the mirror. “I can’t volunteer this year on account of what happened last year on the ‘date’, but you can.”
The tablet in your hands has nearly fallen to the floor. It had nearly slipped from your grips to the soft carpet below your feet as the registration of what she said had gave way to shock.
“What?” You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m sorry..:what did you just say?”
Natasha smirked in the mirror, adjusting her stance after she reached for a metal container of mascara. She hadn’t given you an explanation of elaborated on what she had said right off the bat. She had coat her eyelashes with mascara until she was satisfied, then she pressed her lips together.
“I said you can. I put you down on the docket to be auctioned for a weekend of fun. It’ll do you some good.” While Natasha had been unbothered by her decision to offer you up as a volunteer for the auction, you were not.
“Why would you do that?” You hissed. “No one will bid!”
“Are you sure?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. “I think there are more men attracted to you than you think.”
Your snort and derision was a precursor to your eyes rolling. You had mirrored her stance by crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your hip out. You were having two different reactions that were each battling for control, first was your mental reaction that was akin to a nuclear meltdown in your head and the other was your emotionally pressed yet coolness snippiness that had taken over.
“I’d like to believe that, but there’s a better chance of seeing pigs fly.” Your comment had rolled off Natasha like water off a duck’s back, she didn’t even acknowledge your comment or your dig at yourself.
“As a friend,” Natasha asked with a tone of voice that was more telling, “I am going to put you on the volunteer list. As a friend, I am doing this because there are men out there who are attracted to you and have even tried flirting with you-“
“I’ve been flirt with?” Your irritation turned to general confusion.
“-and they feel like this is the best way to get your attention. So will you please-“ she didn’t even need to twist your arm before you caved.
“-it’s for a good cause.” There was a bubbling in your belly as butterflies sprung to life, “what the hell. I’m in.”
“Good.” Natasha stride toward you and pinched your cheeks, “now let’s get you a dress that’s show-stopping.”
Your world bursting into colours vibrant and breathtaking had ironically cast a shadow over your personal life. The shift from vision of black and white to coloured freedom, had created a reactive shift in your relationship with Peter that you hadn’t been prepared for.
“Colours,” Peter mumbled into his cup of coffee, “what is it like?”
The tension between you two was still at a minimum, yet the fact that you’d found your soulmates had created this light fog that just sat over your heads, hovering low enough to be noticeable yet high enough not to be touched.
“I know you can see colours. I knew the moment it happened.” He mumbled again, staring at the crack in the table you’d bought together.
“It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” You moved around the table to his side, wrapping your arm around his back while your other hand rest on his left shoulder. “I love you, Peter.”
Your contact with his body had physically drew the tension from him, although that is where the ease stopped. Despite his shoulders and body being ridden of tension in his shoulders and his chest, his emotional apprehension was on the rise. It was hard to miss, almost impossible not to feel the chill exuding from Peter as the pair of you tried to grapple with the shaken pillars of your relationship.
How did you move past this? How did you return to a place before you saw colours and before you found out that two of the avengers were your soulmates? Were your heads in the clouds and your hearts in naivety?
Could there even be a place to come back to? Could the relationship pan out even with the recent event of meeting your soulmates hanging above your head?
“I love you too.” He turned his head and spoke into your hand on his shoulder. He pressed his lips into your palm after you’d opened your hand, giving you the smallest glimmer of affection that was more than enough for the moment. “We’ll make this work.”
The sentiment of the message was sweet and hopeful, yet it felt empty. It felt as if you were going to just be biding time until inevitable set in and broke you apart.
“Of course we will.” Your tight lipped smile and forced positivity had only added to the overcast sense of grim outcomes. “Did you want to go to Stark Tower together?”
The question felt like a buffer, a monotonous event that would bring anymore awkwardness to the already complicated situation. It was an offer to share a ride with the boy you’d loved for the past year, to be in each others presence while not addressing the elephant in the apartment.
“You start today?” Peter frowned, his eyebrows furrowed.
“First day working as medical staff at Stark Tower.” You let go of him and shuffled into the kitchen, dragging your feet toward the fridge. You grabbed the white handle and pulled, bending over to gaze at the contents inside before you decided on a ripe apple and a bottle of fiji water Peter brought home the day before.
After selecting your items and balancing them in your arms, your turned around to talk to Peter only to find the place where he once was, empty now.
“You see in colour,” Peter called from the living room, beckoning you with his voice.
As you crossed the distance, a smile broke on your face when you saw Peter standing in the living room in his full Spider-Man get up. He was posing for you with the familiar smile you loved most, on his face.
“Tell me what colour my suit is.” He placed his hands on his hips, watching you with playful flirtation.
“I can do that,” you walked toward him with renewed pep in your step. You stood in front of him and slid your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, your eyes wandering the pattern of his suit and the colours that had been brought together to form the impressive technological apparel that had saved Peter’s life more than once.
“The shoulders are red with black details that make the suit itself look like spiders webs.” You touched and traced the black lines as you spoke, your attention on the way he filled out the spider suit and the feel of his tight muscles been the your hands.
“There are two blue bands that break up the red on your arms,” you touched the blue against the red, proving your point.
“There’s more blue?” Peter asked, his hands moving to your hips where he lightly squeezed.
“Yes,” you inhaled sharply, your eyes moving down his body toward his lower half, “from your waist to the middle of your calves are blue. From the middle of your calves to your feet are red with black detailed lines like the upper half.”
“We’ll make it work,” Peter brushed his thumb across your chin to lift your head, “it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
“Are we going to talk about it?” Nat smirked while she was leaning against the bar side of the communal area the Avengers shared. Since the party, and their full ascent into fully coloured vision, Natasha has been on them relentlessly to try and get a peek into their brains.
“The kid has been dating the girl for a whole year,” Clint spoke from the lounger in the centre of the room, looking back at the two with a similar smirk to Natasha’s.
“And she’s a baby,” Natasha’s grin widened, “really robbing the cradle aren’t you boys?”
“She’s 20 Nat, almost 21.” Bucky spoke in defence of their situation.
“She’s not legal enough to drink and she’s barely legal enough to vote.” Natasha looked Steve up and down, with a raised eyebrow.
“She’s working here.” Bruce had quipped, looking at the tablet in his hands before he looked up. “She’s working on the medical floor as a registered nurse. Given your reputation, I think you’ll be seeing a lot of her.”
Bruce was speaking of Steve and Bucky’s penchant for getting into trouble where they was none, though the jab could’ve been aimed further toward Steve since the man couldn’t run away from a fight.
“We’re not pursuing anything.” Steve stood his ground and cut the silent accusations short. “The kid is a relationship with her-“
“It won’t last long.” Clint cut Steve off, pushing himself to sit up further. “We all know how the soulmate connection is. Even if you’re on the other side of the world, you’ll be drawn together eventually. No matter how hard you try to fight it.”
“She’s in a relationship, Barton.” Steve unscrewed the cap on a bottle of water and lift it to his lips. “We’re not going to interfere-“
“Its inevitable. Whether you want to interfere or not, there is a connection that won’t be ignored. They can try to push it off all they want, eventually one of them will break.”
Steve hummed after he swallowed, his eyebrows knit together. He slipped into a space of deep though, a place in his head that pulled his thoughts toward Peggy.
Steve and Bucky were able to see half colour when they recognized each other as soulmates. When Steve met Peggy, he had wished that his vision could’ve shifted to full colour. He wished that he could’ve seen the bright flashes of pigment that was described so heavily by those who had already met their soulmates and in book written exclusively on the topic.
When he didn’t see colour, and neither did Peggy, there was a part of Steve that was disappointed. There was a part of him that was almost distraught over not being able to have this woman who was breathtaking and confident, so sure of herself, as his soulmate.
He wanted Peggy.
Bucky wanted him. He had only ever spoke of Steve when he was alive in the 40’s, there was no connection to Peggy other than one of friendship.
“It’s inevitable,” Steve mumbled under his breath, chewing on the words.
Inevitable. Steve and Peggy were never meant for each other.
If fate would inevitably bring two soulmates together, than fate could inevitably separate two people who were never meant for each other.
“Eventually the relationship will fail as the connection between the three of you grows.” Bruce glanced from Steve to Bucky. “And there will be no turning back.”
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summary: part 5 of college/fuckboy!bucky
part one | part two | part three | part four
word count: 1855
requests are open
Right after Bucky left you, standing in your doorway. You closed the door, sitting down on the floor right next to it. He had driven over in the rain to tell you he had feelings for you and then just left. Just fucking pulled off in his car. Telling you to think it over and not rush into it. What in the actual hell was that logic? Bucky Barnes liked you and you’re just supposed to sit on it and think about it. You scrambled over to your phone, clicking on your roommates’ contact, hearing the phone ring. Your foot tapped anxiously until you heard her pick up. Before she could get a word in, you said:
“Bucky just fucking showed up to the house and told me he fucking liked me and then drove away before I could say anything.” Somehow you got it all out in one breath. Hearing noises shift on the other side, you assumed she was packing up to head over to you.
“I’ll be there in five,” she stated, hanging up. The whole five minutes, you stayed sitting in your bed, staring at a wall. When she walked in, she rolled her eyes at you.
“I think this might be a little dramatic,” she laughed, coming to sit next to you.
“I’m going to kill him,” you mumbled, continuing to stare at a tiny spec of dirt on your wall. “He did this so now the ball is in my court. What the fuck do I do? Call him Show up on his door? Like what the fuck do I do with this? He’s supposed to like pull me into a kiss or something and instead, he WALKED AWAY!” you screamed out the last words, turning to look at her.
“He walked away,” she repeated.
“What the fuck does that mean?” you asked, exasperated. Your hands were flying around in anger.
“Maybe he wanted to give you some time to think about it to make sure you wanted to pursue it, so like you didn’t get caught up in the moment,” she shrugged, looking over at you. “But he likes you. I think you’re forgetting the most important part.” Her hand found your back and rubbed it soothingly.
“I’m going over there right n-” you began, jumping out of your bed.
“y/n!” your roommate exclaimed, catching your attention. Your mind was completely racing and it took everything in you to pause it to pay full attention to her. “Take a god damn breath. Sleep on it. Take the day to think about it, then go yell at him tomorrow. You’re acting on pure emotion right now, babe. You may ruin this opportunity before it’s even started.”
“I was not going to yell at him,” you grumbled, as she gave you a knowing look.
“Get your ass in bed, we will watch movies and you can talk and rant about him all night, but you will not leave this house,” she stated sternly near the end. Sighing, you crawled back into bed, curling under the sheets. The whole first couple movies, your mind just was swimming with thoughts of Bucky, over and over again. By the second round, they let up slightly, but just barely. There was no way to fully stop the thoughts of him. It was like he infected you after he admitted his feelings. Every part of you thought of him and either wanted to slam your lips against his or smack him in the face for how he admitted it. Around ten at night, your phone vibrated, once. A text from Bucky took over your screen. “Meet me at this location tomorrow. 10 A.M.” A location was down below the text. No flirty remark or emoji or anything. The text gave you nothing to work with. Your roommate sat beside you the whole night, talking when you needed her and just keeping you company besides that. At god only knows how late, sleep finally overtook your racing mind, giving you some sort of rest before meeting with Bucky in the morning.
When you woke up, you jumped out of bed and sprinted to the shower. You had never gotten ready so fast before in your life. The hard part was picking an outfit. You changed at least ten times before finally settling on an outfit and throwing it on. You had given yourself just enough time to get ready so you would not have to spend another minute thinking about all this before the time you were supposed to meet him. Driving to the location, your hands were shaking and your heart pounded in your chest. You pulled up to a little pathway and parked your car. When you got out, you saw Bucky’s truck already in a parking spot, but he was not in it. A little trail led to a bright green forest area. It was beautiful in the morning light. Small roses were scattered along the trail with a note attached to the fence. In what you assumed to be Bucky’s handwriting wrote ‘Follow the roses, y/n.’ Listening to the note, you followed the pathway with roses until you made it to a little clearing, Bucky stood there, taking in the trees that shot their way far up into the sky. You watched him for a moment, taking in the way he squinted up at the bright blue sky, his stubble littering his jaw.
“You’re a fucking asshat,” you spoke up, gaining his attention. His eyes set on you while he gave a little smirk. “Came to my god damn house to admit you heartless self likes me and then just fucking walks away!” you exclaimed, taking another step to him.
“I had to give you time to think,” he smiled, loving how flustered and irritated him leaving you in that moment left you.
“Time to think about what? All the reasons I shouldn't have showed up today?” you remarked, scowling at him.
“But you did show up,” he grinned, walking towards you.
“Yeah, well I had half a mind not to after that stupid ass stunt you pulled,” you glared, watching his strides stop as he stood in front of you.
“Do you ever stop running that pretty little mouth?” he teased, hovering his body inches away from yours. No part of him touched you and you wanted to punch him for doing it. He knew it too. There was no way he couldn't tell how bad you now wanted this.
“No- especially when you’re being a fucking-” you started again, but were immediately cut off by Bucky’s lips slamming down on yours. Without hesitation, your hands wrapped around his neck, tugging his as close as humanely possible as he lifted you off the ground, his arms squeezing you against him from around your waist. He took your breath away in that moment, giving him all the time to dominate the kiss. You tried your hardest not to let him, but one bite to your lip and you were done. His metal hand slid up your back and laced his fingers in your hair as he groaned into your mouth. Your tongue ran along his as tugged on the hair at the nape of your neck. Both of your heaving as you tried your hardest to keep up with the way his lips moved against yours, him tugging your bottom lip between his teeth every once in awhile, your tongues swirling against each other. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your body felt hot as he pulled away from you. You could see the way his pink lips turned cherry red and were glossed over with a mix of both of your salivas.
“God,” he breathed, shaking his head down at you. “I could shut you up like this any time,” he groaned, letting his metal hand relax around your hair and rub the side of your cheek.
“I’m still going to run my mouth,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes.
“Fine by me, doll. I can handle it,” he grinned, leaving a small, sloppy kiss on your jaw. At the contact, you had to gulp down a moan.
“Don’t get any ideas, Barnes. I still am not sleeping with you, yet,” you breathed out, seeing the way his eyes sparkled.
“Yet,” he repeated, smirking at you.
“Bucky, seriously I’m not-” Again, his lips pressed against yours stopped you mid sentence.
“I heard you, doll,” he chuckled, pulling away from you.
“You can’t just kiss me to shut me up-” And yet again, he pulled your face to his, slamming his lips on yours to stop your talking. Each time he did it, you could not help but give in. His plump lips molded against yours so perfectly, it left your skin covered in goosebumps. “You still annoy me,” you grumbled out as he let you pull away, a wide, smug grin on his face.
“God, you’re cute when you’re annoyed,” he beamed down at you.
“Shut up, Barnes,” you blushed.
“Oh, don’t say that unless you’re going to take matters into your own hands, sweetheart,” he teased, his fingers gripping your waist tightly. His other hand held your jaw, his thumb tracing over your jaw and lips. Your lips parted to say something but you could not get the words out. “Oh right, I forgot, you’re only big and bad with your words, but when it comes to actions, I’ll beat you there, doll,” he smirked.
Shaking your head, you mumbled, “You’re a douche.”
“Well, I’m your douche now.. You’re stuck with me,” he hummed, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw.
“I guess I can get used to it,” you breathed out. He pulled away abruptly at your words.
“y/n, don't you worry, we can practice all the time until you get used to me,” he winked, making you groan.
“Bucky,” you groaned, scrunching up your nose.
“Oh, you didn’t think I would stop hitting on you like that just cause we’re together?” he laughed out, smirking.
“Oh, so we’re together?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Damn right we are,” he said, smiling down at you while his hand rubbed the small of your back. “You showing up was your way of agreeing.”
“Well, you’re the one who said to take it slow or whatever the hell,” you scowled, remembering his exit last night.
“Uh, no I said not to rush into anything, aka, being together,” he stated in a ‘duh’ sort of tone.
“Well, what if I didn’t want that?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Oh, that’s not an option. You want me,” he grinned, leaning down closer to you. “I won’t make you say it, but you do.”
“Shut up, Barnes,” you bit back the smile trying to come over you.
“Point proven,” he smirked, dipping his head down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. When he pulled away so quickly, you let out a small whine. “Oh you definitely want me,” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with smugness.
“Fuck you,” you grumbled.
“I thought you said we couldn’t yet?”
“Bucky!” you exclaimed.
“What I mean you said we had to wait so I’m just-” Your hands clenched his shirt as you tugged him down to you, pressing your lips against his. Bucky pulled away, smirking down at you. “That’s my girl.”
a/n: idk if you guys are content with it ending here or you want me to continue?? just let me know <3
Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. Four weeks had passed, come and went in a blink of an eye and in those four weeks, the house has been peacefully quiet.
For four weeks, Bucky had helped you move about, he cooked for you, he did all the cleaning and the laundry while you rest or stretched your legs by walking around the house on crutches.
He took care of the house and he took care of you. At the end of the four weeks, it was time to go back to town and get your cast looked at to see if you could get it removed. The trip to town would be a general checkup as well, to measure how you were doing and adjusting. The doctor would take a few questions and receive a few answers as to how you were making out with Bucky, and then the final point of the trip would be to set you up with a physical therapist.
Four weeks had passed, come and gone and you were none the wiser to the darkness lurking behind his blue eyes. You were none the wiser to the strings he had both pulled and played to get you to where you are now and he had intended on keeping it that way.
Your entire life had been wrapped up in the mystery of your disappearance, while Bucky had starkly cut contact with everyone at the Avengers Compound for the sole purpose of needing to heal from the aftermath of Steve giving up the shield and retiring and Bucky suffering another ‘mental attack’. No one was going to come looking for him, and Sam was far too busy being the new Captain America to worry about the ‘asshole hidden away in the mountains’.
It was your own private escape, and Bucky’s carefully crafted creation that gave him everything he was missing; a beautiful and devoted wife and mother to his future children.
He finally felt like he had gotten what he deserved, what was owed to him. After everything he had went through, after all the sacrifice and the torture, the mind controlling Hydra had cast upon him while hiding in SHIELD, Bucky finally had something for himself.
“Morning sweetheart,” Bucky greet you without having to look to see if you were behind him, he could hear the sound of your crutches as you moved and the clinking of your ring against the pole as you tried to adjust.
“You didn’t wake me?” You questioned, slowly yet surely coming to the very pen that Bucky was leaning against.
“I wanted you to sleep,” Bucky threw some food into the pen, stirring the goats from their lazy slumber, “you looked so peaceful.”
“In the four weeks since I’ve been home,” you winced when your ankle touched the ground, “I’ve never seen any of the animals you said we had.”
Bucky leaned into your side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he steadied you. His blue eyes studied your cast before his gaze fell to your eyes. “Are you okay? Is your ankle hurting?”
“It’s itchy.” You furrowed your brows and shivered lightly, speaking of the blue cast around your ankle with distaste and aggravation. “I can’t wait to get it off.”
Bucky’s attention fell below your eyes, his gaze raking down your body to your breasts that were hidden beneath one of his flannel jackets. Even with his jacket obscuring your breasts from his view, he knew that you wouldn’t have worn a bra beneath the layers. You had forgone the items while at home, as Bucky had told you that when it was just you and him, he wanted easy access to your breasts, pussy and ass as often as possible. You hadn’t argued, not after Bucky convinced you by eating you out on almost every flat surface possible.
“Baby,” Bucky’s voice deepened and his eyes flashed, “are you sure you should be out here?”
The topic of conversation was standard and innocent, but the look in his eyes and the desire to taste you on his tongue was making Bucky truly debate whether he wanted to reschedule all your appointments and just take you on every surface in the cabin.
However, if he hadn’t brought you to the doctor and got your cast off when it was supposed to be taken off, that would raise questions and concerns. None of which Bucky needed right now.
“I saw on the calendar that I have a follow up with the doctor,” you licked your bottom lip, hobbling toward the fence which kept the small goats inside their designated area, “that’s today?”
Bucky followed your gaze as it fell on the goats, the small coloured stubborn animals who will provide so much for you out here. The small animals that Bucky had sincerely felt pride in taking care of, and after this year, he’d planned on adding some cows in the back field should the situation allow.
“We’re almost entirely self sufficient out here.” He came to stand beside you, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, “we wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else.”
“Goats,” you pondered the word as if it was entirely new to you, “I think…did I used to like goats?”
Bucky flexed his fingers on your waist, his possessive hold on you clearly making shivers rush up and down your spine as you pressed into him. Seeing you in his clothes, knowing that his cum dripped out of your pussy and down your thighs after he stained you with his semen, was addictive. Just seeing all the ways that he had marked you, and your skin, to solidify you as his, was addictive.
It was like a drug that he didn’t know he needed, and now it was like second air to him.
“You loved all kinds of animals.” Bucky removed his hand from your waist to check the time on his wrist. “Shit. We have to leave in the next 10 minutes if we want to make your appointment on time.”
Bucky had taken you by surprise again by lifting you in his arms to carry you into the cabin. He held you as if you weighed nothing, as if he could have balanced you in one arm and still lift another full sized man.
As Bucky crossed the threshold, he was careful enough not to jostle you in anyway. He moved from the front entrance to the wooden staircase that led to the upper floor, each step taken with grace that you could never have mustered on your own.
“I’ll help you get dressed.” Bucky set you down on the bed and depart your side for the his-and-hers walk in closets. He opened your closet and reach in without looking, grabbing a plain white shirt and a pair of sweats.
“Take off your clothes.” Bucky called to you from the closet, giving you the order while grabbing the last few items that you needed.
When he came around and saw that you hadn’t moved, he clicked his tongue against his teeth and crouched in front of you. He placed his hand on your knee and gripped your kneecap tightly before he jerked your legs open to his eyesight.
“You’ve been such a good girl lately, darling.” His hand slithered up your thigh, the heat from his palm burning through your pyjama pants to your flesh. “Don’t make daddy have to spank you.”
He knew he caught you off guard when you inhaled sharply and your eyes widened considerably. Your lips had part just enough for Bucky to see your tongue brushing against the back of your bottom teeth, bobbing up and down as you swallowed.
“D-daddy?” You stuttered.
“You have a daddy kink, baby.” He squeezed your leg, his blue eyes darkening as he glanced you up and down. “You’re my baby girl and you call me daddy in bed. Sometimes.” Bucky reached up his left hand and brushed your hair behind your ear, trailing his cool fingers down your jaw to your lips. He used his metal thumb to pull down on your bottom lip until the flesh of your lip touched the flesh between your lips and chin.
“Do I have to ask again?” His eyes flashed with the promise of punishment should you have denied him.
“No-“ you squeaked when his hand shot up your thigh and squeezed your flesh through your pyjama pants.
“Correctly, doll.” His voice vibrated and rumbled.
“No daddy,” You swallowed thickly again, “you don’t have to ask again.”
You stand in front of the mirror, admiring how the black fabric of the dress hugged your frame in all the right ways. Smiling after one final glance, you exit the room to greet your friends. The tell tale of clicking heels on hardwood signal your entrance to the main room where a couple sit together on the couch, leaving a single person sitting in the chair off in the corner.
"Okay. Let's head out!" You call out with a smile, hips swaying as you step towards the door. The three friends collectively agree, making their way out the door as well. Steve and Natasha walk out side by side and Bucky follows a few paces behind, waiting for you to lock the door. "You look really nice, Y/N." Bucky speaks up with a shy smile that warms your chest. With a quickly muttered thank you, all four friends rush off to the club that was a few blocks away.
You stand at the bar with Natasha sipping on your drink. "So you planning on getting laid at the end of the night?" The red-headed woman asks with a smirk as she finishes off her glass. You couldn't help but shake your head at her bluntness, which only answers her question. "Well, in that case we have a couple options. You can go mingle, you can dance with me and have men flocking to you, or you can go over there to Bucky." She counts off the options on her manicured fingers. "And don't even try denying having a thing for Cyborg." Natasha's comment caused you to close you mouth before defensive remarks could escape. Without another word, she walked off to find Steve with a wink.
You down your drink with a huff and weave your way through the mass of sweaty bodies that were on the dance floor. You begin to let your body loosen and flow in time with the music that shook the walls. Hips moved in mesmerizing ways as your hands moved aimlessly around your body, letting yourself get into the moment and enjoy it. As the song changed you felt heat spread across the expanse of your back as someone moved close enough to feel. Their hands slide along your sides and come to rest at your hips, pulling you even closer as the shared movements speed up.
You stay dancing with the person as one song flows into the next. Your bodies pressed impossibly close to one another, hands feeling everywhere they can reach and grinding in time with the beat. Your arms wrap loosely around the man's neck, eyes never leaving each others.
Before you could lean close enough to make the next move, you were pulled away from mysterious dance partner and towards the bathrooms. Your head whips around as you ready yourself to engage with whoever pulled you away, but stop immediately once realising that it was Bucky.
He towers over your frame and stares down with dark eyes. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" He hissed out, just loud enough to barely make out. A wave of confusion washes over you while scanning his features for any clue as to what he was talking about. As if he understood the confusion he bites back, "Don't play dumb, Y/N. What are you doing grinding with some guy? Right in front of me?"
Your hands rest on hips with annoyance. "You answered your own question just now. I was dancing with someone and having a great time doing it. Was I supposed to ask for your permission first?" Sarcasm dripping with every word that slipped through the smirk on your painted lips. "Do you want me to be pressed up against you, James? You want me to be so close to you that I can feel your cock twitch in your jeans?" A wave of confidence flooded your system the longer you spoke, allowing you to shift closer to the tall man in front of you.
Bucky's whole demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes are dark and set, as if he were a predator and you were his prey. His tongue darts out to wet his pink lips before drawing his bottom lip between his white pearls. A moment or two passes as his eyes drift up and down your frame before settling on your lips and his chest rumbled with his comment. "With that little mouth on you, we aren't going back to the dance floor anytime soon. I might just have to take you home and show you just what I want to do to you."
You don’t know what fueled your actions more, the alcohol in your system or the heat between your legs, but you roughly pressed your lips to his. It took no time for him to reciprocate the kiss with the same intensity that quickly took your breath away. When the two of you pull away to fulfill your lungs aching need for air, you shared a knowing look that told the pair of you that you were on the same page. In agreement, you all but run to the exit and make the travel back to the apartment, but not before shooting Steve and Natasha a quick text.
As soon as the click of the door being locked sounded, your back was slammed against the cold wood. Bucky's eyes bore down on you, sending a shiver down your spine while setting a fire through your body. Lips crash together once more, no romance or soft intimacy involved, just lust fueling the rough and messy kiss. Bucky's lips drift down your jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses as he goes and pulling gasps from your swollen mouth. A cross between a yelp and a moan erupts from your mouth when his right hand grips tightly on a handful of hair and tugs it, exposing your neck to him fully.
Your hands glide across the material of his clothes as you attempt to bring them up to lace the fingers through his hair. But before you could touch a single strand of his brown locks, both wrists were held tightly above your head in Bucky's large vibranium hand. A quick nip at one earlobe draws attention back to Bucky himself, his breath hot against your ear as he speaks. "Tsk Tsk Tsk. You were a brat while we were out and brats get punished. Now strip and go to your bed."
As much as you wanted to tease and talk back, you found yourself obeying the order without so much as a second thought. The dress you were wearing falls onto the floor, matching bra and panties quickly following. You wait rather impatiently in the middle of your bed, palms resting against bent knees. Your heart thrums in your chest and ears, anticipation rushing through your veins, and insecurity creeps in. Everything is only heightened by the sight of Bucky striding over and stopping at the end of the bed with his belt hanging loosely in his fists.
"Look at you being such a good girl for me. Now come here and get over my knee, it's time for your punishment." Bucky praised and ordered in a calm voice, settling himself. You crawl over to his lap and lower your body on his thick thighs, wiggling your hips and ass for good measure. A sharp smack to the left cheek rips a gasp into the air and halts your teasing momentarily. The stinging pain sends tingles straight to your core and makes you impossibly wetter. As if your body had a mind of its own, your ass presses back towards his hand with need.
His chuckle sounds through the room as his large hand comes down and strikes the opposite cheek. "I want you to count each one out loud, doll. If you are silent or lose count, we start over. Understood?" You bite your lip with an enthusiastic nod and answer a yes. "I say that you deserve ten. What do you think, kitten? Do you deserve ten slaps to your ass?" Bucky asks as his hand rests against the soft flesh. "I deserve whatever punishment you deem fit, daddy."
Ten swats and one soaked pant leg later, Bucky caressed the red and tender flesh with soft praises. The cool metal of his left hand soothing the burning sting. "Look at the mess you made, kitten. You soaked my pants because of your punishment. I think you liked it quite a bit." He cooed, dragging his index and middle fingers up and down the drenched slit. You were a whimpering mess spread across his lap, mumbling incoherent nonsense, internally begging for him to thrust his digits in your throbbing heat or rub harsh circles on your sensitive clit.
As if by the grace of Odin himself, Bucky flicked the tip of his fingers against your clit a few times before thrusting two long fingers in your sopping cunt with ease. He sets a delicious pace, curling his fingers just right to hit the spot deep inside your walls that have you choking out screams. The hand that wasn't plunging in and out of you, gripped your hair tightly and yanked your head upwards allowing the sweet moans to flow freely into the air. Your climax was barreling through at a rapid speed, muscles tensing and the boiling coil in your abdomen threatening to snap in white-hot pleasure. But before you could voice that you were about to cum, all contact was pulled away and you were left panting and irritated.
As you were about to complain or take matters into your own hands, Bucky was stripped of his clothes and was stroking a hand up and down his considerable length. Your mouth watered and core clenched at the mere sight of the super soldier in all his naked glory. "You like what see, babygirl?" A simple hum falls from your lips as you wait for any further instruction.
"Lay back." James instructed, body pressing into yours. You share a quick, but passionate kiss as he aids in resting you on your back. His eyes search yours for a moment, silently waiting for consent to continue. An eager nod encouraged him to continue and lines his hard member up with your entrance. He hisses out as he drags the head of his cock from your entrance up to flick upwards against the swollen bundle of nerves, fully coating himself in your arousal.
You whimper and try to buck your hips up to get some sort of additional friction, all of the teasing driving you crazy with need. "Please fuck me, daddy. Please." You plead, batting your lashes at the older man. He slams his hips forward, filling you completly in one sharp thrust. Bucky stays still, allowing you both time to adjust to the new sensations and starts to slowly thrust once you lift my hips up to his. With every stroke, what little breath you had is knocked back out of your lungs and turns to strangled gasps. As Bucky's thrusts increase in speed and intensity, he hooks one of your legs up and around his waist, pounding deeper into you with the new angle. His tip brushing your g-spot with every thrust.
Bucky's name is the only clear word that comes out of your mouth with broken moans. The familiar burning in your abdomen returns and your muscles begin to tighten. "I'm gonna c-cum." You pant, warning the older man. His left hand wraps around the column of your throat with moderate pressure, making your eyes roll back with pleasure. "Hold it! Don't cum!" He growls. His thrusts getting sloppy as he chases his high, wanting to orgasm at the same time. His right hand creeps between your joined lower halves and thumbs your clit in fast circles, only fueling the fire of the building orgasm.
"Please. I can't hold it. Please let me cum!" You beg with hot tears starting to sting your eyes. The feeling becoming too much to handle, your body was begging for release. With one word, the coil finally snaps and your orgasm rushes through your body. The walls flutter and clamp down on Bucky's cock, soaking his member and down both of your thighs. He coaxes you through the tail end of your intense orgasm with small thrusts. He pulls out just before he reaches his peak with a groan, his hot seed coating your stomach and mound in thick spurts.
The two of you lay side by side for a few minutes, breathing heavily and trying to recover from the intensity of the moment. The bed shifts and you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You peel open your eyes in time to see Bucky kneeling between your shaking legs with a warm washcloth to clean you of the mixture of your spent arousal. You settle under the blankets and lift them open as an invitation for him to climb in beside you. "So I take it that you are the jealous type?" Both of you chuckle and you look up at Bucky who returns a smile. "I guess the cat is out of the bag on this one."