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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐧-𝐨𝐟𝐟)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Bucky Barnes x naive omega!Reader, also featuring: dark alpha!Steve Rogers

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, dubcon, dark Steve, poyt!Steve (yes, he is a warning), mentions of smutt, 18+ minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s your first day at college and Bucky, a popular alpha, asks for your number. (This is a spin-off of my fic Preying on You Tonight, exploring what would have happened if Bucky had gotten to omega before Steve. You do not need to read that fic to understand this one).

𝐀/𝐍: It’s finally here! As the writer, all I sincerely ask is for you to read it till the end. I put a lot of hard work into this and it’s been a long time coming. I really hope you give this fic a chance, and I hope you enjoy! This is 16.8k words.

It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay. You quietly chant under your breath as you make your way into the intimidatingly large lecture hall. World Politics. It’s a senior class, mostly males, majority alphas. But you’ve managed to get in – the only freshman who was accepted – and it makes your heart flutter with excitement. Maybe they’ll all be impressed, you think to yourself, clutching your bookbag tightly as you make your way inside.

Everyone’s already sat down or milling about in groups. You shoot a few smiles here and there, hoping someone might smile back – but everyone seems busy catching up with their own friends. You sigh – of course, you don’t expect to make friends right away. But you probably will soon.

There’s a pack of intimidating looking guys in the back of the room, they draw your attention because of how loud they’re being as they laugh and joke around. Football players, you think to yourself – they’re all wearing blue jerseys with the university emblem. And they’re all so big and broad. There’s a blond one who seems bigger and scarier than all of them, and there’s also a brunet – also big and intimidating but he looks slightly more laid back than the others.

You snap your head away as soon as he looks in your direction, feeling your cheeks heat up. You’re confident you’ll make friends, but it probably won’t be anyone from the resident campus jock group. Not wasting any more time, you make your way to the front of the lecture hall and take a seat in the very first row. Hopefully, someone else would join you and you could strike up a conversation.

You’re arranging your pens in colour order when your phone vibrates.

Peter: Good luck, babe! I know first days can be hard, but you’re gonna smash it! See you tonight!

Smiling softly, you text your boyfriend a quick response before putting your phone away – the lecture is about to start and you don’t want to miss a single word.

A chorus of loud snickers makes you look back over your shoulder. It’s the group of jock alphas – they’re only a couple of rows behind you now, laughing over something while they look in your direction. You suddenly feel self-conscious, looking over your hoodie for any stains, eyes scanning around your vicinity for anything remotely funny.

You’ve just given up and gone back to opening your notebook when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s the brunet alpha, he’s standing next to your desk with a cocky smile on his face.

“Hey, newbie.”

You smile shyly, “Hi.”

“YOU’RE SUCH A DOG, BARNES!” One of the alpha jocks hoots from the back and all the rest of the pack guffaws too, some even making barking sounds. It causes the smile to freeze on your face.

The brunet laughs in his friends’ direction before turning back to you, “Ignore them. You a transfer student or something?”

“No. I’m a freshman. This is my first day.”

“Freshman, huh?” He licks his lips. He’s got nice lips; you think to yourself before inwardly shaking your head in alarm. You have a boyfriend, you remind yourself. But the brunet in front of you also has nice eyes, you can’t help but notice. Light blue and shining, along with scruffy brown hair and a smattering of facial hair. “What’s a little freshman like you doing here? You realise this is a senior class? Are you lost, newbie?”

“No, not lost, I’m meant to be here.” You tell him firmly, “I was interested in this class so I applied for it. I was the only freshman to be accepted.” You hope it doesn’t sound like you’re boasting, you can’t help but feel proud about it.

The brunet nods thoughtfully, “No kidding. You must be very smart.”

You shrug modestly.

“What’s your name, newbie?”

You tell him and he nods, repeating it to himself slowly as if he’s savouring the word.

“I’m James.” He says, “I mean, everyone calls me Bucky but you can call me James.”

You giggle nervously, “Wh-Why do I get to call you that?”

His smile is lop-sided and lazy, and you can’t help but stare. It brightens up his whole face, painting an image of mischief across his features. But he’s not intimidating, not like his friends who continue to hoot and yell behind him. You feel fire on your cheeks because he looks kind of… cute.

Wait. What?

“Pretty girls like you are allowed to call me James.”

The professor chooses that moment to clear his throat as he begins to start up the PowerPoint presentation.

“Well, anyways, newbie. I just came over to say hello. And while I’m here, I was wondering if I could borrow a pen. I forgot mine and you seem to have… a lot.” He gestures to your collection of pens – you have one in just about every colour of the rainbow.

You nod eagerly – you hadn’t expected an alpha jock to be the first one to speak to you at college, but you weren’t complaining.

“Sure! Take your pick,” You say enthusiastically “The blue one doesn’t work too well, but the rest are all good! If you prefer ink pens over ballpoint, I’ve got those too!”

“What about this pink one?”

“Oh,” Your response is less than enthusiastic, “I mean… I always use the pink one. But if you really want it–”

He laughs, reaching out and patting your hand softly. And the touch, despite being seemingly innocuous, sends thrills up and down your spine. You can’t help but think how much bigger his hand is than yours.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You use the pink one. I’ll take this one instead.” He grabs a green pen, and that’s when you get a strong whiff of his scent. Smoky yet dewy – like a cosy fireplace on a winter morning. Fresh like snow mixing with the earth, like cold rain mingling with a special kind of musk.

Bucky seems to notice how you suddenly pause, your nose twitching as you repeatedly inhale his scent. He chuckles softly, waving a hand in front of your face, “Hey, you still there?”

You shake your head, giving yourself a moment to gather yourself before looking up at him, “Yeah, uh. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Because the lecture’s about to start, and you look like someone who doesn’t want to miss a word.” He winks, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send shivers of excitement up and down your spine, “Well, thanks for the pen, newbie.”

And then he goes back to join his friends, leaving you with a lightness in your heart, a spark in your eyes and a smile on your lips. You’d always thought jocks were mean, but Bucky – James – had been nice. Maybe it was a sign, a sign that your first year of university perhaps wouldn’t be as daunting as you originally thought.

You risk a glance back at him. He’s sat a few rows behind you, next to his blond friend. The two couldn’t be more different – with Bucky sitting back, relaxed and laughing, the pen you gave him dangling out of his mouth like a cigarette. The blond sits up straight with rigid posture, and he looks sullen, a touch of a scowl on his face as he looks at Bucky. And then he turns, piercing blue eyes glaring right at you.

You turn back to look in front. That can’t be right. This blond jock doesn’t even know you. Sighing, you begin to take notes, the world of politics taking over as you excitably fill page after page.

You’re immensely satisfied when the class ends – it was everything you wanted it to be and more. With the risk of sounding like a nerd – and you are a nerd, you’ll happily admit it – you’d enjoyed every second of the lecture, soaking in every word like a sponge. If this is what all university classes were going to be like, you’d stay forever.

“You look happy, newbie.” It’s Bucky again; the rest of his group is milling around by the exit, and you can’t deny the thrill you feel at the fact that he hung back with you.

“I am happy, wasn’t that just the most fascinating lecture ever? I mean, I’d heard things about this professor, that he’s so mesmerising to listen to. And it’s true!” You sigh almost dreamily, hugging your fresh notes close to your chest, “I feel like I’ve learnt more in this past hour than I did in the entirety of my high school history class.”

Bucky just stares at you, a smile on his face that reaches all the way up, making the sides of his eyes crinkle.

“What?” You ask consciously when he continues to just… look at you.

“Nothing. You’re just very cute, all bright-eyed and enthusiastic. Not like us jaded seniors.”

“BUCKY, LET’S GO.” As if on cue, the blond alpha bellows across the lecture hall.

Bucky seems wholly unperturbed, even as you jump from the loudness of the blonde’s tone.

“Your friend’s calling you,” You shuffle from one foot to the other, unable to ignore how the blond alpha is glaring at the pair of you all the way from the doorway, “He seems really impatient.”

With a wave of his hand, Bucky dismisses this claim, “Oh, don’t mind Steve. He’s just pissy these days because his girlfriend’s being a bitch.”

Oh. You have no idea what to say to that, so you just continue to pack up your things.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m gonna head over to the library,” You answer excitedly, “I’ve heard it’s really, really big. One of the biggest in the country. I got a glimpse of it during orientation, but I’ve got the rest of the day free so today I’m gonna sit in there and catch up on some reading, and may–”

“Why don’t I walk you there?” The brunet offers. And it’s his quiet confidence that gets to you, the way he’s got this small smile on his face, as if he knows you won’t refuse him, “I have a class in that direction anyways. Steve does too. We could both walk you there.”

You glance once more at Steve, who – believe it or not – is still glaring at you. Or are you imagining it? You’re about to respond when a tall blonde girl in a cheerleading uniform skips up to him. They kiss, and then leave the lecture hall hand-in-hand. You turn back to Bucky, who shrugs.

“Well. Scratch that. I guess it’s just you and me then, newbie. C’mon. I’ll give you a campus tour.”

Talking with Bucky is surprisingly simple. He’s easy-going and laidback, completely cool in the way he makes conversation. Talking about himself but at the same time asking you questions about your life. You’ve always been shy but you find yourself at ease with him, you find yourself laughing at his jokes… You even catch yourself staring at him more than a few times, completely captured by his pretty eyes and lazy smile.

“I’m mostly friends with everyone on the football team, but Steve’s my best friend,” He nods at the blond alpha who’s walking a few paces ahead of you two, hand-in-hand with the cheerleader who you assume is his girlfriend. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And then there’s Sam, but he’s hungover so he didn’t come in today.” Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he laughs, “Classic Sam.

The walk to the library is over a little too soon.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in the next lecture. Thanks for walking with me.” You say, backing away but not wanting to completely leave just yet.

“Princess, wait.” He grabs your hand, yanking you back till you’re only a few inches away from him. And maybe it’s the shock due to the fact that he called you princess, but you just… let him do it. He grins down at you.

“You’re not gonna leave without giving me your number first, are you?”

You giggle nervously, and you’re surprised that you have to swallow down the words ‘yes, I’ll give you my number’ which are on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shake your head slowly, “I, uh, I have a boyfriend.”

The alpha blinks, hand freezing midway through running through his hair. But then he relaxes, and that familiar lazy smile returns to his face. “So? Can’t friends save each other’s numbers? We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

You feel heat rising up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, “Oh. Of course. I guess we are. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed–”

“No worries, princess.” He takes your phone, quickly putting in his number and texting himself from yours before handing it back to you. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy, by the way. But I’m sure he won’t mind if I text you tonight, right?”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer, instead just winking at you before taking off. And you stand outside the steps of the library and watch him for a second. He catches up with Steve and gives him a hard thump on the back before falling into step next to him. Steve still has a scowl on his face but it slowly dissipates, and you watch for a moment as the two alphas talk animatedly. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you earlier, it was clear as day that the they were best friends.

It takes you a while to realise that you’re staring, and you quickly retreat into the library, the magical pull of books and knowledge sucking you in and making you forget about everything else.

***

“I’d say it was a good first day, as far as first days go.” You deduce, walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in your hands. You hand it over to Peter, who’s scrolling through Netflix in search of the perfect movie. Which is an impossible task since the two of you had seen practically everything Netflix had to offer – you guys had more movie nights then you did date nights. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you and Peter had gone out on a date. The thought seemed weird… you were much more comfortable sitting on the couch and gorging on popcorn and talking the night away with him – like you were right now.

“That’s good. Did you make any friends?”

You think back to Bucky’s twinkling blue eyes and feel a jolt of electricity run through you. Bucky was your friend, right? He’d said so. But for reasons you don’t quite understand, you only clear your throat and shake your head. “No. I talked to a few people but that’s all. I mean, it’s only day one, right? Nobody makes friends on day one.”

“True.” Peter agrees, his mouth full of popcorn. “Okay, so, I’m thinking it’s a teen dystopian movie kind of night. Hunger Games or Divergent?”

Your brow furrows while you think, “I don’t like Divergent and I’ve seen The Hunger Games way too many times.”

“Okay, how about Catching Fire?”

“The ending of that one makes me sad.”

You bicker back and forth before settling down with Alice in Wonderland, and the popcorn is half finished by the time the beginning credits start rolling. And that’s when your phone vibrates.

James: Hey, princess. You busy?

A smile touches your lips before you cast a quick glance at Peter. He’s half laid down on the other end of the couch with his eyes locked on the screen. You swallow down the guilt – you know Bucky is just your friend but it still feels kind of wrong to be texting him when you’re meant to be watching a movie with Peter. But there’s a large part of you that wants to answer, and it doesn’t take long for that part of you to win the inner conflict inside your head. You quickly text back:

You: Hey! I’m currently watching a movie with my boyfriend.

Your text is truthful, but you hope Bucky doesn’t think you’re dismissing him. His reply is almost instantaneous:

James: Aw, how cute. What movie is it?

You: Alice in Wonderland. Have you seen it?

You mentally kick yourself after you press send. What a dumb question – of course he’s seen it! Who hasn’t seen one of the most recognisable Disney movies of the last decade?

James: I have. I didn’t know you were such a big fan of cartoons, princess.

You feel the ends of your mouth tugging into a smile before you give Peter another glance. He’s polishing off the last of the popcorn, engrossed in Alice as she tumbles down the rabbit hole. You grab the empty bowl and stand up. “I’ll go make some more popcorn.”

Peter nods, “You want me to pause it?”

“No, that’s alright.”

You float into the kitchen and put another bag of popcorn in the microwave before taking a deep breath and looking down at your phone again.

James: Maybe we could watch a movie sometime? I’ve got a flatscreen in my room ;)

You feel a shiver go down your spine when you read his text, and you let yourself imagine it for a split second. Watching a movie with Bucky. In his bedroom. On his bed? You’d never been to a boy’s room before – except Peter, but he’d been your best friend all through high-school. Sure, he was your boyfriend now but you always do the same things you guys did when you were friends – just with added kissing and sometimes touching.

“Babe, you done?” Peter calls for you as if on cue.

Once more awash with guilt, you quickly type out a text:

You: I’m sorry, I should get back to the movie. Good night :)

You switch your phone off for the rest of the night, trying to focus on Alice’s adventures in wonderland, but the thought of Bucky dwindles at the back of your mind as if it’s there to stay.

***

You plan on avoiding Bucky the next day but that proves to be an extremely flimsy plan. You’re sitting in the front row when him and Steve and another guy – you assume it’s Sam – walk in. You get a pleasant whiff of Bucky’s scent before it’s overpowered by something stronger – the smell of firewood and a hot summer day. They walk by you, with Bucky giving you a small smile and a wink and Steve sucking in a breath, his nostrils twitching as he walks past you. Strange. What was his problem?

You still feel guilty about the previous night. Peter was your first ever relationship so you might not be the biggest expert on these types of things, but you’re sure that getting giddy over another guy texting you is not good girlfriend behaviour. You need to put a swift stop to it, starting now. You spend the rest of the lecture taking notes diligently, stuffing the thought of Bucky to the back of your mind.

When the class ends, you try to scurry away to the library. But you don’t get too far down the corridor before a hand encloses around your wrist and tugs you back.

“Princess, wait up. Where are you hurrying off to?”

“I – uh – I need to go to the library to print something.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh no, that’s okay.”

He looks at you for a handful of seconds before sighing and taking a step back, “This is about last night, isn’t it? My texts scared you off?”

You bite your lip, “James, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know, I know.” He runs a hand through his messy brown hair, shifting from one foot to the other before those icy blue eyes settle on you again. “I’ll be honest, princess. You’re so pretty, I thought I’d shoot my shot anyways.”

Your jaw drops, “B-But I have a boyfriend.”

He shrugs, looking virile and handsome with his facial hair and lazy smile, “That’s never stopped me before. I mean, it’s not really a big thing with me and my friends. If we want a girl, we go after her, boyfriend or not, it doesn’t matter to us.”

“Oh.” You don’t know whether to stay or just leave, and you’re debating over just that when Bucky pipes up again.

“Look, princess. I like you. And I have a hunch that you like me too. And as I said before, I usually don’t care if the girl I like has a boyfriend. But you’re different, I want to do right by you.” He strokes the palm of your hand with his thumb and it’s like you’re mesmerised by the feeling. “I’d really like to take you out sometime. But I can give you time to break up with your boyfriend first.”

You gasp, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “James Barnes! That’s so wrong. You know how awful of a person that would make me? And I barely know you!”

“Just think about it. I really like you.” He says earnestly, blue eyes sparkling and locking with yours as he grabs your hand again, “And breaking up with him will spare this guy the embarrassment of being with a girl who’s no longer into him.”

Your jaw drops open at his audacity, “That’s not true–!”

“Bucky, we have practice.”

Steve rounds the corner, stopping short when he sees the two of you so close, his eyes narrowing as they zero in on your intertwined hands.

“Gimme a sec.” Bucky answers, not even sparing Steve a glance, eyes unblinking as they stare at you meaningfully.

For the second time, you snatch your hand out of his grip. “I-I – uh – I have to go!” You do the easiest thing you can think of, backing away and getting the hell out of there. Bucky’s just dropped a huge bomb on you and Steve’s intimidating as hell, so you deem it best to put some distance between you and the two alphas as you speed-walk away from the situation.

“Why are you talking to that trashy omega?” You hear Steve mutter as you turn your back on them, and the hurtful words make your heart jolt.

“Hey, don’t call her that.” Bucky answers, and that’s the last thing you hear before you round the corner and escape into the comforting clutches of the campus library.

***

So, Bucky liked you. He liked you. As in, he wanted to take you out on a date. This information has you feeling giddier than it should. You’ve never known anyone to like you like that (except Peter) and never so brazenly. You can’t help but feel all light inside. A popular, handsome senior liked you!

But then, the flowy lightness inside you is overtaken by wracks of guilt, showering down on your heart like hard, jagged rocks. You’re with Peter. You like Peter. You can’t get happy over Bucky liking you when you’re with Peter. That’s just a fact.

You lay low for a couple of weeks, avoiding Bucky like he’s the plague. But you know his eyes are on you, glued to the back of your head during every lecture, when you keep your face pointedly facing forward and never look back at him. You can’t. You’re in a relationship. You have to respect it.

But then, things take a different turn than you ever expected them to.

Peter scores an internship at Stark Industries, which means he has to move to New York immediately. And you’re so happy for him, it’s what he’s been working towards and dreaming of for as long as you’ve known him. His goal of tackling the tech world is similar to your own goal of being the first person in your family to earn a university degree. You’re thrilled for him. But sitting on his bed and wistfully watching him pack, it’s like you both know what this means.

The break-up is mutual. Peter says that he’ll be busy with work, and you agree that you’ll be busy with college assignments too. And after one last movie night and a tearful goodbye, you both agree to try to remain best friends. He promises to come see you when he’s got a free moment, and you tell him you’ll travel up to New York once you’ve saved enough money to be able to afford it.

And then he’s gone. Off chasing his dreams and you couldn’t be happier for him.

But now you’re single. And what does that mean for you?

***

Bucky approaches you after spring break, sporting a healthy tan and messier hair. You’d overheard him and his friends talking earlier, so you knew they’d all flown to Cancun for the past week. Lucky them. You’d spent the break studying in your room, making notes for the next set of lectures to make sure you were well-prepared for them.

“Hello, princess. You’re looking extra beautiful today.”

You look down at your old hoodie and ratty leggings and wonder if he’s joking with you. “Uh, thanks?”

“I’m serious. You’re glowing, which can only mean one thing. You broke up with him, didn’t you?” Bucky leans down over your table, giving you a strong whiff of his wintery scent. It’s like freshly powdered snow and warm fire logs, enveloping around you like a welcome hug after your lonely spring break.

You purse your lips together, focusing on your notes except the lecture hasn’t started yet so you have nothing to write down except the date. But you’re determined not to look at him, “Actually, it was mutual.”

Bucky’s grin only gets wider, and to your surprise, he plops down on the empty seat next to you. Your eyes widen, “Wh-What are you doing?”

“What? I can’t sit next to you? Is this seat taken?”

Well, of course it wasn’t. You usually sat alone. Nobody really spoke to you apart from Bucky, but that was okay. It’s not like anyone was ever horrible to you either. Except Steve with that one comment that he’d made the other day. But you must have overheard him wrong.

“So, what did you do over spring break?” He asks.

You shrug, “I read up on the next few chapters on our syllabus.”

Bucky nods, “A quiet week, huh? Well, I wish I’d stayed back too.” He chuckles when he sees your raised eyebrow, “Hey, don’t get me wrong. Cancun’s beautiful, but it gets tiresome after a while. All Steve and Sam ever did was hook up with different girls. Constantly. Me? I just didn’t feel like doing that this time around.”

You frown, casting a short glance at Steve, except you quickly look away because he happens to be staring right back at you. But why was Steve hooking up with other girls? Didn’t he have a girlfriend? You mull over it for a second before you register the other thing Bucky had said. “Y-You didn’t feel like hooking up with anyone?”

The brunet clasps his hand over yours and shoots you a sparkling smile, “Why would I? When my girl wasn’t there with me?”

Bucky takes you out the following weekend. And you don’t know why you agree, when it’s so soon after your breakup with Peter. But when he asks you out, it just feels right, and the word “yes” is flying out of your mouth before you have the chance to think about it. Peter’s probably seeing other people too, you think to yourself. And the thought doesn’t bother you at all, because why shouldn’t Peter have his fun? He was single. And so were you.

Bucky presents you with a bouquet of pink tulips at the start of your date, and sits on your bed with an amused expression on his face while you quickly tend to them. Trimming the stems and finding a vase before setting them on your windowsill. “You look beautiful, princess.” He comments, making your cheeks feel like they’re on fire before he grabs your hand and takes you out.

The diner he takes you to is casual and pretty, only a few minutes outside of campus. The evening sunlight spills down through the window while Bucky brazenly holds your hands in his over the table – even when the waitress is taking your order! It makes you squirm, but in a pleasant kind of way. And he tells you about himself while you eat, how he knows he’s from a privileged family but always felt different growing up.

He tells you about all the mischief he and Steve got up to when they were kids, and then teens, and now young adults. And you can’t really imagine Steve, all stoic and mean and preppy-looking, getting up to any kind of mischief but you smile and nod anyways, loving how Bucky tells his stories in such an easy-going and charming way.

You’re a bit more guarded when he asks you about your childhood, though. You keep it brief and simple, outright evading certain details because you don’t want to get into it right now. But Bucky seems to understand, squeezing your hands before grabbing a napkin and wiping a spot of sauce on the side of your mouth.

He takes you to a nearby park after that. He buys a small loaf of bread so the two of you can feed the ducks. And he never lets go of your hand, and you can feel him watching you as you focus on the ducks gobbling up the pieces of bread. And then he grabs your chin and gently turns your face to him and he kisses you. And it’s sweet. Sweeter than it is with Peter. And you kiss him back, because you like how light and fluffy and exciting it feels to kiss Bucky.

It feels like you’re on cloud nine.

The dates get more frequent after that. Bucky walks you to class every day, holding your hand and talking to you about anything and everything. Like the latest report your class has been assigned, or his football team winning another game, or any new books you’ve read. You find yourself giggling and opening up a lot more, every shy bone in your body relaxing when you’re talking to him.

The kissing and touching becomes more frequent too. Often, he comes to your dorm room and things get hot and heavy. And oh, it’s so exciting feeling Bucky’s hands on you, and his expert kisses leave you breathless! He really was an incredible kisser, taking control and moving his tongue so lazily and perfectly against yours. But something within you always stops him before he can go any further.

“Bucky, please. I just got out of a relationship and I don’t know if I’m ready for sex.” You tell him truthfully one evening while he’s got you pinned down on your bed in the middle of a particularly passionate make-out session.

Bucky lies back down beside you while you fix the buttons of your cardigan which he’d almost had undone. He reaches down to adjust his boner through his jeans, “Princess, you’re killing me here. I want you so bad.”

You swallow, “I’m sorry, James. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Light blue eyes smile down at you as the alpha sits up and grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t apologise, princess. I understand.”

“I just feel bad, I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.” You duck your head, but he grabs your chin and lifts it up again, making you look at him.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’ve gone out this long with a girl without sleeping with her.” Bucky confesses, scratching his head with a sheepish look on his face. “I haven’t been a great boyfriend in the past, and my motives have usually been selfish.”

Your eyes grow wide, but you don’t say anything.

“I’m telling you this because I care about you, princess. I think you’re different.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and chucks you under your chin till you smile. “I like talking to you and spending time with you. You’re smart and beautiful and I know we haven’t been together long, but I really see a future for us.” He kisses you sweetly, and you’re too busy trying to tame the butterflies in your stomach to respond properly, but you try your best anyways.

“What I’m saying is, you can take all the time you need till you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as I have to till you’re ready to have sex.” Bucky finishes earnestly, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and plant a million kisses on his face. He’s saying all the right things, everything a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend.

“You really mean all that?” You ask him softly.

“Yes, princess, I mean it. You’re my girlfriend, and I’ll wait for you for as long as you need.” Bucky looks earnest and sweet, and you hug him hard. You feel a mix of thrill and nervous energy flutter through you. It’s something you’ve never felt before. But it’s a good feeling, and you welcome it with open arms as Bucky continues to leave tiny kisses all over your face. Till you’re giggling against his lips and hugging him close, feeling lighter than a feather.

***

Being the girlfriend of a popular senior was not something you’d envisioned happening to you at the start of university. But Bucky made it feel so natural, introducing you to all his friends, holding your hand all the time and including you in all his plans. His friends are nice enough: Sam was a bit cold at first but he warmed up after a while. Thor was loud and funny, Ransom acted overly smart and confident but seemed to have a sensitive side too. Curtis was mysterious and Andy was kind of dopey, and they were all friendly with you.

But then there was Steve.

The blonde alpha glowered at you any chance he got. Whenever you were in his presence, you could feel his steely blue eyes boring holes straight through your skin. You always kept out of his way so you were unsure why he seemed to hate you. Bucky just said not to take it personally, that Steve was just going through a rough patch with his girlfriend and he didn’t hate you at all.

One day, you’d gone over to Bucky’s house where he – unfortunately – lived with Steve and Sam too.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve had demanded when he’d opened the door and seen you standing there.

“Uh… James to-told me to meet him here after my morning classes.” You explain, feeling oddly nervous around the big alpha. You’re naturally shy but you’d come out of your shell quite a bit ever since you’d started dating Bucky. But Steve was just so intimidating, standing there in just a pair of grey sweats that are slung low over his hips. You avert your gaze to the ground in a bid not to stare at his bare chest.

Steve regards you suspiciously before stepping aside and letting you in. And you feel his heated gaze still on you as you brush past him to get inside. And that’s when you hear him inhale sharply, a low rumble coming from his chest before he stumbles. You whip around just in time to see him recover, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Steve scoffs, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Uh… You kinda just tripped?” You point out hesitantly, and the blonde alpha’s pale face goes crimson before he clears his throat.

“I did not trip.” He glowers through gritted teeth.

Okay then. You decide not to question his rude and erratic behaviour. “Where is James’ room?”

Steve glances upstairs before leaning against the kitchen counter, his intense gaze locking on you as his frown relaxes into a smirk. “He’s taking a shower right now. You should wait for him down here.”

“Okay.” You sit down at the kitchen table. The house is big, spacious and minimalistic in the way it’s decorated. The kitchen is modern and it’s clear that there’s only boys living here, because you can see a ton of takeout containers and microwave meals strewn across the countertops. Once you’re done observing your surroundings, you notice Steve still staring at you.

“So, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend now, huh?” He breaks the silence.

“Yes.”

“Strange. I never thought he’d go for someone like you.”

Your brows knit together into a frown as a pang of hurt echoes inside you, “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, and you try not to focus on his broad, muscular shoulders. But it’s not easy to just look at his face either, because he’s so intimidating. He runs a hand through his light hair, “Nothing, omega. Don’t worry your little head over it.

Your jaw drops open, “Don’t call me that, please. I have a name.”

“As if I care.”

God! It was like talking to an eight-year-old. You had no idea that Steve was this immature and rude, and it makes your blood boil. You’re just about to get up and find Bucky’s bedroom yourself when you hear a pattering of light footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Steve, I have to go. But promise you’ll text me tonight?” It’s a girl. You recognise her from college – you’ve definitely seen her around campus somewhere. But she’s definitely not Sharon. She skips up to Steve and plants a kiss on his cheek, and the alpha only responds with a grunt. You get a weird feeling inside you as you watch this exchange, but try your best to shake it off.

The girl stops to shoot you a smile. “Hey, you’re Bucky’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Nice to meet you!”

She leaves before you have a chance to reply, and you’re left staring at the back of her head as she shuts the door behind her, getting an eyeful of her hair which you vaguely notice is the same shade as yours. And it’s only when she’s gone that you realise your mouth is open in shock, and you slowly turn to Steve who looks wholly unbothered.

“Aren’t you going out with Sharon?” You can’t help but blurt out.

Steve raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he continues to just stare at you. You feel hot all over, and you don’t know whether it’s because of his eyes on you or because of the sudden anger you feel at the blatant display of cheating you’ve just witnessed.

“That’s not fair on your girlfriend, Steve.” You whisper.

And all Steve does is stare at you, to the point where you feel waves of heat on your face. And then suddenly you’re hit with this overwhelming scent of burning firewood. A freshly mown lawn with a strong sun beating down on it, and smoky wood on a hot summer’s day. Your eyes widen as the intimidating alpha walks over to you, leaning down at the table where you’re sitting.

“I don’t remember asking for some lowlife omega’s opinion on my private business.” He says softly, but there’s danger and threat embedded in his words and it makes your blood run cold. But your nose can’t stop twitching as it takes in his heady scent, and you feel your mind cloud over and your limbs grow weak like jelly and–

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put a shirt on in front of my girlfriend, Stevie.” Bucky chuckles, elbowing past Steve and making his way over to you. He helps you up and plants a firm kiss to your lips. You’re still rattled by the blonde alpha, though, and distractedly kiss your boyfriend back. You can still feel Steve’s eyes on you, and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“You ready to go, princess?” Bucky tugs at your hand and you nod, allowing him to pull you out of the house. It’s only when the fresh outside air whips against your face that you seem to snap out of whatever trance you’re in. You swallow and shake your head as Bucky leads you to his car, and you only speak once both of you are inside.

“Steve did something awful.” You breathe.

Bucky frowns before squeezing your arm, “What? Did he touch you?”

“N-No, he…” You shake your head, feeling a wave of anger overtake you momentarily, “He had a girl over, James. He was cheating on his girlfriend!”

“Oh.”

The silence is louder than ever as Bucky starts up the car and backs out of the driveway. He puts his arm over the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, and it’s not until he’s on the main road that you huff:

“Is that all you have to say?”

Bucky grimaces, keeping his eyes glued to the road, “Look, Steve isn’t exactly in love with Sharon.”

“But she’s his girlfriend, Bucky. He shouldn’t be cheating on her either way!”

“I know, I know. What can I say?” He pauses, as if mulling over how to say his next words. “Look, princess. Steve’s young, he’s only in college. It’s what us guys do. Why have one piece of the pie when you can have the whole thing, you know? That sort of thing.”

It only takes Bucky about three seconds to realise the error in his words. You turn to stare at him in utter shock and horror. Was this really James? Your James? Who had said all the right things and been so sweet and gentlemanly all these weeks? Who had respected your boundaries and never questioned you or lashed out for wanting to wait?

“Is that why you’re so okay with us not having sex?” You say quietly. “Because you’re getting it from somewhere else?”

“What? No, sweetheart. No, that’s not it at all.”

Bucky turns into a random lane and stops the car before turning to you. You try to bat him off but he grabs both your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing kisses on your fingers and palms before yanking you into an embrace.

“I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing for me to say.” He mumbles into your hair, and you try to find solace in his scent but it’s not strong enough right now. He kisses the top of your head before drawing back to make eye contact. “Princess, I’m not seeing anyone else behind your back, that I can promise you.”

“But how can I believe you? When it was so easy for you to justify what Steve’s doing?” You sniffle.

Bucky sits back in his seat and sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. “Look, it’s no secret that us alphas are all a bunch of assholes. We don’t really hide it, either. Steve’s cheating on his girl because, well, it’s almost normal for a lot of us to do that. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t slept with multiple girls without them knowing about each other in the past.”

You bow your head, not liking this at all. But Bucky grabs your chin gently, lifting it up so you look at him.

“But I’m past all of that now, okay? I really like being in a serious and committed relationship with you, princess. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl, and I would never even think of being with anyone else.” He cups your face and strokes your cheek, and his eyes are so pretty and blue, and you can feel your heart melting already as he gives you a peck. “I guess I just wasn’t surprised by what Steve did because I’m so used to it.”

You nuzzle your face into his palm, “Can’t you tell him that it’s wrong? That you’ve grown out of doing stuff like that, and that he should too?”

Bucky chuckles, pressing your cheeks and nose with more soft kisses, “I could. But Steve is extremely stubborn and bossy, in case you haven’t noticed.” He pauses, smiling fondly at you when you giggle softly in agreement, twining a piece of your hair around his finger. “The way I see it, we should just focus on our relationship, and let Steve do whatever it is he’s doing since it’s got nothing to do with us. It took meeting the right girl for me to recognise the error of my ways. Maybe soon, he’ll find someone that he’ll want to be better for too, right?”

You nod, despite that weird feeling surfacing inside you once more. But you shove it back down and give Bucky a smile as he pulls you in for another long kiss.

“Well, let’s get to that movie, shall we? We’ve probably missed the opening credits and I’m gonna have to cut the line to get us our snacks, but I think we can still make it.”

You spend the rest of the evening at the drive-in movie theatre with Bucky. He reclines his seat and makes you climb over the console to sit in his lap while the two of you watch Gone with the Wind on the big screen with a bag of sweet and salty popcorn and a bar of chocolate to share. Once the snacks finish, you sleepily rest your head on his chest and let him stroke your back through your hoodie. And you almost fall asleep like that, Scarlett O’Hara’s indignant dialogues lulling you into a peaceful slumber until your nostrils are unceremoniously invaded with the scent of burning firewood and a hot summer’s day.

Opening your eyes slowly, you peak out the window to see another car pull up beside Bucky’s. And your heart sinks down to the depths of your chest when you see who’s inside. Steve. And Sharon. She’s talking to him animatedly, but he seems sullen and unresponsive as always. That is, until they start making out, and you have to forcibly look away when Steve’s eyes meet yours and you feel this burning feeling in your chest.

You swallow harshly before cuddling up to Bucky even more.

“James, I’m sleepy,” you say softly.

“Yeah? You wanna go home, princess?”

“Yes, please. If that’s okay?”

“Sure, princess.” He lifts you up and places you back on the passenger seat before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Close your eyes and rest. I’ll tuck you into bed once we get back to your dorm.”

And he does just that, carrying you all the way back into your dorm room and helping you change before putting you to bed. And you can’t describe whatever it is you’re feeling but all you can do is clutch at his shirt when he goes to leave, pulling him into bed with you. And he rains your face with a billion kisses before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

***

Life at college continues. You’re still in contact with Peter, despite the two of you being so busy. But he sends you updates about his internship and all the cool technology he’s being exposed to. You tell him about your classes and all the interesting things you’re learning. You also, very tentatively, tell him about Bucky. Surprisingly, Peter seems supportive, and the conversation between the two of you grows easy once more.

The romance between you and Bucky seems to blossom with every passing day. He carries your books to class and takes you out on cute dates that make your heart flutter. Picnics, scenic walks, movies, restaurants – he takes you everywhere you’ve ever dreamed of being taken. And how your heart had skipped a beat when you’d seen he’d had a bouquet of yellow roses delivered to your dorm room! There was no note or tag attached, but you knew they were from Bucky. Who else could they be from? And they were the prettiest flowers you’d ever received, and the butterflies in your tummy fluttered at his perfect choice.

It was also in the little things he did, like kiss you on the forehead reassuringly or squeeze your hand when you’re feeling nervous. And slowly, you feel yourself coming out of your shell more and more. You find yourself laughing out loud and voicing your opinions that usually you would’ve kept silent.

Being Bucky’s girlfriend meant hanging out with his group of friends, too. And it thrills you that you’re able to hold conversations with some of them, and have them be genuinely interested in what you have to say and not just write you off as a “dumb omega”.

One day, you find yourself sitting on Bucky’s lap in the campus courtyard between classes, a number of his friends surrounding you. You still feel nervous around this many people (especially intimidating seniors) but with Bucky squeezing your hand reassuringly, you find the task less daunting than you normally would, as you grow to feel more comfortable with them.

Well, most of them.

“…and then I told her to fuck off, because who knows what kind of diseases she was carrying. I mean, she’s fucked half the football team after all.” Steve says cockily, taking a drag from his cigarette while the alphas around him all laugh as if he’s cracked the funniest joke of the century. Even Bucky chuckles before you shoot him a look and he stops, a sheepish look on his face.

“I mean sure, she’s got a great ass, but there’s nothing attractive about a slut who spreads her legs for any man who looks her way.” The blond alpha continues, and it irritates you how all his friends seem to hang on to his every word, looking up to him like he’s some sort of God.

Having been with Bucky long enough, you had somewhat cracked the hierarchy of his friend group. And Steve was definitely the leader, the one they all flocked to and tried to impress. Well, not Bucky – he and Sam were the only ones who would keep Steve in check. But the blonde alpha’s ego was through the roof, as were his misogynistic ideals and derogatory views towards omegas and women in general.

And you hated how shy you were, especially around him. You felt sickened by Steve’s gross statements but you could never say anything against him. A part of you just wanted to be liked and accepted by Bucky’s best friend, but Steve only alternated between glaring at you or pretending you didn’t exist.

“HI, BABY!”

A high-pitched squeal knocks you out of your reverie, and you watch as Sharon jogs up to Steve in her pretty blue cheerleading outfit. Together, they look like the perfect couple. Head cheerleader and the captain of the football team. Perfect. You feel that weird feeling bubbling up inside you again but do your best to keep it at bay.

Steve rolls his eyes before Sharon launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his. Steve, however, remains stoic.

“Gosh, baby, could you please put that cigarette out?” Sharon says, pushing a wayward lock of Steve’s blonde hair off his forehead.

“No.”

She giggles, shaking her head before turning to you. “Men, huh? Stubborn as ever. I’ve asked him to stop smoking about a bajillion times, but he never listens.”

You smile and nod, feeling stupid and awkward as ever because Sharon is pretty and popular and you don’t know how to act.

“I like your pin.” Sharon points at the World Politics Society pin on your bookbag, “I couldn’t even dream of getting into that class. You must be really smart.”

Steve snorts but everyone ignores him.

“Thank you, I find the subject really interesting,” you reply.

You watch Sharon as she talks to everyone in the group. She’s kind, confident and beautiful – everything you wish you were. But that weird, indescribable feeling keeps surfacing inside you every time she locks hands with Steve, or brushes his hair back, or smooths the wrinkles on his sweater.

“And Mister Barnes, how come I’ve never met your girlfriend before now? When she’s practically my sister-in-law?” Sharon hits Bucky lightly on the arm before shooting you another bright smile. “We should organise a double-date. Me and Steve and you both. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

Steve scoffs but everyone ignores him.

“Epically fun, Miss Carter.” Bucky gives her a charming smile before tugging you close to his chest. “We could go bowling or something. If His Highness is up for it.”

Steve takes another drag of his cigarette, saying nothing. In fact, he’s barely said a word since his girlfriend joined the conversation, and you find that to be weirdly peculiar. Why was he even with her if all he did was cheat on her and ignore her every time she spoke?

“Looking forward to it!” Sharon smiles before checking her phone, “Okay, I gotta go now or else I’ll be late for practice. I’ll see you tonight, baby?” She gives Steve a peck on the lips, which he also doesn’t return.

“Sure.” Steve answers, finally seeming to snap out of it as his hand meanders down to squeeze her ass. You feel your own hand clench into a fist but you quickly relax it and hope no one saw. What the heck was that? Why had you reacted that way?

“What a fuckin’ bitch.” Steve resumes once Sharon is out of earshot. “As I was saying, I told this other whore who was all over me the other day that I just wasn’t interested in sluts like her, and she said–”

“Could you stop being such a misogynistic jerk?!”

You can’t believe the words have left your mouth, and your hands start shaking immediately once you realise they have. Never before have you raised your voice at someone like this, let alone a formidable alpha who’s about twice your size.

Steve’s cold blue eyes rest their steely gaze on you, when up until this point he’d been content on pretending you weren’t there. You dare peak up at him and see his jaw tick, and a vein protrude from the side of his forehead.

“What did you just say to me?” He asks softly.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Bucky says warningly, but you sit up straight.

“I’m… I’m sorry, but I just don’t like how you talk about women.” You say, hating how your voice shakes and how you can’t look Steve in the eye.

“And I don’t like the tone you’re taking with me right now.” Steve’s intense gaze bores holes straight through you before he looks at Bucky, “Haven’t you taught her not to speak to her superiors like that?”

Your jaw drops open in pure shock, “H-How dare you–”

“Okay, let’s go.” Bucky hoists you to your feet while your whole body seems to shake with shock, anger, and a tiny bit of fear. The brunet alpha holds you tightly by the arm before evenly glancing back at his best friend. “Steve, don’t speak to my girl like that. In fact, if you’re going to be rude, then don’t speak to her at all.”

You and Bucky don’t stick around to hear Steve’s retort, and it’s only when you round a corner and are hidden from the rest of the group by a brick wall, that you burst into tears.

“He’s – so – awful!” You cry, your heart pitter-pattering in a mix of fear and hurt. You hated being spoken to like that, like you were beneath him. Bucky holds you close and you sob into his chest, hugging him as hard as you can. His solidness and wintery scent is a source of comfort to you, and so is his hand which rubs your back soothingly.

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, princess. I’ll make sure to speak to him about it later.” Bucky promises you, pressing soft kisses to your hairline while you cry, leaving splotchy tear-stains on his shirt.

“Why is he even with Sharon when he doesn’t seem happy with her at all?!” You burst out, desperately wiping at your teary eyes except it doesn’t stop you from crying even more. “He’s just…I just… Oh, I hate him, James! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. I’ll talk to him, don’t you worry.”

Looking into his earnest eyes, you can tell Bucky’s intentions are good. And you don’t know if he talks to Steve or not, but you do receive another delivery of yellow roses to your dorm room that very night. This time, there’s a note attached too. “I’m sorry” is all it says, and you can’t help but smile as you hold the roses up to your nose and take in their delicate scent. Bucky was obviously feeling bad about the whole situation – and it wasn’t even his fault!

But clearly, your boyfriend knows you well, because the flowers do lift your mood up a little bit. You place the second bouquet of yellow roses caringly next to the first one. They look expensive and beautiful, and have your entire room smelling heavenly and sweet. It makes you smile and clasp your hands together, and you’re just about to call Bucky when you hear a rustling from outside your window, followed by a series of heavy footsteps.

Strange. Who would be out at this time? And in the bushes outside your dorm room, no less? You decide you’ve probably imagined it, but you close your window and draw your curtains anyways before calling Bucky.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You tell him, a huge smile plastered on your face as you take one last whiff of the roses before flopping down on your bed on top of all your pillows and stuffies.

“I do know that, sweetheart, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” Bucky laughs from the other end of the phone. “It’s also nice to hear you sound so happy.”

You grab your stuffed rabbit and tug his ears mindlessly, “Yeah, I know I acted like a huge cry-baby earlier today.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it, princess? Anyways, I spoke to Steve.”

Your heart skips a beat, “You did?”

“Yes. Look, he’s set in his traditional ways and he’s stubborn as hell. But he did look like he regretted speaking to you that way, and I don’t think he’ll do it again.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s all I want. Thank you for speaking to him, James.” There’s a pause, and then you pipe up hesitantly: “And what about Sharon? Is he still going to stay with her?”

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t he?”

BECAUSE SHE’S NOT RIGHT FOR HIM! The omega inside you screeches, and the sheer vitriol you feel makes you sit up straight, eyes wide and hands shaking. What the heck? Where had that outburst even come from?

“Hello? Princess? You still with me?”

You clear your throat and physically shake your head to rid yourself of that weird feeling that seems to be bubbling inside you so often now. But never before had it manifested into your inner thoughts screaming at you like how they just had. You feel hot all over, and quickly place your palm on your forehead to check if you have a fever before remembering Bucky is still on the phone.

“I’m here. Sorry, I just…” What can you even say to him? Without sounding crazy? You take a deep breath. “Thank you for talking to him, James. I’m just glad he won’t be mean anymore. Everything else isn’t really any of my business.”

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.”

***

True to Bucky’s word, slowly but surely, Steve becomes a lot more bearable to be around. He’s still awful in his misogyny but at least he no longer glares at you or makes you feel unwelcome and uncomfortable when you’re with Bucky and his friends. You still catch him staring at you sometimes, but you must be imagining it because you know he hates you. You try not to care though, and only focus on Bucky.

“I want you to meet my parents, princess.” Bucky says to you one day. The two of you are in your dorm room where you’d just completed an intense study session. Well, you’d been studying while Bucky grew distracted after about ten seconds of staring at his textbook, and proceeded to kiss and touch you while you laughed and batted him off. “And I would like to meet your parents too.”

The smile drops from your face almost instantaneously, and you nervously grab your stuffed rabbit and pull its ears. “Oh, I… Uh…”

“I mean, we’ve been seriously dating for a while now, haven’t we? It’s only right that I get to meet the parents of the girl who captured my heart.”

You smile uneasily, heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “What are your parents like?” You blurt out, trying to deflect.

Bucky lies back on your bed, “They’re great. My dad’s a lawyer so he’s always working. My mom is usually at home, though. She makes a great apple pie and she’s also great for when I need advice.”

You smile softly, “She must really love you.”

He blinks. “Of course, she does. All parents love their children.”

He goes on to tell you about how his dad used to take him golfing at the country club when he was younger, and how much he hated it. But he’d always get treated to ice cream afterwards, which was why he agreed to go every time. He tells you about how his mother values family over everything, which was why he went home every other Friday to have dinner with his family, and how he’d love for you to join him on one of those dinners soon.

You nod and agree, but you feel like crying on the inside. There’s a sense of yearning inside you that you can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you cuddle into Bucky or how much he kisses you.

His hands slowly slip down to your hips, squeezing gently before meandering up under your hoodie. His touch is tentative yet confident, and usually it excites you. But you always stop him before he goes too far, hoping and praying he doesn’t get mad at you. Which he never does. Instead, the two of you lazily make out on your bed until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. And then the nightmares commence, but when you wake up, you can’t remember them at all.

***

“Ooh, look at the pink bowling balls! And the powder blue ones. Aren’t they cute, Steve?” Sharon clutches Steve’s muscular bicep, her perfectly manicured nails scraping lightly against his pale skin. Steve only grunts in response before shaking her off as him and Bucky go up to the counter to pay for one session of bowling for all of you.

Through Sharon’s pure will and determination, the four of you find yourselves on a double date at the bowling alley. She seemed blissfully unaware of the fact that Steve hated you, or that you didn’t particularly like Steve either, and had practically begged Bucky to organise the date. Bucky had said you didn’t have to do it, but what harm could one night of bowling actually do? Especially since Steve hadn’t really been mean to you for a while now.

“Do I seriously have to wear these ugly bowling shoes?” Sharon complains, gingerly holding up the dirty shoes and making a face.

“Don’t wear them. Let’s see what happens.” Steve pipes up.

Bucky laughs, “Unless you want a broken toe, you better put them on.”

It’s Steve and Sharon against you and Bucky. You’ve bowled a few times, so you’re not embarrassingly bad or anything. Bucky is fairly good too. Surprisingly, Sharon turns out to be extremely skilled at bowling, getting a strike on her first try.

And then there’s Steve.

“Another gutter ball, Rogers!” Bucky doubles over in glee, practically in tears. You try to hide your amused smile and even Sharon can’t help but laugh.

“Shut up!” Steve seethes, looking redder than a tomato as he jams his hands in his pockets and walks back to the bench you’re all sitting on. He casts a quick glance in your direction, his nose twitching. “There’s too many distractions here.”

“What distractions, bro? You’re just a bad player.” Bucky mocks, jabbing his elbow into his friend’s ribs and laughing even harder when the blond gives him an absolutely murderous look.

Bucky gets up and stretches, “I think I need a beer. You want one, Steve?”

Steve flips him off.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You girls want anything?”

“Maybe a strawberry milkshake? Or iced tea sounds good. And I think we should also get some food for Steve before he implodes. Maybe nachos? Or curly fries. I’ll go with you, since that’s a lot to remember.” Sharon gets up.

Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, “Think you can hold down fort and keep us in the lead until I get back, princess?” He whispers.

You giggle, “I think so. I just need to get a minimum of one pin.”

They leave, and you get up to do your turn. Making your way over to the contraption where they keep all the bowling balls, you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. God, without Bucky and Sharon here, you felt all shy and nervous. Not to mention his scent, which was so overpowering as it settled into your nostrils. Just ignore him, you think to yourself before absentmindedly selecting a bowling ball.

You’ve taken one step towards the bowling lane when the ball slips from your sweaty palms. It’s a lot heavier than you anticipated, and you can’t take the weight as you watch it fall down almost in slow motion. There’s a flurry of movement, Steve moving quick as lightning and batting the ball sideways before it completely crushes your foot. It ends up bouncing on the tip of your toe with a loud thud before rolling away under the table.

“What the fuck inspired you to choose the heaviest ball available? You could have really hurt yourself!” Steve shakes you angrily by the shoulder as you remain frozen in place, still registering what just happened.

“I…I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You stammer before suddenly becoming aware of your toe throbbing from where the bowling ball had fallen. Most of its weight had been absorbed by your shoe, but your toe still hurts. And you hate being such a baby, but your lower lip can’t help but quiver, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

You don’t really register it as Steve’s fingers encircle around your wrist, and he tugs you back to the bench, forcing you down before crouching in front of you.

“Did you hurt yourself? See, this is why little omegas like you shouldn’t be carrying heavy things. I told Bucky bowling was a bad idea.” At the mention of his best friend’s name, Steve instinctively whips his head towards the snack counter, and you do too. Bucky and Sharon are still in line, and with their backs turned and so many people around, you doubt they can see you.

You sniffle, “I didn’t think it would be that heavy.”

“Of course, you didn’t. You’re just a baby omega, and sometimes you don’t think about things like that. Here, let me see.” Before you realise what’s happening, he grabs your ankle with one big, warm hand; and uses the other to unstrap your shoe. You gape at him, the scent of smoky firewood and a freshly mown lawn making you swallow harshly and freeze in place, letting him slip your shoe off.

But it only a takes handful of seconds for you to come back to your senses, and you shake your head and cringe backwards.

“Uh, th-that’s okay, Steve. It stopped hurting now, I think I’ll be fine.”

But his grip on your ankle doesn’t loosen, your shoe falling to the ground and his blue eyes zeroing in on your foot which is covered by just your lacy white ankle sock. The air feels thick around you both, and you feel your breathing start to get laboured as you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

Slowly, tentatively almost, he strokes your foot with his other hand. And a part of you is so acutely aware of how weird this is. You boyfriend’s best friend tending to your injury in the middle of a crowded bowling alley – while Bucky and Sharon were in the same vicinity!

“You’ll be alright.” Steve says gently (the gentlest you’ve ever heard him speak), as he continues to stroke your throbbing toe, “You just need to be more careful, okay?”

You find yourself nodding, your entire body buzzing with some sort of strange energy that you’ve never felt before. “I guess I just got distracted.”

Steve’s hand remains rubbing your toe, but his eyes look up to meet yours. And you almost forget how to breathe, feeling like there’s a bubble encasing the two of you, and everyone else is far, far away. All you can feel is his burning gaze and his hand touching you.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, I’ve been distracted all night too.” And you can’t help but notice how long and dark his lashes are, how they contrast so deeply from his pale hair and skin, how they fan against his cheekbones as he blinks up at you almost earnestly. “Maybe I should drive you home.”

That knocks you out of whatever reverie he’s pulled you into. Drive you home? While his girlfriend and your boyfriend stayed here? Was he insane?

You forcibly tug your foot out of his grasp, quickly putting your shoe back on before he can grab it again. And Steve stays in his crouched position in front of you, almost as if frozen in place. He’s staring at his hand, the one that was holding your ankle, before he looks up at you. There’s a fiery look in his eyes, one you can’t fully explain. You also can’t fully explain why your heart is beating like mad, and there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“I’m fine, Steve. Really. Thank you for uh… Just… Thanks.” You mumble.

Steve blinks, opening his mouth to speak before he shuts it again when he looks beyond your shoulder. He coughs, standing up to his full height and moving away from you suddenly. And you watch him whip his phone out, pretend he’s texting someone, and all the while your heart just won’t calm down. And then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“We’ve got snacks!” Sharon announces, skipping over to Steve and handing him a bunch of things, “Here you go, babe. These cheesy fries are literally to die for. Me and Bucky picked at them on the way back here. Oh, and here’s your beer.”

You watch as Sharon simpers at her boyfriend, grabbing his hand and leading him to a nearby bench. Feeding him fries while he bats her hand away, instead grabbing his beer and taking a long swig. His face is still red, and his eyes are still bright, and–

“You okay, princess?” Bucky sits down beside you and puts his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze. “You look troubled.”

You force a smile, “I’m fine, James.”

“Did Steve say something to you? Do you need me to talk to him again?”

Rapidly, you shake your head. Subconsciously, you’ve already made the decision not to tell Bucky about the weirdness that has just transpired. And the guilt is already eating you up from the inside out, despite the fact you hadn’t done anything. Or hadn’t you? Why had you not pulled away sooner? And why was Steve acting this way? Why was he so gentle, so tender? When every other instance between the two of you has been either him ignoring you, or being rude towards you?

Suddenly, your head hurts.

Bucky seems to understand that something is off with you, because he tells Sharon and Steve that he’s tired and wants to cut the night short. You hug Sharon goodbye, feeling like you want the ground to eat you up whole, before your boyfriend leads you out of the bowling alley.

“Princess, please tell me what’s bothering you.” He says moments later when the two of you are in his car.

You force a smile, “Nothing!”

His light blue eyes, so piercing in the darkness of the car, stare at you as if they can see right through you. But all he does is draw you in for a hug, and you feel your body sag into his. Bucky feels so cosy and safe, so dependable and good. All your worries and concerns dissipate for a moment as you hug him back almost fiercely.

“Well, why don’t we go get some ice cream?” He asks kindly.

You bury your face in his chest, not quite done hugging him yet. Maybe you were just overthinking whatever had happened back there with Steve. Maybe the blond alpha was just trying to turn a new leaf and be kind for once. Maybe his actions had been innocuous after all. You sniffle before looking up at your boyfriend and pressing a long kiss to his lips.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Bucky gets a double mint chocolate chip cone and you get a vanilla strawberry swirl. He licks the ice cream that you accidentally smear on the side of your mouth as you dig in, and then you both kiss some more. Sweet kisses and sweet touches laced with giggles. And then he takes you on a drive, and you roll the windows down and let the breeze hit your face as if you’re the main character in an indie film, allowing the cool night air to wash away any remnants of guilt. Bucky’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other one holding steadily onto yours, squeezing every few seconds and shooting you lovesick smiles that you return.

He parks outside of your dorm building and pulls you over the console and into his lap. And you let him kiss you and touch you and try to lose yourself in it. Try not to think of a hot summer’s day and freshly mown grass. You don’t even stop him when he pushes his hand down your leggings and past your panties, and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers brush against your hot core.

“Are you sure about this, princess?” Bucky breathes against your lips, and you want to cry at how sweet he is. How patient and kind. You don’t deserve him at all. You nod your head to indicate that yes, you are sure. You kiss him doubly hard, trying to drown out the feel of wanting to cry. Because actually no, you’re not sure about this. You don’t know if you’re ready. But you feel so bad, so bad for what happened with Steve.

You didn’t even do anything! The rational part of your brain screams. So then why did it feel like you had?

Bucky moves his fingers expertly inside you, his thumb rubbing your bundle of nerves in a way that does make you momentarily forget about anything else except for his touch. You mewl his name, clutching the fabric of his shirt and rutting against him. His large hands rub up and down your back, his lips warm against your ear as he coaxes you, “That’s right, princess. Let go for me, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

You come hard, body shaking and spasming on top of him as he holds you close to his chest. Praises you for being so good for him, for being so beautiful and perfect. And it’s crazy, because you feel anything but those things right now. But you sob out his name softly, and let him stroke your hair back as he continues to talk you through your orgasm, “That’s it, princess. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl. Thank you for letting me in, sweetheart. Thank you for being so perfect.”

He lets you recover, all the while kissing you. And then he walks you to your room and bids you goodnight. He tells you he’d have stayed the night, but he has to drive home to pick up an important document for his father. You manage a weak smile, and return his kisses before waving goodbye.

And then you shut the door and burst into tears.

And you don’t even know why, because nothing had happened between you and Steve! Nothing at all. But you cry for all the confusion within you, the unresolved feelings of guilt that you can’t understand for the life of you, and how you can’t seem to shake this yearning sadness inside you. Oh, why did Steve have to be so different tonight? Why had his eyes reflected such tenderness? Why had he held your ankle like that? Why hadn’t he let go?

Why did you care so much?

You take a long shower and change into clean, comfortable clothes before trying to distract yourself with Netflix. And that’s when you hear a knock on your door.

It’s another bouquet of yellow roses. You smile at the delivery man – you recognise his face at this point, since he’s been to your dorm room three times now. You marvel at Bucky’s quickness, because he’d only dropped you home about an hour ago. He must have paid for express delivery or something. And this time, the bouquet is accompanied by not only a note, but also a small package.

I really enjoyed our date tonight, baby.

You smile softly at the short but sweet message, before your eyes shift to the package. It’s brown and unsuspecting, with a yellow ribbon holding it together. You gently rip it open.

Coal black eyes stare up at you. A furry little face. Tan coloured fur and a light blue bow-tie. It’s a teddy bear! You can’t help but crack a smile, heart feeling lighter than it has all day. Oh, it was so cute! Like a furry little baby. You hug it close to your chest, the butterflies fluttering happily around in your tummy. You don’t receive gifts too often, and this was a total surprise. And definitely one that was helping lift your lousy mood.

You fall asleep with the teddy in your arms, and no nightmares come. Instead, you dream of warm sunlight splashing down on your skin, and green grass so fresh you can almost smell it. And the silhouette of a shadowy figure who holds you close and promises to keep you safe. And the yearning feel goes away. And you feel content.

***

“Okay, do you want the good news first or the bad news?”

“Uh oh.” You bite your lip, immediately assuming the worst as your hand freezes in the middle of tossing a folded shirt into your overnight bag. Today was the day you and Bucky were driving down to Bucky’s family house, where you were finally going to meet his parents and stay for the weekend. “They don’t like me, do they?”

Bucky snickers over the phone, “Wrong, sweetheart. My parents love you. Well, they love the pictures of you that I showed them from my phone. That’s the good news, actually. They seem genuinely excited to meet you. My mom’s planning a whole five course dinner.”

You resume packing, putting in your pyjama bottoms, an extra hoodie, your plastic bag of toiletries, as well as your new favourite stuffed teddy bear. You force out a chuckle, hoping he can’t detect your anxiety and nervousness over the phone, “That’s good. I really hope I don’t let them down.”

“Let them down? How?”

You chew on your lip and whisper, “By not being good enough…”

“Princess, you’re the prettiest, kindest, sweetest and smartest girl I’ve ever dated. I don’t want you putting yourself down like that, okay?”

“O-Okay.” He was right – it wasn’t healthy to keep thinking of yourself in such a negative light. And it wasn’t like you enjoyed feeling sorry for yourself or drowning in self-pity, you just sometimes let the doubts you had about yourself creep in and take over your mind. Despite the fact that since day one, Bucky had been reassuring you about how perfect you were.

But would a perfect girlfriend be feeling as guilty as you were?

“What’s the bad news?” You ask, trying to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the conversation with your boyfriend.

Bucky sighs, “So, I had to actually stop by my dad’s office to sort out some paperwork. He only trusts me to do it, and since I’ll be working at his firm once I graduate, I figured it would be a good chance for me to show him that I’m actually competent with stuff like that.”

You nod, “That makes sense.”

“But that means I’ll be tied up all morning, so I won’t be able to drive you back to my house in Brooklyn.”

“Oh.” You let the words sink in. “That’s alright, James. I can just take the train.”

“Uh, I don’t think so, princess. But listen, Steve is going home for the weekend too, and his parents are practically neighbours with mine. He offered to give you a lift.”

You feel your whole body begin to shake as soon as his name is mentioned. It’s been a few days since the double date, and since what you’ve dubbed in your head as “the ankle incident.” Even now, your heart flutters at the memory, and you can still feel his warm fingers brushing over your foot as he’d held it in his hands and stroked you so softly. And when you close your eyes, you can see that earnest look on his face, and–

“Bucky, I really don’t mind taking the train.”

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t mind. But I mind, I don’t want my girl taking the train when you could easily just drive there.” There’s a pause as Bucky inhales deeply, “Look, I know you and Steve aren’t exactly the best of friends. But I really think he’s trying to turn a new leaf and be a nicer person. I mean, he actually volunteered to drive you, which is progress. And if I’m being honest, it would really give me peace of mind if I knew you were in the car with one of my friends instead of alone on a crowded, dingy train.”

“James, I really don’t think–”

“Please, sweetheart? For me?”

You exhale slowly, clasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. If Bucky had so much faith in Steve, then maybe it was you who was overthinking everything. Maybe Steve genuinely was turning a new leaf, and who were you to deny someone when they were doing you a favour? The drive down to Brooklyn would be long, but not too long. And Steve hadn’t been mean to you for many weeks now, so maybe it would all be okay?

“Okay, Bucky. If that’s what you want.” You agree softly.

“Great! Steve told me to tell you that he’ll pick you up at 3.”

***

Steve arrives outside your dorm at 2:55pm. Actually, you see his car pull up at around 2:45, and then you watch him park it and sit there drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. And then he gets out of the car and paces around for a while before finally making his way over to your door and knocking on it rather loudly. You give him a quiet hello and he gives you a grunt in return, the exchange giving you a sick feeling in your tummy – would it be this quiet and awkward for the whole journey? Before you can worry some more, Steve takes your overnight bag from your hands and leads you to his car.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He orders you the moment you sit down in the passenger seat.

“I was just about to.” You respond, a tad defensive because he hadn’t even given you a chance to breathe before he’d started ordering you around.

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t start the car until your seatbelt is firmly in place, and then you sit there twiddling your thumbs in silence because Steve doesn’t even have the radio on. You wonder if you should start a conversation, but you feel too shy. Which is crazy, since you’d really been starting to come out of your shell these past few months. But not with Steve. He was way too intimidating and scary and just… intense.

“How’s your toe?” He asks you gruffly out of the blue about ten minutes into the journey.

“It’s all good, thank you for asking.” Your response is cordial, and you wonder if you sound bitchy or clipped. It certainly isn’t your intention, but you’ve definitely got your guard up and you don’t really know how to speak to him.

Steve sighs, and there’s another fifteen minutes of silence before he pulls into a traffic jam, and that’s when he turns to face you.

“I broke up with Sharon.”

Your eyes widen and you feel your heart skip a beat, “Oh…uh…Oh.”

He nods, “Yeah. I took your advice.”

That makes you snap out of whatever momentary shock his sudden revelation had put you in. “My advice? Wh-What do you mean?”

The car starts moving again, and Steve takes his time to reply, and you wonder whether he can hear your heart pitter-pattering loudly in your chest as you anticipate his response.

“I’ve heard you, you know. All those times you complained to Bucky, asking him why I was with Sharon if I clearly didn’t care about her. And you were right, so I took your advice and I dumped her.”

You clear your throat, nervously tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I didn’t mean… Well… She deserves better, Steve.” You inhale deeply and turn to look out the window – either out of awkwardness or because you can’t seem to meet his gaze. But he’s got a weird pull about him, practically reeling you back in and you can’t help but look back at him once he starts speaking again.

“I told her I wasn’t interested in her anymore. That I was in love with somebody else.” Steve takes a turn off the highway, and you sit there frozen in shock as he takes quick left and right turns, eventually driving into a small, deserted street, where he parks the car. You swallow, but there’s a huge lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of.

“Wh-Why are we stopping here, Steve?”

“I like how my name sounds when you say it.” His hand creeps over the console in a bid to grab yours, and you quickly move back. Your back slams against the door as you cringe away from him, eyes wide and heart racing.

“Wh-What are you doing? Stop!”

Steve scoffs, “Please. Don’t play dumb, I know you like me too. And the sooner you stop denying it, the easier all of this will be for you.”

You can hardly believe what you’re hearing, it’s almost like your own ears are playing tricks on you. As if you’re Alice falling down some weird rabbit hole into a dimension where nothing makes sense. Was this a joke? Was he pulling some sort of prank? But he’s got that same earnest, honest look in his eyes, the look he’d had at the bowling alley. But you swallow and shake your head rapidly.

“Steve, no, I’m with James. He’s my boyfriend, I don’t like you like that –”

“DON’T LIE!” Steve bursts out, and the sudden explosion of anger makes you jump out of your seat, and the panic that ensues in your heart has you grabbing the door handle in a desperate bid to get out of the car and away from him. But of course, the door remains locked, and now you can really feel the cold terror and dread as it overtakes your body.

Steve exhales slowly, running a hand through his blonde hair, “Don’t. Lie.” He repeats, reaching over to forcibly grab your wrist. And his touch alone sense goosebumps up and down your arm. “I knew we had a connection from the moment I saw you. And then at the bowling alley on our date, I knew you felt it too.”

“Y-You mean our double date,” you say slowly, incredulity dripping from your tone, “where you were with your girlfriend and I was with my boyfriend.”

Steve shakes his head, his grip on your wrist tightening, “You were the only one I could focus on that night.” And then, as you watch in horror, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it as his eyes flutter shut, almost like he’s savouring kissing your skin for the first time. And you feel every cell in your body, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes, flutter as he does it. He locks eyes with you, “And I saw how you reacted that night when you opened my gift, that’s how I knew you liked me too.”

His gift? The terror in your veins seems to triple in less than a second, and you feel like you might throw up. You think back to all those bouquets of yellow roses with no name on the notes that accompanied them. And your favourite stuffed teddy with the coal black eyes and blue bow tie. No. No, it couldn’t be. And he’d watched you open them? How?

“N-No, those were from James!” You bat at him, trying to get him to let go of your hand. You suddenly can’t breathe, can’t think. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. “Those flowers were from James!”

“Sure.” Steve snorts, “Is that why you never even mentioned them to him? You knew deep down they weren’t from him, omega. You knew.”

“No, no, no–”

“And how could they be from him? He doesn’t understand you. Not like I do.” He tries to cup your cheek with his warm hand but you dodge him, shaken down to your very core by all the revelations hurtling towards you at top speed. Steve narrows his eyes at you for a second, before grabbing your hand again. “You think he doesn’t tell me everything, omega? You think I don’t know that you haven’t even let him fuck you yet?”

You feel you’ve just been doused with a bucket of ice-cold water, and all you can do is gape helplessly at Steve, any words you may have had on the tip of your tongue now firmly lodged in the back of your throat.

Steve smirks, “That’s right. He told me you haven’t let him fuck you, and it’s been what, three months since you guys started going out?”

“I wanted to wait till I was ready.” You whisper.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Steve laughs bitterly, “But you and I both know the truth, which is that you’ll never be ready. Not for him. Because you don’t want him to fuck you, you don’t want that intimacy with him.” He yanks you closer with the hold he has on your wrist, till your foreheads are almost touching and you’re frozen in place by not only your fear but something else too. Something warm and inviting.

“If you were my girlfriend, you’d already be three months pregnant.”

Your jaw drops open, only a tiny squeak making its way out past your lips. It’s as if he’s stolen all the air from your lungs, and all the thoughts from your brain. You feel hot all over, but also numb. You feel nothing yet everything all at once, and you can’t believe what he’s saying.

“But that’s okay, we still have plenty of time for that.” Steve nods determinedly, his eyes clouding over with an almost wistful, faraway look. “Baby, I have a plan for us. I’m graduating soon, and I want you by my side as the mother of my children. You’re perfect for me, and I’ll give you the family you crave.”

It’s like he’s lit a candle inside you. A tiny, almost minuscule candle of hope fuelled by the picture his words paint, but it flames fiercely nevertheless. Until you forcibly snuff it out and shake your head once more, and deliver more futile pushes to get him to let you go.

“Y-You’re crazy! I don’t want that, Steve! I don’t want any of that!”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes. You do.” Steve sneers, twisting your arm when you grow more desperate, your movements ceasing as you stare up at him helplessly. But his face remains stoic, and a wild piece of blonde hair flops down over his forehead. “I told you; Bucky tells me everything. How you never really fully open up to him, how you get closed off and distant and sad sometimes and he can’t figure out why because you never tell him.”

“Th-That’s between me and him–”

“Don’t you get it?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you as if he’s had an epiphany and wants you to have it too. “I’m the one who knows you, omega. Not him.” His hand reaches up to cup the wide of your face again, and this time he succeeds because you’re frozen in place. His voice softens, “I know you feel like your mother doesn’t care about you. I know you feel lonely despite being in a relationship with Bucky. I know you felt like this even in your previous relationship before Bucky. And I know you don’t have a dad, and I know it hurts–”

“No, no, no, no!” The tears are welling up in your eyes now, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Like you’re hyperventilating and there’s no escape and you can’t run away because this stupid car is locked and you’re in the middle of nowhere and you’ve never told anyone about your dad! You never talk about that with anyone. You don’t even think about it! How did he know?!

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Steve rubs his wrists over your face, and the tranquil effect of a hot midsummer afternoon warms you from the inside out. You feel your heartbeat go back to normal, and you’re able to breathe again. You look up to see Steve’s face inches away from yours, and all you can feel are the pads of his thumbs slowly stroking your cheekbones, and for the life of you, you can’t explain why you just let him do it.

“Do you ever get that yearning feeling, baby?” He asks you softly, so softly that you almost don’t hear it. His blue eyes sparkle with determination and earnesty, and he holds your face so carefully in his hands. “Tell me, do you ever get that feeling? Of wanting something so bad but you can’t seem to figure out what it is?”

“Yes.” You whisper hushedly, dropping your head in shame. Your heart throbs with the same guilt that you’ve been feeling for days now. Horrific, unforgiving guilt that washes through your body in taunting waves.

Steve kisses you then. And it feels like everything around you seems to stand still. Every particle, every atom, every hair, every speck of dust freezes in place. You close your eyes, and it’s like the sun itself descends down to the earth, making everything bask in its addicting glow. Fireworks and explosions behind your eyes and all around you, his warmth enveloping you like a hug. An embrace of delicious heat that feels like you’re home. Really home, and it’s something you’ve never felt before.

And then you start crying.

“I can’t do this to him.” You pull away, and the panic you feel is almost immediate. “Steve, I… We can’t do this to Bucky. He’s so good to me, he doesn’t deserve this! We can’t, we can’t–”

“He’ll understand.” Steve says firmly, keeping a tight hold on you. “It’ll be hard for him, but once he sees that we’re in love, he’ll understand. And it’s good for him too, because this way he can find a mate who is better suited for him.”

Through the haze of Steve’s smoky firewood and hot summer day scent, you think back to Bucky and his crinkled smile. How he’d been the first one to speak to you on your first day, how he’d walked you to the library and how at ease you’d felt with him. How his lopsided smile, sparkling eyes and effortless charm had reeled you in. All the nights spent cuddling or watching TV or just talking and talking and talking. How respectful he’d been of your boundaries; how sweet and patient and intuitive he’d been any time you felt uncomfortable or upset.

How he’d complimented you every chance he got, building up your self-esteem through his love and adoration. How his easy-going nature made you feel so comfortable… But yet not comfortable enough to let him in. And that’s when the guilt seems to attack every cell of your body, killing you from the inside out. Why? Why couldn’t you just let Bucky in? Why couldn’t you just love him? Why, why, why?

Why did it have to turn out this way?

“No.” You shake your head, trying to shake away the thick haze of Steve’s scent which seems to be corrupting your every sense. And when you next speak, your voice is firmer, and you wipe the tears from your face, and you sit up straight, and you shrug his hands off of you. “No, Steve. We can’t do this. I need to get out, I need to–”

Steve’s eyes narrow once more, “Omega, listen to me–”

“Let me out of this car! Just let me out, okay! I’m not doing this to him! You’re wrong, Steve! You’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I don’t like you like that!” You rattle the door handle desperately, but of course it doesn’t budge. “Let me out, Steve! I can’t think in here, I need to get out! I need to speak to Bucky, I need to… I need to…”

You feel yourself going lax in his arms, your limbs turning to jelly as he places his hand on your mating gland, fingers pressing down. It sends thrills and shivers up and down your body as he draws you back to him, closer and closer till he’s embracing you.

“I’m your alpha.” Steve whispers in your ear, and the possessiveness in his tone rocks you to your very core. “You’re my omega, all mine. It’s like you were made for me. And that’s all that matters.”

You’re about to protest once more, and then you feel his teeth graze against your mating gland. It feels peculiar, thrilling, dangerous all at the same time. But the threat of his action doesn’t register immediately, and it takes you a second too long to realise, and then–

“No, Steve, don’t! Don’t!”

A blood-curdling scream leaves your mouth. Steve’s teeth are sharp and unforgiving as they clamp down on your mating gland. And his bite if so painful, like he’s chipping and tearing away at any traces of autonomy left in your body. The sensitive skin of your neck breaks and tears along with the last remnants of your independence.

Everything stills around you. Everything but Steve. He’s all you can feel now. His heartbeat, loud and wild. Or is that your heartbeat? Everything feels different, nothing is the same. It’s all Steve. All of your senses are Steve. All of your feelings are Steve.

“I’m never gonna let you go.” Steve whispers against the fresh wound on your neck, licking at his handiwork which will soon turn into a mark that brands you as his forever.

His presence around you is infinite. The intense heat of his aura mixed with his addictive scent, hitting you from all angles like a tidal wave.

And, like a bittersweet film coming to an end, it washes away the memory of Bucky before you even have the chance to say goodbye.

SDKGKSLAG OKAY.

So.... did I just present y’all with a Steve x omega fic disguised as Bucky fic?? Despite hyping the Bucky fic for MONTHS? Well... *dodges tomatoes* Yes. Yes I did. I’M SORRY BUCKY GIRLIES. STOMEGA FOREVER. This was the plan from the start, because it doesn’t matter if Bucky asked for omega’s number first - she would always end up with Steve. In any AU. In every AU. ANYWAYS. GUYS. I hope you liked it and I hope you’re not mad! I really really really would love to know what yall thought! Like genuinely, I jsut NEED to know what you guys thought of this bc honestly... I am not so sure AHHHHH. okay i’ll shut up now. Bye.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan x reader

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bucksangel · 2 months

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favorite fics rec list

hello! i wanted to share some of my favorite fics to make sure everyone else is aware of these amazing fics and even more amazing writers. go send them some love!

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Ari Levinson

always keep my heart safe // @witchywithwhiskey (ceo!ari)

word count: 10.7k summary: you're ari levinson's "maid" and you're harboring a crush on your employer, which leads you to act foolish when you're alone with him on a long flight on his private plane. warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, established consent/safe words, employer/employee relationship with feelings, pre-discussed arrangement, free use, size kink (very brief moment of pain from it), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, tiny bit of overstimulation, check-ins, discussion of relationship & feelings, romantic confessions, possessiveness, dirty talk, pet names (sugar), aftercare

halloween princess // @evansbby (sugardaddy!ari)

word count: 3.8k summary: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween. warnings: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

praising you // @angrythingstarlight (lumberjack!ari)

summary: Ari loves to praise you, anytime, anywhere. warnings: praise kink, smut

Bucky Barnes

body workshop // @1800jjbarnes (mafia!bucky)

word count: 1.6k summary: Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry. warnings: Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) James wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.

new tricks by @sebstanwhore (virgin!bucky)

word count: 9.5k summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin. warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

for the first time // @jobean12-blog (shy!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: It's been a long time for Bucky and his feelings for you are overwhelming in every way so when it comes to your first time...he's so soft. warnings: cursing, softness, fluff, fingering, oral sex (m rec), smut

are you bored yet? // @pellucid-constellations (frat!bucky)

word count: 8k summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to. warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky

buttoned up // @disturbedbydesign (professor!bucky)

word count: 5.8K summary: Even though you were one of the top students in his class, Professor Barnes had always been cold to you. You had tolerated his indifference all semester, but when his end-of-term dinner party invites went out and you weren't on the list, you decided it was the last straw—it was time to confront him about it and find out what the hell his problem was. The answer would surprise you. warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids). 18+ only, no minors.

Steve Rogers

ever since i met you // @witchywithwhiskey (bestfriend!steve)

word count: 5k summary: your best friend takes you out for a valentine's day friend date that ends with the two of you cuddling in a hotel room—and discovering you've both been hiding feelings since the day you met. warnings: smut with lots of fluff, dry humping, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), valentine's day smut/fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions

Dark

Steve Rogers

paved with good intentions // @navybrat817 (avenger!steve)

word count: 2.8k summary: When Steve Rogers sees you get close to his best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. If he can’t be your hero, he’ll be your villain. warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements (do NOT read if this upsets you!), obsession, jealousy, hurt/comfort, Steve is not a good man in this fic.

Angst

Stucky

one more meeting // @myfictionaldreams (mafia!stucky)

word count: 5.6k summary: For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved. warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, murder, violence, blood, john walker has a temper, polyamory, dom/sub, threesome, subspace, pet names, sub reader, size difference, reader gets injured, daddy kink, sir kink, size kink, aftercare, praise kink, fluff, angst, vaginal sex, nipple play, cum play, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk

she's not mad // @subwaysurf45 (college!bucky)

Words: 9k Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn

Fluff

Bucky Barnes

wallpaper // @cosmicbucky (bestfriend!bucky)

word count: 1k summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers

mafia!bucky drabble // @angrythingstarlight (mafia!bucky bumblebee series)

summary: Bucky loves spending time with his daughter.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #stucky #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #stucky x reader #stucky x reader imagine #ari levinson #ari levinson imagine #fic rec masterlist #my masterlists #𓆩♡𓆪 angel's thoughts 𓆩♡𓆪

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slayingqueenchal · 9 months

Text

my favorite fanfics!

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

these are my favorite fanfics of all times from all of my favorite fandoms

If you (the writer) of one of these fanfics want me to delete your work from here go ahead and comment!

if one of these are copied by another writer please tell me and I'll credit the actual writer!

also, the following fandoms are : MARVEL, AVATAR (james cameron), HARRY POTTER, MARAUDERS

click here to see my favorite fanfics (I'll be making a separate one for Harry Potter/marauders and if you can't click this that means I'm still making it! )

this contains angst, fluff, smut!

Let me know if I tagged/do something wrong!

MARVEL :

◌ moonknight (steven,marc,jake)

come out (jake lockley) by @eyelessfaces | implied smut

drenched flowers (marc spector) by @eyelessfaces | angst

silence (steven grant) by @mknightgrant | angst

am I not what you wanted (marc,steven,jake) by @inpraizeof | very heavy angst

◌ this is just bucky barnes lol!

more by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine | overall my most favorite here, cause it consists fluff and angst and I'm a sucker for that!

marked by @jadedvibes | smutty smutt

Hooked on a feeling by @jobean12-blog | flufff

I like me better when I'm with you by @themorningsunshine | fluffflufffluff

Something to smile about by @jobean12-blog | fluff (also as a tlou fan reader gives off tlou 1 ellie vibes)

little lavender friend by @thepsychewrites | this is so good oh my gosh, also this is smut!

AVATAR :

◌ platonic tropes

every corner of this house is haunted by @avatarkv | gut wrenching angst.

the nightmare by @peacelovepandora | one shot of angst and a pint of fluff

◌ aonung

soft aonung!!! by @aonungspartner | ARGHHHH FLUFFY FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

punchable by @neteyamslovrr | flufffyyy

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic reccomendation

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camsthesadgirlnow · 2 years

Text

𖧷my purpose series

「 SUMMARY / you’re apart of James “bucky” barnes’ team to help him increase more voters for the expansion of his company. When you both are alone steamy things start to arise. He is married. Then why is it so hard to keep his hands to himself whenever he’s around you.

PAIRINGS / beefy!bucky x black!reader, mistress!reader, rich ceo!bucky, [scandal show plot] 🝮♥︎❧

WARNINGS / SMUTT, cheating, exhibition kink, cuteness, love, office sex, hot hot steamy chemistry, cum on body, bodily fluids, confident reader, sexy reader, fitz and Olivia storyline, pov changes, italic is your thoughts, derogatory words, swearing, daddy kink, cock worship, body worship, bj, pet names [bunny, pretty girl], submissive bucky?, eating out

𖧷❁my notes: thank you so much for choosing to read this series. I thought of it while watching scandal as it is based off the amazing show, scandal. You are Olivia in this situation and Bucky is fitz. disclaimer: bucky is not running for president or is president he is a rich ceo off his own electronics company that is expanding worldwide. I just changed some details. Thank you. love u guysss <3 ur fav vamp grll

spotify playlist ➪ created by me

✿ part one: here <3

| you and Bucky can’t keep your hands off each other

༻wrote on: may 11, 2022

✿ part two: here <3

| the story of how you and barnes met

༻wrote on: may 17, 2022

✿ part three: here <3

| bucky risks his reputation and goes out w you

༻wrote on: july 26, 2022

✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾

rafey master list <3 | little!reader master list

#black!reader #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine #bucky imagine #ceo!bucky #my purpose #camsthesadgirlnow #mypurposeseries #cams writing<3 #deftoneswh0re

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spectorsdove · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥

Smutt: * Angst: ^ Fluff: "

Shang Chi

Matt Murdock

Frank Castle

Billy Russo

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Loki Laufeyson

Wanda Maximoff

Steven Strange

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Right Person, Wrong Time *^

Ikaris

Kingo

Druig

Gilgamesh

#bellas masterlist

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pantherandtheseagod · 4 months

Text

#fanfiction #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #mcu namor #princess shuri #seaprincess

0 notes

mayfieldss · 3 years

Note

Hi there!!

I’m so sorry if this is super long and confusing but I had a dream like this and I’m so shit at writing but I would love for this to be a fic idea!

So the reader and Bucky are in a secret relationship.

His memories are highjacked (somehow) and the good memories have to fight bad ones and whichever ones win is how he’ll wake up.

The team/shield hook him up to a machine so they can watch the memories too and keep an eye on him and all the bad memories are of Hydra but the good ones are of Steve/Sam/Sarah and the kids and then of the reader laughing and maybe his POV of kissing her or having sex.

Reader is embarrassed since she is exposed and so is their relationship but everyone had a feeling he was is love with her and then he wakes up looking for her and it’s super fluffy and cute!

I really hope you love it as much as I do! 💕💕💕

- 🌻

Hi! I absolutely loved this idea and I tried my best to write it for you and do it justice. I know it's not the best and It might not be exactly what you had in mind but I tried. I'm sorry it took so long to write! 💕🌻

Memories - Bucky Barnes

Buckyxfemreader

Warnings: mentions of death, torture, implied sex

"Just let me in the damn door!" You punched at the guards chests trying to push past them. You just needed to get through that door and you would be with him. You knew he needed you and you wanted to know what happened. You needed answers and needed to know that Bucky was okay. He meant the world to you and the love you shared was stronger than any super serum could make it.

Not that anybody knew.

You had kept your relationship private, separate from everything and everyone else in your lives. The both of you had always thought people had so much control over the choices you made in your pasts, Bucky more so than anyone could ever say, and you didn't want anybody interfering in your relationship.

It had been a choice the both of you had made willingly, knowing the risks. It was something the both of you wanted and you didn't want anyone trying to change what you had together.

The guards refused to let you anywhere near the room claiming 'it's classified and dangerous inside'

"Just let me see him!" You threw a punch at the first guard, your fist colliding with his jaw, causing him to stumble backward. The second guard had no hesitation in pulling out his taser, holding it up for you to see as some kind of warning. "I need you to calm down Miss". You shook your head clenching your fists. You were willing to fight a whole army just to set foot in that room and you weren't planning on 'calming down' any time soon unless they let you in. You took a step forward and the guard tensed, the both of you ready to pounce.

"Hey she's with me". The voice of Sam alerted both you and the guard, taking your attention away from the intense encounter. Sam Wilson had been one of your greatest friends for years and as he placed a hand on your shoulder the guards moved aside. You didn't wait for Sam once the way was clear. You rushed forward and pushed the door open, practically throwing yourself inside.

The first thing you saw was Bucky. Strapped to a chair with wires attached to his head and body. He looked asleep though you knew it was more than that. The wires stretched out to pieces of technology, monitors and computers. Some measured his vitals and others held images almost like movies were playing on the screens.

"What the hell are you doing to him?" You shouted to no one in particular as heads turned toward you. People in suits, sheild uniforms and lab coats sat at different areas of the room, the variety of authority wild and mixed. "I'm sorry but you can not see the patient right now Miss" a women spoke from somewhere in the room and you turned to the voice to see her, clipboard in hand as she began to approach you. You balled your hands into fists again. "The patient? His name is James Buchanan Barnes and I will see him when I want to!".

The clipboard lady looked taken aback as though she had never had someone refuse her before and more workers, sheild agents and doctors alike began to move forward. You could feel Sams presence behind you and as he came up to your side you could see him wave the people back. The way they listened to him was remarkable. Your eyes rested on Bucky again as your anger turned to worry and fear. You took small yet fast paced steps toward him resting a hand on his arm.

"What happened to him?".

Nobody answered and an uncomfortable silence filled the room. You could feel every pair of eyes on you but still nobody spoke. "I said what happened!"

There was a sound, somebody clearing their throat and a voice came shortly after. "Hydra got to him".

You snapped your head toward the speaker "What?"

"We don't know how or who but they did something to his mind. His memories, they are in some kind of- war".

You couldn't speak and your eyes flicked to the screens showing images and videos "Are these-?"

"His memories, yes".

You were brought into silence again as you watched. The screens showed Steve and Bucky walking through the streets of Brooklyn, Bucky with an arm over Steve's shoulders. There were wide smiles on both of their faces and they were talking, voices not heard. The memories flicked from Sam holding the shield to Bucky playing with AJ and Cass. And then a simple memory of you. You were laughing a wide smile on your face. You couldn't remember what was so funny but as you watched you saw how happy you had been and for a moment forgot how bad the situation was. Then the screen flickered harsher, images flashing until the screens settled again on another memory. You covered your mouth with your hands as if that would hold back the wave of panic that consumed you. The screen showed Bucky tied down to a chair, the image through his eyes as he looked at his reflection in the metal door in front of him. Screams erupted from his mouth, agonizingly loud. The memory had sound this time and you wished it hadn't. The pain in his cries as his body convulsed, the reflection showing his head held between a metal contraption that dug into his skin. It seemed as though he was being electrocuted and you realized you were witnessing a punishment or experiment of Hydra that Bucky had had to endure. His screams seemed to echo through the room and you looked to Buckys body to see him shaking like he did when a nightmare would haunt his sleep. You remembered all those times you'd had to wake him from his sleep to stop his fear and a tear fell from your cheek as you realized you couldn't wake him from this. You felt your heart wrench in your chest, Sams arms wrapping around you, knowing without words how much it hurt for the both of you to see Bucky like this.

You usually tried to hide how much you cared for Bucky, the two of you only sharing the occasional smile or hand held under a table whilst others were around as to keep your relationship concealed. But this was too much to bare and you couldn't hide how much this scared you.

"Make it stop!" You didn't know what else to say. You were helpless, unable to fix the pain that Bucky was feeling. A few doctors eyed the monitors taking notes but none of them did anything to stop the memories, causing anger to rise in you again. How could they just sit and watch as a man writhed in pain right in front of them as if they were simply watching Netflix?

"What's happening?!" Buckys screams still hung in the air attempting to cover your voice and you wished the memory would change. The man who had spoken to you before stepped up, a solemn look taking over his features.

"Like I said, his memories are at war. The good memories are fighting the bad. From what we can figure, whichever memories are stronger- whichever memories win, will determine the person Mr. Barnes will be when he wakes".

"Who he will be?" You couldn't understand barley able to process the doctors words.

The doctor nodded "The winter solider or James Barnes".

Silence took over you again at his words. The screams stopped and you looked toward the screens hoping against all hope another one of Hydras memories would not appear. The memory had in fact changed and it took you a moment to focus on what was playing on the screen. It was the day you had first kissed Bucky.

As you watched the memory play out it looked so different through his eyes. Your face filled with heat as you remembered the others in the room watching this too and you looked to Buckys body to see he was no longer shaking. He looked peaceful and asleep once again but little did he know, your secret was out. "It wasn't a surprise" Sams voice whispered in your ear calming your nerves slightly as everyone in the room eyed you. The screen flickered again and a different kind of panic rose in you. Embarrassment covering every inch of your being as another memory played. A memory of you and Bucky in bed. It had been a beautiful night, one of your favorites together and obviously one of Buckys too. It was personal and full of pleasure and it was now being broadcast for everyone in the room to see. Including Sam. It was heartwarming to think that these memories of you were important to Bucky but you winced at the fact your life behind closed doors was currently being displayed in front shield. They would probably save this data too. Your body was on almost every screen and monitor, and you cursed Buckys memories and point of veiw of that night for making sure every part of you was shown and seen. Soon the screen flickered and you hated yourself for feeling a small ounce of relief as another one of Buckys memories from Hydra began to play. This one was brutal. Images of the Winter solider murdering men and women. You could hardly look as Buckys body shook again, covered in sweat. All your embarrassment was lost as his face contorted in fear. That memory played for awhile, bloodshed filling the monitors. The longer the memory played the more worried you became that Bucky would be lost to the Winter solider when he awoke. You thought this would be the final memory to play and you braced yourself for the reality that would be. Then the memory changed.

It was of your face. An image through Buckys eyes. You looked beautiful, almost like an angel and as you began to recall what memory it was, you remembered you had never looked like that. You'd been a mess that day in one of Buckys tshirts and sweats. It occurred to you then as you watched the screens that this was how he saw you. Every memory of you that had been shown, whether you were battered and brusied, naked, all your flaws exposed or had tears streaming down your face, you had looked beautiful nomatter what. Your heart ached for him more then than it ever had before.

The monitors went black causing panic to course through your veins and a loud gasp came from where Bucky was stationed. You turned your head to see Bucky awake and tugging at the wires connected to him, ripping them off. Doctors and agents ran forward, some with guns raised, unsure whether it was in fact Bucky or the winter solider. You knew who it was. The eyes gave it away. He was your Bucky and nothing more.

"Where is she?" Bucky voice rang out through the room.

"Mr. Barnes-" someone started though they never finished.

"No, no, no where is she? Where is she?"

"Who Mr. Barnes?"

"Y/n y/l/n. where is she?".

The doctors were moving aside and at first you thought it was of their own accord until you saw Bucky forcing his way through them. When you locked eyes it was like the whole world stopped and you could feel the rush of tears falling fast down your cheeks as Bucky moved toward you. Once close enough he pressed a kiss to your lips in an instant, pulling you close. He didn't care that there were people around. He just did it, needing you and your comfort more than anything in that moment. You could taste the salt of tears on your lips as you pulled away unsure whether they were yours or Buckys. You let out a small sob as his eyes met yours again. "I'm so glad you're okay".

Bucky just nodded hugging you tight before looking around.

"I guess our secret's out".

You laughed softly turning his head back to face you "you have no idea".

AN: I really hope I did okay with this 🌻

TAGLIST: @characters-deserve-better @posteyymaloney @agentsofsheilds @ladyfallonavenger @buckys2thicc

TAGS:

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jpat82 · 6 years

Text

Order Of The Midnight Sun

Normally I wait a bit to post a second chapter, but I’ve been loving on this one.

CHAPTER 2

Adult content

We lived in the old factory, away from the city and the people, away from others like ourselves. It was our oasis, time for the three us to be together with out worrying if someone was coming to get their revenge. It's not the brightest idea to try and take an executioner out, but it's been known to happen.

I let the water work it's wonder on my tired body, the stream beneath me turning a reddish tint as the blood came off of me. I ran my face under the hot water, scrubbing my hands against my cheeks. I hated the feel of blood on my face, to be honest I hate having anybody else's blood on me.

A hand sliding across my hip indicated that one of my boys was refusing to listen, again. His hand sneaked around to the front of my body, palm flat on my stomach. His warm breath on my shoulder, as his naked front was pressed against my back. I could feel his erection pressing into the small of my back as his lips brushed against the side of my neck.

"Steve." I breathed without looking as he slid his hand down. I knew my boys, Steve was almost always gentle, always taking care not to hurt me. Bucky, true to his executioner ways, was almost always rough, leaving me sore for days afterward.

His finger slid between my folds, tenderly rolling circles across my sensitive little nub. My breath hitched, as I leaned my head back on his shoulder. His lips greeted my cheek, I turned my head allowing him access to my mouth. His finger continued to roll lazily over my clit, extracting a whimper from me.

He dipped his fingers into me as he chuckled softly into mouth. He broke the kiss, his eyes locking with mine, as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of my body. I could feel my legs begin to shake as his pace began to speed up. He wrapped his other arm around my waist to support my body weight, I snaked my arm up hooking my hand at the base of his neck.

"God damn, I love see the two of you like that." Bucky said from the open door way, he leaned against the metal beam, completely naked.

"You could join." Steve told him as I felt myself begin to building up, I whimpered looking over at the man that made us complete.

Bucky eyed Steve's hand as he continued to fuck me with his fingers, water cascading down our bodies. Bucky had one hand wrapped around his cock, slowing sliding his fist from the head to the base of his shaft.

"Oh, I plan on it, first I wanna watch you make her a complete mess." Bucky replied, slowly pumping himself. Steve slowly picked up his pace, hooking his fingers as he did, stroking that sweet spot inside me.

"Fuck." I breathed, my hips grinding into Steve's hand, unable to stop themselves.

"You heard him, baby, he wants to see you cum." Steve whispered in my ear, pushing me closer to the edge.

With Steve's free arm was wrapped around my torso holding me up, his fingers buried deep inside me my legs tried to buckle. I whimpered, knowing I was so close. I reached out toward Bucky, I needed him.

Bucky released his cock and walked over toward us, his eyes dark with lust. He didn't hesitate as he stepped under the spray of the shower, his lips capturing mine the minute he reached us. I moaned into his mouth enjoying being between my boys.

"Steve, take her." Bucky growled as he broke the kiss. Bucky grabbed my wrists, pulling at me till I was faced towards a metal wall. Steve grabbed my hips and pulled them back, bending me forward a bit.

I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance before he slid himself in. I gasped at the suddenly fullness between my legs as he rolled his hips into me. Bucky slid under my body, looking up at me as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard, sending a wave of heat straight to my core.

"Fuck, Buck, you have to show me that." Steve moaned, reaching up grabbing a fist full of my hair. "She clenches so damn hard every time."

Bucky's mouth was still wrapped around the tender bud, he winked at me before taking another hard suck. I cried out at the sensation, I could feel my wetness drip down my legs, as Steve slowly pumped his cock into me. Bucky finely released my nipple before moving his body around my hips, wedging himself in the there.

I closed my eyes as Steve was starting to pick up his pace, he pulled tightly on my hair, pulling my head back as he did. Even though I knew it was coming, when Bucky's tongue flicked across my overly sensitive clit I still gasped out. His tongue alternate between quick flicks and hard long licks, driving me to my edge.

I was panting, when I heard Steve moan from behind me. I looked down and could see Bucky was not only licking my clit driving me to my peak but his tongue was lapping up any juices on Steve's cock as he thrusted into me. I watch him as he held his cock in his hand pumping himself hard, he was after the same release we were.

I closed eyes as I felt my core begin to tighten up, Steve was pounding into me at hard and steady pace. I hadn't even realized Bucky had moved till I felt Steve's motions stop and his body tighten up. I knew what was happening, Bucky was taking him. It only happened when the three of us were like this, Bucky's wilder side would come out.

Suddenly Steve drove into me harder then before, his whimpers could be heard over the steady stream over the shower. My legs began to shake as the two of them buck hard. When my orgasm hit my legs buckled, Steve catching me around my waist as I felt him empty himself inside of me.

I could hear Bucky growl as he rode his high out in Steve.

"Fuck man, a little more warning next time." Steve panted, sliding out of me.

"Sorry, I couldn't control myself." The other man breathed.

"Boys, I distinctly remember saying I was taking a shower alone." I stated through pants standing straight up.

"You did." Bucky smirked from behind the fair haired man. "We let you shower alone and then we came in to fuck your brains out."

"That's not what I meant." I shook my head at them wrapping my arms over each of their shoulders still unsteady on my feet.

"Hey, it was golden boys idea." Bucky quipped back, his mouth meeting mine.

"It sounded good." Steve added, I released Bucky's lips to take him as well.

"Boys, what am I going to do with you?" I asked, looking at them. Bucky leaned over taking Steve's lips in his.

"Love us?" Bucky stated once he broke their kiss.

"I already do." I smiled to myself.

@kitkatkl @octobermermaid @ajosieface @10robins

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes smutt #hitman!bucky #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers #steve roger smutt #steve x bucky x ofc #hitman!steve #orderofthemidnightsun

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writersblog20 · 2 years

Text

The YouTuber and the actor

Sebastian Stan x reader

Summary: You did commentaries about movies on Youtube for fun, not knowing that some populaire people were watching those videos. And one DM on Instagram after the other landed you on a date. After an interview with James Corden, and the heated tension between the two of you, it was time to blow off some steam

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, praising, deepthroat etc etc, like just smut, accidental creampie and cockwarming.

Words: 4.2

A/N: I mean no disrespect towards Seb as this is just a work of fiction

You were recording a YouTube commentary on a movie. You did this a lot and you had a good amount of followers. Not a crazy amount but it wasn’t bad either. You didn’t get recognized which was perfect for you and when someone did come up to you, it meant the world. Your ‘fans’ were more like friends to you. You had loyal followers and it was your only source of serotonin at this point.

Every time you made a video, it felt like you just had a sleepover with your good friends. It kept your mind off of things and people left very nice comments that gave you more motivation of making them. Anyways, drifting off here. You had a good amount of videos up on your channel.

You reacted to series as well like: Euphoria, You, Hauntings of and stuff like that. You also did commentary about horror movies, marvel, and the lesser known movies. Your followers also made a lot of requests of your next party watch. This was the only thing that you had so much fun in making as well as editing. It was kind of like your own form of escapism.

Anyhow, you were currently chilling on your couch in your comfy apartment. You put the neon led lights on, your salt lamp, candles, put some incense on and was in the middle of recording another movie reaction when your phone went crazy.

You took a look what all the fuzz was about. Your followers knew that you adored Sebastian Stan. The notifications came mostly from your followers saying: “Girl, are you still alive?”, “Oh my god, miss thing got deceased.”, “How does it feel like living my dream?” you frowned, not understanding what they were talking about. You saw a couple of comments underneath those with: “What’s going on?” you saw that they responded to her: “Sebastian Stan just said in an interview with Graham Norton that he watches all her vids.”

You were gob smacked and couldn’t really comprehend what was going on. They gave the link and you quickly pressed on it. The video was posted like 5 minutes ago and was a snippet from the interview.

Your camera was still rolling, recording your reaction. You looked up and opened the link on your computer so you were completely recording your reaction, which was mostly just stares at this point. You watched the video and Graham asked everyone what there favorite thing to do in their spare time was.

Henry Cavill talked about Warhammer and his hobby’s and after came Chris Evans with how he loved spending time with Dodger and then Sebastian Stan came. “There is this girl, and she is super funny. She makes YouTube commentaries about movies. I found her actually through Chris. He had sent me a video where she was reacting to one of my movies called: Monday and I have never laughed so much at a YouTube video. Ever since I’ve been watching her videos. It helps me relax and laugh after a tough day.”

“I actually watch her videos too. She’s very funny indeed.” Henry chirped in. Chris chuckled “Yeah me too.”

Graham was now laughing very hard. “Okay, okay, seems that everyone likes her but now I’m curious. Who is she?”

They all shared glances. “Her name is Y/N, Y/L/N. She’s amazing, you should check her out if you’re interested.” Sebastian said with a shy smile, which Graham noticed as well.

“Oeh, looks like someone has a cruhusss.” Graham teased and you could see Sebastian blush and had an embarrassed smile on his face. After that the clip ended.

You looked up at the camera in awe, your mouth agape. “Holy shit…… ehm well… Seabas, if you’re seeing this hit me up, I mean, I’m single.” you playfully winked and laughed, also feeling very flustered. “No but serious…. This is amazing, holy shit. I mean, Sebastian watches my videos, Henry AND Chris?!?! There is no way. I refuse to believe it. But I do though, don’t give me hope, dear lord.” Your energy was so chaotic right now it was unbelievable.

You fangirled so hard on screen and tried to finish the last episode of the series you were currently filming. You edited the video and posted it. You saw that you got a massive following, probably because of the interview they gave.

You squealed in happiness and did a little dance around the room. You had to ground yourself again because you were full of energy and excitement and knew you wouldn’t be able to get some sleep if you kept going like this.

You watched your comfort show and it calmed you down just a little bit until you opened your Instagram and saw that not only Chris Evans, Henry Cavill but also Sebastian Stan had followed you. You squealed again and saw that he sent you a dm. Your eyes went big and opened the text. “I normally don’t do this but I saw your last video, which was funny as always, and thought why not? So, Hi? hahahah”

You chuckled and couldn’t wipe the smile away from your face. You let your body fall on the bed and laid on your side, immediately typing a responds. “Hiiii, I can’t believe this. But I’m so glad that you watch my videos and enjoy it!” you sent the text back and you saw that he had immediately seen it. “Oh absolutely! I loved your commentary about my movie! I’ve never laughed so much and enjoyed it incredibly.”

You smiled and texted back and forth for almost the entire night, talking about movies and series. “Hey, might be a little fast but I really, really enjoy talking to you. Want to go out for coffee tomorrow?” he asked and you smiled brightly, holding your phone to your chest in happiness.

“I would love to! When and where?” you asked him. “Well you can choose, I want you to feel comfortable and safe.” He’s so respectful god. You gave him a location and a time. He gave you his phone number and wished each other a good night before ending the conversation so you could still both get some sleep.

Both couldn’t sleep since you were way too excited to meet each other.

When finally did get some sleep, it wasn’t for long before your alarm went off. You groaned and tossed and turned around, mad that you couldn’t sleep any longer, but then you remembered why. A smile crept up your face and you jumped up from the bed and got into the shower.

You put on a cute but comfortable outfit and walked to the coffeeshop you had agreed on. You were a little early but liked it that way. You opened the door and already saw Sebastian. He was looked around, seeming a little nervous. Once your eyes met each other, a smile crept on both of your faces.

You walked up to him and gave him a hug. “seems like we’re both like to be early.” You chuckled and he smiled shyly as he went with a hand through his soft, semi long hair. You sat down and ordered your drink.

It was an amazing date. You were a little scared that it would be awkward when you would meet each other in person but that was far from the truth. At first you were both a little distant and awaiting the other but when the conversation started flowing, it was amazing.

You went from one topic right into the other. Funny stories, more serious topics and casual topics. Never had you ever clicked with someone this fast and you knew that this was a very rare connection.

The date was a couple of months ago and many had followed soon. It felt like you had met your best friend and soulmate. Just perfect for each other. You’ve never asked him to be in one of your videos but your following grew a lot. Sebastian knew why you hadn’t asked him to be in one of your videos since you had told him that. You felt weird about it to be honest. You knew many had came from the interview but when the paparazzi had photographed the two of you, it skyrocket.

You did it because you liked it but it was double because you felt weird about all the attention. You just couldn’t believe that 2 million people were watching your videos. It felt just weird. The nice comments were really what kept you going.

You and Sebastian had never kissed or had sex yet and that was fine, but obviously you were yearning for him. The crush you had grew fast in love. You adored Sebastian and he adored you but you both wanted to take things slow because you were so in to each other, not rushing anything.

You were a lot together though, almost inseparable. When he would come over or the other way around, you did sleep together in one bed but nothing had ever happened except the growing tension between the two of you and cuddles.

Sebastian had an interview for is new movie Fresh that was coming out. He was at the late late show and you knew James Corden always teased Sebastian.

“So Sebastian, last time we saw you, you were flirting with Sharon Stone…..” Sebastian became flustered and you could see him blush. You chuckled as you saw him trying to cover up his face with his hands. “But recently we’ve seen you a lot with Y/N Y/L/N…. Is there something between the two of you?” you could see him shift uncomfortably on the couch and you were quite surprised yourself, sitting more forward towards the tv.

“I eh…. She’s amazing and we’ve been hanging out a lot lately.” James pulled a face for him to continue, with a smirk and one eyebrow up. “Yes….. But are you a couple?” Sebastian couldn’t hide his smile as the thought of you came in his mind, telling the audience enough. He grew red again and you could see that he felt flustered.

“Well, we’ve been dating, yes but we haven’t talked about that yet…. I do like her a lot.” Sebastian tried. James just got a cheeky smile and decided to drop it for now. You couldn’t suppress your own smile creeping upon your face.

You went back to reacting to a tv show that you were previously recording. When you wrapped up you heard a knock on your door. You frowned as you weren’t expecting anyone. You walked towards the door and opened it, seeing Sebastian in black sweatpants, a hoodie and a coat with a brown bag and flowers standing in front of you.

Your heart was making leaps now. It should be illegal for men to wear sweatpants because it just made you weak to your knees. He looked so soft and cuddlable. He smiled shyly at you, which you returned and let him into your apartment.

He gave you the flowers and you hugged him tightly. It caught him a little of guard. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you too. His head rested against yours. “Did you see it?” he asked softly. “Of course” you told him sweetly. You could tell he was nervous. “I ehm would you like to be my girlfriend? Because I’m falling hard for you.” he laughed nervously.

You got the biggest smile and pulled out of the hug “I would love that Seba. I really like you too.” He got the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him. He cupped your cheek with his hands, looking intense into your eyes. His grin disappeared as you both got into a trance. He softly licked his lips and came closer, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to.

You placed your lips on his. His lips felt soft and gentle. You put your arms around his neck and he put his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You started moving in the kiss and you could feel his tongue against yours, releasing all the butterflies and excitement in your stomach.

After you broke away from the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours with a bright, intoxicating smile. “Want to watch a movie? I brought snacks.” You chuckled at his question and nodded. He peppered your face with kisses, making you chuckle and giggle. God the feeling this man gave you was astronomical.

You were currently chilling on the couch. Sebastian laid on top of you, his head on your chest while you played with his hair. Your nails softly through his hair, combing it back. His arms resting loosely around you. He smelled so good as well and his lazy, comfort clothes weren’t helping with the strings on your heart.

He shifted a little and well, let’s not lie here, you were wet. You wanted him so bad but you felt too shy to take the first step. What you didn’t notice was that you’re body was reacting on its own, shifting underneath him and a soft whimper fell from your lips. You coughed in hopes he wasn’t aware of the fact how horny you were but he was and he was too.

His groin got hard at your movements. You shifted from his hair to his back. Your nails teasing his back. You could feel that Sebastian got a little tense. He clenched his jaw, what you could feel on your chest.

You both started to breath more rapid than before. You shifted once more, knowing you were fully soaked. He looked up at you, his pupils blown. He got a little off of you, holding himself up with his arms as he hovered over you, making your breathing become even more rapid and your heartbeat go up.

He attached his lips on yours in a matter of seconds, indulging you in a heated and passionate kiss as he grabbed your chin. His hand wondering over your body and he felt you tense up, making him back away. “I’m sorry…. I thought…” he felt embarrassed but you quickly grabbed his face, making him look at you “You thought right.” You told him shy. He got a grin/smirk on his face and came closer to your face but not yet placing his lips on yours yet. “Tell me if you want to stop, or don’t like something” You nodded and he chuckled a little as you pulled your body a little of the couch so you had contact with his body again and started to grind on him a little.

He looked down at your body with a grin and then back into your eyes. He placed his lips on your again and his hand started to go downward. His hand disappeared in your sweatpants and underneath your lingerie. You let out a whimper and he smiled as he carefully got your lip between his teeth, before crashing into the kiss again.

He found your clit fast and started to finger you. He moaned in reaction of your wetness. “You’ve been looking forward to this, haven’t you?” you nodded and whimpered in response again.

You brought your hips up to get more fraction. He chuckled as he let you grind against his hand.

You brought your hips up to get more fraction. He chuckled as he let you grind against his hand. He added a finger in and started to pump in and out of you. You grabbed onto his shoulders, already feeling close as he worked his magic with his fingers.

When he found your clit again, you started to pant. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered. He smiled at you “I’m not going to stop, don’t worry I won’t stop.” He said to you as you moaned when his lips got attached to your neck.

Your legs started to shake and soon your whole body followed with immense pleasure as you released your orgasm. Sebastian smiled as he held your face between his palms and kissed you with lust. He put his finger in his mouth, licking off your juices as he remained eye contact. You felt yourself growing wet again just by his actions.

You got up as Sebastian backed away. His back resting against the couch. You could see his groin through his sweatpants. You grabbed his hands and he was awaiting your actions as he followed you to your bedroom.

You got his hoodie off of him and his shirt. You went with your cold hands over his toned chest. He shivered a little at the touch of your cold hands. He got your hoodie off as well, leaving you in your bra. You quickly shimmered your way out of your pants and pushed him on your bed.

He prepped himself up on his elbows. This time you hovered over him and kissed him deeply before going to his neck, his chest, slowly and teasingly making your way down as you undid his pants, remaining eye contact.

He pushed his hips up so you could take his pants and boxers off, his cock jumping out. Sebastian had a grin on his face. You took his cock between your hands and started to pump him before taking him in his mouth. Sebastian let his head fall on your bed with a groan as you tried to take him in, making you gag slightly.

You worked him and all of a sudden he got you up from his cock. You looked surprised at him, thinking that maybe he didn’t like it. “Baby, if you keep doing that, I’ll cum in no time” he told you, making you smile.

His hand was softly wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer so he could kiss you. He looked into your eyes deeply before his lips met yours in a passionate, lustful kiss. “Come sit on my face baby girl.” You felt flustered and you could feel your cheeks heat up. You’ve never sat on someone’s face before.

Sebastian gave you a reassuring smile “It’s okay baby. Trust me.” you nodded and climbed your way up. You made eye contact with Sebastian but you weren’t sitting yet. He wrapped his arms around your legs and waist and pulled you down on his face. He was eating you out like a hungry man, making you moan loudly. No man had ever made you feel this good. You knew you were going to cum in no time. “You taste so good baby girl”

“Seb, I’m close.” You said between breaths. He groaned against your pussy and you could feel his warm breath as you got closer to your second orgasm. “Cum for me princess.” He said between licks. “You’re so beautiful, you’re doing so good for me.” the praising was what god you over the edge and you started to grind on his face.

You let your head fall back and you supported your body with your hands on his chest, behind you. Sebastian grabbed your breast in his hand, teasing your hard nipple as your whole body shook in ecstasy as he stroked himself with his other hand. He licked up all your juices, making you shake more.

He helped you get off and kissed you passionately, while you tasted yourself on his lips. “You make me so hard when you’re above me.” You moaned in his mouth as a response.

You laid on your back and Sebastian hovered over you again. He took your nipple in his mouth and you pushed your hips back up. “Seb, I need you.” he smirked. “Tell me exactly what you need baby girl.” You whined “I need to feel you, I want you inside of me.” you whimpered.

He smirked as he placed his cock by your slit, rubbing on it, once again making you buckle your hips. Sebastian scanned your face again before entering you, filling you up and making you both moan. Your pussy had almost a death grip on his cock and he moaned in your ear as his cock stretched you out. “You feel so good baby.”

He slowly started to move and you held his face between your soft palms so you could pull him closer for a passionate kiss. “faster, please” you whined and he did as you asked. He started to pound into you, kissing you in the process. His hand was around your neck, not hard enough to hurt you. You moaned as he slowly tightened his hand around your throat.

He got out of you and you whimpered at the lost and empty feeling inside of you. “Lay on your stomach, beautiful.” You got on your stomach in no time. “What do you want baby?” Sebastian asked as he was teasing you at your entrance with his cock. “I want you to fuck me daddy.” It came out automatically and your eyes grew wide. You couldn’t see him so you couldn’t see his reaction either. It was quiet behind you and nothing happened, making you grow anxious.

“I’m sor….” He cut you off “You want daddy to fuck you yeah?” You mewed in response. “daddy’s got you, don’t worry princess. Gonna make sure your brains are fucked out by the end okay princess?” you whimpered and he entered you, dicking you down on the bed as he pushed your body in the mattress and gave your ass a couple of smacks.

He pounded you, hitting your spot every time and you felt yourself grow closer. “I’m gonna cum daddy.” You could practically hear him smirk. “Cum for me baby girl, cum for daddy.” You shook as you held your blankets in your hand.

You heard Sebastian moan, as you were tightening around him. He got out of you and sat on the bed. “Come ride me baby.” you quickly climbed into his lap, his back resting against your headboard. You took his cock in your hands and got him in as you lowered yourself, both moaning in reaction. Sebastian leaned forward and placed his arms around you, hiding his head in your neck, placing wet kisses there as you started to move.

He leaned back a little, his hands on your waist as he helped you with the pace while he looked intensely at you. “You’re so beautiful.” You placed your lips against his, instead of lustful it turned passionate and loving.

He placed you on your back again and entered you while his hand went over every inch of your body. He slowly started to move as it got more passionate and sensual. You moaned in reaction and he quickly put his lips on yours, muffling the sounds.

“I’m going to cum soon baby.” he told you out of breath. You could only nod in reaction as you were chasing your own orgasm once again, which came quicker than expected. As you clenched around him, he was unable to pull out and came into you. he looked shocked at you and once you got your breath and vision back you smiled. “It’s okay, don’t worry.” He let out a breath from relief and tried to catch his breath as well, placing his lips on yours. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Sebastian collapsed on your chest, both tired as you lazily made out, Sebastian pulling your face a little to the side where he laid, legs entangled. You accidentally clenched and you could hear him groin in response. He carefully got out of you, making you whimper at the lost. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” He told you softly as he nuzzled your nose. You smiled in response “I really like you Seba.” He kissed you more passionate “I really like you too sweetheart.” Once you both came down you decided to take a shower together.

After the shower you both climbed back into bed naked. “Seb? Can you maybe… stay inside of me?” you asked him shyly as you wanted him closer than before. He looked surprised at first but got a smile on his face “Of course baby.” he pumped his cock a little more and his finger found your slit again, already wet at his touch. He smirked but decided to say nothing. Once he was hard he got into you, making you both moan in unison again.

Your leg was over his and you got closer against his chest. “Better?” he asked softly and you nodded, starting to feel tired. “Close your eyes sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. Get some rest.” he encouraged you, which helped as you closed your eyes, feeling utterly exhausted.

Sebastian softly played with your hair and made sure you were fast asleep, before closing his own eyes in a peaceful sleep. Feeling happier than ever.

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cherryblossomtease · 2 years

Text

Pleasures Remain, so Does the Pain

Chapter 22

chapter specific warnings - 18+ only - m/f heavy sub/dom lifestyle, spanking, punishing, punishment description, m/m/f-bound and gagged but so very loved— as always.

warnings and summary - masterlist

6 Months Later

The wall is starting to blur, your knees are buckling, and your ass cheeks are still burning.

The bedroom tv is loud in your ear, and for some reason, that makes every second so much worse.

It's early, too early to be punished like this but good luck telling him that. You want to ask how much longer he wants you to stand here, but if you do, you'll only add to your time spent being punished, and he's in a mood this morning. Not that your rebellious pussy seems to mind.

Fuck, you want to touch yourself so bad, and he knows it, which is precisely why you're not allowed. You shift your weight from one bare foot to the other, sniffle, and give a frustrated little huff.

He's got you in the corner with your t-shirt —his actually— up and over your ass so that he can see not only how red you are from the belt, but to watch you suffer while you stand in the corner like the disobedient sub that you are, not allowed touch yourself even when that's all you want. Well, not all, but it would be nice. Then maybe you could get on with your day.

Slowly exhaling against the solid wall, you're thankful the only sheer curtains open are the ones along the same wall you stand in front of, or else you're sure the neighbors across the way would be able to see in. You're pretty sure they've already been given more than one explicit show since you and Zemo moved in. If the way the man from the pink villa looks at you when you cross paths out in the street is any indication, he must sit by his window waiting for the next performance.

You have to wonder whose idea it was to build in this stacked, ascending fashion. Damn the hilly landscape you huff again thinking of the pretty buildings that sprout up from the trees like pastel pieces of the rainbow. Although you're pretty sure whoever settled here, however many centuries ago, had no idea it would stand long enough to have the likes of you and Baron Zemo to contend with.

Oh well, you're thankful for this space; even if it's a bit voyeuristic and your bedroom isn't the largest, it's beautiful and light and dreamy. When it's not the place of your torment, it is a wonderful home made up of stunning views, old-world wood beams and floors, with creamy plaster walls that keep your —noise—quiet. The modern steel-framed windows that reach floor to ceiling are softened by those sheer curtains, and the large bed with its fluffy white pillows and blankets and a thick rug underneath make getting up in the morning almost as easy as going to bed at night.

Typically you share this little dreamscape with Zemo and the dogs, but because of your latest behavior, the animals have been temporarily locked out, and you've been relegated to your current spot. It's one of his favorite punishments, and coincidently, the worst time you'd been placed here also had to do with your pets. It was when you brought home Ada, the newest addition to your little family.

You'd spotted her outside the flower shop by the water on a Sunday morning. She was in a pen with some other puppies and a sign listing them for sale. The florist trying to get rid of them told you they were some sort of mastiff mix, and she'd gladly take half price for the one you'd chosen. It was like the universe had practically handed Lou's sister to you in a basket. You carried the blue-eyed puppy home and suffered the consequences of Zemo's skilled belt-work with a smile on your face and stood in the corner with your cheeks blazing worse than even now. It had been worth all ten strikes. Yes, a full ten (he hadn't been all that mad) and you'd been wearing Prada that day, so you focused on her name instead of the pain until he fucked you. You smile now, thinking of the look on his face when you'd turned around —come still dripping down your thighs— and said, "What about Ada, you know drop the p and r so as not to be too clever.” You’d said with a wink. Zemo grabbed his belt and added another five.

Only the credit card statement this morning had brought him close to that session.

It wasn't that you were being careless; you did all of your shopping as you'd been shown and used the cards he gave you to keep your location and identities hidden. You'd never do anything to endanger him or Oeznik and Petra, not to mention as a daughter of Madripoor; you're as good at living under the radar as Zemo. The problem comes along when you spend thousands on two dogs that your boyfriend claims he doesn't even want.

“All right, come back to bed." Zemo mumbles.

You wilt against the wall feeling your shoulders slump, and pull the shirt down as you turn your head to look back at him leaned against the pillows. He's holding the remote, frowning at the tv.

Zemo's gaze fixes on you, but he doesn't move. "Anything to say?" He asks, and you hate when he looks this good after making you so frustrated. It's probably the beard he's grown since arriving here— all thick and so dark it's nearly black— he hasn't cut his hair in a while either, and honestly, you thought he looked good before, now you can hardly stand the sight of him he's so stunning.

"Not really," You answer, pushing up to come towards him.

He shakes his head a little like he's disappointed you won't even try. "Fifteen hundred euros on toys and what else I can't imagine."

"New bowls, a shirt for Ada…." You start as you close in and cross your arms, standing beside the bed. "Let's see…oh! I got that monthly food subscription for them both, the premium one, because I wanted them to have real meat and everything. Hmm? The new brushes were like two hundred each." You go on looking up to remember everything.

"Stop, before I take it off again." He says, and you look down at the buckle of his belt feeling multiple reactions; a quiver, a tingle, a tickle, a spark. God, this man and the things he can do to you…

"Why are you dressed so early?" You ask, reaching to run your fingertips over the metal and leather at his waist. He's got on a more formal look than usual for a trip to the village center; an off white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and his forearms are more distracting than the sight of the belt. His shirt is unbuttoned enough that you catch a glimpse of chest hair and a peek of chain. His black pants are hiked a little higher to be comfortable while he sits in bed, and you can see that the sight of you standing in the corner left a lasting impression on him, judging by the size of that outline.

"I have business in town." He says, watching the tv for another second. He's got the news on and is a little distracted, but only a little.

"Oh, can I come with you?" You ask, dragging your gaze from the impressive and familiar print to the right of his zipper and up to his face. You smile anticipating that what you're going to say will either set him off or make him laugh. "I really want to get my nails done today."

Zemo's eyes go wide. It's like he was busy daydreaming about you, while simultaneously planning his day, only to have you burst his thought bubble. "After all this, you still want to keep spending!"

You snicker but quickly push your finger to your nose to stop. "Oh my god Helmut what year is this! What sort of, nineteen fifties patriarchal dystopia have I been trapped in?" You taunt.

His eyes narrow, he rocks his jaw under the thick beard, and you watch him toy with his dominant anger, but he can't, and his eyes flicker with a hint of amusement. "The one you signed up for." He says, reaching for your hand. "Yes, of course, you can come." He says as if he would ever consider saying no. "But, there is some business here I think I need to see to first," He says, tossing the remote aside.

Zemo brings his legs down over the edge of the bed.

You are utterly submissive in his hands as he puts one arm around your waist and reaches under your t-shirt with the other. "Oh, you've been wet for a while. I can tell," He says, glancing up then back down, tilting his head to peek under the shirt, his long moan matching the length of his first few strokes along your slippery divide.

You feel a wash of relief from all that waiting as you grab hold of his arms and smile and shrug as though it's no big thing.

"Say you're sorry." He demands softly, scooting closer, raising his chin, bringing his face very close to yours.

"I'm sorry," You say, rolling your eyes but losing all attitude when he parts you and slides a finger inside, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning.

"What was that?" His ears must be deceiving him.

"I'm sorry— Baron."

"What are you sorry for?" He asks, rotating his wrist as he starts to gently fuck you with one finger and then two.

"I'm sorry" You pause to moan, licking your lips and gripping his shirt. "That I spent fifteen hundred euros on the dogs. I won't do it again." You gasp in his face letting your legs open a little wider.

"No, you won't. Or you won't sit for a week" He smiles up at you and reaches down with the hand around your back to squeeze your sore ass cheek, making you whimper. "Now, take off my belt, unzip my pants and sit on my cock."

If there is one thing that can be said for you, you learn from your mistakes. Now when Helmut Zemo tells you to do something, he rarely has to tell you twice.

By the time you swing your leg over to sit on his lap, you're so worked up you know it will be a quick fuck. He holds you close at the edge of the bed, and you slowly let yourself sink down, lips pressed, eyes shut, a moan humming in your chest as you are filled. He moans, too, until you swallow him entirely.

Kissing you, Zemo starts to rock your hips back and forth and you give the sort of cry that can't be helped; he's thick, and it aches so good. When you ride him like this, it's so easy to feel overwhelmed and so very easy to come.

Clinging to his shoulders, you start to thrust your hips forward, and he smiles. He loves when you fuck him. The opportunity isn't always there, so when it comes, he enjoys your effort. Today you're giving it your all as a way to apologize, mainly because you have every intention of doing whatever the hell you want, whenever you want, so the very least you can do is make it worth his while and yours.

With a breathy laugh, you let your head fall back and hold his shoulders, your arms extending, elbows locked as you move only your hips. You raise your head, watching him, enjoying the helpless, boyish look of a man who fucks being fucked for once. It's so good to see him put in his place sometimes; but just as quickly as you've taken control, he snatches it away when he grabs you by the waist and pounds into you so hard he's nearly standing, and you can say nothing. You can only take it, take him and his perfect punishment.

I'm sorry, but I will never learn.

The sound of your climax escapes from your smiling lips as a sort of bouncing cry that triggers his own, and he moans, hanging his head gasping with every pulse into your body, each breath tickling your stomach until he is still and you sit up to wrap your arms around him holding onto Helmut as you breathe together.

He's rubbing your back and you watch that slight frown set between his closed eyes as you think of the day; how you'll shower and get ready, kiss the dogs and drive into town with him. Maybe you'll have dinner there tonight and drinks at your favorite bar by the water; that sounds fun you haven't been in some time. It feels good to have things like favorite bars and cafes, local stands at the market, and people whose faces you are starting to remember. It all makes the uncertainty feel less like standing on the edge of a cliff, that's for sure.

You pull back, kiss his lips and brush Zemo's hair from his eyes, so pleased to see how they still hold the same look of love for you as they did the first time you sat next to him in Madripoor.

His smile has lost its cruel edge now that you've fucked it out of his system. But you wonder if he was bothered by more than your careless spending, something else seemed to be on his mind but not anymore, and he kisses your cheek, your neck, your cheek again. "You like to drive me mad, don't you?" He says his words saying one thing, the look of devotion quite another.

"Well, I'm so good at it." You say, letting his laughter wrap around you as tight as his arms. Closing your eyes, you smile and raise your lips to his ear. "Maybe next time, I'll overdraft one of your bank accounts."

Zemo is watching you. You can feel the way his eyes track your every move after you've left him standing on the sidewalk while you head into the salon and hug your tech.

"Someone is worried over you today?" She says in her pretty accent. Her arms are crossed, brow cocked high. She's got her sights set on the Baron and nods just over your shoulder towards the window.

You shake your head with a placid smile, brushing her words aside.

"He's always like that. The protective sort." You tease and turn, giving him a wave. Zemo is cautious when you're out, and it's to be expected. You are, in the end, hiding from a lot of people. But you hate that he seems like one of those guys. He's anything but the insecure and overbearing sort. This is just the way things have to be when living between two worlds. This is your reminder. Especially because you do tend to forget, you're not just Helmut's very happy, very spoiled girlfriend and— as you feel the lingering heat across your ass— his very loving sub.

"Okay, okay, so let him look then," Your tech says with a grin as she turns to you instead. "So long as he's back in time to pay, he can come and watch me paint your nails for all I care." She says slipping her arm through yours to lead you away.

You'll never suspect Zemo of anything other than loving you. That's because this is true, and it's always easy to stick to the truth. Today, however, there's more to it than what you know. Nothing can be done about that. In time you'll know his secrets; after all, these aren't the sort a man keeps from a woman because he enjoys them. He keeps them from you so that you will always be safe. So that if his plans should ever fail him, you will not be thrown into some version of the raft for people without super strength or villainous minds. You are brilliant, but you are not like him.

Zemo watches as you give one of those coy little waves, and he smiles back, amused that you've got him wrapped around all five of your damn fingers that wiggle goodbye, hoping you see how much he does truly love you. He is, after all, doing this for you. You— and James.

And with that last bit of confirmation that everything is going as it should, Zemo turns and heads down the sloping streets lined with historically colorful buildings.

He pulls a pair of sunglasses from his breast pocket and puts them on, feeling a bit more invisible behind the classic Persols. He slides his hand into the pocket of his pants stifling a smile as his true identity stays hidden behind the mask of his beard and shades. It feels good to hide in plain sight sometimes.

Of course, if anyone had really been looking, they would have recognized the confident gait of Baron Zemo right away. That strut was impossible to mistake, and yet he fits right in, surrounded by the social elite who see him as a reflection of their own importance. He must belong in the rich playground surrounding him, which can only mean that they do too. The attention he draws comes simply because he is, "undeniably handsome and obviously rich." Your words, not his. In fact, you tell him this all the time, and he believes you. It's flattering but means nothing to him in the grand scheme of things. Just cements his ability to blend in, becoming another way to keep this temporary situation going for just long enough to survive and keep you happy. No, not just happy— satisfied.

Zemo winds his way through the narrow cobblestone streets, going down a few steps, under a pedestrian bridge, and towards the water where one of his favorite cafes will be open and relatively empty. Perfect for the sort of business he'd left the comfort of home for.

He glances down at his watch, right on time. The cafe typically gets busy very early and very late, so he'd chosen this hour for its peace. Having you scream his name this morning was not a part of his plan but such a nice way to waste time until he needed to be here.

You

He laughs to himself, distracted as he goes. He hadn’t been looking, but could not have asked for a better sub and certainly not a better woman to have fallen in love with after Hekie. You are nothing like her, and that's what he needed, someone to help him move on, to forget and start again…

He trots up the stone steps of the city center, the beachfront coming into view. It's a gorgeous sight before the tourists come and the shops get too busy; from behind the dark shade of his sunglasses, it all looks as moody as he feels, and he smiles, hearing the echo of your voice as you cry each time he cracks the belt across your ass. Yes, you are exactly what he needs, with all your rule-breaking.

He can imagine how you must have looked lying in bed, happily scrolling on your phone with the dogs asleep at your feet, spending all of his money. Fifteen hundred euros! All right, fine. Not all. Not even close, but he hadn't taken his belt off and used it on you in far too long. How could he ignore such a perfect reason? And it was too much fun to play the disgusted patriarchal Baron to your sweet little housewife role. And when you'd had the audacity to shrug and roll your eyes as he'd confronted you, well— you're lucky that's all you got.

Zemo shakes his head, not sure if he wants to laugh or put you over his knee when he gets you home. Probably a little of both. You spoiled, awful, wonderful brat. He doubts this morning was even enough to get his point across especially with you off getting your nails done? And didn’t you just get your hair done two days ago? He loves for you to feel good; self care is as you always say mental care, but at this rate he’ll have to sell a house. He's slipping… Perhaps the new spreader tonight? It finally arrived this morning, he just hasn't told you yet. He already opened the box of course and had a look at the four soft cuffs. How they adjust to so many configurations —he'll have to lock the dogs out of the bedroom first, he realizes— he'll enjoy a glass of bourbon or cognac, perhaps watch some television while lying in bed with you on the floor, helpless and just a little miserable, ankles and wrists locked and trussed up with the black neoprene so that you are open the width of the center piece, your sweet little pussy with nowhere to hide, your ass shamelessly exposed, practically begging to be fucked…

Shit. His groan is the sound of a man realizing he needs to get his head in the game. But thoughts of you come so easily.

I'll punish you again for distracting me; he smiles and eases the images from his mind.

Turning from the view of the water, Zemo passes the bakery and restaurant, the clothing store you like and the shoe store you've both spent too much money in, and then finally comes to the cafe.

Taking his sunglasses off and with a rather fake smile that does not reach his eyes, he holds the door open for a woman leaving and steps inside, greeting the man behind the counter. He's been here enough times with you to know the face, and the man knows him.

"Alone today?" He asks.

"Just for a while, I have some business to attend to, two espressos, please," Zemo answers kindly in his perfectly accented French and heads to the back corner where he sits when you're not with him.

"Merci." He nods once the barista comes out with the small cups and saucers, setting them on the table.

A patient man he may be, but Zemo does not wait for his guest before he has a little of the coffee because waiting will change the temperature of the drink, and it is best to have it fresh from the pour. It's also not been established that this meeting is worth wasting a perfectly made cup of coffee.

And then he sees her. She's right on time.

Zemo lowers his cup, eyes following the dark figure that passes in front of the windows outside and through the door, the sound of the little bell announcing her entrance.

She doesn't see him. He enjoys the moment, watching her search behind her blue lenses as she pauses.

She pulls the glasses off and greets the barista with a smile, tells him she's just meeting an old friend, and then— yes— here I am .

Zemo gives her the smallest of waves, just hardly lifting his hand. He knows she won't recognize him right away, but it doesn't take long before the realization flashes like fire in her eyes, and she crosses the room, dim compared to outside. She snakes her way past the other empty tables to come and stand next to his,

"Baron Zemo." She says just loud enough that he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "Or should I call you something else?"

"Contessa Valentina," He says much quieter, his naturally heavy whisper more attuned to this sort of conversation. "Please, have a seat." He offers.

She sits across from him and looks down at the drink, and pulls a face. Looking over her shoulder, she calls out, "A Pellegrino please!" Then turns with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I don't do caffeine."

He ignores this bit of banter and moves on, knowing they don't have long for multiple reasons. "We have exactly twenty minutes, Contessa. I said I would meet with you this one time, and I am a man of my word, contrary to what you might have heard. You have exactly five minutes to convince me to stay for the full twenty."

"And I can't thank you enough for it." She gushes with exactly zero authenticity.

A part of him thinks maybe, deep down, she might actually mean it, but he knows enough about her to understand that Valentina Allegra de Fontaine is in it for herself.

She's just playing the long game that ends with her getting whatever it is she wants. Right now, what she wants is to sit across from him, which was interesting enough that Zemo had given Oeznik the okay to reply to her attempts to contact him through his various avenues.

"I'll get right to it." She says quickly, thanking the barista for the water. "Love the beard by the way you look absolutely dashing."

"Thank you."

She smiles and leans in just a little. "So. I think we both know the bastards underestimated you. I told them it would be a mistake. I mean— come on— the man who took down the avengers isn't going to let some punk kid and a bunch of mercs take him out! You're Baron fucking Zemo! " She whispers, heavy with the sort of excitement you'd save for spilling a juicy secret. "I dunno much about your girl other than she's from Madripoor. My guess is there's not much more to know. Just a few low-level offenses committed too many years ago for anyone to care. Anyway. The point is. I simply asked the question I thought needed to be asked all along."

"Which was?"

"If we can't beat him?" She holds waits, palm up offering him the end of the sentence.

Zemo smiles. She really thinks joining is the answer.

"But, there's a problem, isn't there?" She asks, taking a sip of her drink when he doesn’t take the offer.

"I don't believe in super soldiers or the creation of them. You know this. I will never help your cause." He says, just a hint of sympathy for the time it took her to travel all this way just to be told no.

"What about protecting the world from them?"

He gives her a look that shows he can smell her shit from here.

"Look Baron you did this. You got rid of the heroes but the world still needs someone to keep them safe."

"I would never lower myself."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What are you asking?"

"All I'm asking, Helmut, is that you consider maybe being on the right side of this fight when we need you. Not always, but sometimes. Not every fight will be against super soldiers. Sometimes, we'll need a little help against the very people you've helped take down once before."

"Does this usually work?" He asks, finishing his coffee.

She shrugs. "Yep, usually"

He nods and smiles. "You've lost the rest of your time. I'm sorry. And as I'm sure you know, your life depends on our location staying secret."

"Yeah yeah." She rolls her eyes. "You won't even consider it?"

"No," He says, ready to get up.

"Not even for her?"

"Please don't make empty threats. From what I've heard, you're better than that."

She shrugs and flashes her gaze upwards, her eyes meeting his with a smile as sharp as a straight razor. "Not even for him?" She cuts.

Zemo's body relaxes back into the seat with a long, disappointed exhale through his nose. She's bought herself just enough time for him to reply.

Zemo's head tilts ever so slightly. "I asked because I'm polite. I won't again. Do not make threats against me. You understand to threaten them is a threat against me?" He asks as though he needs to explain, "I can assure you Contessa; whatever you think you know I can do…." He shakes his head, pitying her and the many things he's capable of, "You're merely scratching the surface. I will not be backed into corners; I will not be intimidated. So tread lightly if you wish to return to your home in the same way that you left it"

"You show your weakness, Baron." She says, but he sees the way her pulse quickens at the base of her throat. Her voice wavered as she spoke, undetectable by most, unmistakable by a former Colonel.

"Quite the contrary. I show my strength." He answers, "And I will not be forced to comprise who I am so that you can use me to get what you want. Now, your time is up. Forget this happened, or you will regret it; that is up to you." He says and rises to leave.

"If you change your mind— please have that dear old man reach out to me again. I'll be waiting for the call." She smiles as Zemo slides his hands into his pockets and silently walks away.

It's not time to come and pick you up yet. All the better, Zemo is sure Valentina's still following and watching. She's not really the type to take no for an answer, and he's pretty sure he's the first to deny her. So she'll probably follow for as long as she can without risking her neck, which, when he checks his watch, is about five more minutes.

She's been playing this game for so long she knows how it all works. She knows he can pay people to take care of his "problems" ten times over. People whose anonymity and skill come at a high price, as does their lack of concern for taking sides. They only care about who pays more, and right now, that person is the Baron.

Zemo makes his way through a small but steady stream of casual tourists who have started to trickle in along the waterfront and leads Val towards a sniper in position a few stories up atop an old church, or perhaps it's that mill turned into a museum? He can't actually say, but that's for his own protection as he's instructed it to be.

It doesn't matter. He has a choice to make.

Pretending to be interested in the menu of a small seafood restaurant, Zemo walks up to the stone facade and stands to the side facing the mounted listing of options, but his mind is far from shellfish and champagne.

The world would probably be a better place without Contessa Valentina in it, and yet how many people have thought the same about him?

He does not trust her. He never will. He keeps an eye on her reflection in his sunglasses as she pretends to look at a shop across the street, but for you and for James, he will let her live long enough to think this through in spite of what he's already said.

Taking off his sunglasses, Zemo wipes them with the silk square from his back pocket before putting them back on and tucking the Christmas gift you got him away. The signal is a simple one, simple but effective.

Somewhere, a hidden assassin is drawing their gun back and out of position, leaving him to his own business now that they are no longer needed but paid. He's saved Val's life with the gesture and, in some ways, made a rather large decision about his own.

Yes —he'll think about it.

But about what, he wonders.

Leaving the menu, Zemo walks on, unsure of where he's going. His mind is clouded, so foggy with these scattered thoughts.

At least the Contessa is gone. He hasn't spotted her for a few minutes now.

Good. He wants to be alone; he needs to process this plan. His plan to be clear, and how it's turned out so far.

At no point had he ever doubted that the attack at sea went far beyond Bruno. These sorts of things tend to run deep. He'd set his silent eyes and ears to work as soon as they'd reached land, thankful for his wealth and a few connections to spies on the inside of networks a man like him needs. When Valentina reached out, he'd begun to patch together a few plans, and so it seemed one of them could, if he so chose, come together.

After all, someone had been bound to come to him. They need him. The world will always need men like Helmut Zemo. If they didn't, it would have been death instead of capture and the lock-up. It was never really about punishing him for his sins; it's about keeping him on retainer.

The question is, how does one go about being kept when they are not willing to be. He will never answer to them or anyone other than the two of you, and he knew the game would be a dangerous one, but how far is he willing to go?

Rubbing at his beard, he walks a little slower, letting his hand slide to the back of his neck; his head drops, and he blows a frustrated breath up, feeling annoyed with his conversation with the Contessa. He still has the upper hand, at least.

The word leverage comes to mind, and Zemo remembers when that's what kept him alive long enough to fall for James when this first started, all the way back in Latvia. That had been an infuriating mess— he smiles, he has a little laugh, he drops his hand, lowering his head; he walks on— he could still feel that burning tension, all that pent-up anger and want. This is very different, of course. Now he plays to keep you both close, possibly to have you both at his side again and permanently.

Looking out at the sailboats, Zemo smiles a little, thinking of Bucky being here with him, living his life as an out man. He's got it in him; there's no doubting that. Of course he'll need time and support, but being open about his sexuality won't be a real problem for James. He's secure in his choices when he knows they are right. He's also stubborn as hell, a surprisingly loud eater, a tv remote hog, and he somehow manages to pout like a spoiled child while grumbling like an old man, but he is good, and kind to a fault, and, he is rightfully proud of the man that he has become, making it unfortunate that who he's fallen in love with might put Bucky in the cruel spotlight of a very judgmental audience; funny enough Zemo is nearly certain their bisexuality will have little to do with it.

Never one to shy away from who he is or what he's done the hurt knowing that James will be the one to field the questions and bear the burden of another man's sins.

Looking to the street ahead, Zemo pushes the thoughts of being less than worthy of a hero from his mind and thinks of you instead. No one from your world will ever judge him. Bucky would be upset with him for thinking things like this, and rightfully so, but at the moment, it can't be helped; sometimes, it just feels good to be accepted as is.

You'll help him clear his head tonight, you're always good at that. While he imagines dinner and how you will inevitably make him laugh with your sharp wit and knack for telling the most hilarious stories until he forgets about his troubles, his thoughts so easily drift to other things, like how you'll beg him to let you out of the spreader. Still, he'll make you earn it first…

"Oh. I'm sorry." He apologizes.

He's bumped into a couple trying to take a selfie. Clearing his throat and quickly moving on, Zemo rakes his hair back, annoyed by his ever growing locks.

Okay. He takes a breath and squares his shoulders. Yes.

That is the plan for tonight, he decides without getting too distracted. It's always good to have someplace to put all of this energy, he smiles. How nice that it's inside of you.

His watch says time to start heading your way.

Crossing the street, Helmut's heart flutters, just knowing that you'll be waiting at the counter for him to pay, smiling and still so pleased to see him as you always are. That will never get old. The way you never seem to tire of seeing him when it's him that you see every day, but then the feeling is mutual.

Already breathing a little easier, as if a small weight has been lifted from his chest, the Baron walks with lighter steps though with his usual commanding gait that most people step aside for, but he does not feel quite so out of sorts. And then something happens that tosses him back into a whirlwind of doubt.

Not a believer in things like signs, or superstitions, Zemo chooses instead to listen to logic, but as he walks— for a reason he can not place— he looks up at the exact moment that a warm southern wind blows.

Nestled between the boutique and the bakery is the novelty shop you both always skip, and sitting just outside of the windows are some trinkets and things for sale and a rack of what looks to be t-shirts. Awful, boxy things that stand out like an American in flip-flops and cargo shorts. Hands back in his pockets, he stands like a pillar parting the stream of pedestrians while he watches the shirts lift again in the breeze and reveal themselves to him. His heart begins to beat in his chest as fast as it had when he held you in his hands this morning.

"Excuse me," Zemo says, getting the attention of the old shopkeeper. "Are these for sale?" He asks, his French fluent and beautiful as always.

The old man glances over, sees that he's pointing to the array of t-shirts, and turns his face down as though the sight is unpleasant.

"The feeling is mutual," Zemo tells him with a little smile, though his eyes do not change.

The old man chuckles to himself and shrugs. "No one really wants them anymore. You'd be helping me if you take one off my hands."

"No, I insist on paying you for it."

"And I insist on you taking it, whichever you like. No one else wants them now that the mighty have fallen." He says with a laugh and waves both Zemo and the unwanted stock away.

Alone now, Zemo stares down at the selection, his eyes focused until he swears he can smell the scent of Bucky fresh from the shower and how the soap smells different on his skin from yours. It keeps him stuck for longer than he intends.

"Thanks." He says quietly once he's finally made his choice and leaves, the money on the counter more than enough to cover the rest of the shirts on the rack.

Thursday is Petra's day off.

On Thursdays, Helmut insists on making you dinner. It's better this way, you like cooking, but he's so good at it, why not let him just indulge you both.

Coming down the stairs from your shower feeling fresh and cute in the obnoxiously expensive sweats and white tank with the padded shoulders you like to lounge around in, you're greeted by the aggressively beautiful notes of Mingus, which float up the back hall, making you smile. You love that Zemo truly enjoys real jazz, even if you're sometimes on the fence about it yourself. Not to mention it being a funny reminder that you're in love with a self-proclaimed old man who loves a genre that has been declared dead for years. Shame, you think as you trot down the last of the steps and into the kitchen, so alive with Helmut's radiant energy. Any music that can make a man forget his troubles has the right to go on forever.

You tip-toe across the cool stone floor towards him, feeling the warmth of the stove and the natural walls of plaster that seem to hold the day's sunlight instead of reflecting it. They glow a soft, buttery yellow, and even though the ceiling feels as high as a cathedral, it is still your cozy home. The place where you eat, drink, talk, laugh, and yes, sometimes cry. This kitchen is its heart and right now, Helmut is at the center.

He moves quickly to add a little salt to the pan, using a spoon to ladle the liquid over whatever it is he's cooking, all the while his head moving in time to whatever this beat is.

His back is to you, so you slip your arms around his waist, only startling him with your affection. He knew you were there of course, you'll probably never be able to sneak up on him. You give his neck a line of kisses and another squeeze making him laugh a little until you peek around his shoulder. "Smells great. What is it?"

"A Sokovian favorite." He says, his accent thick. Must be the food; it reminds him of home. He says the name of the dish, and you smile, kissing his shoulder. Knowing you can't understand, he turns his head glancing back at you looking adorably proud, "Basically white fish with potatoes, but don't let the simplicity fool you. It's very good."

"Oh, I trust you. I can't wait." You say and leave him to pour a glass of wine from the bottle already open, probably for cooking.

Feeling the promise of a good night, you go to lean against the counter, not really thinking of much at all. You just take a sip and enjoy the sight of Zemo out of his tailored clothes from earlier, looking so casually wealthy in a tight black t-shirt and joggers.

"Will you hand me the… black pepper?" He’s pointing like he’s not sure if that's what he really needs as he turns towards you. Funny enough, you find yourself bracing for the view. Bearded casual Zemo sends you into a bit of a frenzy every time. Honestly, you're about one night away from calling him daddy and you don't exactly think he's going to mind...

But, instead of a sexy come hither grin or a girlish giggle, you send a fine spray of white wine shooting out across the kitchen that he jumps back from, missing by an inch. You mist the floor and counter instead, grabbing the stone ledge to stay upright as the humor threatens to double you over.

"Oh— my god!" You sputter and wipe your chin. You hold in the laughter until you can ask. "What the fuck are you wearing? Please tell me that's exactly what I know it is!"

He seems genuinely confused but then looks down, and you see Helmut blush. You've literally never seen him do that before, and for a second, you feel bad, but fuck it. No. He can not—will not— Get away with this.

"It's just a shirt" He frowns like a self-conscious teenage girl in a new outfit, all the while holding his spatula. As if he needed an accessory to complete to the look.

You lose it, laughing as you go to him and run your hands up his torso and over his chest, admiring the red star over the silver circle and bars with the angled lines running through them. "It's amazing, but… what? Where the hell did you find a Winter Soldier t-shirt? In the south of France! And when?"

Zemo stares at you for a second but then sighs and laughs a little. "A tourist shop. Yesterday while you got your nails done."

"No?" You can't hold back your smile; you hope he sees that it's nothing but adoration.

"More like; a tourist trap." He gripes.

"What the hell were you doing there?"

"Waiting for you."

While you got your nails done, he was buying a t-shirt with your boyfriend's superhero logo printed on it, and poorly? Baron Zemo, full of surprises and a hopeless romantic.

You have to look him over again. It's just a little too tight, which is perfect, just like Bucky would wear it! It clings to the curve of Zemo's shoulders and the subtle v-ing of his waist.

"Okay, this is the sexiest? But cutest, but also saddest? Thing I've ever seen?" You don't know if you want to laugh or cry; you're on the verge of both.

"I didn't go looking for it," He defends himself looking away until he can't ignore the humor in it and smiles, looking back at you, that lock of hair falling in his eyes. "There were all sorts; Captain America, Thor, Hulk, all of the classic assholes. This one was hanging there in the mix, it caught my eye of course —I couldn't just leave it there. I put it on while you were upstairs and, I forgot that I did."

You adore him; you want to hold him and kiss him and never let him go. "Oh, Helmut." You sigh, alternating between the laugh and the tears welling in your eyes for how much you do miss Bucky but the laughter wins. "I did this once too. Stole my boyfriend's t-shirt to sleep in when I knew I wouldn’t see him for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, everyone does." You grin, and he looks down at himself with a shy observation, the realization of what he’s done quickly flashing across his face and your heart damn near bursts.

Suddenly the sound of the dogs running up breaks the spell, and you go towards the kitchen island. "Now, it's clearly a bootleg, but— I officially love it. Don't take it off."

You kneel, knowing they're rounding the corner. First is Lou, followed, of course, by Ada. You pet them both, letting them give you licks ready to stand and tease their papa again, but then you notice something. "Wait… what happened to your collars?" You got them new ones, glittery rainbow collars that you'd put on them this morning. Now instead, they are both wearing soft honey brown leather. "Did Petra change them?" You take the silver tag that hangs from the d rings between your fingers. "What is this? Hermès? "Helmut!" You look up at him, jaw dropped. " Hermès! "

"The other ones were…" He shrugs. "These will last; they are good quality." As if it means nothing. As if designer leather collars big enough to fit French mastiffs are okay after the shine he put on your ass this morning.

"You hypocrite!" You snap, standing. "You punish me for spending too much, all the while knowing these were on the way! I should take you over my knee!" You yell but laugh even though you're actually a little pissed at his double standards and go to him, grabbing his arm, attempting to pull him in, but Helmut does not move.

"You can not punish me for buying necessities!" He insists matter-of-factly.

"Matching Hermès dog collars are not toothpaste and toilet paper, Helmut."

"No. But, don't they look nice?" He smiles down at the dogs.

"Am I losing my mind, or aren't you the same man who has thrown more than one tantrum about having dogs in the first place?"

He's shrugging and trying to keep it together, but you see the laughter breaking through.

"Mr. "No, send it back." And what was it you said when I brought Ada home?"

"She sleeps outside with the other beast." He says, ignoring that you have your arms around his neck and the two dogs are sitting at his feet, wagging their tails across the floor.

"And now?"

He tugs at your wrist. "The food will burn." He says, eying the pan, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

"Where do they sleep, Helmut?"

"The food!"

"Say it!"

"In our bed! Now move!"

You laugh and let him go winking at the dogs as he quickly goes to flip the fish, and you trot over to the counter and grab the bottle to refill your glass. Watching him from the corner of your eye, you push up onto the counter and sit, "Hermès." You roll your eyes. "I want a Hermès collar" You start to pout, waiting for the reaction in 3, 2, 1…

He spins and looks at you, eyes wide then narrowing. He takes the few steps to stand between your legs and grabs your shirt pulling you against him. "That can easily be arranged."

You'd been joking, but now…

You smile and shut your eyes as he kisses you. "Oh! the fish!" You shout, pushing him away, and he makes the mad dash back.

You laugh watching him save dinner.

Once the pan is on the back burner and he is calm, you sigh and take the plates from him that you'll use. "I wish we could FaceTime Bucky," You say into your glass. You haven't been able to in so damn long.

He nods but gives you the, oh well look, and you smile as you swallow the last of your drink, sucking the bright flavor from your tongue, watching him quickly finish up.

"He'd never let you live this down, you know," You say, admiring the shirt again. Neither will you. You can't wait to fuck him in it later. Maybe on the table right after dinner— maybe before. You're always so hungry after, and with the shirt, it'll be like Bucky is there, sort of.

"Oh, I'm well aware," Zemo says with a dreamy smile on his face and glances at you. Why do you get the feeling he's thinking the same thing.

You watch him plating the food, the dogs at his feet waiting for a scrap to fall only to have him toss a few treats from the "cookie" jar down to them, and you have to admire his ability to surprise you. Here you thought it was Bucky who would make a good house husband when all along, it's Helmut Zemo who is the perfect domestic dom.

The city that never sleeps can be quite peaceful when you get used to it. All that noise sort of blends together. Sometimes, when you're tired and restless, if you close your eyes and let your mind go blank, it can sound a little like the crashing of waves. Sometimes…

In the otherwise dark apartment, the unwatched TV casts a blue glow over the sleeping face of Sergeant Barnes, still dressed and curled on his side with only a thin blanket to cover him, which it hardly does.

A frown ruins his smooth brow as he dreams a patchwork of violent images that create a quilt; nothing as awful as his old nightmares, but sleep is still a chore even when it happens naturally.

The vibration of his phone on the floor wakes him, and Bucky is very confused for a second. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in the living room again, and he really hadn't intended to fall asleep on the floor— you'd be very disappointed— he smiles affectionately at the thought.

The blur of numbers comes into focus after a few hard blinks, but the country code is still unfamiliar.

His heart stops.

In a world full of enemies and the inevitable, a simple phone call could change his life, but the last time his phone rang like this had been worth the risk of answering.

"Hello?"

"James?"

He shuts his eyes and sits up on the floor of his apartment, taking a deep breath. "Helmut." He blows the air out in a stream.

"Hello, James." He says the greeting and his name like they are the sweetest words in the world.

"I knew it was you." Bucky smiles wide as he sits up the rest of the way, leaning against the wall. He lays his warm arm on his bent knee and holds the phone in his black and gold hand. "It's so good to hear your voice. How long has it been since the last call?" He says, thinking back to the FaceTime chat the three of you had. The question was rhetorical, but Zemo replies as though the answer haunts him.

"Three months, three weeks, and six days."

Bucky stares across the room; he's not sure his heart can take much more of this. "Weirdo," He teases, and Zemo laughs just as Bucky needs to hear. No serious talk right now. "That's better. I love to hear you laugh, hell i'd take a smile. I can hear it through the phone." He says, realizing this is very true, and then it's like Zemo is there in the room with him, right on the floor, so close Bucky can smell his cologne… what the fuck is it called? He can't remember. How could he forget!

He rubs his face with his free hand, trying not to get emotional, but he hasn't been sleeping well again, and just the deep, soothing tone of Zemo's whisper is enough to break him. He wants to run out the door and into his arms, but that's what? An eight hour flight? And how many excuses?

"Listen, this line is less secure than the last time; we don't have very long."

"That's okay. What's going on? Are you all right? Is she okay?"

"We're fine. She's at home. She'll hate me for calling without her but, I needed to hear your voice, to see how you are. It was now or never. I had to take it. I— I miss you."

Bucky’s face twists with the pain of love as he lowers the phone so that Zemo can't hear his ragged breath. "I miss you too." He manages, holding it back up to his ear. " So much."

"James? It sounds very open there, hard… are you sleeping on the floor again?"

Bucky Laughs. Nothing gets past the Colonel. "Well not always; tonight was an accident. Sometimes though, the bed just feels really empty without you and her in it. It's strange waking up completely alone."

The line is silent— silent for too long.

"Helmut?"

"I'm here." His voice is tight now. Bucky knows why. He knows what Zemo looks like with tears in his eyes all too well.

"Soon, I think I can come. Sam and I are wrapping up a small mission, nothing big. And then maybe. I just, well, you know I can't have anyone catching on to where you two are. You know that" He says more to reassure himself than Zemo.

"Yes of course. Actually, I haven't been completely honest. I have something else to run past you."

"Oh yeah? What is it."

"Listen carefully. I have to be quick."

It sounds like he's walking, and by the time he's done explaining, Bucky can hear him breathing just a little harder.

"It's the perfect plan. I want to be there now. You know I do." Bucky says, he’s gotten up and moved to the window and looks out at the city.

"I know. It's all right. This is how it has to be." Zemo pauses, swearing away from the phone, "Your fucking dog thought he might try to go for a treat from his favorite bakery. But not today. We're going home Lou."

Ah, he's walking the dog. Bucky grins, Helmut Zemo, taking the dog he gave him for a walk. Well shit… he holds his hand to his heart and has a quiet lovesick laugh to himself. "Be nice to him. I know what it's like to be pulled around by you when you're in a bad mood. It's not always fun as you may think it is."

Zemo scoffs, but Bucky hears the way his tone changes. "I'm in a good mood; if anything, I'm only sad because I do need to go. I've stayed on too long."

Bucky wants to beg him not to go, but he won't. "All right. I'm happy you called though. But yeah, maybe don't tell her you did. She really might kill you."

Zemo laughs, and Bucky can hear him with keys in his hand. "She'll certainly try. Take me out with a pillow in my sleep or a maybe blanket around my throat."

Bucky laughs, but why does this sound like something both of you would be into. "It's morning there?" Bucky asks quickly, suddenly curious.

"Afternoon," Zemo says, opening a door.

"Enjoy the day," Bucky says softly as he stares up at the night sky.

"Mmm, sure...James."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Bucky feels warm tears on his face which surprises him; he wipes his cheek with his shoulder. "Yeah. I love you too, Helmut… I love you both. Kiss her for me."

"Always."

The call ends, and he stands alone in the dark, wondering if this is better or worse.

Either way, it feels like his heart has been punched out of his chest.

When it's been too long, he shakes it off, grabs his blanket off the floor, and goes back to the bedroom.

At least he has the sound of his man's voice to fall asleep to, so clear and alive in his head and now the image of you adorably attempting to bludgeon him to death with a pillow.

You and Zemo alone together— Bucky laughs and shakes his head—he has to wonder how you two are actually managing. You're both such dynamic individuals. But he has no reason to worry; you'll both be fine. Your mutual care and respect are what makes your love something so beautiful to see, as beautiful as you both.

Soon. He thinks, lying on his back listening to the sounds of the city that is nothing like the ocean now.

Soon.

Live music could not be more opposite to surround sound on a yacht. The personalized comfort of your own paradise at sea will be impossible to top, so why bother comparing. Instead, you just enjoy the many ways your life seems to keep tossing you from one incredible moment to the next.

An ombre sunset paints the sky over the village plaza where you and Zemo sit at one of the tables on this busy Saturday evening. There is a charge in the air brought on by the energy of tourists and locals who mingle together as they come and go from the docks just down the road, the restaurants that line the way, and the shops a few streets over.

That clear sky guarantees a good evening and the mood of the people feels lifted by the warm sea winds that stroke your skin, competing with the touch of Zemo's fingertips.

His gaze warms your body faster than your chartreuse on the rocks; he just can't keep his eyes off you in this gorgeous dress. Its dark floral pattern clings to every curve without actually being tight. It simply hugs and holds and makes you feel like a woman that could kick her heels off and run into the ocean or down a bottle of champagne while chainsmoking cigarettes as she argues about politics and art. Neither of which you plan on doing at the moment, but— in this dress— who knows, anything could happen tonight.

Zemo trails a slow s shape down your exposed back— he's loved you in a low cut dress since the beginning— it tickles and makes you squirm away until he lays his palm flat on your bare skin rubbing the tease. You smile and close your eyes with a content hum that sums up your love for his touch and Parisian fashion.

Leaning forward to grab his drink Zemo takes a long sip when you both hear the ruckus of some men in the little cafe behind you. There's a football match on that grabs Zemo's attention, and he leans down, squinting to see the score on the mounted tv from his chair.

You already know he doesn't care about the teams playing, he just loves the game, and it makes you smile to see him enjoying something so normal. You watch him watching, shaking his head as someone misses a pass, and you laugh when he curses the defender in his native tongue. He's so cute when he's mad at anyone but you.

When the band that has been playing in the plaza tonight comes back from their break, he complains because it will be impossible for him to hear the match, so he sits back resigned to the music, and you laugh again at his misfortune. Poor Zemo.

You rub his leg, scrunching your nose at him until he breaks and smiles at you.

"I predict a tie." You say as the band warms up.

He chuckles and shrugs. "Fair, fair. I'll accept the possibility." He replies, making you both laugh.

"Don't be a grump over a game. Tonight is too perfect for that." You say as the music starts.

His head tilt accents the way his gaze goes soft for you, and he reaches to pinch your chin between his fingers just a little. "Of course not." He says, "I'm here, with you, no football. I promise."

You grin, shoulders to your ears, and look back as the beautiful swell of mandolin, guitar, trumpet, bass, and whatever else is happening in the village center begins to rise. You feel him rub your arm to get your attention.

Zemo's smile is subtle, but it’s genuine and it reaches his eyes as it does only for you. "I love you." He says. You can't hear him, but you see his lips move. You could watch him say those words again and again. He has the most beautiful mouth.

You lean in and kiss him gently. "I love you," You answer, looking into his eyes that are more serious than you expect, but that's all right. Sometimes his many layers weigh him down, stopping him from being carefree. You stare at him for a second longer, wondering what he's thinking but decide he looks so pretty by the water and colorful village that it doesn't matter.

Turning back to the wonderful chaos of the square, you rest your arms on the iron and wood table, leaning in to watch the old folks make their way to the spaces left open for dancing. They move as they can, ignoring the racing rhythm they can't keep up with; instead, they enjoy the company of one another's arms, dancing to their own beat.

Zemo starts to massage his way up your neck this time. His touch is firm, and your eyes close reflexively. You relax even more as his hand slides back down the space between your shoulder blades and then comes his voice, deep and clear, his lips brushing against your ear. "You want to dance, don't you?" He teases.

You smile and tuck your chin. "Maybe?" You lie. Of course, you do.

His kiss and smile are one and the same and pressed to your temple. "Next song." He promises softly, still so close that you can hear him above the noise. He keeps that contact as he reaches for his drink again with his free hand.

Your gaze follows along as he brings the rocks glass up to his lips. You watch him take a drink of the cognac before turning to you again.

The kiss he gives you tastes warm and sweet. Thankfully the music is loud enough to cover the sound of your breathy moan as he strokes the curve of your jaw with his thumb. His inscreasing grip on the back of your neck makes you think of what will happen later tonight, how it starts soft and ends with you in a delicious panic.

You open your mouth against his, you want to make a sound —a gasp a cry— anything but you don't, you hold your breath as the pressure grows and grows until you squeeze his leg unable to take more.

He does it sometimes, dominates you in public, not a lot, just enough as the thrill of pushing societal boundaries always makes you wet.

You open your eyes and pull back to find him watching you, his thumb still stroking as his hold on you lessens, and you lick the tase of his liquor from your lips.

People are sitting at the tables behind you and for a second, you feel the heat of embarrassment rising as you're sure they must notice how you submit to him, but you're much better at not feeling shame for your public displays now as you once were.

Exhaling slowly through your nose, a silent understanding passes between you.

From his eyes, "Good?"

And from yours, "Yes Baron."

The smiles exchanged between the beautiful woman and the man who so clearly loves her would quiet any critics. You turn with a glow in your cheeks to face the music and the stunning backdrop of the water and boats and buildings, thankful Zemo had the wherewithal to choose this place for the two of you to live.

The song ends with a few hard strums of the guitar and a spattering of people clap before another song begins with just the mandolin and the singer's voice. Your ears perk at his lovely wavering tone and the promising melody. Will it be happy or sad, you wonder.

As soon as the hand drum and Tamborine join in, you swivel your head towards Zemo, resting your chin on your shoulder to look into the eyes of your man, who alraedy knows. He raises his dark brows and laughs at you.

"Go on," He says with a nod, and waves you away with the hand resting on the back of your chair.

You grin and rise, leaving him to join the small crowd before it grows, easily losing yourself to the music that calls to you, sad and strange as it is, it is also wild and joyful in the way that makes you drop your head and shut your eyes, and you let it move you whatever way it chooses.

You sway and spin, ending up in the center of the crowd, a little too near the band. Feeling unbothered and overly confident after a few drinks, you don't mind the attention this brings until the lead singer starts to sing to you.

Tempting, you'll give him that.

He has big eyes of green, maybe blue? You can't tell, but his dark, messy hair and odd but pretty voice are reeling you in.

You stop yourself with a laugh.

Yep. You sigh with your hand on your hip and watch him for a second. Tempting, but no . You're not here to start trouble tonight, and trouble is what you'll get if you go breaking that rule.

You roll your eyes, playfully turning him down which makes the man laugh as you walk away, letting the beat grab you instead of the stranger. Eventually, familiar hands take your hips from behind, and they are welcome and warm and strong as Zemo pulls you close. His appearance on the temporary dance floor isn't a reaction to your little flirtation with the singer; you can tell by the lack of tension in his body. It's about you —Zemo can't resist you when you're dancing.

With your head back against his chest and shoulder, you let him cradle you as he leads, one hand flat on your stomach, the fingers of his other hand interlacing with yours. You are happy for no other reason than it feels so good to be here with him tonight, and you revel in the peace you've somehow managed to find with him.

Helmut, with his hands that hold too tight and just tight enough, you bite the tip of your tongue with a laugh that flutters up from your belly.

You love him, you love him, you love him…

Eyes closed, you rest in his arms and hands so sure and safe as he holds you and moves with you until, as all good songs do, it ends.

When the next starts, you reluctantly open your eyes and spin around to look at him, and he exhales, looking at you like he was lost in the moment as much as you.

Oh well, this sounds like something you don't want to dance to. Instead, the music brings out a more playful side. It's that or the booze; either way, you give him a look, and he gives you one right back.

His wavering smile shows his conflicting emotions, "Don't!" He warns, raising his finger in your face as he realizes what you have in mind, but you laugh, taunting him in a way that you know will get him to follow because there is one thing that is undeniably true about Helmut Zemo.

To the world, he is a scary, evil man, but he is not that man to you— even as your dom, especially as your dom— he is many things, but a villain is not one of them.

You snicker as you dart off into the crowd...

Early in your time here, you realized that he Helmut is very different from Bucky in the way he moves around the house. He’s got this austere sort of reserved carriage about himself, which he does sometimes in near silence. You rarely hear the man come and go. It took you a while to get used to it. How someone that visually walks so hard can be so quiet is still a mystery to you.

You look back to see that you've lost him among the dancing and drinking. Perfect....

When he's in a bad mood, well, he's quick. Upstairs, downstairs, in one room, and then another cursing and yelling in a stream of romantic Sokovian Serbian, and honestly, he's a kind of bitchy, so you stay out of his way. This all made sense on the yacht of course, you expect this diva-like behavior on a million dollar boat, but you aren't on the yacht anymore. It only took you a week to realize Zemo is just a big, prissy, domineering cat.

So what if he grew up royal? Now he's living among the peasants.

"Excuse me!" You apologize to some girls you run into when you're sure you've spotted him closing in as you try to make your way to the edge of the plaza.

You couldn't help but taunt him mercilessly about it, and then one day, he got tired of your school yard bullying, and the big fucking cat caught you.

He'd tossed you against the wall, declared you his prey, and given you a single rule. You may run, but when he catches you, that's it. Game over.

The only problem with that being you had a tabby growing up; you know exactly what they do to mice.

Your laughter is a mix of arousal and fear. Biting down on your lip to stop your nervous little outbursts, you ignore the way a couple of guys give you the once over to get your attention. For your own good, don't even try.

You escape to the edge where the lights are dimmer and the noise quieter but only just. Glancing back, you don't see Zemo in the crowd at all, so you rush into the mix of columns that line the back of the plaza —the beautiful standing remnants of some historic site in the south's oldest city.

You weave in, out, and around with the music as your soundtrack grinning like a fool because there's nothing better than being caught— except maybe the chase.

Sometimes, when he catches you, he pulls you close by your hair as the other hand closes around your throat, squeezing too tight as he says things to you that you don't understand. When he lets go, the relief is replaced by the threat of his pants being undone which sends you into a frenzy�� you never know if he will let you get off too or punish you for your defiance.

One thing is for certain when you run from him, he always finds you.

Zemo grabs your hand from behind as you try to go back to the tables and dancing, which makes you gasp; the touch of his lips grazes the back of your hand but, you aren't ready to be caught yet.

Quickly you go into the crowd but sneak back out and through the columns again slipping through a gate that opens to a tiny courtyard with an empty fountain where you startle a couple younger than you and Helmut by at least a decade. They look up from their mad attempt to devour one another with their awkward teenage kisses.

You grin down at them, holding a finger to your lips to keep them quiet. The girl smiles and nods understanding. The boy looks you up and down like he wouldn't mind chasing after you too.

Rolling your eyes at the hairless Casanova, you turn to run back out with a grin thinking you're in the clear, only to crash into Zemo's chest. His grip on your wrists is too tight as he pulls your arms down to your sides. You think about breaking free, but the look in his eyes warns you not to try, so you don't fight him.

The girl marvels the back and forth, blushing when Zemo spins with you still in his grasp and pushes you against the entrance wall.

"Still not fast enough, little mouse" Zemo flashes a smile in contrast to the growl of his voice and buries his face in the warmth of your neck, biting, kissing, sucking all at once, and you cannot stop the sound that comes from your mouth.

The boy looks at the girl wondering if he'll ever make her do the same.

When Zemo stands upright, he looks into your eyes. "That's enough." He says and pauses to look you over. "No more running." He strokes the back of his fingers down your face, under your chin, and across your throat. He tickles along the neckline of your dress until you're breathing is as fast as your heartbeat. "Stay." He commands softly.

Zemo turns away and makes the kids leave. He's not mean to them, but he isn't nice either. They get the point and run off to make out somewhere else.

"Hardly seems fair. Scare them off so we can do the same thing," You say, licking your lips in anticipation.

He smiles and takes hold of your face. "First." He says with the most subtle change of inflection in his voice, and you know he's done playing. "Let's go and finish our drinks, and then." He cups your cheek, kisses your forehead, and keeps you pinned to the wall as he whispers in your ear, "You didn't need to play your game to get my attention. I know what it is you want. I want it too. I have since the moment you came down the stairs." He grabs your hip and pushes you back, hard. "You look so fucking beautiful tonight." He says and thrusts up, just a little. "But you understand you're not getting away with that?"

You can feel the familiar shape stiff against you, a promise and a tease of the exhausting night he has planned "Yes Baron." You finally answer into the dark with a fleeting smile. You're certain he is smiling too, even though you can't see him.

Zemo nods, "Good."He says in your ear. "But before you're too busy screaming to speak," His laugh is self aware but cocky, and you drop your forehead to his shoulder with a flush, hiding your face even though no one is looking. He smiles and pulls your hand down. "No, no," He says sweetly. "I'm teasing you, sort of. But, really. Look this way, or you’ll miss it. look there." He points between the two of you still standing in the old gateway.

"What is it?" You frown, distracted by his absolutely devastating... what? Everything? You probably look like a lovesick girl as you lean against the wall gazing at him, but you can't help it.

Zemo, however, seems very keen on the crowd. "Keep looking." He says. "And you'll see. There. Right there. That moment, like a movie. Beautiful yes, but a little out of place, like he should be here, but when you look just a bit closer, it's easy to see—" His words trail as emotion unexpectedly takes his voice, and he stands tall staring across the crowd at someone, "A soldier who lost his way, just waiting for you to guide him home. You see; we almost missed it..."

You glance back at him, thinking it's not possible, but Helmut sees the way you look at him and gives you a reassuring nod to go ahead, so you step away from him towards the busy space, watching as the people come and go.

And just like that, all of the games and nonsense is forgotten.

The passersby reveal again and again, the waiting face you know so well. The face that watches the same people as you, so politely smiling at them though it clearly pains him too. He really doesn't like crowds.

"Bucky." You whisper.

You begin to walk, too afraid to run like he's imaginary and will vanish in a wisp of smoke if you do.

You manage to avoid collision with the folks in the crowd without taking your eyes off him until finally, you're standing close enough that everyone else seems to fade into the background. You move to touch him but stop; you still aren't sure.

Bucky looks at you, his smile genuine now as he reaches out to take your hand, and you feel the warmth and strength of his touch. It's very real and very much here with you, not at all imagined.

"Hey doll." He says and your heart actually flutters. He's never called you that before. "You look incredible." He says, awed by the sight of you. You cover your hands with your mouth to keep in the many, many sounds you want to make and instead take a deep breath. “You’re really here.” You finally manage to say.

He nods fully aware of how you feel, he feels the same way. “I am, I’m here now.”

The sound of his voice is so rich after nothing but a few cold phone calls over the months. You can't find the words to reply, but you feel your smile spread so wide your face aches. You just stand there looking at him until he laughs a little "Did I grow a second head or something?"

"I'm sorry!" You say, feeling your cheeks flush hot "I just can't believe you're… I-I had no idea you were coming!"

"Well, we wanted to surprise you." He says, bringing you just a little closer, looking very proud of himself for pulling it off. Proud, and absolutely gorgeous in this black and white print button-down under his leather jacket and black pants. You wonder if he stopped by the house to pick up an outfit Zemo chose, but something tells you this was all Bucky. A man finding himself, coming into his own after so long. Damn— You can't stop staring at him. It's wild that he looks the exact same and yet completely different. His hair is very short again, he's just gotten it cut for the trip, you realize, and when you look at his lips, your heart damn near breaks to see that soft pout set in his slightly crooked smile. "We?" You finally reply.

Bucky nods behind you.

Helmut is standing there watching you both. The haze of tears in his eyes are not enough to fall but give away his feelings.

"Me and Helmut," He says softly. Bucky's other hand slips around to the small of your back as he turns his attention to you again. "It was my idea not tell you, he gave me a time and place." He says, his gaze wandering over your face before settling on your lips. Bucky lifts your chin tipping your head, and leans in, so happy to kiss you.

His lips are soft, and he tastes exactly as you remember. When he looks at you again, its as though you were never apart, and yet you have so much to talk about. You want to know everything; you want to lay in bed and talk until you fall asleep in his arms, and now you can, now you will.

Bucky. Back where he belongs. You smile and kiss him again because this is the man you have missed and then some…

"James."

Zemo says his name like he did the first time Bucky walked towards him on the yacht.

"Hi." Bucky says with a sigh and flows easily into his arms from yours.

The way they embrace is affectionate as they hold tight to one another until Zemo steps back just enough to see Bucky's face, and Bucky grips the collar of Zemo's shirt. If anyone might question the relationship between them, it's made clear now. Still, you wonder if they are confident enough to kiss publicly, and then you remember who you're dealing with.

Zemo looks into Bucky's eyes and says something very quietly that only Bucky hears and closes the distance. It's quick for them, but the sight of their lips touching, their bodies pressed close and eyes closed… it all pulls you back into your life during those two magical weeks.

They break away, and Bucky's the teary eyed one now. He looks at you with a sigh, his black and gold hand hidden by a glove taking Zemo's.

"How long will you stay?" You ask.

"A week." He says, looking Zemo up and down and then back to you.

"Not long enough. But I'll take it." You say and grab his jacket to kiss him again, just a quick one. "Now, would you like a drink? They've got something here strong enough that might actually give you a buzz" You grin.

He laughs and shrugs. "I doubt that but sure. That sounds nice."

"I'll be right back!" You practically skip off to the stand selling alcohol.

When you come back with three small glasses and hand them over, you all raise them and, for the first time since the last, look at the two men you love standing together and finish the drink that burns like fire.

"Welcome home," Zemo says with a smile for Bucky, who can't seem to stop looking from him to you.

"It's so good to be back. And it seems I'm in time to enjoy the new look." He says, nodding towards the Baron's face.

"What do you think?" Zemo asks, running his hand over his chin.

Bucky looks around like he might scandalize the few old ladies still out, "I know the French aren't as uptight about this stuff as others, but I'll keep my opinion in the bedroom" He says with a quick at Zemo.

Oh Bucky, you facepalm— always the gentleman

At some point, you're certain the dancing draws too much attention. It's the way they spin you back and forth between them, the way you float effortlessly from one man to the other, a mess of laughter as you dance together. And when the three of you come close, and they touch, well…

"Let's be a little less conspicuous," Zemo says with a sleepy grin as he gently pulls Bucky's hand from his face.

"Yeah. That." Bucky agrees. The drink might not have worked on him, but the two of you are intoxicating.

"I promise at some point we will sit and talk for hours, but right now, I want this." You tell him, and Bucky playfully rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I know how you are." He says, "But, I think Helmut might be right."

You look around and see more people watching the three of you. Not good. But you're stubborn. "Two more songs?" You whine, waving to a table of men and women who wave back, shouting out catcalls and whistles but can you blame them? You laugh and shake your head, turning your back on them.

"That's enough," Zemo says, smiling at the table of admirers with his arm around you. "Come on, let's leave before people start to realize who our dance partner is."

"Fine! Just one ." You say as if this is somehow a solution and move to go back to dancing, but with ease, Bucky grabs you by the legs, picking you straight up like a well-dressed log to haul you away, and all you can do is squeal with delighted protest.

Zemo saunters behind, tossing out warnings to be quiet in between his own laughter.

“What do you think? Beach?” Bucky asks walking backwards for a second with you still held high on his shoulder in one arm, and not the super human metal option either.

Zemo steps up at his side with a nod and smile, his hand on Bucky’s back, “A perfect way to end the night and start your trip.”

It's a very short walk across the street to the beach where the crowds have all but gone, and Bucky sets you down, immediately chasing you around in the sand when you take a playful swing at him for making you leave.

"Stop!" You scream at him, his eyes sparkling in the dark, looking like a hunter— like a wolf.

He grins and lunges for you, easily pulling you in to spin you around, and you both fall over— you laughing so hard you can't breathe and him soaking in the sound.

You're just on the edge of drunk, Bucky's happy, Helmut is, well he's both, and he watches, a hand in his pocket, the other still holding a glass that's just ice now as he looks up at the dark sky.

"Who'd you have to lie to this time?" You ask on your back, looking up at Bucky.

"No one, really. Not that many people left to care," He answers with his arms around his knees.

"That can't be true." You say feeling sad.

"It's okay; it's better that way, makes it easy to sneak off."

You grin. "Well, we'll have to come back during the day so you can see the beach. It's really beautiful actually. Now that you're home, you should enjoy it."

He makes a funny face. "This is vacation. Home is loud cars, pollution, and Sam bugging me all the time. You know that. Also, there's no way this is real life. It's too perfect. The everyday grind is very boring. Especially without you two in it." He says, looking down at you on your back.

You smile, but his words feel strange. "You think so?"

"Of course."

"But, Bucky… we are your life. The other stuff is just a long interruption."

You see Zemo turn; that must have gotten his attention. He comes over, and Bucky looks up at him.

"This week will be whatever you need it to be, James." He says, and you wonder what conversations they've had without you. Has New York been that hard for him? You'll find out soon enough, at least you hope so.

"Have you been eating okay? Sleeping in a bed?" You prod.

He laughs and rests back on his elbows. "Yeah, ma. Three square meals a day." Comes his sarcasm.

You give his arm a jab with your elbow. "I worry; what can I say."

"I know. But I've kept myself alive all these years. I think I'll keep going a few more."

"Without me, you mean?"

"That's not what I mean at all." He says to you. He sounds surprised you would suggest it.

Zemo says your name with a warning tone. "Don't make this about you. James has only just arrived. You don't know what it took for him to get here. Please. One night and then you can give him all the shit you want."

"Seriously?" You roll your eyes.

"Seriously."

You look from one face to the other, and as much as you hate to admit it, he's sort of right. You don't want to argue or change the tone. "Fine. Again, I just want to make sure you're doing okay over there."

"I know. I'm not mad at you for it. Not at all. It's nice to have someone who cares so much. Or should I say two someones?" He says, looking up again.

Zemo's tough exterior fades quickly, letting his love for Bucky show in a single look.

"Ah shit,"

They both turn to you.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair for days, and I just got it done this week."

Bucky laughs, ignoring your interruption, "Well, we can't have that." He says and stands, helping you up next. Very quickly, you're turned around and he begins to brush the soft granules from you, top to bottom. He does his best to clean you off, but the man has not touched you or anyone in six months. By the time he gets to your ass, he's hopeless. You can feel how his movements slow, how his hand smooths over the curve instead of brushing, and you look back over your shoulder to see his eyes linger on your butt in this dress, which makes you chuckle. His eyelids grow heavy as he frowns a little, dusting your thigh. Poor thing.

"Your turn." You say, nodding with your chin and your eyes meet. Bucky's expression doesn't change at all. He turns reluctantly so that you can do the same for him.

Thankfully he kept the jacket on —it's easy to brush sand from leather— but that doesn't do anything to stop you from feeling his body beneath. Your hands slow as much as his did on you.

Startling you, Bucky turns and pulls you in close; the heat from him is like a furnace, his blue eyes look from yours to your lips as he keeps you held tight.

Helmut is strong, so strong, but Bucky is unmatched.

"It's been a while. Is it all right if I…" He glances down at how he's got you in his arms, not an inch of wiggle room.

"Please. Yes." You say with breathy enthusiasm.

"Do the same rules apply?" Bucky asks Zemo while staring at you. Memories of every time you've been together are so clearly flashing through his mind, just as they are through yours.

"Of course." The Baron replies off to the side.

Bucky's jaw tightens, and he looks away with a quick blow of frustration, like maybe he doesn’t want rules tonight, but in your eyes, he will find solidarity, the same that you’ve given since Madripoor before he’d even been touched by Zemo— and of course desire.

And from Helmut who is as always patient and understanding he’ll get whatever he wants and needs. If he doesn’t want this, then it won’t happen. All he has to do is say so. He will still be loved.

You can see him thinking, about what you can’t say exactly, but it doesn’t take very long. "Good" He says and turns to you pressing his forehead to yours.

And then he's reaching for Helmut, grabbing for him and pulling him close. "And do I still call you Baron?" He asks with a very wicked smile.

Only Zemo's is not as playful.

"James, you can call me whatever you want so long as you're here when you do." He answers.

Bucky sighs softly as their lips meet, and that kiss under the safety of night and away from the crowd is the culmination of waiting six long months to freely have one another again.

You watch full lips press firm, tongues swirl, and mouths open as though they might bite.

When Zemo pulls back, Bucky chases after him, his lips parted and so hungry for more. "But then again, I do love the way you sound when you say it." Zemo says and returns that coy smile.

Bucky hangs his head with a laugh; he should have known better. No way was Zemo giving up his control that easily.

He steps back letting Bucky's hand fall from his own and looks you both over.

It just feels so right to be like this again —the three of you together— you and Bucky waiting, silently pleading for the green light as Zemo watches. Because truth be told, as much as you want to reconnect and hear about everything, mostly you want to rip his clothes off and ride this man until dawn.

You look at Bucky just as handsome and dangerous and sweet as ever, and you can already taste the salt of his naked skin, and feel the scratch of his stubble on your softest parts. You know the weight of his solid muscle when he lays over you and how he feels once he’s finally inside…

You realize Bucky is staring at you the same way, and you both turn to look at Helmut with the same lust blown eyes that make him laugh into the wind.

"Just ask," Zemo says shaking his head with a shrug as if the answer to the question is so obvious.

Bucky holds you with one arm and reaches for Zemo with the other. "Will you take me home?"

Zemo steps forward and grabs his hand. "Of course, James. Let's go."

“Stop”

You've both heard his command, but how can you.

Bucky's fingers dig into your hips, his hold on you painful as he groans, forcing himself to stop the thrusting that would probably have seen him finish.

You can't control any of it; just helplessly stand there, bound at the wrist with your palms pressed to the edge of the dressing table in the bedroom as you look back over your shoulder at Zemo.

He's still lying back in bed as he has been for a while, doing nothing more than enjoying the show.

"I'm going to watch. I've waited so long to see that beautiful cock ruin her."

And that's exactly what he's been doing. Letting you both get so close. Torturing you together.

You turn your head away to look at Bucky in the small mirror, ignoring your own reflection as you breathe in and out around the leather strap in your mouth. It's not as intense as the ball gag Zemo's used on you before, but tonight you're actually thankful for it. This gives you something to bite down on without being overwhelming— like Helmut's leather glove in the tiny Manhattan dressing room.

Bucky's face is hard to read right now, but you know it's only because he's trying not to think. One thought of how wet and tight you are, how good your body feels in his hands, and it's all over. You understand. Funny though after six months, you thought there might have been a chance he'd like to ease his way back into this, but the second the three of you got in the door, he'd flung his jacket aside, picked you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed you hard before grabbing Helmut by the collar.

Had he decided to take the lead? You'd wondered. Would he even be allowed?

Zemo's smile seemed to understand his intensity, but the Baron had remained unfazed and looked into the desperate eyes of the soldier with nothing but love as he gently pulled Bucky's hand away, his head tilt showing how amused he was by Bucky's brazen affection.

No one would be changing the hierarchy tonight, but it was sexy as hell.

"What would you like us to do—Baron?" Bucky'd asked as he sat you down but kept you close to show that he was more than ready to resume his role. He craved it.

Zemo's eyes had gone a terrifying shade of dark that had you so wet you were practically purring. He kissed Bucky's cheek, which only stoked the flames, and slipped past the two of you going into the sitting room off the entrance to the villa.

You'd both followed unsure at first, and it'd been you who realized why he hadn't said anything yet. Of course .

You'd stepped out of your shoes —a cute little pair of Balmain slingbacks— and went closer, slowly lowering onto your knees, head down. You could feel Bucky watching and then came the heat of his body beside you as he followed your lead just as he'd done on the ship.

Zemo was sitting in one of the leather reading chairs, one leg crossed casually over the other. You knew what he was doing. He wanted this moment to just look, to observe, and commit it to memory.

You had been enough, you will always be enough, but with Bucky here now…

He made the moment last until you heard him sigh like he used to on the yacht before speaking.

Zemo uncrossed his legs, moved to the edge of the chair, and reached out to Bucky taking first his face and then his throat in hand as he spoke so softly. "Take her upstairs. Strip her. Cuff her. Collar her and put her in the corner for me; she'll show you which. You will remain clothed and wait on the bed— I will undress you myself."

You'd actually shivered with your breath and Bucky's eyes closed as he gave his "yes Baron" like he'd been waiting all six months to be told what to do.

When Zemo let go, Bucky looked at you and you at him, and the two of you smiled like you were finally exactly where you wanted to be.

Bucky stood and helped you to your feet. With the instructions clear now, all he had to do was follow you up the front stairwell which he'd done without stopping.

By the time you'd come into the bedroom it was obvious that he was in fact so ready to jump back into this life he'd lost all sense of hesitancy. In fact, you'd wondered if he'd ever really been shy about it at all by the way he came sauntering up to you and pulled your dress off.

"Where is everything?" He'd asked once you were down to your underwear and he'd pushed you onto the bed.

"In that top drawer," You'd told him, your knees rocking back and forth as you watched him walk away.

"Nice house by the way," He'd said, tossing a smile back at you as he went.

"Another one of his many surprises." You'd said, biting your lip with anticipation.

Bucky worked quickly tonight. He came back with the items in his fist and had you naked and done up as Zemo had requested in a matter of minutes.

"Which corner?" He’d asked, his voice husky as he looked you over. It was fun, honestly. You liked the way he looked at you when he wasn't allowed to touch, and it'd been so long since anyone but Zemo looked, you didn't mind at all.

"That one." You'd said, nodding towards the far right between the windows and the master bath door.

Resisting better than you'd imagined he'd be able to, Bucky pulled you along by your restraints and kissed the back of your head as he shoved you into it before going to sit on the edge of the bed himself.

Then came the silence.

When the door opened, you'd jumped. You didn't even know it could open like it did when Zemo came charging in. He'd gone right past Bucky and brought another level of intensity with him and straight to you.

From his pocket, he'd pulled the leather bit, and you'd seen the way he'd enjoyed your groan when he came up behind you and told you to open your mouth. "You'll be thankful for it. Trust me." He'd said.

He'd been right.

You'd only recently added the use of an anal plug to sex. It was a lot, but he was very good at easing you into it. Tonight after fixing the bit in your mouth, he'd gone to the drawer and pulled the perfectly made spade-shaped glass toy from its box and come back to you.

"Green?" He checked in.

You'd nodded, and he'd smiled quickly, going around behind you.

Currently, Bucky is clenching his jaw with his head back sort of humming, but not a song; he doesn't want to stop, quite the opposite. Neither do you even though this is truly agonizing. You moan against the leather in your mouth, feeling the cool air against your teeth as you inhale deeply and clench.

The smooth, warm glass fills you. It doesn't hurt; it just makes the orgasm denial so much harder to control. Bucky can feel your pussy pulsing, trying not to drag the orgasm from him, and he looks down, waiting for Zemo to tell him he can continue, his eyes settling just below the small of your back. You know what he sees.

That shining flat circle of black glass, the stopper, so pretty and smooth between your cheeks, an indication of what's happening deep inside of you.

Earlier, before the fucking started, you'd stood there, pushed against the wall looking at him as Zemo dropped a little warm lube on the small end and told you to spread your legs.

Your sounds had alternated between pleasure and pain, long breaths against the bit in your mouth, and short quick gasps as you kept your eyes on Bucky, curious as to what he might think— he of all people knew what it felt like. You did not turn away, and his eyes were heavy with the look of lusty understanding.

And then, with Zemo slowly working the toy back and forth and then— all the way— the small but for you, intense pressure of it popped inside, swallowed up by the muscles that squeezed and sent you into a small fit of moans.

Pleased, Zemo pulled you up to kiss you and touch you between your legs, enough to calm you. "Wait." He'd said, putting your nose in the corner.

You were not allowed to look. You could only listen. By the time Bucky was making as much noise as you'd been, he was told to come and fuck you and fuck you he had. That felt like so long ago.

You'd give anything to come.

"What do you think? The view is good, isn't it?" Zemo asks, sliding from the bed to stand and strip away the last of his own clothes. You watch him step out of his impossibly expensive briefs in the mirror, stroking his already rock hard length as he walks over, eyes on you both.

Bucky can hardly answer, but you feel him press the stopper, his thumb circling the plug, and you give a surprised moan and gasp, gripping the table again.

Zemo comes close to Bucky but reaches for the bottle that he'd used on the dildo first. "Almost as good as the feel," He says and rubs his cheek on Bucky's warm shoulder, only to turn his face and bite down, making Bucky grit his teeth and groan, but he does not cry out.

You rise up to watch, feeling dizzy after a long night of drinking and the energy spent already but to see him like this again gives you all the energy you need. You'd forgotten what it's like to submit when there is someone to share it with.

They are stunning behind you. With his eyes closed, Bucky lays his head back and leans towards Helmut, who slides his empty hand across Bucky's muscled stomach in a slow music-less dance.

You see him open his eyes and find yours over Bucky's shoulder. You hold your breath; your heart pounds. His eyes look so dark, and neither of you looks away as Bucky's face quickly changes and Helmuts other hand comes reaching over his shoulder.

Bucky's gro an is awful at first. You are pushed forward an inch or two but you do not look away.

Bucky's hand leaves your hip to grab the table. You worry he'll break it. His lips part, his mouth opens then, just a deep inhale. He holds you tighter with the other arm; he is sure not to hurt you even though it hurts him, but with his eyes closed, he smiles, and now so do you.

There is a pause and then Helmut's single thrust into Bucky that is sudden like all he wants is to just be inside of him, and you feel it, moaning like you've been speared as you're shoved into the table.

Helmut grips Bucky’s shoulder and moans loudly against his back and Bucky opens his eyes. You raise your head and you find one another in the mirror, the way you both bounce forward together something you haven’t seen in so long. And then Bucky runs his hand up your back and into your hair, looks at you like he's sorry, and bends you over. And you… you just shut your eyes, bite down, and take it.

#winterbaron #zemo x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #poly romance #winterbaron x you #baron zemo fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #zemo fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #fluff and smutt #smutt and fluff #mostly just smutt #but all the romance

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