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#sharon's ask and replies
axysbbygurl · 2 years
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For being so nice🎀 and cute😚, copy this to other bloggers that you think are wonderful. 💗Keep the GAME going and make others feel beautiful❤️
thank you love!!! also i shall return thee the favor & send him right back at you...😌🖤
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simmerandcry · 2 years
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fanfic writer ?s | 9 for 'a very thin line'
E, thank you so much friend!!
9. If you had to assign a theme song to A Very Thin Line, which would you assign? 
Aww this made me go back and re-read that one and… now I want to write a Sam/Sharon follow up!! And this is a good question - I think I would go with Get Yourself Together by The Black Keys
I'll go, I'll go wherever you go / Don't care, I'm here, I want you to know Don't mind, we'll make time and take it real slow / I'll go, I'll go wherever you go I'm with you, whatever you do
You gotta get yourself together babe / Try to keep it cool You wanna make it last forever maybe / Get behind the new
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shermerclassclown · 1 year
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@marvariants said (Sharon): “Have you ever heard of SHIELD?”
A frown fell upon the redhead's face when she heard this. She hadn't really heard of a lot of things, given her line of work. This was
"As in a metal object that protects you from harm? Yes," she answered. "Is that what you mean?"
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navybrat817 · 6 months
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Where Did the Time Go?
Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.
But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.
“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.
But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?
“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”
“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”
“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”
“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”
You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.
Until you weren’t.
Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”
“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.
You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”
The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”
You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”
The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.
“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”
The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”
“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.
“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”
Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.
“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”
There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.
“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.
“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”
Not even close.
“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”
Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?
You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”
Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”
Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”
“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”
Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.
Where the hell did he get that impression?
“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”
Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.
“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.
“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”
“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”
What is he talking about?
“I don’t understand,” you said.
“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”
“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”
And can we come back from it?
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That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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sweetbbarnes · 10 months
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Jealous
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TFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky had no idea you could get so jealous over him. He’s not complaining, though.
Warnings: nothing much, jealous!reader, mentions of reader being insecure about herself (no body descriptions except from a part where it says that reader has calloused/scarred hands), a tiny hint at reader and Bucky having sex (you have to squint)
A/N: PLS I have nothing against long pink nails that’s actually how my nails are right now
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY STORIES TRANSLATED, COPIED OR POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE/APP/ACCOUNT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.
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You have absolutely no right to feel like this.
The almost unbearable pang in your chest grows sharper and sharper as you observe the vibrant red lipstick luring Bucky into a conversation that leaves you to wonder what could be so intriguing. Oh, I actually know what’s so intriguing, you think to yourself as your eyes dart over her too revealing outfit. Talking, talking, talking. You summon the word like a mantra, repeating it over and over again in your mind, desperately trying to convince yourself that everything is fine. They’re just talking, right? So what if her hand and her stupidly long pink nails are strategically resting on his chest? What does it matter if she’s wiggling her hips all the time to show off? Everybody does that, it means nothing!
“You okay there, kid?” Sam asks, concerned, using the old nickname even though he knows you’re a little too far from being a kid now. “You look like you want to murder someone”
You shift the gaze towards your friend, attempting a smile that could honestly be mistaken with a grimace. “Just tired.” Your reply is barely audible over the unnecessarily loud music pulsating through Sharon’s mansion. They’re just talking.
“I must say,” Zemo unfortunately started with his infuriatingly smug grin “I never took you for a jealous woman”
“Jealous?” Sam repeated the infamous word, a little confused.
“Shut up, Zemo.” You reply dryly, shooting the man a glare that would make Bucky proud, if only he was paying attention to you and not some random woman’s boobs.
“She’s jealous of the pretty lady who’s captivating her soldier’s attention.” Zemo annoyingly elucidates the situation to Sam.
You watch, tortured, as Sam’s confused expression morphs into one of understanding as he gives Zemo a knowing look. “Y/n, if you’re-”
“I am not jealous and he is not ‘my soldier’.” You snap, your words coming out a little louder than you intended. Feeling frustrated in front of the truth Zemo just shoved at your face, you storm off towards the bar and ask the bartender for a beer.
You’re trying to ignore it. You really are. But your eyes can’t seem to abandon the enchanting figure across the room. She’s tall, stunning, feminine. Her skin is probably soft, void of the calluses and scars that mark your own — you wonder if Bucky can feel the softness through his shirt where she’s touching. She walks around in a piece of cloth that leaves too little to the imagination as if she fucking owns the place. Her lipstick matches so perfectly with her skin tone that if you didn’t know better you'd think she invented the color red. Every single aspect of her mere existence seems particularly designed to piss you off - but that could just be because her taste in men is pretty similar to yours. And there stands Barnes, wearing that infuriatingly sweet smirk of his, clearly enjoying the attention.
He can flirt with pretty girls. You tell yourself, trying to see things through a logical lens. He's a single, independent, free man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. 
That much is true. To some extent.
See, he is single, and independent, and free. The only problem is, he had been flirting with you for the past two weeks — ever since Sam called you asking for help with the flagsmashers and Barnes forced his way into the situation. Or at least, you thought he was flirting. You could’ve read too much into his actions. But then again, if you were overanalyzing it, so were Sam and Zemo, because they just won’t stop teasing you about it.
Out of the two, Sam’s teases are the worst, of course. The damn asshole knows all too well that you had been pinning over Barnes since the day you helped save him years ago, back when everything was simpler. But then Wakanda happened, followed by Thanos, the blip, and the soul-wrecking taste of losing Bucky — and everyone else — for good. Then he came back, and now here you are, still hopelessly infatuated with the same dude.
Only now things are a little bit different. Because he had been gone, and in the time he was away, you had aged five years. He no longer addresses you as "kid," and you’re pretty sure you had caught him stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking. Glances that resemble the way a man looks at a woman. Or so you desperately hoped thought. But all those fragile beliefs are now on the verge of shattering as you watch him giving the pretty lady a look that threatens to extinguish every ounce of hope you still hold onto.
"For someone who claims she's not jealous, you sure seem to be," Sam playfully mocks, breaking the silence as he sits in the barstool next to you.
You let out a heavy sigh. "Don't start."
"Are you going over there?" Sam asks nonchalantly.
"And say what? Hey, Barnes, I know we don't have anything and I have absolutely no right to be jealous, but could you please stop flirting with pretty women when I'm around? It really fucking stings?"
"It's a start," Sam shrugs.
You scoff, grabbing another beer from the bartender.
"If you're not willing to resolve it, at least stop glaring at the woman like you want to decapitate her," Zemo, much to your annoyance, joins the conversation.
"Since when do you care?" you retort, irritated with the audacity of this man.
"I don't. Just trying to be helpful," Zemo replies casually.
"Well, you're not," you roll your eyes.
"Although,” he adds after a moment of much appreciated silence, “if you're genuinely jealous, I suggest you don’t look now."
The smartass knows exactly how to get under your skin.
Shifting your gaze to where Bucky stands allowing himself to be drawn by cheap men-hooking techniques, your mouth suddenly dries. Planted far too close for your liking, the woman seductively whispers something right next to his ear as her hand caresses his bicep.
He’s not mine, you remind yourself, desperately trying to push the jealousy that threatens to consume you.
He doesn't owe me anything, you reason, the logical side of your brain trying to establish control.
I don’t have the right to feel like this. You shove your half done bottle into Sam’s chest, who holds it with an exasperated look directed at you.
I have absolutely no right to be jealous. You scold yourself as your legs start moving of their own accord, marching towards the pair.
You're nothing to him, you repeat in your mind, determination guiding your steps. When they finally notice your presence, it’s too late. You had already positioned yourself between them, fully facing Bucky.
"Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation," the pretty lady interjects, her tone doesn’t hold any particular hostility but her words irritate you nonetheless. How dare she flirt with your man?!
You turn your head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in a display of unimpressed indifference, before decisively returning your attention to Bucky. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him closer and fervently press your lips against his.
Startled by your sudden attitude, he takes a few moments to fully register what the hell is going on, but as you refuse to back down, he slowly encircles his metal arm around your waist, raising his other hand to your cheek so he can hold your face and properly kiss the woman he’s been head over heels for since he came back to his senses when Steve saved him.
As Bucky deepens the kiss, taunting your parted lips with the tip of his tongue, the world around you fades into insignificance. The pent-up emotions, the frustration, the longing, and the overwhelming uncertainty, everything melts away in the intensity of the moment. Time stands still as you grant him full access to your mouth, both your stubborn natures fighting to dominate and control the kiss.
Realizing you need oxygen to survive, you release your grip on Bucky's collar, breaking the kiss but keeping your eyes locked with his. The unspoken words and long cultivated desires building up a tension one could cut with a knife.
The soldier's piercing gaze searches for yours, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something else flickering within the depths of his ocean blue eyes. Without actually thinking about what he’s doing, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, you don’t dare say a word, the gravity of the situation sinking in, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the newfound territory you had just barged your way in.
But obviously, because Bucky is Bucky and you are you, that signature smirk of his slowly starts to show itself, and you somehow know what’s about to come.
“Well, darlin’, if that’s what you do when you get all riled up, I should probably find some more ladies to flirt with.” He teases, lightly squeezing your waist.
“Don’t push it, Barnes.” You fake scold, trying to hold back a smirk of your own.
He lowers his head until his lips are right next to you ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath as he speaks, “though if I got this attitude whenever you make me jealous, dollface, I have a feeling we’d be kissing a lot more”
A delicious shiver runs down your spine as you tease.”You keep the sweet talk, Sarge, and we’re gonna end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom.”
Well, you did end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom. And the bathroom. And the kitchen. And every single room in his apartment after you went back home. But that’s a story for another time.
Bonus:
Sam scowls as he watches the pretty lady storm away from you two, reaching his back pocket to get Zemo’s twenty dollars.
“I hope you know this is the last time I make a bet with you.” Sam mumbles, displeased, sipping the beer he knows very damn well you won’t be coming back to get.
Zemo shrugs nonchalantly, tucking away the money both of them know he doesn’t really need, but holds immense satisfaction as it represents his symbolic triumph over the bet. He smirks. "I must remind you, I did mention I could be quite persuasive."
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masterlist
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warriorofthought · 3 days
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I did love you, always!
Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.
Word count: 3103
Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings 
Winter Soldier x Reader
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You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.
You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.
"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.
"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.
"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”
"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.
He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him. 
You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now. 
You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse. 
He walks up to you. 
"What did you say?”
"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.
"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.
"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.
He stares at you and seems to be thinking. 
His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset. 
Then he sighs.
"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset." 
He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.
"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”
"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.
"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.
"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”
"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.
"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her." 
Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.
You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.
"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now. 
"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me." 
Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.
"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared."  You say gentle.  " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together." 
He stays silent for a bit. 
"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice. 
"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.” 
You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.
He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does. 
He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this. 
But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)
Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to. 
The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting. 
Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.
"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.
Sam shrug his shoulders .
"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."
You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.
"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."
"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.
Sam sights too.
"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.
"This time it's different because of... You know..."
"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.
"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"
Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."
You sigh " I will handle that."
Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.
The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.
Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.
"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.
The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."
Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.
"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"
The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.
You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.
He raises his voice.
"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."
You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.
You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.
You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.
"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.
His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...
He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.
You can feel his warmth and his closeness.
Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...
"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.
He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.
Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.
This time Sharon starts to mock you.
She points at you and laughs.
"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.
"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.
Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.
You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.
Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.
"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"
“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”
She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.
You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…
Sharon laughs again.
"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."
You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.
The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.
Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.
The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm. 
His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen. 
Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.
Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.
The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter. 
You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you. 
By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.
The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky. 
You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.
Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.
The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.
"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.
The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.
He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once. 
Then he finally speaks.
"We're going home.”
"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.
"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.
He focuses on flying the helicopter. 
"Home, and then we'll talk.”
Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)
The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse. 
This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.
He turns around to look at you. 
"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you. 
He is still in control, not Bucky.
So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you. 
"I wanted to apologize…”
"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”
He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say. 
You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.
Then he replies.
"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”
You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.
You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.
"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”
His expression softens even more as you cup his face. 
He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline. 
He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.
His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.
He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.
He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…
"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.
The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly. 
You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.
His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.
"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”
He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.
Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.
He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you. 
But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side. 
"I love you too..." he whispers.
Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.
And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving. 
He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass. 
He's holding you, so close and protecting you.
He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.
“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.”  his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You hug him back and softly pet his back.
“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.
He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.
He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come. 
He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.
His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.
"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”
His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you. 
"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..." 
He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed. 
Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now. 
His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…
"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.
He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear. 
"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."
He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore. 
This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.
"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”
“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?” 
You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.
You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.
324 notes · View notes
jesterlaughingstock · 2 years
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You are appreciated
no offense but like, stuff like this doesn't work (anymore at least). it's just so insincere. i mean thanks i guess for the effort, but I know you're lying
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kinanabinks · 6 months
Text
deadly nightshade • two
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18+
months after operation musket, you're growing fidgety. why is bucky denying you after showing you a whole new world of pleasure? you decide to try a new way to get his attention, and it involves a certain blond-haired super soldier.
content warning: bucky x f!agent!reader, mature themes, angst, pining, cheating, fingering, semi-public smut, dom!bucky, objectification, reader and bucky are TERRIBLE with no redeeming factors.
< part one
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Funnily enough, since graduating to Agent, you've been spending less time with the Avengers than when you were a trainee.
You've been trusted on your own with missions in the months that have passed since you qualified, which you're glad for. Most of your colleagues don't have your respect and you can get things done much quicker when you're alone.
"So, I'm sure it's with no surprise, that the award for Most Promising New Recruit goes to Y/N," Nick Fury announces into the microphone, causing most people in the hall to burst into cheers and applause.
You wince slightly, not really a fan of being in the limelight, but you swallow down your nerves and make your way to the stage. Nick places the white badge onto your uniform, and you give him a nod. "Thank you, Sir," You say firmly.
"Keep doing what you're doing, kid," He says patting your shoulder as you walk past him and back off the stage again.
You make your way straight to the bar, not even realizing Bucky's standing there until you get there.
Without saying a word to him, you give the bartender your order. The tension is palpable - at least, on your end. When you and Bucky agreed that Russia never happened, you didn't think he'd actually stay true to his word. You assumed you'd spend a few days apart, acting normal, and then he'd find himself unable to keep his hands off you and drag you into a closet or keep you behind after a meeting.
But he didn't.
He watched on as you qualified for Agent, barely even giving you a congratulatory word, saw as you rose through the ranks, past your more senior colleagues, and hasn't so much as brushed past you.
You suppose it's a good thing he hasn't. You wouldn't have been able to focus so hard on your work and been the youngest person to ever earn the title Special Agent if Bucky had been distracting you, so you're grateful to him for leaving you alone.
"Well done, rookie," His voice chimes out from beside you and takes you by surprise.
Turning to look up at him, you raise a brow. Flashes of the night in Russia fly through your head and you do your best to ignore them. "Thanks," Is your stoic reply. He's given you next to nothing for the past four months, so why should you give him anything?
"I didn't think it would, but it looks good on you," He begins. "Special Agent. You know it took Sharon three years to get that?"
"I'm not Sharon," You remind him, before narrowing your eyes. "You didn't think excelling in my field would look good on me?"
Is that why he's been avoiding you? Do you no longer attract him because you're no longer a fresh-faced trainee, willing to do whatever he says? Was it truly just the power play that got him hard for you - was he just getting off on how in control he was?
"I didn't mean it like that," He says, seeing the cogs turn in your head. "Don't spin this into something dark - I'm happy for you."
"So, what did you mean by that?" You push, not willing to let him off so easily. "You didn't think a young trainee would still be attractive once she qualified? How am I supposed to take that?"
"You're supposed to take it in the way that most of the Special Agents here are some of the most boring, to-the-books people I've worked with," He explains. "Sticklers for rules."
"Who says I'm not a stickler for rules?" You ask with a raised brow. "You haven't been on a mission with me since- since I qualified."
There's a sparkle in his eye when he replies. "Rules aren't something you're exactly notorious for following, rookie."
You take your drink from the bartender and turn to leave while uttering, "I'm not your rookie anymore."
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The words he said to you that night still echo in your mind. The utter filth he whispered into your ear, the dark promises he made, the post-orgasm secrets he spilled.
"There's nothing like some healthy competition," Maria says as she stands at your desk. "Fight for it."
"Are you kidding?" Jenn asks her with a raised brow. "You want us to fight for a mission?"
You're pulled from your thoughts - memories of Russia - and plunged into the present. Maria came out to the bullpen and offered you a mission. Well, offered you and Jenn a mission.
"You're both capable, but it only needs one agent," Maria states while the others begin to listen in. "And I can't decide which of you should have it. Jenn, this would be a good boost in your journey to Special Agent. And Y/N, it would be good for you to add this to your repertoire."
"I think me hitting Special is a little more important than Y/N's repertoire," Jenn challenges with a quirked brow. She's grown a lot more confident since making agent, and seems to think she's untouchable. Then again, becoming the youngest ever Special Agent definitely gave you a confidence boost, too.
If it was anyone else, you'd sit back and let them have it. But Jenn's had a stick up her ass and has hated you since the day you met, so you're feeling petty.
"Y/N, your response?" Maria asks, secretly loving the competition between you. "Why should I give you this mission?"
You stand up from your chair and reply bluntly, "Because I'm better than Agent Curson."
A few gasps and stifled laughs are heard around the bullpen, but you keep your face straight. Jenn lets out a scoff. "You're such a fucking narcissist," She utters bitterly.
"It's factually correct that I'd get this mission done more efficiently and to a better quality than you," You say plainly, sick of her shit. "That's not narcissistic; it's realistic."
"Come on, Y/N," Landon says from behind you with a wince. "You're just being mean, now."
"Am I?" You question, taken aback by his words.
"Agent Hill, you know I respect every decision you make," Jenn begins. "But the only reason Y/N made Special so quickly is because she's friends with the Avengers. The rest of us are just as skilled as her."
"What are you talking about?" You ask her with a frown. "The fuck do the Avengers have to do with anything?"
"Oh, please!" She cries. "You leech onto their missions whatever chance you get-"
"That's enough, agents," Maria says lowly.
"I get assigned onto their missions; that's out of my control," You remind Jenn coldly. "The only one I sometimes say fucking 'hi' to while passing by is Steve, so how I'm friends with the Avengers is beyond me!"
"Oh, you're only friends with Captain fucking America?" She shoots back. "Some of us haven't even met him yet!"
"How is that my fault?" You yell.
"That is enough!" Maria cuts in curtly, shutting you both up before she turns to Landon. "Agent Croft, I'm assigning you to the mission. The rest of you, get on with your work."
You and Jenn continue to glare at each other for a few short moments before you grab your phone and turn to leave.
"You can deny it all you want," Jenn suddenly mumbles, making you stop in your tracks. She looks down at you, a cold look in her eyes. "I know something happened between you and Sergeant Barnes in Russia."
Your heart lurches up into your throat. "What?" You sputter. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I'm a very perceptive person. He barely even looks at you anymore, and he rarely ever left you alone before Russia," She says with a dirty look. "Probably regrets cheating on his girlfriend with such a piece of trash-"
"You have no fucking idea what you're talking about," You tell her coldly.
"Sure, I don't," She cuts in with a smirk. "But you do, don't you? You fucked him, didn't you? Slut."
You push her backwards and she's quick to retaliate, grabbing your arm and twisting it. A few punches and kicks are thrown between you before you're pulled away from her, by none other than Nick Fury. Fuck.
"What in God's name are you two doing?" He asks you both with rage in his eyes.
"Sorry, Director Fury," You say through deep breaths. "We were just training."
"Yeah, fucking right," He mutters bitterly, releasing your arm as he glares at you both. "Any more of that shit and you'll both be on desk-duty for three months. Got it?"
"Yes, Director Fury," You and Jenn say in unison.
He leaves with a huff. You walk away from Jenn, not trusting yourself to keep your hands off her if she makes another comment.
How the fuck could she have noticed something went on in Russia? Is she truly that good of an agent that she noticed the difference in yours and Bucky's relationship? Sure, he's barely said a word to you when usually he's all over you, but you didn't think anyone else besides you would have realized.
Fucking Jenn.
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Ever since you were made Special Agent, you can't deny you've felt a little different. As though you should take your job more seriously - which has meant turning down invitations to drinks, and nights out, and office parties. When Steve gave you a pout and said nobody should spend New Year's alone, though, you couldn't help but agree to attend the company-wide party being thrown at HQ. In fact, even some of the employees from Stark Industries are here, including a certain Sergeant's girlfriend.
As soon as the expensive whiskey hits your tongue, you internally thank Steve for dragging you along. Though you aren't a fan of the way a few of the trainees are looking at you as though they only just realized you have tits, it's nice to see everyone who you don't always get the chance to work with.
"And then Cap here walks in, all casual, and he's like, 'I can do this all day," Landon recounts, making everyone laugh.
"You're such a cheeseball," You mutter with a smile as you nudge Steve's ribs.
He holds his hands up in surrender. "I can't help it," He claims.
Suddenly, there's a squeak over the sound system. "Hey, people!" Tony yells over the microphone. "It's almost midnight, and there's nowhere near enough of you dancing right now - grab a partner and make your way to the dancefloor, or else you're fired!"
"Oh, Cap, you know what you've gotta do," Landon says, patting his shoulder. "Take Agent Y/L/N and go dance!"
"Excuse me?" You ask incredulously. It's one thing attending a work party, but it's a whole other thing dancing at it. You don't want to completely lose all the fear and respect you've spent all year building up. "I don't dance."
"C'mon, sweetheart," Steve says, taking your hand. "Let's go."
His tone makes you think you don't have a choice, so you begrudgingly allow him to take you to the dancefloor. A few other couples are already swaying along as the band sings their rendition of A Little Less Conversation.
"Was Elvis around in your time?" You ask him as you rest your arms on his shoulders, not exactly clued up on Elvis or the 40s.
"Nah, he was popular after the war," Steve tells you, placing his hands on your hips as the two of you sway to the beat.
"I still can't believe you were around back then," You say, shaking your head. "It blows my mind."
"How do you think I feel?" He asks with a chuckle.
"You know what?" You begin with a smirk as you look around at all the stares you're getting. "I'm with the most eligible bachelor here. Every woman here wishes she was me. That feels good."
"You know what feels better?" Steve counters with a glint in his eye before he leans in closer and lowers his voice. "Every man here wishes he was me."
Laughing at his claim, you shrug. "I guess that makes us the hottest couple here," You say before frowning. "Wasn't there... weren't you and Agent Carter...?"
His cheeks flush pink and he looks down. "Uh, we decided to just be friends," He says, stealing a glance at Sharon who's dancing with Carol. "We tried, but... it was a little too weird, with her being related to... it was weird."
You nod slowly. "That's understandable."
As another song begins, you look across the floor to see Bucky dancing with Emma. His eyes are already on you as he gazes at you over her shoulder. His look tells you what he's thinking without you needing to ask - he's thinking about Russia. You can see it in the way his eyes have darkened, the lack of smile on his lips. Emma lifts her head and his eyes rip away from yours, and after she mumbles something to him, he gives her a soft kiss.
Maybe Jenn was right. Even though you refuse to admit it to her face, she may be right about Bucky feeling guilty because of what went down in Russia. That would explain why he's been avoiding you - but it doesn't make you feel any better about it.
Sick of how you're feeling, you decide to have a little fun with the man who isn't avoiding you. You spin around so your back is against Steve's front, the two of you continuing to dance. His hands grasp your waist and he rests his chin on your shoulder.
"Now everyone is definitely staring at us," He whispers with a chuckle.
"Good," You say, turning your head to the side towards him. "Think they're jealous?" Think he's jealous? Tell me he's jealous.
"I'd bet on it," Steve mumbles, stroking your hips. "I'm sure you're the subject of most of the other agents' fantasies. And maybe a couple Avengers, too."
"You think so?" You ask, perking up at his words.
"I can guarantee it," He says, squeezing your hip as your ass brushes against his crotch.
Turning back around to face him, you place your hands on his shoulders. "I thought you heavily disapprove of workplace relationships?" You wonder, recalling the HR meeting earlier on in the year.
Steve shrugs with an innocent smile and brings his lips to your ear before saying, "How am I supposed to stop myself from getting hard over you?"
You gasp and hit his chest. "Captain Rogers-"
"I'm kidding," He claims, looking you up and down. "It's the dress. Not you."
"Ah, sure," You tease with a grin, happily taking on the ego boost.
"Listen up, beautiful people!" The singer suddenly announces. "It's almost time for the countdown - y'all ready to bring on the new year?"
Everyone bursts into cheers and the dancefloors fills up.
"I want y'all to grab a partner and give them a nice, big kiss to welcome this new beginning, alright?" The singer orders, causing everyone to break off into pairs.
"Alright if I smooch you, Agent?" Steve asks you lowly.
"I guess," You say casually. "Seeing as I don't have any other options."
"Come on, now," He says with a smirk as he wraps his arms around you. "I'm the most eligible bachelor here, aren't I?"
"Y'all ready?" The singer asks before the lighting in the room dims. "Ten!.. Nine!"
The crowd chants along with him, you and Steve included. You look around at all your colleagues, the trainees, the agents you started with, the seniors who taught you everything you know.
And him.
Your eyes lock with Bucky's again, like moths to a flame. Emma's moving closer to him, preparing to kiss him. You look away. Back to Steve.
"Don't do anything stupid like fall in love with me, okay?" He warns you teasingly as he pulls you flush against his body.
"Impossible," You retort lightly as you squeeze his shoulders. "I have no heart."
"Two!.. One! Happy New Year!"
Steve kisses you deeply, a much more intense kiss than you were expecting. But it's New Year's, and everyone around you is making out, so why the fuck not?
By the time you both pull away, everyone else is back to drinking and dancing. Confetti continues to float from the ceiling and you pull a few pieces out of your hair and cleavage.
"Good kiss," Steve says simply, patting your ass lightly. "Happy New Year, baby."
"Happy New Year, Cap," You reply, unable to deny the flutter you feel in your pussy at his casual use of the nickname.
Stop. One super soldier at a time.
"Drinks," You say, reaching up to remove the stray confetti from his hair. "C'mon, Rogers."
The two of you have a couple of shots at the bar before you feel the alcohol get to your head. Slightly tipsy, you decide to escape to the hallway for a reprieve from the loud music.
While you're fluffing up a fake rose bush by the elevator, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You think nothing of it, assuming someone else is also pathetic enough to leave a New Year party at ten minutes past midnight, and continue mumbling to yourself while running your fingers through the plastic plant.
"Hey, rookie," His unmistakably gruff voice calls out seconds before his hands are on your hips.
"What do you want, Sergeant Barnes?" You ask, turning your head to the side.
He rests his chin on your shoulder. "Don't call me that," He whispers, slightly whining. "You know what it does."
Ignoring the way your stomach flips, you nudge him with your shoulders. "Get off me, you prick," You mumble, not really trying very hard to get him off you.
"What's wrong?" He asks lowly.
You roll your eyes. "Don't play all coy with me, Barnes," You spit. "You're the one who's been avoiding me. Feeling guilty about what you did?"
"Rookie-"
"Whatever," You utter bitterly. "I don't care what excuse you have. It felt really shitty when you stopped talking to me. We were friends at one point, you know? We had a mutual respect, or at least I thought- what are you doing?"
His hands have slipped under the hem of your dress and are trailing up your thighs. "What else?" He asks you with a mumble. "What else you mad at me for?"
You almost lose your train of thought as he pulls your panties to the side. "Bucky..."
"Tell me," He whispers into your ear.
"You didn't pretend like Russia never happened," You say, your breath hitching in your throat as he begins to rub your clit with his vibranium fingers. "It... things were supposed to go back to normal."
"What's normal?" He asks while plunging a cold, hard finger inside you.
A whimper leaves your mouth as you wrap your hand tightly around his wrist. "Flirting," You breathe out, trying to keep calm. "Talking to me. Touching me... inappropriately."
"Yeah, you miss that?" He utters smugly.
"You're a bastard and I hate you," You spit, your words mostly fueled by the alcohol in your bloodstream. "I hate that you just left me alone after Russia. Dropped me like I'm nothing."
He adds another finger, fucking them in and out of you, curling his digits inside you.
"Fuck, Bucky," You moan, swallowing thickly. "I hate that you're still with her. She's so... boring."
"We have fun," He claims casually.
"Bullshit," You sputter. "And I hate that she doesn't suspect you at all. You should have slipped up - she should have realized what you did."
"Isn't it a good thing that she didn't?" Bucky wonders as he speeds up.
"No," You whine. "It- it shouldn't be that easy for you to stop thinking about me. To stop fantasizing about me - I'm the best you ever had, and you know it. She should know it."
"Cum for me, rookie," He mutters in your ear.
"I hate that you still call me that," You let out between heavy breaths. "I am a Special Agent."
"Cum for me."
"I hate that you're only doing this because you saw me kiss Steve," You spill as the pitch of your voice heightens. "Jealous. Trying to mark your fuckin' territory, you prick."
"Cum."
With a strangled cry, you keel over, cumming hard over his fingers as they curl and scissor in your throbbing pussy.
"That's a good girl," He purrs while you let out weak moans, your heart racing. "Just like that."
You pull his hand out from between your legs and take a few steps forwards before turning to face him. "You're insane," You breathe out. "Someone could've walked out and seen us."
His lip curls up into a smirk and he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. "Well, they didn't."
When he kisses you, you taste Asgardian ale on his tongue. You've only ever had a sip of it before, and all you remember is waking up eighteen hours later with a raging headache.
"You're drunk," You mumble against his lips. "That's the only reason you're here with me right now."
"Not true," He mutters.
"I don't give a fuck, by the way," You state firmly. "I don't care that you've been ignoring me. I'm just annoyed."
He raises a brow. "Doesn't that mean-"
"I'm just bored," You reiterate pointedly. "We used to have fun, y'know? Used to... you'd be all flirty, and fucking..."
"I'm sorry," Bucky says, seemingly sincerely as he places his hands on your hips. His boner presses against your stomach. "I, uh, I guess I've been a pussy recently. I was... scared."
You can tell how difficult it is for him to admit it, so you appreciate his vulnerability. "Scared of me?" You ask him with a frown.
"I meant it when I said I'd never slept with other girls before," He tells you. "I mean, never cheated on Em before. I'm new to this whole sneaking around thing. I didn't know how you'd react."
"For what it's worth, I'm new to it too," You point out. "If you're uncomfortable, it doesn't ever have to happen again, I just want us to go back to how we were before."
"Who said I don't want it to happen again?" He asks, resting his forehead against yours.
Your stomach flips. "Bucky..."
"C'mon, rookie," He utters. "We're good at it. Making each other feel better, I mean. It's just sex; it's not a big deal."
"Not sure Em would feel that way," You say with a raised brow.
"What she doesn't know, won't kill her," He replies casually. "Sometimes, this job can be fucking tough. Sometimes, I need a reprieve, and she isn't always here."
Your heart skips a beat and you shake your head, suddenly aware of what you're doing. "We're bad people."
"We're real people," He returns.
A thump sounds out behind him, signifying that the door to the bar has opened. You take a step back from him and he lets go of your hips. Casually, you rest against the wall, waiting for the person to walk by.
Turning to see who it is, you grit your teeth. Of course.
"Having fun out here?" She asks with a raised brow.
Fucking Jenn.
"Hey, Agent Curson," Bucky calls out to her with a nod. "Just chatting. You know what Y/N's like; she might die if she doesn't get any special attention for too long."
Her eyebrow flicks up. She's surprised he's back to how he was - back to teasingly you relentlessly. Back to flirting with you unabashedly, back to overstepping boundaries.
"Uh-huh," She replies as she continues walking over.
"I like your dress," You say, lying through your teeth.
"Thanks," She says with a nod, looking you up and down before turning her attention to Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes, I believe Miss Green's looking for you."
"She is?" He returns before nodding. "Thanks for letting me know. I'm just in the middle of a conversation with Y/N right now."
Jenn almost looks slightly nervous - as though Emma sent her out to get Bucky and told her not to return unless he was with her. "But, Sergeant, she-"
"I'm busy right now, Agent," Bucky cuts her off curtly. "I'll get back to the party once we're done here. You can go, now."
Your heart races and you do everything you can not to smirk right in Jenn's face. She clenches her jaw before turning and leaving with a half-assed, mumbled apology. Once she's gone, you grab Bucky by the collars and pull him closer to you.
"That was so hot," You utter against his lips. "I can't stand that bitch."
Bucky chuckles, stroking your ass and squeezing it. "I figured that would cheer you up. Still hate me?" He asks with a cheeky grin.
You narrow your eyes before giving him a kiss. "Put Jenn in her place a couple more times and I'm putty in your hands, Sergeant," You admit, as terrible a person as that makes you.
He kisses you again, the two of you making out wildly against the wall. Any second, someone else could walk out from the bar - Emma herself, even - but that only adds fuel to the fire.
"So fucking hard for you," He grumbles as he grinds his boner against your belly. "When you gonna let me fuck your face again, huh?"
You pull back, letting out a soft laugh. "I guess you'll have to wait until our next mission together, Sergeant," You say slyly, raising a brow. "Seeing as I'm just a reprieve for when she's not around."
Bucky grabs a fistful of hair and pulls your head back, making you cry out. "Don't act smart," He grumbles, making your stomach flip. "What are you, huh? Tell me."
You let out a shaky breath before replying, "I'm your fucktoy, Sergeant Barnes."
"That's right," He says with a smirk, thrusting gently against your stomach. "Mine. My little cumdump for when I want you. You bend over when I say so. You suck my cock when I say so. You cum when I say so."
Your eyes burn into his. You don't think you've ever been so turned on in your life.
"That means no playing with yourself when you're alone, unless I say you can," He iterates lowly, before his eyes darken. "And no letting other men fuck you. This cunt," He grabs your mound, making you whimper. "Is mine to fill. This ass," He spanks you hard. "Is mine to play with. These perfect fucking tits," He pulls your dress down suddenly along with your bra, and slaps one of your boobs before pulling on your nipple. "Are mine to suck on. Open your mouth."
You do as he says, never once looking away from him.
He puts his four flesh fingers into your mouth, stretching it out. "This pretty face is mine to fuck," He whispers, sliding his fingers in and out, making you gag. "All mine. Do you understand me, rookie? Say it."
You let out a gargled version of the words I understand around his fingers, making him smirk cruelly. He's got you right where he wants you, and the power rush he gets from having such a strong person broken down like this is beyond anything else he's ever felt.
"That's my girl," He says before pulling out of your mouth and pulling your bra and dress back up. "Now, give me your panties."
Your eyes widen. You can feel how wet they are, not only from your orgasm but from the past five minutes of Bucky's torture - surely he's not being serious.
"Are you-"
"Don't make me ask twice," He cuts in curtly, looking down at you with a firm look.
He watches as you pull them down, struggling slightly to get them over your heels, before you timidly hand them to him. Bucky takes them from you and brings them to his face for a few seconds as he inhales.
"Fuck, you always smell so good," He groans, making your breath hitch in your throat. With a wink, he stuffs them into his trouser pocket, before tapping your hip. "Let's head back in."
Unbelievably horny and unable to snap out of your daze, you shake your head. "I can't."
He knows the effect he has on you, and he relishes in it. "C'mon, Special Agent Y/N. They're waiting for us."
"I probably look a mess," You mumble, still feeling shell-shocked.
Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs your arm. "You look as gorgeous as ever, dumbass, come on. Let's go," He says, beginning to drag you back to the bar before stopping to turn to you. "Oh - and if Steve asks you to dance with him again, do me a favor and kick him in the balls."
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bucky masterlist
follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications so you know when i update.
buy me a kofi <3
965 notes · View notes
its-time-to-write · 8 months
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hi i love your work.
can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy
you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.
I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂
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sinking into your worn out mattress
It’s the same routine every day.
Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.
It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.
You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.
You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.
You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 
“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”
She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 
But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.
It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  
It’s stressing you out.
How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?
Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 
“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”
She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”
You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”
That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.
She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”
Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.
Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.
“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”
Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”
At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.
“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 
You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.
“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”
You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.
“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.
“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”
Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”
She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 
The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 
“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”
Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”
You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”
She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.
“Probably since before I moved,” you say.
“And when was the last time you saw your family?”
You begin to see where she’s going.
“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”
Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”
“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”
Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”
It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”
You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”
“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”
You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”
Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 
You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 
You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 
You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 
“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”
It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.
“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”
Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.
“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”
“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.
She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.
“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”
You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”
Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”
You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.
“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.
“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”
“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.
“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 
Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”
You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.
“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”
Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”
Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.
You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”
That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.
It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.
Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.
But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 
Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.
And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.
You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 
You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.
You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 
“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”
You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.
“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”
You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.
Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.
“Mint,” he says.
“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.
“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.
“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”
What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.
“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 
“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”
“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 
“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”
You say thanks and hang up. 
Oh.
You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 
There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.
“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.
“How’d you know where I live?”
Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”
“And why are you here?”
You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.
He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”
You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.
“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”
His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.
“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”
You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 
You can feel his breath when he pulls away.
“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”
“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.
You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.
“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”
You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.
Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.
You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.
Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.
“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 
You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 
“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”
Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”
You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 
You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 
“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”
So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 
You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.
It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 
You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 
You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.
It’s Jamie.
The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 
“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”
He can feel tears on his neck.
“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”
You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.
Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 
“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.
You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.
“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.
“Are you dyin’?” he asks.
“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.
“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”
“Mental,” you agree.
Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 
He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.
You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”
Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”
“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”
“No you don’t,” you say.
“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”
You’re at a loss for words.
“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”
669 notes · View notes
matan4il · 1 month
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Daily update post:
An Israeli law draft that would prohobit UNRWA's activity in Israel passed a very primal stage of legislation. It still has a long way until it will become law (it would still have to pass 3 readings, as well as the Knesset committees), but if before Oct 7 it probably would not stand a chance, after the mounting evidence of the symbiotic nature between Hamas and UNRWA, it has a better chance than ever.
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Speaking of the UN being despicable, and in cahoots with antisemitic, genocidal terrorists, we now have Martin Griffiths, the UN Relief Chief, saying that he does not consider Hamas a terrorist organization. Just wondering, if an organization targeting civilians, raping women, maiming children, beheading babies, burning entiree families together, shooting and kidnapping elderly Holocaust survivors, isn't a terrorist organization, what in the world does Hamas need to do to be recognized as such!?
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You might have heard that Israel is operating in the Nasser hospital in Gaza. There's a reason for that, which was addressed by the IDF spokesperson: Israel has intel, including from released hostages, that Hamas kept kidnapped Israelis (and possibly kidnapped bodies) in that hospital. I've actually found one testimony from a released hostage, Sharon Cunyo, talking about this to CNN's Anderson Cooper. The vid is here (page in Spanish, but the vid is in English).
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I cannot stress enough how much our hearts hurt for our Jewish brothers and sisters around the world, suffering from this current rise in antisemitism. We've now heard that in the UK, a doctor who has described Jewish colleagues as having a "big nose," and who said that a London borough would be better off "Jew free" was found to be not racist, and could continue to practice medicine. This ties in with a new report that shows the number of antisemitic incidents in the UK is the highest it's been in 40 years, with 67% of these taking place after Oct 7, and maybe most importantly, the initial peak in antisemitic acts was a celebration of Hamas' massacre, rather than any sort of reaction to the war in Gaza.
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Meanwhile, in the US congress, a bipartisan resolution passed, condemning Hamas' use of rape and sexual violence on Oct 7 (and since, when it comes to the hostages). Which is incredible and needed, even if it only has a symbolic meaning. Still, guess who couldn't stomach defending the human rights of Israelis, even when it comes to rape, even when it had no practical meaning? Rashida Tlaib, once more doing the US proud.
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These are (left to right) Yair Cohen, Ziv Chen, and Netanel Alkobi.
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On Oct 7, they were among the soldiers who got to kibbutz Nir Yitzchak, and saved the majority of its people from being slaughtered. They stayed to guard the kibbutz since (as the border fence has not yet been completely fixed), and only recently entered Gaza. The other day, they were killed in a building booby trapped by Hamas in Khan Younis. As heartbreaking is it was to hear their families talk about them, it was also painful to hear interviews with kibbutz members, who had lost so much, who have had loved ones in captivity for over 4 months, and who were just as devastated as the families, when they recognized the three as their savior heroes.
May their memories be a blessing.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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whimsical-roasting · 10 months
Text
okay just imagine being friends with colin and jamie being like slightly jealous
okay so i’m thinking about doing like a psych major!reader who shadows Dr Sharon at the football club for experience and ends up having a thing with Jamie... like Jamie asks for her to tutor him on psych knowledge and being a better person and ofc they lowkey fall for each other but don’t know it... 
ANYWAYS AROUND THAT PLOT LINE... the reader and Colin end up as bffs (lowkey spoilers for Colin’s info in s3?).. also my bestie is @sokkigarden and i love and appreciate her support
okay, so reader is shadowing Dr Sharon and Colin is so nice that he consents to her sitting in on the session since Dani was a bit too traumatised to have any silent observers 
she doesn’t speak and tries not to make too much eye contact but when they do lock eyes, she gives him a soft smile, and he returns it
after the session, now only 3 people know Colin’s gay... him, her, and Dr Sharon. when she catches his eye at the end of the session, she does a little lock and key motion to her lips as if to say ‘my lips are sealed, promise’ with a soft smile, and he smiles and nods
the reader is usually extroverted and chatty but remains professional - not really interacting with the boys unless necessary (obvi Ted won’t have any of it, but that’s a diff point) so Colin isn’t too fussed about her...plus, she seems genuinely nice
in the next couple of weeks, the reader bumps into Colin in the hallway and goes, “oh!! Colin, I was out on the weekend and saw this and thought of you, so um, here :))” and nervously passes him a small pocketbook of affirmations since Dr Sharon instructed him to reaffirm “I am a strong and capable man”
he grins and thanks her, and then BOOM, they’re now good friends. he offers to drop her home when her Uber cancels, and they blast Taylor Swift and rap to Drake 
now fast forward a while when Jamie asks the reader to tutor him in psych/therapy, and it is a funny exchange:
Jamie: you’re uh, good at this psych shit huh?
Reader: uhh, you mean the 4+ years I’ve dedicated to this degree? Yea, I kinda hope I’m good at this psych shit
Jamie: can you help me do better at therapy?
Reader: um,, therapy is more of a personal thing.. you kinda do better yourself
Jamie: oh, then what do you do :/
Reader: -_-
Jamie:  no no, I didn't mean it like that, fuck sorry
Reader: I can tell you about tools and theories that can HELP YOU help yourself 
Jamie: yea yea.. that. let's do that, I want that
Reader: this isn't a drive thru, Tartt, you can't just ask like it's a dollar menu
anyways,, she agrees bc experience yea totally it’s the resume experience and not cause he has a cute thinking face and emotional intelligence is hot or anything like that
so they’re like a month in with this whole ‘tutoring’ thing and she’s at his place and he notices a childish bracelet on her wrist.. he seems to notice a lot about her but he tells himself it’s cause he’s getting more self-awareness (lmao dumbass, SELF-awareness has nothing to do with HER hair, eyes, and new accessories but sure)
okay the next day in the locker room, he sees Colin w the same bracelet??? so he asks and Colin’s all like, “it’s a friendship bracelet, boyo!” and Jamie just kinda nods not replying before they head out onto the pitch
next time he and the reader are tutoring he asks why she and Colin are wearing the same bracelet thingy...she tells him it’s a friendship thingy and she made it for the both of them.... Jamie just kinda stares and goes ‘where’s mine.’ 
she blinks at him and tilts her head, “are we friends?” and his mouth falls open “we’re fuckin not???” he questions, slightly offended. and she’s all like “no no, ofc we are... but maybe just not friendship bracelet level friends” 
Jamie fights back a pout, but there’s a crease in the middle of his brows and she wants to lean forward to flatten it with her thumb but fights the urge
there’s silence for a moment...
“when you upgradin meh?”
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axysbbygurl · 2 years
Note
For being so nice🎀 and cute😚, copy this to other bloggers that you think are wonderful. 💗Keep the GAME going and make others feel beautiful❤️
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*big yawn* me am ded as this iplier bitch cuz of exhaustion rn but thank you ilysm!! 🖤
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venusjaynie · 10 months
Text
wish you were sober
Pairing: College!Frat!Bucky x Fem!reader
summary: you've had a crush on your roommate, Bucky, for a while, and after rescuing him from a party while he's drunk for what feels like the 1000th time, you finally admit your feelings.
Content Warning: friends with feelings situation, sexual tension, strong language, pet-names (angel, baby etc.), alcoholism, drunk bucky, parties, angst, fluff, mentions of puking (no actual puking)
word count: 2k
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"C'mon, Angel, please come with us?" Bucky asks, tugging on your arm. You roll your eyes, yet a playful smile toys at your lips.
"I said no, Buck. If you wanna go, then go. No one's stopping you. But I'm not going. I don't wanna deal with a tequila drunk Bucky Barnes all night." You tell him, gently removing your hand from his grip. His face falls immediately.
"I promise I won't get drunk this time. I swear I-" He's cut of by a loud laugh from Sam.
"Bullshit! You know as well as I do that you won't last 10 minutes before you're wasted, Barnes." Sam says. You agree.
"See Bucky, even Sam agrees. I'm tired. I'm not going, and that's final." You tell him, defiantly. "And don't you have that biology exam tomorrow?"
"I already studied for that! If you don't wanna come that's fine, but I swear I won't get drunk." Bucky remarks, a pointed look on his face.
"Even if I'm not there?" You ask.
"Even if you aren't there." You eye him suspiciously, but believe him nonetheless.
"Have fun, call me if you need me, yeah?" Bucky nods in response. He looks deflated, but bids you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek which absolutely does not make you blush, despite Sam's insistence that it in fact, does.
------------------------------------------------------------
Turns out, you not going to the party was not final. After a few hours of you watching TV in the living room of you apartment, Bucky calls you, begging you to come and pick him up.
30 minutes and 3 rounds of shots, which you did not participate in, later, you're taking care of an extremely drunk Bucky. He smiling stupidly at you and is babbling about nonsense, while you try to coax him into the car.
"You'll never guess what Wanda said to Sharon-" He cuts off his own sentence with drunken laughter.
"Bucky- just get in- Jesus Christ, would you sit down and put the seatbelt on, please?" You say as you shove him into the car, being mindful of his head.
"And then-" He, again, interrupts himself with giggles. "And then Sam- he spilled an entire bottle of vodka right down Sharon's shirt! It was so fucking funny, babe. You shoulda- You shoulda been there!" He spirals off into another giggling fit as you finally get him into the car and he lets you buckle his seatbelt. You close the passenger door with a sigh and walk to your side of the car, sitting down and starting the vehicle.
The car ride is mainly silent, save for Bucky's occasional giggling or whining about something that gone down at the party. You stay silent, keeping your eyes on the road, and even in his drunken state, Bucky can tell he's fucked up.
He thinks for a moment, not wanting to anger you any further and make the situation worse.
"Angel?" He asks, somewhat quietly. You nod. "Are you mad at me?" He almost whispers.
You don't say anything.
"You're mad." It's a statement, yet he poses it as a question. He sounds so sad, you almost feel bad for him.
"And you're drunk." You say.
"What?! No I'm not!" He replies.
You sigh, before asking, "How much did you drink tonight?"
"Uh- I did, like, 3 rounds of, uh, tequila shots. I did the keg challenge- you know the one from Stranger Things-" You cut him off with an unimpressed look. He chuckles nervously, but continues. "That's irrelevant. I had, maybe, 2 cups of Jack and coke..." He trails off as you stop at a red light and turn to face him.
You sigh. "You promised, James." His eyes widen at the use of his first name, and he immediately knows he fucked up.
"I know I did. M'sorry. I just got carried away... again." He sends a resentful look in your direction. You turn away from him. The lights turn green and you continue the car ride to your house.
After a while, Bucky speaks up. "I-uh- I don't feel so good." He says, swallowing, hard.
"There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. James, if you puke in my car I'm never speaking to you again. If you need me to pull over, tell me. We are not having another Fulton Street incident." You tell him, deadly serious. He takes the water from the glove compartment and sips it. Thankfully, he doesn't puke in the car, and you soon turn into the car parking area back on campus, which luckily, is close to the frat house you share with the boys and Nat.
Bucky gets out first, and stumbles and trips his way over to the path leading up to the house. Sighing, you do the same, minus the stumbling and falling, and make your way over to him. As you arrive at the front door of the house, you pull the key from your pocket, and the little keychain picture of you and Bucky clinks on the metal of the door handle as you open it.
Once inside the house, Bucky immediately goes to the kitchen. You take off your coat and shoes at the door, and follow him.
He's getting another beer from the fridge.
"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" You whisper-shout.
"I'm getting a beer." He says, loudly.
"Lower your voice. Everyone else is sleeping." You say, almost irritated.
"Sorry, Angel." He giggles. He opens the beer and moves to take a swig of it, but you're faster than him in his drunken state and you manage to take the beer from him before he can consume anymore alcohol. "Hey!"
"You need to go to sleep, c'mon." You take his hand and practically drag him to his room, reminding him to keep quiet as you walk past the other bedrooms. When you reach Bucky's room, you go in to help him get ready, but he simply flops onto the bed and attempts to pull you with him.
"No, James, you need to get changed." He groans, but sits up anyway. You help him out of his clothes, and into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, but he refuses to wear a shirt.
"Alright, no shirt. Go brush your teeth. I'm gonna go back to my room, 'kay? Night, Bucky." You make a move to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can get very far.
"Don't go. Stay here tonight." He gives you his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows you can't say no to, and you roll your eyes, but sit down on the bed anyway. He grins cheekily before getting up to brush his teeth, not letting go of your hand and consequently dragging you in there with him. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet." He mumbles, his toothbrush still in his mouth, and you reach over to grab the one he's talking about. As you're brushing your teeth, you catch Bucky's eye in the mirror. He's already looking at you, and before you look away he winks at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You can't help but laugh, and the faint tint of pink on your cheeks makes Bucky smirk and raise his eyebrows at you slightly. Even in his drunken state he notices those little things about you. He can't help it. He's infatuated by everything you do.
After brushing your teeth, you lightly pull at Bucky's arm to guide him to his bed, and he goes pliant at your touch. Before getting into bed, though, he goes to his wardrobe, albeit stumbling on his way, and pulls out one of his old jerseys for you.
"Here. You can't sleep in your clothes." You take it from him, thanking him, and you make a start to the bathroom until Bucky stops you. "Just change in here, angel. I think we've known each other long enough to get changed in the same room." He laughs as he says it, and you can't help but laugh too. You contemplate his offer for a moment, and then you remind yourself that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, so you set the jersey on the bed and begin to undress yourself. You notice Bucky not-so-subtly watching you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.
"No peaking, pervy. Cover your eyes."
"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." He uses his hands to cover his eyes, and you continue to get changed, and soon enough you notice that he's looking through the gaps in his fingers, but you don't bother to tell him you can see him, too tired to deal with that shit at 2am. You do your best to ignore his watchful eyes, but you can't, however, ignore the quiet intake of breath that comes from his direction when you take your shirt off, exposing your bra clad chest. Not wanting to encourage his ogling, you quickly slip the jersey over your head.
"Alright, you can look now." You tell him, and he removes his hands from his face and pulls back the covers of the bed, and you climb in beside him. You've slept in the same bed before, so being this close to Bucky shouldn't feel weird, but as you settle down in the bed and he shuffles closer to you, the feeling of his breath fanning on your neck, and the arm that's somehow circled your waist and pulled you into him all in the span of 10 seconds has you feeling slightly overwhelmed. You've had a crush on Bucky since you moved in with him and the others, which was a year ago. So being this close to him has turned the butterflies in your stomach that you feel when you're around him into a zoo enclosure of elephants and zebras and giraffes, and they're all chasing each other and causing your insides to flip around all over the place. It's fucking annoying. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Bucky's voice breaking the silence in the room.
"Thanks for tonight. Sorry you have to deal with this." His words are quiet, and you don't really know how to respond, because frankly, as much as you may complain about having to deal with Bucky when he's drunk, part of you doesn't mind taking care of him when he's like this.
"Don't worry about it. I'm your friend, it's kind've my job."
"Correction: you're my best friend." You giggle and he doesn't say anything else for a while, and you've closed your eyes, ready to sleep by the time he pipes up again.
"Angel? Can I tell you something?" You crack open one eye as he moves away from your back and turns you over by the hip in the process.
"Sure."
"I think you're really fucking pretty." He whispers it, and his face is inches from yours, and blood rushes to your cheeks while the elephants, zebras and giraffes in your stomach to backflips off the walls.
"You, uh, you shouldn't say shit like that when you're plastered."
"I know. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Isn't that what you told me that time I told Maddie I didn't like her when I was drunk and then she got all pissed at me and I blamed it on the alcohol?" You nodded at his question. "I really like you. Like, really."
"I really like you, too, but I don't wanna do this when you're drunk, so we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?"
"Alright. Alcohol doesn't change how I feel about you, though." You smile at him, and he tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. "Night, babe."
"Goodnight, Bucky." You turn around again and his arm wraps around your waist as it did before, and he pulls you flush against him.
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The sound of Bucky's 8.30am alarm pulls you from your sleep. You slept well throughout the night, even though you ended up with a 6'2" hockey player lying half across you. When Bucky wakes up, though, he doesn't make a move to get off of you, and just makes his head more comfortable against your chest. You turn the lamp on beside his bed, and he groans, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his arm, and you laugh at his actions.
"Don't laugh. I'm in pain." He says, dramatically.
"Oh, shut it. You're hung over. C'mon, lets get you some Tylenol and a coffee." He groans again as you try to sit up, and wraps both his arms around your waist to pull you back, and you're giggling at him again. "James, c'mon. It's 8.30. Your bio exam is in an hour and a half, and you need to be on campus in an hour to get signed in."
"Ugh, fine!" He rolls his eyes, but gets out of bed and goes to walk to the kitchen, and you stand up to follow him.
"Woah, don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who thought it would be a good idea to get drunk the night before an exam."
"Shut up."
By the sounds of the conversation, it doesn't seem like Bucky remembers the confession he made last night, and you can't say you're surprised. The cuddling may have been an indicator that what he said was true, but the two of you have quite a touchy, almost flirtatious, friendship so it doesn't really confirm anything for you.
Bucky must notice that you seem lost in thought, and it's almost like he can read your mind.
"Hey, I remember what we talked about last night. We'll talk about it as soon as I get home, okay? Trust me, I wouldn't forget something like that." His words put you at ease slightly, and you nod, smiling. "And, for the record, I meant it. All of it."
You look up at him.
"Me too."
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this has been in my drafts for like 6 months ngl but anyways here you go <3
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
Text
Question...
pairing: bucky x reader
summary: bucky has been acting suspicious so you finally ask him where he's spending his nights/ more like with who
tw: cheating; gaslighting; angst;
a/n: not proof read/ English is not my first language so pls be nice /
suffice to say this was very vagely inspired by taylor swifts song question
MASTERLIST
part 2
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"IT'S JUST A QUESTION!" you yelled at your soon to be ex, Bucky.
You were in the middle of an argument with your boyfriend, who you have been suspicious of for a while, and you have finally snapped and asked the question.
"I already told you. I had reports to write." another lie has come through Buckys mouth and it took everything in you not to leave without fighting.
Bucky has been coming home later and later every night for the last couple of months, you tried to trust him, and you did at the beginning, but whatever has been going on it has been going on a while.
"How dare you lie to me! Everyone knows! Our friends look at me like I'm the biggest idot on Earth! Do you understand how embarrassing that is!?" your voice cracking, tears ready to spill.
The party you had attended last night had been the breaking point, worst of all it was your own birthday party.
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
It was almost midnight and your birthday was approaching, party had been going on for two hours by now, and you were enjoying yourself.
Greetings and hugs were exchanged, lots of dancing during your favourite songs. Everything was perfect, well almost, Bucky still hasn't arrived and you were starting to think he won't come at all. A message notification gets your attention. Speak of the devil.
bucky: sorry doll be there soon love you
"Hey, you okay?" Natasha had asked you seeing your face fall. You faked a smile and pulled her to the dance floor, not in the mood to talk about it, today was supposed to be a good day.
Bucky arrives 10 minutes later, unfortunately not alone, he arrived with Sharon. Sharon has been a good friend of everyone in the group, and you liked her she was very nice to you, but recently you've had this bad feeling.
Bucky runs up to you, picks you up, and kisses you. It was easy to forget that you're angry and disappointed when he kisses you like that.
The moment is ruined when you hear people laugh. Bucky looks at the time and pulls away. You stand there feeling embarrassed, with everyone's eyes on you, you disassociate. Your hands grow cold even though you're sweating, music making you overwhelmed, but you just can't move.
Only when you feel Buckys hands on you, you're pulled back to reality. He starts leading you to the table where your cake stands, everyone starts clapping and singning happy birthday, the candles on the cake burning, their light reflecting in your teary eyes.
No one notices that they're not tears of joy, because why would they? It's your birthday you can't be sad on your special day.
You blow out the candles, and as soon as the cake is cut, you run outside to take a breath of fresh air in hopes of it calming you down.
You're not outside for long before you hear two familiar voices talking.
"Do you have to go? It's still early." Buckys voice echoes though the empty alley way, where the exit from the place is. He doesn't notice you sitting away in the corner on some empty wooden boxes, despite his senses.
"I gotta go. Tomorrow same time?" Sharon replies and Bucky nods and waves goodbye, she sits down in the uber and drives away....
You sit there trying to process this, trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head, it doesn't mean anything, but you know that's not true and you're done.
The time flies and it's time to go home, and on the way to the apartment you barely say anything, which Bucky takes as you being tired.
But as soon as you step into the apartment you finally ask
"How long have you been fucking Sharon?"
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
Bucky still doesn't look at you and tries to brush you off but you weren't having it, so you pull him by the shirt.
"Look at me,when you're talking to me!" you say through gritted teeth before noticing a row hickeys on Buckys neck making you drop the shirt instantly.
You're speechless, your hand covers your mouth trying to hold off the sob that was about to escape.
Bucky also stays unmoving not knowing how to get out of this, he didn't mean to,it wasn't supposed to happen.
The first time it happened it was after one of the work parties, he was drunk, Sharon was drunk and mistakes were made. He planned on telling you but he just couldn't. You're too kind too sweet and didn't deserve to have your heart broken.
It was eating him up, but he couldn't let you find out, so after finishing a report he goes to Sharon's office to tell her that what happened the night before was a mistake and wouldn't happen again, he asked her to keep the secret from everyone. However he had found himself once again in her bed, and it just never stopped.
It's not that Bucky didn't love you, he did or that's what he kept telling himself. He didn't mean for it to go this far but now it's too late.
"I'm sorry." Bucky finally says after deafening silence that's been going on for far too long.
You're still frozen in place not knowing what to do. Bucky is the man you thought you would marry, spend the rest of your life with. You were sure he was the one, all the smiles and laughs he gave you, the late night kisses, the pillow forts, the promises.... Everything crashing down on you all at once.
"How long? Please tell me the truth, you owe me that much." Your voice just above a whisper.
"Four months."
Buckys answer doesn't surprise you, but it does break you. You don't say anything just nod and start to pack your bags. Bucky doesn't do anything to stop you, he just stays out of your way. And you leave without another word.
☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
/month later/
It took a while for you to get used to living alone, since you've been living with Bucky for the last 3 years. You hadn't had the time to mourn the loss of you relationship as you were too busy adjusting.
There were unfortunately things you had yet to pick up from yours and Buckys place, and today was the day you're finally going back, for the first time since that day.
As much as it hurt you to go back you really needed your stuff. You text Bucky you're close and he replies with an okay. If you had kept your key the night you left you wouldn't have to see him but alas.
"Hey." Bucky openes the door and greets you, but you just walk past him towards the bedroom.
"I hadn't touched anything. I haven't even slept in our bed." you cringe at the words *our bed* but still say nothing.
Bucky hovers around the door watching you pack, which makes you nervous, not an emotion you ever thought would be caused by him.
"Are you still with her?" you shamefully ask while picking up a dress Bucky got you for your first anniversary, deciding it was better not to bring it.
"Yeah." Bucky says quietly opting not to lie, even though you wish he had lied.
"That's nice. I'm sure that's suitable." you reply swallowing hard.
It doesn't take more than half an hour to pack the rest of your stuff, you pick up the suit case and look around, your heart breaking more every passing second.
Bucky asks if you need help, you deny it quickly and head for the door.
As soon as door opens, you walk out without turning around or saying goodbye. He doesn't deserve it and you both know it.
|the end|
part 2
hope you enjoyed <3
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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badingsm · 5 months
Note
can i request something filipino?like filo reader brings nat in the ph and then they try street foods??
The Proposal Series — II. Immigration, Homecoming, Romanoff
Hi Anon! I hope it's okay to combine your request with my little series! Also, sorry for the delay; I got really busy with school. And oh, credits to The Proposal movie, especially the script and the plot, because obviously that's where this story will go!
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"1023, 1024, 1025, 1026-"
"Will you please shut up?" Natasha snapped from beside you, her sunglasses covering half of her face as you both rode her car to the immigration office. "God, you're so annoying!"
"I'm sorry, if somebody's annoying here, it would definitely be you!" You muttered lowly with a frown before looking at her directly in the eyes. "This is so fucking illegal."
"Where's the fun with always being on the legal side?"
"I'm not going to marry you, Natasha." The first name basis was such a bold move for you to do, but with the pressure, fear, and everything that you've been feeling, you couldn't care less, causing the latter to glare at you with those forest gems that she owned.
"Sure you are." Was the last thing that she replied before her side of the door was opened by the driver, leaving you frustrated with her attitude and everything about her.
You followed Natasha inside, and there you saw the really long line that made your boss curse to herself. Just as you were about to go and line up, Natasha had already left your side, instead opting to go straight to the counter and making the people (who have been waiting for so long) groan in annoyance.
"The line.."
"Shut up and just follow." She instructed as if you're her dog that she could boss around everywhere and anytime she pleases. The next person on the line was about to approach the personnel, but Natasha had already taken her spot with a simple glare. The older woman immediately backed away. "I just need to ask him something."
"Hi!" You smiled apologetically. "Sorry for the..."
"I need for you to file this fiancé visa for me," Natasha said to the in-charge worker at the cubicle, the latter shaking his head in annoyance but nonetheless accepting the papers that you've brought. "Thanks."
"Miss Romanoff?" Cris, as you saw from his name tag, read through the file.
Natasha nodded in confirmation, "Yeah."
"Please come with me."
-
"I want to puke," You whispered in the silence that fell into the room. You were led into an office where papers for people's visas and such are being processed. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Morning, lovebirds!" A man came in, and you were guessing that he's probably in his early 40s. "I'm Mister Loki Laufeyson, and you must be Y/n.." He faced you, making you answer with a small nod because you were still unsure about everything that's been happening recently. "And you must be Miss.."
"Romanoff." Natasha continued with a subtle eye roll because she knew deep inside that she would hate this man for the rest of her life.
"Yes." Loki nodded. "Sorry about the wait. It's a busy day today, as you can see from the long line."
"Yeah, yeah." Your boss cut him off. "And we appreciate you for seeing us on such short notice."
Insert sarcasm.
It's her nature, and she can't help it anymore.
"Okay." The older man shrugged and began sitting on his chair. "Blablablablablablabla.."
You watched him through uncertain eyes as he surveyed all the files that you were tasked to prepare at the last minute before you both came here for this shit.
"So I have one question for you," Loki sighed. "Are you both committing fraud to avoid her deportation? And so she could keep her position in the company?"
"That's... that's ridiculous."
"Where did you get that?" Natasha squinted her eyes, scoffing sarcastically but subtly.
"We had a phone tip this afternoon from a woman named-"
"Sharon." The redhead guessed correctly.
"Sharon Carter." The man agreed impressively.
"Poor Sharon. I'm sorry, you see.." Natasha faked sympathy, remaining standing by the side with her phone clutched tightly against her palm. "Sharon is nothing but a disgruntled employee that I just fired because of her tardiness and laziness. I believe this is just her way for some childish revenge for me… And we know that your department is very busy, so if you just give us the next step, we'll be out of your hair and on our way."
"Miss Romanoff, please." Loki gestured the chair for the redhead to sit, which she obeyed immediately. "Let me explain the process that's about to unfold. Step one will be a scheduled interview. I'll put you into a room where I ask every little question that a real couple should know about each other."
"Mm." You gulped nervously.
"Step two: I dig deeper. I look at your phone records. Talk to your neighbors. Interview your co-workers about your relationship." Loki said firmly, "And if your answers don't match up, you." He pointed at Natasha, "Will be deported immediately."
"Hm.." Natasha nodded with a shrug.
"And you, young lady." You think he's flirting with you when he turns to your side, but it's gone as soon as you blink your eyes, swallowed by the nerves settling in. "Will have committed a felony punishable by a fine of $250,000 and a vacation of five years in the federal prison."
The weight of everything had finally sunk in, and you felt the sweat building up intensely against your chest, your hairline, your armpits—your whole body.
"So," Loki fake-whispered, scrutinizing you with his gaze as if he's challenging you and wants you to give in already. "Wanna tell me something?"
At first, you shook your head, thinking about how you would lose your job and how everything that you've worked hard for (including dealing with the unbearable attitude of Natasha for three years) would come to waste, but then you also remembered that you didn't want to end up in jail for that long, making you nod your head a little bit to answer him.
"Yes?" He questioned, not paying attention to Natasha's foot stomping yours with her heels underneath the table, causing you to shake your head, silently signaling the redhead to stop it already. "No?"
"The truth is.." You cleared your hoarse throat, gathering all your thoughts and setting aside your emotions until further time. "Mr. Laufeyson, the truth is.."
Meanwhile, Natasha sat there with a clenched jaw, looking back and forth between you and Loki, waiting for the outcome of what your next words might bring, but to her surprise, it came out well for her side, especially when you spoke again.
"Natasha and I..." You breathed out deeply, nervously plucking the skin on your fingers beneath the view of this man. "Are just two people who weren't supposed to be in love but did. The reason we can't tell anyone we work with is because of my promotion that's coming up, and we don't want them to think that I only got that because we're in a relationship... We don't want that, of course."
"Promotion?" Natasha raised her brow.
You continued, feeling more confident this time, "We both felt that it wouldn't be the right time to reveal everything, so we kept our relationship secret to everyone. As I said, we don't want them to think that I'm getting promoted just because we are... you know."
"So," He mumbled. "Do your parents know about this?"
"Uh, parents. Don't have one." Natasha quickly cut in, "Adaptive ones, sure, but we've lost contact since I was just a child. Technically, no parents on my side to tell this about."
Loki faced you, "And you? Are your parents dead?"
"No." Your boss answered easily for you, "Hers are very much alive, and oh, in fact, we're actually planning to tell them this weekend on her Lola's 90th birthday celebration. The whole family's coming together, and we thought it'd be a nice surprise."
This eavesdropping woman!
"And where is this party happening?" Loki questioned eagerly to Natasha, like he just sensed something as he squinted his eyes for some flaws in Natasha's words.
"At Y/n's parents house, of course." The Russian answered confidently with a small chuckle.
"And where is that located again?" He pushed, making Natasha mentally curse herself and the man in front of her.
"Um," Natasha scoffed. "Why am I doing all the talking? Baby, come on, it's your parent's house. Tell him where it is!"
"Mexico."
"Mexico," Natasha repeated.
You continued, "Philippines."
"Philippines?" She looked at you with wide eyes but said nothing else.
"So you're going to fly to the Philippines this weekend?" Loki asked with raised brows.
"Yeah." You both agreed, feeling Natasha's hesitance in her tone but disregarding it otherwise because, well, you two don't have a choice; that much is obvious.
"We are going to the Philippines," Natasha informed, touching your shoulder for some fake affection. "That's where my baby's from."
"Fine." Loki sighed, disappointed that he couldn't squeeze you enough to admit anything right now. "I see how this is going to go. I'll have to see you both at 11 by Monday morning for your scheduled interview, and your answers better match up on every account, or else..."
"Thank you, Sir." You stood up immediately to shake his cold hands, while Natasha stood up to answer the call from her phone.
You sighed, shoulders slumping as you showed your way out with Natasha's nose glued to her phone by your side.
Everything inside your head is noisy, and it makes you want to burst out, but every time you open your mouth, nothing comes out, which frustrates your whole being because, my god..
What did you get yourself into?
"Okay." Natasha finally broke the loud silence, snapping you out of your thoughts. "What's going to happen is we'll go down there and pretend that we're girlfriends, then tell them we're engaged. Book our flights. First class. And oh, confirm the vegan meal for me, okay? Because the last time, they actually gave it to a vegan and they forced me to eat this slimy, clammy, creamy salad thingy, which was really—hey, why aren't you taking notes?"
"I'm sorry, were you not in that room?" You sarcastically questioned with furrowed brows.
"What?" Natasha looked at you confusedly before she flashed you a small (not real) smile. "Oh! The thing about the promotion! That's a good one; he fell for it."
"I was serious." You muttered, "I'm looking at a $250,000 fine and five years in jail. That changes things."
"Promote you to a higher position that you're not capable of? No, no way." She scoffed.
You rolled your eyes with a shrug. "Then I quit, and you're screwed. Bye, Natasha."
And just as you were about to walk out, you heard her call you again, making you smirk to yourself.
"Fine. Fine!" Natasha frowned. "I'll promote you, fine—if you do this whole weekend in the Philippines thing and the immigration thingy, you'll get what you ask for. Happy?"
"Not in two years, but right away," You challenged.
"Fine!" She gave in with a groan, and you grinned at how you finally got her to agree with you for the first time ever since you worked for her.
"Now ask me nicely, Natasha." You smirked subtly.
"Ask you nicely, what?" She looked up from her phone, confused.
"Ask me nicely to marry you."
"What does that mean?" The redhead Russian asked with a tone that says she's losing her patience, but nah, you have the upper hand this time, and you sure damn hell you'll make the most out of it.
"You heard me." You gestured to her. "On your knees."
"What the f-" You raised your brow at her in warning, causing her to stop in mid-sentence before she began kneeling down with her sarcastic smile and dangerous eyes. "Y/n.."
"Yes?" You teased.
"Sweet, sweet, Y/n." Natasha did an adorable pout, looking like she's a puppy begging for food, but of course, it was mixed with sarcasm as usual. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"
You hummed for good measure, pretending to think as you looked away.
"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, but that'll do it." You shrugged. "See you tomorrow, boss!"
And with that, you left her almost falling flat on her face if it wasn't for her attentive skills that she caught herself and saved herself from the embarrassment as she cursed you in her mind.
Off to the Philippines we go!
Taglist (that I forgot yet again, sorry 😭): @taliiiaasteria @marvels--slut @freeyanna
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bucknastysbabe · 1 year
Note
Hi, I am literally awful at making requests and I really hope you’re currently taking requests but I read your fic about Chubby!Bucky and was wondering if you could reverse it, like a short plus size reader and normal movie like Bucky , but not one where he just accepts her body because looks aren’t important but one where he worships her body, he doesn’t just think curves are okay for a woman he loves curves on a woman, you can make it an established relationship or a not, I prefer it not to be an established relationship but just write whatever flows. A smut story would be what I am asking for, some light dom!bucky sub!reader. If it’s not too much to ask can you throw in a kissing/spit kink, not too much focus on spitting but about slobbery messy kisses. Sorry if this is a rambling mess but I hope you can work with it, thank you, love your writing. 💜
YES I GOTCHU!! Always taking requests. Also I got what you meant don’t put yourself down DAMMIT *angry pointing*!! Sorry for the wait had a writers block moment this week but hope you enjoy :)
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Big softie buck luvs his chubby gf
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1,830
Tags: V!fingering, rough sex, pnv!sex, sloppy kissing, dirty talk, fluff and smut, Bucky is Babie, plus size!reader
A/N: Idk where the breeding kink hopped in but y’know how it be folks.
Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the states. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.
Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones. His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself.
He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching on the super-soldier.
Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed them on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
She sniffled, “Don’t need em- I got you.” The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.
Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up. The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news aren’t good for my nerves.”
Bucky wanted to sappily get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”
As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes slightly water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple busted into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”
He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.
“So tell me about that project, baby.”
He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, words slightly stumbling. Bucky figured it was time for a wakeup call. So he grabbed a handful of ass, smirking lecherously.
She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, y’feel so good I lost control.” He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.
“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”
Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only Bucky gets to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.
She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”
He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.” He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.
She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”
He growled, “Open.”
The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.
“Please, fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears pricking.
Bucky grabbed a soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.
It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, practically rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.
Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thickly against his cock and now all of her soft parts for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.
Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”
She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, almost curling in on herself.
“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.
An annoyed whine was his response.
So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin. The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed even prettier, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.
Her head fell back again the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled around it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.
She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”
He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.
Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his smooth palm against her clit.
The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His sweetie wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”
That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.
She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his hand out of her. He could bust right now at the slick coating his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.
They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.
Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the absolutely pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.
He gripped onto her wide hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Basically a cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so fucking good.
Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”
She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.
She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.
He slumped into the couch, still seating inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her soft midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”
Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”
She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”
“Well I could count two since you’re in my lap.”
“Hush.”
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