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prettyinpink350 · 2 hours

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Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom.

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place.

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place.

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns.

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash.

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.”

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger.

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints.

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.”

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her.

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world.

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog.

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.”

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you.

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.”

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on.

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.”

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile.

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.”

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces.

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.”

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos.

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing.

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades.

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks.

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same.

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?”

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.”

“Right.”

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep!

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue.

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.”

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none.

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him.

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.”

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder.

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.”

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.”

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks.

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.”

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?”

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face.

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly.

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?”

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.”

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid.

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.”

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly.

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted.

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.”

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches.

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well.

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...”

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves.

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.”

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly.

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.”

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.”

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom.

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding.

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?”

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.”

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall.

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat.

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands.

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.”

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall.

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant.

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm.

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--”

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.”

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff.

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.”

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--”

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.”

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch.

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility.

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prettyinpink350 · 12 hours

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the girl next door 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

As your mother waits in her chair, watching the window, dolled up in her nicest skirt, with her hair pressed and her eyes lined, you follow the directions on the containers of the premade grocer meals. Roast the potatoes, veggies too, and heat up the chicken. It’s very easy, even for you.

You set the table as the oven warms up and put out the nice plates you never touch. You fold napkins under the cutlery like you’ve seen on television and in restaurants, not that you ever go anywhere by the drive thru. It looks nice. Sort of.

You hear the recliner creak and your mother get up. The doorbell rings and you jump. You rush into the entry way as your mother looms in the front archway. You look at her and she sends back and expression with deadly venom. You go to the door and steady yourself, slowly turning the latch.

You pull it open and muster a smile which must appear closer to a cringe, “hello, uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Steve smiles, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. “How are you?”

“Mm, good,” you mumble.

“Great, I brought you ladies some flowers,” he looks between you and your mother as she steps into the hallway. “Something to brighten up the place.”

“Oh my, thank you, Steve,” your mother rushes forward, her left foot thumping a bit heavier than the other, “that is so sweet of you.”

As she snatches the bouquet, a petal flies loose from her tremor. She brings them to her nose, nearly crushing them into her face as her cheek quivers. She’s overexcited and her symptoms more obvious. You step aside as she beckons in your guest.

“You two look nice,” Steve comments as she stops to remove his shoes. His hair is combed tidy back and he wears an oceanic button-up with khakis. He is indiscernible from any other suburban dweller.

“Thank you,” your mother preens and you echo her softly. “Please, come in. I think dinner’s almost ready.”

She glances at you and you nod, “yes, uh, I’ll... go do that.”

You feel Steve watching you. You shrink down and cross your arm over your middle and back away. You turn and shuffle down to the kitchen. You feel how the skirt and sweater let in the breeze around your thighs and reach to tug the hem.

“Grab a vase for the flowers too, honey.”

You let her words trail after you. Honey. The epithet isn’t dripping in her usual poison. You go and open the stove, letting out the aroma of seasoning. It should be almost there.

You search under the sink and find an old mint green vase. You wash it out and fill it with cool water. You bring it out to the dining room and set it on the table. You can hear your mother and Steve in the next room.

She shoves the flowers at you before you can say a word. You take them as she keeps her attention on your guest.

“How’s the house coming along?” She asks in a singsong, “you’ve been doing so much work, I’m surprised you could make the time for us.”

“Of course. Nice to have a few friendly faces around. Not gonna lie though, I do have fridge full of casseroles already.”

You go back to place the stems in the vase. You linger there, safely away from their conversation. You have nothing to add anyway. You’re best to keep an eye on the food.

“Ugh, really? Let me warn you about this place, those bleach blondes aren’t as chipper as they put on,” your mother sneers as you wait for the gravy to simmer.

You don’t think the people around the neighbourhood are bad. They’re just different. Besides, you can’t blame them for their judgment. You might feel the same if you were like them. If you were pretty and perfect and rich.

You hover by the stove and stop the timer before it can buzz. You take out each pan and transfer the contents to thick porcelain serving dishes. You bring them to the table, one at a time.

“Mom, er, Steve?” You peer into the front room, “dinner is ready.”

“Oh, finally, I’m starving,” your mom sighs.

“Smells good. What are we having?” Steve gestures your mom ahead of him, waiting patiently as she moves stiffly. You can see the struggle in the stitch between the brows as how she stops herself from bracing her hip. She’s embarrassed.

“Roast chicken, potatoes, and grilled broccoli,” you explain, watching awkwardly as he pulls out the chair for your mom.

Your mom sits and Steve tucks the chair in. He surprises you as he rounds the table towards you and slides out another chair. You stare at him and your lips part.

“The gravy,” you squeak.

You quickly retreat to the kitchen. You pour the gravy into the spouted dish and balance it by the handle. You carry it carefully through the door and trip on the slightly crooked divider on the floor. The contents slosh and a splatter lands on your white sweater.

You frown and put the grave dish on the table. Steve lingers as he was. You look down at your sweater and he reaches for one of the spare napkins, holding it out to you. You thank him and sit, letting him push the chair in under you. You dab at your sweater but the brown stains remain.

As he sits, just by your mother, she was sure to sit where she would be next to him, you put the crumpled napkin by your plate. Your mother arches her brow at the front of your sweater. You raise your shoulders and give an apologetic look as you slip the cardigan off. You untangle your arms from the fabric and let it droop to the seat.

Steve smiles at you again. Your face is on fire, your chest too. The dress really doesn’t fit right.

“You made all this?” He asks.

“Heh, she bought it and put it in the oven,” your mom tuts. “She’s not the most gifted cook and... and my hands aren’t steady enough for that anymore.”

“Ah, well, food is food,” he shrugs, “regardless, it looks delicious.” He reaches for the plates of chicken and catches the tongs before the can fall, “may I?”

Your mother’s lips curl and she nods, “by all means.”

He puts a piece on her plate, then his own. He sets it back before he grabs the bowl of potatoes and scoops up a heap besides the marinated breast. Finally, he shovels on the broccoli.

You meekly fill your own plate, though you leave it sparse. Just a piece of chicken, a tiny bit of potatoes, and some broccoli. Your stomach is uneasy. You’re not used to company. You poke around with your fork.

“You know, Holly, I finally got all the furniture where I want it but I don’t know,” Steve begins, cutting into his chicken, “I think it needs something... a woman’s touch, maybe?”

“Mmm,” your mother nods and squints.

“I wouldn’t mind picking your brain. Maybe you have some suggestions. I got all these paintings but not really sure where to put them, you know?”

“Right,” she put a sliced potato in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. She swallows and takes her napkin, shakingly blotting around her coloured lips, “well, suppose I could give you a few tips.”

“Really?” He asks, “that would be amazing.”

“Not a problem at all,” she grins, “I could drop by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that will be nice,” he agrees.

You sit quietly, keeping your face blank. You won’t mention how your mother complained when you tried to hang some of your drawings just in your same room. She always said art was a waste of time. No, you’ll say nothing. You’re better off that way.

“And uh, you’re welcome too,” Steve offers across the table and your eyes flick up to meet his, “if you want. Don’t want to leave you out.”

You glance at your mother. Her eyes narrow and you gulp, nearly choking on the potatoes. You take a breath and push your shoulders up, “actually, I was planning on... uh, I’m busy.”

You can’t even come up with a lie. Not a solid one. Just busy. Busy being alone. Busy hiding.

“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, how about once I get the barbecue fired up, you both come over for a cookout?”

“Lovely,” your mother chimes. “But tomorrow, I’ll swing by,” she squeezes her fork as it tings against the plate. Her tremor is getting bad. “Be nice to get out.”

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prettyinpink350 · 19 hours

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The Man 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You lift your head and stare at the man. Floyd or Lloyd or whatever his name is. You grimace and stand straight. You know better than to say anything but you have no idea what to do.

“You know, this ain’t half bad,” he holds up the cup, turning it slowly between his thick fingers, “at least you got that going for ya.”

You blink. You look down and unfold your jacket. You pull it on over your still damp uniform, the bitter scent of espresso wafting up. You untangle your purse strap and slide out your phone. You’re going to have to do something; start job hunting or call your mother and tell her you messed up again.

As soon as you have a grip on your phone, it’s out of your hand. That man has it in his free hand, thumbing through it as the face recognition caught your image just enough to unlock before being accosted. You take a step forward and stop yourself, as deterred by the steaming coffee as by Bre’s warnings.

You watch him scroll and flick and tap. You are at a loss. In more way to one.

He pokes his tongue out, feeling the hairs of his mustache before his mouth seals. His cheek dimples as his blue eyes reflect the screen. He hums dully and curls his lip.

“Boring,” he shoves the phone back you.

You take it, barely catching it before it falls out of his hand. Just as quickly, he latches onto your wrist. You squeak and tug back in shock. He keeps a hold on you and bring the cup to his mouth. He uses his teeth to pop the lid off and let’s it drop to the ground. He raises the cup above you.

“No, please!” You beg as you look up.

He guffaws and tips it slightly then pulls it back as you whimper. He keeps it over you as he squeezes your arm until it hurts. Your eyes are almost crossed as you stare up at another caffeine deluge.

“You gonna cry for me? Come on. I want more, baby cakes. Let me see those tears.”

“Please, sir--”

He chuckles, “there it is,” he purrs and retracts his arm, swigging from the cup with a loud sigh to cap it off, “you know, that’s all I wanted. Respect.”

He lets you go and you bend your arm to your chest, rubbing your wrist. He swirls the cup and takes one last gulp, draining it and tossing it onto the cracked pavement. You watch the cup bounce around as the wall of his body keeps you penned in the alley.

You look up at him dolefully. You just want to slink home in shame. He got his victory. You wipe your wet cheeks and sniff back the last of your grief. You’ll find another coffee shop, hopefully far from this man.

“You know, that was so delicious, I’m feeling nice. Why don’t I give you a ride?” He offers, “you in a hurry? Got somewhere to be?”

He's mocking you. Your cheeks pinch and you webbed lashes flutter. You shake your head, “no thank you, sir.”

You take a step to the side and he mirrors you. You stop and peer up at him. You frown. There’s no getting past him. He’s tall and surely stronger than you. Not to mention the obvious disparities between you.

“Pardon me, sir,” you gesture past him, “may I get through?”

“I didn’t dismiss you,” he tilts his head, “get in the car.”

Your eyes skitter back and forth. You see a car by the curb. It’s flashy enough that you can match it to the man before you. His command makes your stomach mulch. It’s not a good idea.

“That’s really nice of you but uh... I don’t live very far.”

“Not asking,” he crosses his arms and widens his stance, “you got a thick head, don’t ya?”

You wince. Why does he have to be so rude? Your lip pokes out and your brows furrow.

“You don’t have to be such a meanie,” you murmur.

He scoffs and raises a hand to cup his ear, “what was that, sweet lips? Gonna have to speak up.”

“You’re a meanie,” you say loud and grip the strap of your bag, “and I don’t want a ride from a meanie.”

You stamp your foot and turn. You march away, heart-racing, mind too. You don’t know what you’re doing but you know you should be doing it. Still, you can’t stop yourself. If you don’t get away from him, you’re going to do something even worse.

You’re not sure what’s at the other end of the alley. You’re still learning the city. You refuse to look back as you pass the dumpster. A cackle follows you, echoing along the brick walls.

“Oh, cupcake,” he calls after you with delightful spite, “big fucking mistake.”

Your feet hammer faster on the ground. You’re dizzy with fear and dread. As you get to the far end of the alley and come out onto the street, you dare to glance behind you. You see him standing there, glaring at you. He stays like that for a moment longer before he turns on his heel.

He disappears and the distant hum of an engine sees him away. You frown and turn to face the unfamiliar street. He’s gone now but you know you haven’t seen the last of him.

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prettyinpink350 · 1 day

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Yours, ours, mine.

Imagine you are Bucky's wife. Steve has retired. He came back, after returning the stones. He gave Sam the shield. Steve lives with you and Bucky.

The more Steve sees you and Bucky, the more he pictures such life for himself. He fucks around with random girls. But all he can imagine is your face. Moaning your name, everytime he comes.

You roam freely in the house, having no clue about Steve's fascination with you.

He has set a camera in your bedroom. He jerks himself to the sight, of you and Bucky having sex. He is obsessed with your curves and figure. He loves seeing you naked.

When Bucky is out for work, Steve gets all touchy with you. You try to maintain distance. So he comes with a solution. He adds sleeping pills in your tea. Once you are knocked out, he sleeps next to you. Gently undresses you. Paying extra attention to your pussy, sucking your breasts like his life depends on them. Hands exploring your body, like he is worshipping you.

But he wants more. He wants to be balls deep buried in you.

He starts to gaslight Bucky. Picking up on his insecurities. "What if she gets bored of being alone for months, when you are out on missions?", "what about her needs?", "what if she finds someone else?".

Bucky pleads to him to stop. Steve assures him, he'll take care of you. Steve makes Bucky say that "Bucky himself is okay with Steve taking care of your his needs."

Bucky leaves for the mission happily, relieved his best friend will take care of you.

Steve is happy, to finally make you his.

You have no clue about this.

(Should I write about this?)

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prettyinpink350 · 1 day

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IDIOTS IN LOVE

Steve Rogers x F! Reader

incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony

Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.

“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”

“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.

“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”

“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-

“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”

You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”

You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.

You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”

Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.

“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.

You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.

The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.

A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.

The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.

“I know! Old people are the cutest.”

“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”

You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.

“Y/N? Earth to--”

“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.

She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”

“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.

You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”

Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.

“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”

Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.

Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.

You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.

Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.

You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?

Then, it hits you. Natasha.

Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”

Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.

“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”

You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.

As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.

Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?

“Hey.”

The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”

You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass yourself in front of him again.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.

You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.

“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”

Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.

“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.

“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.

You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”

You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”

You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”

“Y/N-”

“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,

Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”

Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.

You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.

As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.

You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.

You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.

It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?

As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.

“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”

“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”

It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”

You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.

“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.

“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”

The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?

“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”

“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”

As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.

It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.

As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”

Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.

Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.

The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.

“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.

“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.

You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?

“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”

“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”

Steve was blabbering on about you?

“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.

You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.

You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.

"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.

Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."

You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.

"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.

You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."

"No come on!"

As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.

Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.

All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In the gym ma’am.”

You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”

“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”

You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”

Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.

You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.

Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.

Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.

“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”

You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”

You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”

The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.

Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.

You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”

“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.

“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”

Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”

“Cause none of them were you.”

You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”

“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.

“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.

Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”

“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”

Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”

“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”

Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.

Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”

You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.

It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.

You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.

THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3

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prettyinpink350 · 1 day

Text

the girl next door 3

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

This lewk but silverfox

The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat.

“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.”

You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity.

“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.”

You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you.

You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty.

You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat.

“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.”

As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt.

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.”

“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?”

You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you.

“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.”

Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.”

“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly.

“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?”

You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.”

“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass.

“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?”

“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.”

“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.”

Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air.

“HOA,” you put in quietly.

“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.”

“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles.

“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.”

You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.”

He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose.

“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward.

You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage.

“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight.

Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours.

“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.”

“No thanks,”

“I don’t mind,” he insists.

“I can manage.”

“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?”

You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod.

“You take care of her?” He prompts.

“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.”

“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.”

You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad...

You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh.

“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.”

You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree.

“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.”

It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill.

“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk.

“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.”

“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep.

The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger.

You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top.

As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers.

He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd.

Or maybe you’re just awkward.

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prettyinpink350 · 1 day

Text

the girl next door 4

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

This lewk but silverfox

Even if the work is a lot and at times tedious, you’re grateful for the excuse to stay inside. As you hole yourself inside the house and tidy the messes, big and small, you can hear the conversations out the walls, wafting in through open windows. It’s as content as your mother’s been in the last few years. Steve is nice enough and he doesn’t have that same snooty lean as the other suburbanites.

As you mop, you think of how he mentioned the city. You wonder what it was like. Before your grandma passed, you and your mom lived in a walk-up in a small town. Everyone there knew your names too and reviled it just the same. You never mean any harm but wherever you go, you seem to inspire spite.

Dishes, floor, walls, dusting, errant cobwebs, clutter...

You work until your mother comes in, swinging the door violently as she drags herself inside. You go to help her and she swats you away. You retreat and she finds her way to the recliner. You shut the door and lock it.

“Wonderful man,” she groans as she lays her head back and tilts the chair, extending the footrest, “don’t make ‘em like that anymore. He’s the sort I shoulda picked.” She closes her eyes and gives a wry hum, “’specially over your dad.”

You don’t say a word. She only mentions your father to remind you of that half of you she hates. You gather up the clothes on the couch into a basket. The laundry will have you up late. Your own fault; you should’ve done this all a lot sooner.

“Should I start dinner?” You ask.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for burnt chicken,” she scoffs meanly.

“I could do mac and cheese,” you offer.

“I’m teasing ya. Jeez, you got no sense of humour,” she sighs dreamily, “not like Steve. Such a charming man.”

You pass through the kitchen and descend to the basement to fill the washer. You add soap and twist the knob. You leave the basket on the lid and head back up. You peruse the fridge as you ponder what to make. Mac and cheese would be easiest.

You get started and the TV blips on in the next room. The audio helps chase away the tension. You leave the water to boil and lean on the archway that looks into the front room.

“Um, mom, what should I make tomorrow? For uh, dinner? With... him?”

“Well, don’t sound so damn excited,” she sits up, “whatsa matter with you? The nice man wants to come see us, unlike the rest of these snobs. My own sister won’t come through that door.” She snorts and shakes her head, “you can go to the store tomorrow and grab something nice. I don’t want ya serving that man starchy potatoes. Down at the fancy store, they got those premade meals.”

“Those are expensive,” you remark.

“And? You get your stipend, you don’t gotta be leeching off of me,” she snips.

“Um, yes, I know, I wasn’t--”

“God, look at that,” her eyes flick up to the ceiling, goddamn dusty, it’s a wonder I can breathe.”

You look up and see what she means. There’s a layer of dusty on the ceiling fan as it turns lazily on its lowest setting.

“I’ll get it--”

“Better. You’re not gonna embarrass me tomorrow. I’d be better off if you stay in your room,” she tuts.

“If you want--”

“No, you come out and say hi. Don’t be rude. You know I did try to teach you manners. You just never spoke enough to use them.”

You frown and look down meekly. She’s not wrong. You turn and go to grab the duster. You don’t think tomorrow is going to be any different than any other.

🏠

The next morning, go out to the grocery store to grab the meal for that evening. As you return, you linger at the end of the street. You can see Steve on his lawn. You wait for him to go inside before you drive up and pull into the driveway.

You carry the bags inside with your sights set on the house and nothing else. Inside, you put down your haul on the counter and put each item away, one at a time. Your mother is in the bathroom, chirping out a song out of key.

“God dammit,” she snarls, “I can’t find my red lipstick,” she rattles through her bin of makeup. She doesn’t wear it very often. “Get in here.”

Before you can pass the open door, her demand pulls you back. You enter as she sits on a stool in front of the mirror. She shoves the bin away and grumbles.

“Here,” she holds out a pair of tweezers with a tremble, “damn brows are unruly.”

You nod and step closer. You press a hand gently to her forehead and pluck out the stray hairs, shaping them as best you can.

“Don’t forget my lip,” she huffs hot breath onto you. “Don’t think he’ll like the tickle.”

She chuckles to herself. You don’t get it. You finish and step back, holding up the hand mirror for her. She shrugs.

“Get me some of that moisturizer,” she points unsteadily to the shelf above the toilet. You do as she says. “Mm,” she grumbles as you face her again, “not wearing that, are ya?”

You look down. The loose tee shirt with butterflies on it and the faded jeans are a bit plain. You tug on the hem and raise your head.

“You got a dress somewhere in there,” she shakes her head as she flips the cap up on the bottle after three tries. “I bought you some nice ones and you never put them one.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, I’ll check,” you promise. “Need help?”

You reach for the bottle and she keeps it out of your reach. You back up and leave her. You can sense her agitation growing.

You cross the hall to your bedroom and go to the closet. You slide the door open and sift through the contents hung from the bar. There’s a dress. A pink polka dot dress she got you in high school. Nothing special; a bargain bin cotton a-line with thin straps.

You take it out and examine it. That was the only dance you went to. You got stood up by the boy who asked you. You realise now it was only ever a joke at your expense.

You undress by your bed and put the dress on. It’s tight. Maybe it’s shrunk or maybe you’ve gotten bigger. You didn’t think your chest had grown that much since high school but it’s bulging out and your thighs feel a bit too exposed. You go into the hall and back into the bathroom. You shift the door as you mother works as spreading the eye cream above her cheekbones.

You look at your reflection and cringe. You turn to your mom.

“It’s too small,” you say to her.

She peers over with a scowl. She looks you up and down and drops the tube of cream. She shakes her head.

“Put a sweater over it,” she sneers, “it’s fine.”

“Right, uh, okay,” you agree and swallow. Even with a sweater, you don’t know. The skirt won’t be any longer.

“Would ya stop crowding me?” She shoos you tersely.

You push the door back against the wall and slip out of the bathroom. You head back to your bedroom and pick out a grey cardigan. It has no buttons but it’s at least as long as the dress. It’s better than feeling so exposed.

You hardly think it will matter. You already feel like a third wheel. Steve didn’t exactly spend hours talking to you and your mother as much as said you are collateral. They’re both just putting up with you because you’re there.

You run your hands over your face and hair. Can't dress that up. You pout at your reflection. You wish you could iust hide on your room and draw.

You look over at your sketchbook and cross the room. You sit on your bed and slide the folding table close. You open the pages and pick up the pencil. You straighten the page you tore from the old home and garden magazine and copy the shape of the amaryllis petals.

You can forget a little longer until real life wakes you up.

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prettyinpink350 · 2 days

Text

I'm Your Man Verse

a short series featuring Andy Barber as a soft dark mafia boss who set his sights on you and never plans to let you go

While Andy Barber was well-known in Boston, there are whispers of a darker side, but few know the depths of his darker side. He's successful, he's charming, he's generous, and you're about to find out just how dangerous he can be.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] DUBIOUS CONSENT, extortion, explicit smut: oral (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, spitting, dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, financial spoiling

COLLECTION:

I'm Your Man [3k]

Morning Radiance [750]

Prepare for Takeoff [1.5k]

ask: a moment on your honeymoon [350]

Make Her Glow [1k]

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prettyinpink350 · 3 days

Text

the girl next door 1

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

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prettyinpink350 · 3 days

Text

Omega retreat : chapter 4

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Omega reader

Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, General Discomfort, nothing is what it seems, fluff, heart ache

Word count : 2131

Masterlist

He was very understanding when you asked him to give you time to think about his invitation. It was the turning point you hoped to avoid just a little longer, appreciating instead that you could be just like any other normal girl. Yet, some things couldn't be left on the back burner.

The untouched notification continued to light up your inbox, no doubt just being the website’s way of ensuring their reservation went through and they would be paid.

You turned over to look at your phone and the little banner still sitting at the top that said, “You’ve been invited to reserve a cabin by JAMES BARNES.”

It was fitting that he’d picked the Gold Package, and you had to admit, a sexy getaway was incredibly tantalizing.

Yet, everything felt rushed, and you knew exactly why. You knew you were always going to give in, but ever since that conversation at the hospital, you wanted so badly for every choice to at least be your own. Something you wanted to do, not be coerced by circumstances.

You told yourself every second after you’d logged into your computer, your eyes still heavy with broken sleep, that this was still your decision. Accepting the invite would be your decision, no matter what reason you had to make it.

With one simple click, it was done, a cascade of hearts flooding the screen as their little mascot hopped around with joy. It was cute, yet still a little cheesy.

You set the computer aside before laying back on the bed and letting the small streaks of sun coming in from the window warm your skin. You felt so oddly relieved, yet still so anxious. It was a good start, better than what you had before.

A small ding sang through the peaceful morning, and once again you emerged from your little sheet cocoon to grab your phone from the nightstand. It was a message from Bucky, and he seemed as excited as ever to have gotten your confirmation.

‘Good morning :D’

You smiled at the message, feeling more relief spread through your tired body as you typed back.

‘Morning. I take it you got the notification.’

You watched as those three dots jumped inside the prospective chat bubble before two popped up at once.

‘I did indeed.’

‘You have no idea how happy this makes me.’

Everything he said always seemed to make your heart blossom with a new feeling of warmth. It really put into perspective how tiring all that stress and anxiety really was when it finally started to disappear.

Expressing his eagerness through text must not have been enough for him, as the phone buzzed to life in your hand before you could type another reply.

You didn’t hesitate to answer it, and your belly fluttered at the low rumble of his voice as it sang through the speaker.

“Hey, doll”

“Hi. You miss me already?”

You heard him chuckle softly, probably smiling at the bashful tone in your voice. “I hope I’m not coming on too strong.”

“No! I think it’s really sweet.”

It was nice to have someone care this much about your needs, especially above their own. It was someone who wanted to take care of you at what may well be your weakest.

You hear him clear his throat for a second, shaking the sweet and sugary vibe that the conversation had started on. “Do I have the date right? If not, then I can fix the reservation..”

“No, you remembered very well. I’m actually surprised.”

“I guess I’m just excited.”

“That makes two of us; I’m practically shaking in my boots.”

He laughed back at your goofy little retort, and you giggled nervously along with him.

“I was kind of afraid you’d say no.” His voice seemed to fall again as he spoke, giving you a glimpse of a few insecurities of his own. “Like, maybe I scared you away.”

“As if.” You laughed it off immediately, bemused at the thought that he’d consider himself anything more than the teddy bear he’d shown you.

“I needed some time to take it in for a second. I just felt so much in the moment, ya-know.” You smiled down at the phone as you spoke, hoping you could melt his fears just as he did yours. “Believe me, you're not scary one bit.”

You swear you could feel the laugh he’d let out as you chuckled with him.

He’d talked to you for hours, showering you with compliments as he finalized the details of your trip.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take that time off? It is pretty soon.” You stepped around your kitchen, looking for a mug to pour some coffee into. Bucky watched your shapely form as it moved across his screen, smiling to himself before you turned back to the phone and caught his eyes wondering.

The conversation had since evolved into a video call, letting you see the actual smile on his face. There would be glimpses of the rough grain in his facial hair and the deepening blue of his eyes, but there were finer details that you couldn’t see.

You wanted to see so much more, and soon you will. That thought alone made you feel so much happier.

He brushed his hair back with his fingers, leaving a thick lock behind his ear and a few strands to fall back across his forehead and cheek.

“I’ll be just fine; help to be your own boss.”

“Oh? Big boss, man, huh?”

He huffed a chuckle before he spoke back, “A story for another time, but I’ll tell you now it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

You gave him a little pout.

“What about you?” He asked, in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation back to the original question.

“Oh, I always get my heat off. It’s kinda like that for Omega’s.”

You were more than lucky to work in an environment that was so welcoming to people like you, and you were sure that your supervisor would understand.

“Makes sense..” You watched his eyes wander from the screen as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. It looked so out of date that it was no wonder why he only used the webcam on his computer.

“Nice flip phone, grandpa.”

He laughed back at you with “gee thanks, doll” before tossing down the bad news. “I gotta go.”

“Awe, already.”

“Yeah, nothing like a work emergency on a Saturday.” You watched him toss the phone on his desk offscreen before turning back to you. “I can’t wait to see you, Omega.”

“I can’t wait either, Alpha.” You felt his eyes shift as you spoke, as if finally hearing you say his denomination so diffidently.

You tapped the red button on the phone screen, ending the call before you turned it off and set it aside.

By mid-afternoon, you’d since decided to knock out a few of your household chores. You were already elbow deep in some soapy dishwater when you heard another familiar ringtone. You fumbled for the dish towel nearby to dry your pruney fingers before grappling with your phone.

You accepted the call and called back a sweet greeting to one of your favorite people.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a few days..” Her concern was sweet, but you were quick to cut her short, not wanting another reminder of the previous incident.

“I’m fine, mom.”

She sighed back, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I know.”

“Any news?” Her voice lightened, truly hoping there would have been an update on your condition and even more so that it was promising.

There was plenty of news, wonderful news that you weren’t ready to break to your worrisome mothers just yet.

Better now than never, it seemed, “I met someone.”

“Oh?”

She didn’t sound happy, and every second afterward that she left you in silence made your once-airy mood deflate.

"He's uh...He’s an alpha.” Your jaw only tightens further as you wait for an answer back. Anything would be better than another ‘oh?’

“Well, that’s nice. W-where did you two..meet?” Her discomfort was never easily hidden, but at least she was trying.

“We met on this dating site, and we’ll be spending some time together soon.”

“I see. So is it a date to a cafe or dinner?”

“We’re going away for...." You struggled to find the words, "...it’s just this vacation rental somewhere quiet and calm.”

“Oh, a getaway. Sounds nice, but... you know your cycle will be coming soon. It’s probably best to be careful.”

“I-I'll be taken care of..."

“Are you sure? I can always be there to take care of you in case of another emergency.”

You felt your stomach tighten a little as she spoke.

“That’s actually why we’ll be out of town.” Your toes shifted along the floor, carting you to the fridge so you could grip the handle to better hold yourself upright.

She didn’t answer back right away, only giving you a weak “you can’t do that.”

It made the blood freeze in your veins, leaving your body tense against the refrigerator. “Mom..”

“Do you have any idea what might happen to you all that way from home?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“The hell you do. You can’t do this. I can’t lose you.”

She seemed to spiral nearly as badly as you did.

“If I go through another heat without a partner, you fucking will lose me.” You nearly wailed as you yelled back into the phone, only to be met with a few moments of dead air.

It made the frantic beat of your heart seem louder and louder. Proof that no matter how calm the waters felt, you couldn’t escape the truth that swam beneath them.

“Sweetheart, I only want you to be safe.”

You knock your head back against the fridge before letting your body slide along the side of it, letting the newly mounting anxieties drag you down to the floor. “I’m not safe alone, mom.”

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait for all this, and it’s not fair.” Her voice was just as weak as yours was now.

“It’s fine; I need to grow up sometime.” You said back, pulling your knees to your chest. You didn’t want to wallow in this disparity anymore; you were so sick of it all. It takes a single thought—a glimmer of hope shining through the dark clouds that have begun to circle around you.

You thought of Bucky.

“B..James’ is nice; I think you’d like him.” You had to quickly correct yourself, knowing his nickname had been sweet to you but could seem silly to others. You still remember the abashed laugh you gave when he first told you.

“Iâ€¦good, that’s good.”

You knew that wasn’t what she wanted to say, and now you weren’t afraid to say it instead.

“You think you’d like him more if you’d gotten to meet him.”

“I didn’t say that, but yes.” You hear her voice wavering as she speaks. “I’m glad, though, that he’s nice. I hope you have fun on your trip.”

“Thank you, mom.”

“Please be safe, sweetheart. I love you.”

You sighed for a second before telling her you loved her too, and the call came to an end. You were still hugging your knees, nearly curling in on yourself in your kitchen. The floor was uncomfortable, and you finally unfolded yourself and pushed off of it. You missed the careless feeling you’d had while talking to Bucky, lamenting how easily your mood had dipped like a sinking ship.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. Just when you thought you could escape the anxiety, it rounded its ugly head around each corner. Well, this time you wouldn’t be taking it lying down anymore.

You used this new momentum to spur yourself through the house and towards your bedroom. You bolted for your closet, determined now only to look ahead to your chance to get away from it all. You tore through your hung clothes, wanting to find anything that could impress your perspective, Alpha.

You found yourself leafing through more khaki shorts than you’d realized you’d owned. Faded sundresses and worn-out old sandals littered the pile, along with plain cotton panties in contrast to any lacy lingerie.

You still had a long way to go before you truly felt comfortable in your own skin. But certainly, a little shopping could do some good too.

There was a fire in your belly, burning you forward like an angry locomotive.

It will be a cold day in hell before anyone takes this opportunity away from you.

Tag list : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault

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prettyinpink350 · 6 days

Text

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her just roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time her and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a couple of weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!”

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left alone Bucky to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

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prettyinpink350 · 6 days

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prettyinpink350 · 6 days

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MY BEST FRIEND'S GIRL

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is in love with you, his best friend. But not in his wildest dreams can he imagine that his feelings are reciprocated. In a futile attempt at moving on, he finds himself a girlfriend, Priya. Unfortunately for you, her presence in Bucky's life comes as an unexpected and rather unpleasant surprise and you have to deal with the pain of losing the man you love to another woman.

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Word Count: 47k

General warnings & themes: angst, mutual pining, girlfriend!oc, aliens and arms dealers, canon-level violence, some explicit sexual content, mentions of sexual trauma.

I will add warnings to each chapter but please tell me if I've missed anything.

A/N: Shoutout to @samodivaa and @scoonsalicious for your valuable input and for listening to my crazy for the last month!

1: PRIYA & JAMIE

2: UNWELCOME DISTANCE

3: COMPANY

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

5: EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED

6: A FINE LINE

7: SPRING FLING

8: SURPRISE!

9: NEW DAWN

10: REVELATIONS

11: SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

12: MENDING FENCES

13: NEW BEGINNINGS

14: CRICKET & BUCKY

Posting schedule will be Tuesdays and Fridays

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prettyinpink350 · 6 days

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Boudoir Photo Shoot - Part 1

Avengers Bucky

Summary: Nat gifts you a Boudoir photo session to help you with your confidence. Your photos go missing when they're supposed to be delivered to you, but who has them???

Content warning: implied smut/adult relations, language, slightly intense/darker Bucky, little fluff if you squint.

Part 1/2

Read the smutty part 2 here (to be posted Apr 22)

"I don't know about this Nat..."

You looked at the gift certificate you were holding in your hands that had big bold letters that read 'Complimentary Boudoir Photo Shoot Session'.

You held it like it was someone's stinky sock.

"Come on, it'll be fun for you. Live a little Y/n!" Nat nudged your shoulder.

"Where did you even get this?" you asked.

"I have my ways" Nat shrugged.

Never mind. You really didn't want to know since you knew exactly what her 'ways' were for some things, so you left it alone.

"I know you want to. You're curious" she smirked at you.

"I think it'll be empowering" Wanda added.

"You think?" you asked looking at the piece of paper again.

Wanda and Nat both nodded.

"I don't know...I think I'll need to go shopping since I don't have anything to wear for it" you thought about it.

"Shopping? Where and when?" Sam chirped when he walked in the kitchen.

Steve and Bucky followed.

Your face instantly went red with Bucky being there. Your crush on the man was growing by the minute and you usually sweated and turned red in his presence which was really awesome of your body to do that to you.

Nat and Wanda knew your situation with Bucky and honestly, you think he figured it out because he teases you a little bit whenever he's around. He'll wink at you, tug on your ponytail, sit next to you and brush his hand over your arms and knees if he's reaching for something to see your reaction to him. It always unnerves you and makes those pesky butterflies fly.

The sad part is, you're too chicken to act on your feelings.

"I got Y/n a photo shoot" Nat shrugged.

You hoofed her under the table, and she bent over to rub at her ankle.

"Ouch" She glared at you but smirked when she saw Bucky watching you closely.

"Photo shoot? Does Tony need more lunch boxes with our photos on them or something?" Sam asked.

"This one is a little...different. Just for Y/n and more...grown up?" Wanda added.

"Grown up?" Steve thought about it, Sam and Bucky looked at each other and seemed confused.

"We're going shopping" Nat blurted out.

"We are?" you asked.

Wanda and Nat glared at you.

"Oh, right, we are."

You have no idea what is going on.

"Are you going to the mall?" Bucky asked.

You looked over at him not sure how to answer since you wanted to avoid the glares from Nat and Wanda.

"We're going to some place that has more...specialty items" Nat smirked.

"Sex shop then?" Sam blurted out.

Your face was flush like you just ran five miles in the hot summer sun. You saw Bucky watch you carefully before he smirked at you, like he was waiting to see your reaction.

"Kind of..." Wanda shrugged, and everyone's head snapped in her direction, then yours when you winced.

You could have sworn Bucky's eyes darkened a few shades while he watched you.

You were officially mortified. You didn't want ANYONE knowing about this, let alone Bucky.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll all have fun" Steve patted your back.

"Thanks" you squeaked out.

This was too much for you.

"Gotta go!" you shot up from the table, snatched the certificate from it, and hurried to your room.

Bucky watched your retreating back leave before he looked down and smiled to himself.

You got to your room and let out a breath when you closed your door. You flopped on your bed and brought your hand to your head, rubbing your temple with your fingers. You groaned in frustration. Nat knows you're not the most experienced with men. You barely date, hardly flirt at parties, and rarely leave the compound.

She sees your crush on Bucky and wanted to empower you to feel a little more confident, so she got you a time slot for a boudoir photo shoot. You're not the best with photo shoots to begin with, and you have no idea how this one is going to go, but you're going to have to go to a lingerie shop to get some things for it since your undergarment wardrobe mainly consists of sports bras and basic cotton bralettes. Not exactly sexy or alluring when you buy your undies from a package at the large chain store with your groceries and household items. This should be fun.

🩲

"Come on Y/n!" Nat waved you to the lingerie store that had Diva Desires written in pink scrolly font high above the door.

You scrunched your face up but got out of the car and headed into the store. The store was decorated in creams and blush pinks and had a lot of elegant displays showcasing nice silk and lacy garments. One side of the store seemed to have basic sets, and matching pieces, but the other side of the store seemed to have more colourful pieces, reds, lace, collars, studs, and black satin fabrics.

"How about this one?" Nat held up a black leather looking ensemble.

"Um..." your face went red.

"That seems a little much" your face was still red.

"This one is pretty" Wanda gushed at a flowy white flowery number.

Your head was spinning from the items they both held up and threw your way to inspect. It was overwhelming since the most risqué thing you owned was a simple black bra and one thong.

The sales associate started a room for you, placed you in there where you changed into a purple silky robe and waited for the onslaught of dainty delicates to be fired at you.

"Try this one...And this" as you saw heaps of items being slung over the door.

You grabbed the first one and almost sputtered. It was a black lacy number with ruffles and a see-through mesh material.

"Nat, this black one doesn't hide much" you called through the door.

"That's the idea" she chuckled.

"Fine" you groaned and put it on.

It fit you well and you liked the looks of yourself when Wanda tossed a red lacy babydoll over the door.

"This one too" you heard.

You admired the black get up a little longer, then took it off and added it to a 'maybe?' pile. You tried on the red babydoll Wanda tossed and again, it fit you well. It was surprisingly comfortable, and it looked nice on. You tossed it in the 'maybe' pile and waited for more.

The sales associate also threw in her options and you liked one of the dark blue sets she had, but Wanda and Nat giggled when you asked where the rest of it was. Your face was red at this point, but you managed to find a few decent sets you could use. After your session, they would be folded up and placed at the back of your closet, never to see the light of day again.

You came out of the fitting room with an armful of options Nat and Wanda both approved of. You had no idea the cost as Nat hid that from you, but you had a good since one of the outfits was well over $100 and you had five. Nat paid with her credit card, which you knew was linked to Tony's account, but didn't say anything else.

God, you hope Tony doesn't find out the items are yours and not Nat's. He wouldn't bat an eye if he knew the purchases were hers, but yours? Yeah, the teasing wouldn't stop, and you'd have to quit your job and move to Alaska.

🩲

You made it back to the compound with a bag full of pretty things. You decided to hand wash them all before you wore them, so you took the labels and tags off and threw them in your tub with some soap to soak when you heard a knock at your door.

"Come in!" you yelled.

It was probably Wanda or Nat.

The door opened but it was Bucky. He wandered in your room and looked around. He's never been in your room and your stomach flopped at the sight of him.

"Bucky?" you looked at him.

"Heard you were back" he shrugged.

He leaned against your desk and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Ah yeah. Just got back a little bit ago"

You saw Bucky look at the discarded lingerie tags and smirk.

"What did you end up getting?" he asked.

"Oh, well. A few things, nothing much. You know how Nat and Wanda are" you blushed.

"Hmm" Bucky replied then shot you a little smirk.

He knows. Dammit.

"Anything fun?" he pointed to a discarded tag that read "Luxury Lace" in bright red lettering.

You snatched it off your bed and threw it in the trash.

"That's not mine" you stood there awkwardly.

"Never said it was doll" Bucky winked at you.

Your stomach was doing cartwheels.

"And I'm guessing that one isn't yours either?" he pointed to another tag that read "Satin Secrets" .

Your eyes bugged out.

"Ok, out."

You pointed to your door making Bucky chuckle.

"Don't mind me, just curious"

"What are you doing here anyways?"

You herded him to your door. Your face was red, and you were all sweaty, your usual response to the man.

"Nothin'. Just seeing if you were back and safe" he shrugged.

You stopped and looked at him.

"I'm always safe" you thought about it.

"I know. Just makin' sure" he shrugged.

"See you later dollface" he winked at you while you closed your door in his face.

"Ugh" you groaned and headed to your bathroom to finish hand washing your items.

🩲

You stood inside the darkened studio and tried calming your heart rate. Just a few hours then it'll be over you chanted to yourself.

"Y/n?" a tall older blonde woman approached, interrupting your thoughts.

"Y-yeah. Hi" you blushed.

"Come in, come in, I'm Nora." She waved you further in the studio.

"I have the set ready for the first few shots". She pointed to an area that had a chair and wispy fabric hanging off it.

"Umm..." you looked around and blushed some more.

"Come! You have the deluxe package. I have my makeup and hair assistant in so she can help you get ready. I see you have the clothes picked out you want to wear then?" She pointed to your bag.

"Ye-Yeah". You held onto the bag like it was going to jump from your arms.

"Good. Follow me." She walked you down a hallway and into a private room where another woman stood.

"Here we are. When you're ready, Lori will walk you to the set. This is going to be so much fun!" Nora gushed before leaving you alone with Lori.

Lori asked to see your items you were going to wear so she had an idea about your make up and colouring. You placed everything out for her and she oohd and ahhd at the items before she got her palettes ready. She settled on some natural make up to start with, but wanted to go a bit more dramatic for the other shots since you had some darker pieces. She said it wouldn't take too long to switch up your look, so you were happy about that.

The less time the better in your opinion.

Your heart was racing, and you desperately wanted to run out the nearest exit, but you stayed since Lori made you look incredible. You changed into your first look, a simple creamy babydoll with lace appliques and matching lace boy shorts. You ran your hands up and down the fabric of your items and tried calming your breathing.

"Ok, you got this." You told yourself over and over.

You put on a small bathrobe and Lori ushered you to the main photo shoot area.

"Hi Y/n. You can sit right there."

Nora pointed to the chair in the middle of the set. You gulped and then walked up to it and plunked yourself down.

"I have to get some lighting re-set, give me a minute. Oh, are you wearing that?"

Nora pointed to the bathrobe you had securely wrapped around you. You looked down and shook your head no.

"No, I wasn't sure if I should take it off or leave it."

Nora stopped what she was doing and smiled at you. She's seen this lots.

"You're safe here. It's just me and Lori, it's a closed and locked building. No one else will see you" she assured you which settled your anxiety slightly.

"Ok."

You got up and took off the robe and tossed it aside. You bit your bottom lip nervously as Nora got her lighting re-positioned and then she grabbed her camera.

"Are you ready beautiful?" she asked.

You sucked in a breath and nodded. Here goes nothing.

🩲

"So you had a nice time then?" Nat asked while she flopped down on your bed.

"It was fun actually. Kind of freeing in a weird way? I mean it was only Nora and myself on the set. Lori stayed in the makeup room, but yeah, it was nice" you shrugged.

"When will the photos be ready?"

You thought about what Nora told you.

"Two to three weeks. They're getting mailed to me. Nora is putting them together in an album and sending me some frames if I want to print any off."

You sat next to Nat and smiled to yourself. As if you would print any of them off. Like where would you display those? You were also nervous since the mail delivery at the compound was spotty at best. Often, you got other people's mail delivered to you amongst yours, and your mail was sometimes delivered to the floor above you.

You cringed thinking who was above you.

Bucky.

Surely, he wouldn't open any package addressed to you right?

"So, did you learn anything new to you know, help...you?" Nat asked interrupting your thoughts.

"Nat!" you swatted her arm.

"What?" she held up her hands.

"Not really. Some of the poses were a little...awkward and hard to do. I needed a few hidden props to get the shot just right, but not really. Mainly it was me being posed and manipulated so the light was just right, or my outfit flowed just so. Nora really was respectful and made me feel comfortable" you admitted which was the truth.

"Good, I'm glad."

Nat got up from your bed and headed to the door.

"Training at 6am" she called over her shoulder making you groan.

"Yeah, yeah" you waved, and she left your room.

🩲

It was almost a month since your photo session and you were chatting with Nat in the kitchen.

"Do you know if Nora even sent it out?" she asked.

"I called her, and she said she mailed it well over a week ago. It should be here" you insisted.

"Did you ask the mailroom?"

"I've been stalking them for the past two weeks and nothing" you whispered.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't know! I'm stressed, ok? Someone somewhere out there has those photos of me!" you spat.

Nat patted your arm.

"Not like anyone would open a package not addressed to them. Probably returned it to Nora and she'll just resend it." Nat assured you.

"Nora said she would have a copy of them on a separate drive I can pick up in person if they don't turn up soon" you shrugged.

"I'm sure they'll turn up. Just wait another week then go in and pick up the drive" Nat patted your arm.

"Gotta head for a meeting with Tony" she got up and left the kitchen.

🩲

You made your way to the elevators to head to your room to flop dramatically on your bed. You didn't feel like training or doing anything else for the rest of the day but hibernate in your room with your blanket and TV. You opened the door and headed to your bed when you let out a shriek.

"Bucky!" you yelled.

Bucky was sitting on a chair in the corner of your room in the dark.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" you put your hand over your chest to calm your racing heart.

He clicked on the lamp and didn't say anything, but he watched you intently with his clear blue eyes' laser focused on you.

"Bucky?" you walked a little further.

Usually, he was joking and teasing so this was a new side of him.

"You never told me about your photo shoot" his voice was dark, almost gravely.

You looked at him a little confused.

"Oh, well it was nothing really" you waved your hand in the air.

"Who took the photos?" he asked.

You eyed him up but didn't reply.

Why is he asking me this?

"Who took the photos Y/n?" he said more firmly.

You straightened your back.

"Nora. A photographer by the name of Nora and her assistant Lori" you whispered.

"Good" Bucky nodded.

You noticed he was sitting cross legged in your chair with a black book across his lap.

Was that? Was that my album?

"Is that my album?" you blurted out, pointing to his lap.

He smirked at you, then rose from the chair, holding the album closely.

"I knew the mail delivery was spotty here, but I never would have guessed what would be inside when this little number was delivered to my door last week. Imagine my surprise when I opened it up."

Your heart started racing.

Bucky stalked towards you holding the album. You swallowed a few times.

"Did you open my mail?" you questioned.

Bucky shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Bucky! That's illegal!" He sighed.

"Like I give a fuck."

You stood straighter.

Usually, Bucky only swore out on missions, and he was never this...dark?

He walked right up to you and shoved the album to you.

"Look" he flipped it open, so you had no choice but to look at the images.

You took the book from him, but he still held on to it. You looked over the images, and your mouth fell open.

Wow, you looked...amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.

You flipped each page and the photos got more beautiful the further you got into the album. You also looked hot and feminine, and if you were being honest, fuckable?

With each page you turned, you could hear Bucky's sharp intake of breath. You looked up and him and you could see him look from the image, to you, then back to the image. You were stunned. You never would have imagined you could look this way and seeing Bucky's reaction to you, well, it did some things.

Sure, you were embarrassed as hell with him seeing the images of you half naked, in lingerie, and in sexy poses, but somehow, your embarrassment wasn't a concern from the way he was looking at you.

"Well?" he asked and closed the album.

He was still standing close to you. So close, his mouth was by your ear so you could feel his warm breath tickling your skin.

"Umm..." you didn't know what to say or how to breathe.

"Do you still have the outfits?" he whispered.

You saw him toss the book on your bed out of the corner of your eye.

You nodded.

Your heart was pounding.

Why would he want to know that? Wait...

You imagined this 100's of times in all your fantasies and daydreams, but the real thing was something else. Intense Bucky was on a whole different level than flirty and playful Bucky.

"Good. Why don't you go and put one of those little outfits so you can come back here and pose for me. I want to see the real thing for myself." he whispered in your ear.

Pose? He wants me to...pose? For him?

You clamped your thighs tight but nodded.

You were unable to form any words at the moment.

"Good girl" he smirked, then placed a small kiss at the top of your ear.

"You're going to show me those poses and I'm going to keep that little album for myself. I don't want anyone else to see those images but you and me, you got that?"

You nodded.

"Now go and change while I get comfortable" he stepped back from you.

You scurried to your closet to grab one of your outfits to hurriedly change into it.

This was going to be an interesting night...

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prettyinpink350 · 6 days

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1: PRIYA & JAMIE

MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You love your best friend but you can't find the courage to tell him. It doesn't matter because things are perfect between you... until they aren't. Everything changes the day Bucky introduces you to his new girlfriend.

Word count: 3.1k

Warning: angsty feelings, jealousy, feelings of betrayal, Bucky... Barnes is a warning

Sticks and Stones was your favorite place. Not because of the amazing meals, or the roaring fireplace that made the winter evenings warmer, or even the stone oven that produced the most scrumptious pizzas. No, it was because once a month, you shared a meal with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. You jovially referred to it as date night, the one night you were guaranteed a time alone with your best pal.

Normally when you arrived, you'd find Bucky waiting patiently for you, having ordered his and your favorite drinks. But today, you'd been out in town, enjoying some time off from work and you'd arrived early. You were pleased that for once, you'd be able to return the favor.

"Darling!" Victor, your usual waiter greeted you. "You're here early! Beat Mr Bucky to the punch today! Want me to bring the usual?"

"Yes please, Victor! Thanks!"

You glanced around, making yourself comfortable as you waited for Bucky to arrive. Victor brought your drinks and you couldn't resist taking a sip of the fruity house wine that you always enjoyed. You savored the taste and tingly feeling of it slipping down your throat. There was an instant feel of comfort and familiarity in the setting and you smiled dreamily, lost in the moment.

The time you spent with Bucky was very special to you. When you weren't out risking your lives and watching each other's backs for S.H.I.E.L.D., the two of you tried to spend your free time together. Truth be told, you were harboring feelings of more than simple friendship for the super soldier. The bond you shared was tighter than any other relationship you'd had in the past. But you longed for more and during these ‘dates’ you could imagine that your feelings were reciprocated. It was a tap on your shoulder that brought you back to reality.

"Hey!" Bucky's smiling face popped into your visual field.

"Buck!" You smiled from ear to ear. It was always a comfort to see him. Jumping out of your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Bucky's strong arms wound their way around your waist and your chin snuggled into the nook between his shoulder and neck. As he squeezed you tightly, you noticed someone standing awkwardly behind him.

Gently, you pulled out of your best friend's embrace, smiling at the gorgeous stranger in tight fitting jeans and a perfectly tailored red halter neck blouse. You were slightly star struck by her beauty, she was in appearance, everything you wished you were.

"Hi," you smiled at her. Even though you were impressed by her appearance, something about her presence didn't sit right with you.

"Oh Cricket, this is Priya. Doll, this is Y/N, but we call her Cricket."

Did he just call her Doll? You frowned slightly. That was his nickname for you. The discomfort you had felt intensified.

"Hey, Cricket. It's nice to meet you." Priya offered her hand, which you shook, more as a reflex. "Jamie here has told me so much about you."

"Jamie?" You frowned again, looking at Bucky.

He scratched the back of his head bashfully, chuckling slightly at her pet name for him. "Priya!" Bucky admonished jokingly.

Breathlessly, you watched as he pulled out a chair for this woman to sit down. He was a perfect gentleman. He waved Victor over and grabbed a chair from the table adjacent to you and sat down. "Why’re you still standing?" he asked you.

Wordlessly, you lowered yourself back into your chair, reaching out to your glass of wine and taking a larger than necessary mouthful. This time though there was a searing burning in your chest that was probably nothing to do with the alcohol trickling down your esophagus.

"So, how do you two know each other?" The words were coming out of your mouth but you had no idea who was controlling it. You also knew that you didn't want to hear the answer.

"Priya’s my girlfriend." Bucky beamed, looking at Priya. He never smiled like this at anyone other than you.

"Jamie and I met four months ago. Right here! I saw him sitting here on his own and I just couldn't let such a handsome man be lonely." Priya ran her fingers through Bucky's hair.

Your mind was reeling at the information that had just been dropped on you and your world felt like it was spinning. You felt a pang of jealousy and sadness as you listened to Priya gush about how she met Bucky. How much alcohol had you drunk? Your mouth felt dry but your eyes burned. Your ears were ringing and everyone suddenly seemed very far away. You tried to smile and act happy for them, but it was hard to hide your true feelings. You wondered how Bucky could have kept this a secret from you for four months. Was he ashamed of you? Did he not trust you? Did he not care about you?

"I… I don't understand. What do you mean you met here?" You stuttered.

"Remember that time you were forced to cancel on me, ‘cause of the last minute mission Steve dragged you on?"

"Yea-" you whispered in answer.

"It was that day." Bucky looked at you.

"So what? You just found an instant replacement?" The words slipped out of your mouth with a lot more spite than you'd intended.

"Of course not, Cricket." Bucky frowned, he wasn't sure what he had expected but this was not the reaction he had imagined from you. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah," you sighed.

Under the table, you found yourself gripping the sides of your chair so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Maybe if you had been given time to emotionally prepare yourself for this introduction, you would have reacted more gracefully than you were doing at this very moment. But the shock of being face to face with Bucky’s girlfriend was so far down on your list of expectations, that you didn’t seem to have any control over your brain or your mouth.

"Aww, Jamie, I thought I was your best friend now," Priya smiled at Bucky, batting her eyelids at him. She slipped her arms around his beefy bicep and leaned in for a kiss.

To your surprise, Bucky laughed and leaned in, engaging in a slow and gag-worthy kiss. You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, you wanted someone to pinch you, to shake you awake from the nightmare you seemed to be stuck in. A dream, that’s what it was, just a bad dream. If you played along, you’d wake up in your bed having fallen asleep beside your best friend watching bad movies all night because he had a nightmare. You didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene either. You also didn’t want to lose Bucky, even if he had already chosen someone else. You loved him too much to let him go.

You plastered a smile across your face, deciding to stay, enduring the torture of watching them be happy together. "Congratulations, Bucky. It’s good that you’ve found someone special." The words sounded forced, at least they did in your mind. Emotionless. You meant what you said, it was good that Bucky had found someone. You just wished that someone was you. He deserved happiness, you just wanted to be the one to give it to him.

You had known all along that you wouldn’t be that person. Every time he had put his arms around you, every time he came to you for comfort after a nightmare, every time you shared a meal, every time those brilliant blue eyes gazed into yours, he had had the opportunity to take things one step further. And as much as you longed for it, that step never came.

Bucky gave you a scrutinizing stare for what felt like an eternity before accepting your words. "Thank you," he smiled, breaking your heart all over again.

"So, Cricket! I assume that's not really your name. How did it come about?"

Bucky laughed, recalling the memory. "Cricket had only been with the team for two months, but she was immediately everyone's conscience. It was almost kinda annoying."

You scowled.

"Come on, Cricket, don't be like that." Bucky smiled at you and it melted the scowl off your face. "Natasha used to call her Jiminy Cricket and it's just stuck."

"And how long have you and James known each other?" Priya asked you.

"It’s been two years," you smiled, the first genuine one since you had seen them together. "But we've been partners for 18 months."

You felt the need to emphasize your closeness with Bucky.

"Wow, James said the two of you were close." She turned to Bucky, directing her question at him. "How come you never mentioned us to her?

Bucky had the decency to look uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between you and Priya but never maintaining eye contact with either of you. Your immediate instinct was to help him out, to ease his discomfort. But the little person inside your brain that often sat on your shoulder with horns on its head asked you why he deserved it. Why had he lied to you for the past four months? What was he trying to hide from you? He was really putting your little crickets through their paces.

"I just wasn’t ready to share you with anyone else," Bucky answered in his most charming manner.

Priya giggled and you closed your eyes in an effort to keep them from seeing your exasperated eye roll.

"We should order before they close the kitchen. It’s getting late. What do you want?" Bucky asked Priya.

It almost felt like you didn’t exist.

"Want to share a pizza?" she responded.

"Sounds great, Doll!" He smiled at her. "What do you want, Cricket?"

"Umm, I-" You had no idea what you wanted. Pizza with Bucky was your go to. It had been a while since you’d sampled anything from the menu. "I need to look." You picked up the faux-leather bound booklet with meal options, grateful to be able to hide your face behind it. The last thing you wanted was for Priya or Bucky to see your quivering lip or tear filled eyes.

You only emerged when Victor approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Miss Y/L/N. Would you and Mr Bucky like your usual?"

"No Victor, could I have the cajun pasta please?"

Priya gave hers and Bucky’s orders to Victor who walked away promising only a short wait for your meals. A silence settled over the tablet as you contemplated how Priya took charge of their order. It had taken you a long time to get Bucky to understand that he had autonomy and was allowed to voice his opinions. You always did your best to give Bucky the time to process his decisions and articulate them. You worried that he would lose that. However, Priya used silence as an opportunity to ask you a few more questions.

"So, Cricket. How did you end up joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

You shrugged. "Just kinda happened. Sometimes life has a way of pushing you into something unexpected, you just have to make the most of it." You had no desire to share the most painful events in your life with a complete stranger. "And what do you do, Priya?"

"My job isn’t as exciting as yours, I’m afraid. I’m a surgeon."

"She is being modest," Bucky interjected proudly, "She is a kid’s surgeon."

You felt like you were being punched in the gut. You had gone to medical school before you’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D., but life had different plans for you and you’d ended up being recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D. soon after your internship.

You plastered a smile across your face and delivered the socially acceptable response. "Wow, pediatrics. That’s hard work."

"Worth it though, when you see the smiles on the kids' faces when they walk out of the hospital."

"I’m impressed that you find the time to date. I can barely find time for myself. Feels like too much hard work!" You forced a laugh from your lips.

"Well, being with James isn’t work at all. In fact, he gives me a reason to leave the hospital."

Bucky blushed. "Thanks, Doll."

Luckily you were spared further awkward conversation by the arrival of your dinner.

"Eat up kids, we’re closing up soon!" Victor boomed.

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence, Bucky and Priya exchanging some small talk as you poked and prodded at the food on your plate. Their honeymoon phase was sickening and all you wanted was to leave.

Closing time came around eventually, although not as soon as you would have liked.

"Darling, what's the matter? You didn't like pasta?" Victor came to clear your plates and usher you out of the establishment.

"It was really good, just a bit spicy." You blushed while telling the lie, your inner cricket screaming at you.

"Next time we'll make sure you can eat it all then." Victor smiled at you kindly.

You felt terrible, but you didn't want anyone to see how upset you really were, especially Bucky. Not that he would notice, he was too busy draping his jacket over Priya’s shoulders. It didn’t mean very much to you at that moment, but the second you stepped outside, you realized that your evening wasn’t going to get any better. Bucky’s bike was parked right outside and you understood what that meant.

"Cricket, we’ll see you back at the compound!" Bucky smiled, leading his girlfriend to the bike with his hand at her back. "Don’t want to get caught in the rain."

You nodded mutely, watching them speed away. When you had asked Nat to drop you off in town, it had been with the intention that you would catch a ride back with Bucky, as you always did. You were left standing on the curb in a sundress and a light jacket. It had been a warm day for late October, but as the sun had set, thunder clouds had rolled in and Thor’s distant cousins were making a ruckus in the distance and seemed to be heading in your direction. The notion that you could walk home was something you entertained for a total of two seconds, as your heel got stuck in a grate on the sidewalk. You sighed heavily as a couple of raindrops splashed on your shoulder.

Pulling out your phone, you tapped on the local transportation apps, but there were no cabs to be seen. Not that anyone would be willing to drive you out into the country at this time in the evening. There was only one choice left, you needed to call one of your friends to pick you up. Resigned to an awkward conversation, you scrolled through your phone for someone to contact.

Nat… no, she wasn’t around. Sam… no answer. Steve… the phone rang a couple of times, before a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Steve, were you sleeping?" you asked, anxiously.

"No," came his dishonest answer.

"I’m sorry, go back to sleep." You hated imposing on people and knowing that you had woken Steve from what was probably much needed slumber, made you felt terrible.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, it’s okay, Steve." What were you thinking? Why were you not asking for a lift?

"Cricket."

"Could you please pick me up from town?" you asked, in a small voice.

Steve sat up in bed, your voice drowned out by a loud crack of thunder. "Wait, aren’t you with Bucky?"

"No, Buck-" you weren’t sure how much Steve knew about Bucky’s girlfriend. "I’m not with Bucky. He’s busy."

"With Priya?"

So Steve knew. Naturally. Steve was Bucky’s family, of course he would tell him before he told you. A tear dropped down from your eye as you nodded. "Yeah," you whispered, realizing that Steve couldn’t actually see you.

"I’m sorry. Give me half an hour, I’m coming."

"Thanks, Steve."

You hung up the phone and looked around. The street was deserted and everything felt so much darker than before. The rain, which had been falling lightly, started coming down more heavily, seeping into your thin clothes and making you shiver. The tears that were now pouring down your face were practically indistinguishable from the raindrops. This felt like the perfect ending for how you felt about your day.

True to his word, Steve arrived in twenty eight minutes. And you sunk into the passenger seat of his car looking like a bedraggled rat. He didn’t ask you any more questions, for which you were grateful. Wordlessly, he slipped off his hoodie and offered it to you. You took it, pulling the soft material over your head, thankful for the warmth it provided. The hood covered your eyes and you did nothing to move the wet strands of hair that were plastered across your face. It took all your self control to not start sobbing in the car with Steve. Luckily for you, Steve turned up the seat warmer on your seat and focused solely on the road as he started the journey back to the compound.

When he eventually pulled into the garage, Steve yanked up the parking brake, turned off the ignition and jumped out before you had the chance to unfasten your seat belt. He opened the door for you and you got out reluctantly. A feeling of dread washed over you. What if Bucky and Priya saw you like this? They were already here, you had immediately spotted Bucky's bike in the corner. You knew he had brought Priya back to the compound because Bucky hadn’t bothered to store his spare helmet, and he would have secured it if he had ridden home alone. A horrifying image of them having sex invaded your mind for a moment, but Steve’s voice distracted you.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your room." Steve offered you a hand to help you out of the car.

"I'm sorry for making you come out to get me. I should have taken my car. I just thought-"

"It's okay. Let's go." Steve said kindly, wrapping his arm around you, offering his support and warmth. He stopped right outside your bedroom door. "Do you need anything?" he asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you muttered in his ear.

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good night."

Neither of you noticed Bucky returning from the kitchen with two glasses in his hands, watching you and Steve from the shadows.

MASTERLIST > Next chapter

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