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dreamlessinparis · 3 years

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Refreshing Bliss

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: When a heat wave becomes too much, Bucky finds a way to cool down his lovers and heat them up.

Warning: no plot, just smut, pool sex, dirty talk, explicit language, Bucky and Steve in a pool, fluff, pet names, 18+

If you're a minor, DNI

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

A/N: Okay I know I said I'd have this up before the weekend was up and it's now Wednesday, I suck 🙈 haha I'm sorry this took longer than anticipated, but I really hope you like it @thefallenbibliophilequote and it quenches your pool needs😘😊 all mistakes are my own.

You could literally feel the sweltering heat through the glass window you were standing in front of. The heatwave was drastically getting worse and nothing was helping. The inner pool was under construction and the outdoor pool was still being built. Why Tony hadn’t built that with the rest of the compound you would never know.

Alas despite the high-tech facilities of the place, the AC was having technical issues and in the midst of Tony fixing them, the whole compound was slowly melting. Everyone was down to their skivvies and aside from ogling eyes, there wasn’t any touching. It was too hot to even think about. Which was impossible to fathom considering who you were dating.

Bucky and Steve had become a permanent fixture in your life since the night of your catastrophic mission. The fear of losing you had caused them to reveal their true feelings and they were ecstatic that you reciprocated them. Truly you couldn't have been happier and that happiness only grew from there. But recently you were avoiding them, those two ran hotter than the average person and in this heat, it was unbearable to deal with.

"Bunny?" Steve's voice pulled you away from your thoughts and you looked over your shoulder. He looked absolutely delectable, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that hung dangerously low on his hips. His sculpted chest was beaded with sweat and your mouth watered at the thought of running your tongue over all the hard planes.

"Hmm?" you hummed, turning to face him fully. "What's up Steve?"

Your eyes remained glued to his glistening pecs and he chuckled softly.

"Eyes up here bunny," Steve began to walk towards you and you backed away until your bare back was pressed against the heated glass. Your eyes reluctantly broke away from his chest, and widened at the intense look in his eyes.

"Steve, no," you said, placing your hands on his chest, keeping him from coming any closer. The muscles jumped at your touch and you couldn't help the moan that escaped you.

"No?" His eyebrow cocked, challenging your willpower.

You tried your hardest to gain your resolve, shaking your head slowly. "No Steve, it's too hot."

"We can make it hotter. Come on, sweetheart, you've been avoiding us for well over a week and we miss you," he said, leaning to place soft kisses on your neck. Your arms buckled slightly, allowing him to take a step closer. His lips brushed over a sensitive spot, causing you to sink your nails into the skin of his pecs.

The groan he let out rumbled through your body and the next thing you knew, he had you pressed hard against the glass and his smoldering body. His thigh found its way between your legs, your shorts barely a barrier. Your hips rocked subconsciously, needing to relieve the ache that had been plaguing you for too long.

“Steve,” you whimpered, his thigh pressed harder against your core, and your head fell back against the glass with a thud.

“Yes?” he mumbled into your soft skin.

“It’s too hot,” you argued weakly, as his warm hand slid underneath your halter top, and cupped your breast. You arched into his touch and for a moment, you thought about saying fuck it and letting him have his way with you.

But even the pleasure of his body, couldn’t bypass the rising heat, sweat clinging to your skin. It was sticky and hot, but not in a good way. You were getting too irritated to enjoy any of it and Steve felt it, pulling away with a huff.

“We have to do something about this heat,” he complained, “I can’t keep watching you in these barely-there outfits and not fucking you against every surface.”

You laughed, knowing he was completely right. The heat was going to be the death of everyone in this compound if Tony didn’t figure out a way to make the AC work better.

“I know, Steve. It’s not easy for me either. Watching you and Bucky half-naked, working out in those shorts. It’s torture.” you whined, tossing your hands up in the air in frustration. Steve groaned as the movement caused your breasts to bounce; he adjusted himself, sitting on the bed in a huff.

Bucky walked in, hair clinging to his face, sweat dripping. He had just finished an outdoor workout with Sam and looked in need of a cold shower. The thought seemed to quickly dissipate as he took in the sight of you still leaning against the glass. The look in his eye told you that he wanted so badly to nail you against it but unlike Steve, he understood that the heat was killing you as much as it was him. Even his metal arm was warm to the touch.

“Hi Buck,” you smiled, greeting the brunette man. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. His smile lit up his whole face and it made your heart happy, knowing you could make him so carefree and warm. He thought he was lucky to have you but it was just the opposite. You knew though that god if he couldn’t touch you for another day or two, he was going to lose it.

“Hey doll, how are you doing?”

“Hot, Buck. She’s hot, we’re all fucking hot and I’m going to lose my mind,” Steve ranted, throwing himself back onto the bed. Bucky chuckled at his frustration, even though he could relate.

“Thank you, Steve. I hadn’t realized how hot it was,” Bucky joked, walking between the two of you to the set of drawers and grabbing a clean pair of boxers. He dropped his shorts to the ground and your jaw dropped with them. His firm asscheeks were taunting you and you just wanted to bite one. You strayed your glance up to the muscles of his back, moving fluidly under his skin as he walked to the bathroom. He was absolutely a work of art, they both were.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I’ll tell you guys about the idea I had for saving us from the heat,” Bucky continued, turning slightly to face you both. With what can only be considered herculean strength, you focused solely on his face and nowhere lower. “Actually, why wait. You two start packing, I’m taking you on to a surprise location.”

Neither you nor Steve moved, eyeing him warily. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“With a pool and great AC,” he finished and the two of you jumped into motion. Chuckling, Bucky entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him as you and Steve rushed to pack.

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The house was in a secluded neighborhood a few miles from the compound. It was a two-story cabin-style house, build near the edge of a mountain; the closest neighbor had to be at least a couple miles away if not more.

You climbed out of the cool car and were immediately slapped in the face by the humidity. Debating for a moment whether you were going to climb back in or make a run for the front door, you decided on the latter. Snatching the keys out of Bucky’s hand, you ran.

“Oh yeah, doll, that’s nice. It’s not like we’re hot or anything.” Bucky quipped, pulling your suitcase out of the back and reaching in for his.

You ran backward for a moment as you responded, “I know you’re hot, James. That’s why I’m dating you,” and with a smirk on your face, you winked before making your way inside

It felt like heaven inside, the coolness licking across your skin and making you shiver. Shiver! You couldn’t the last time you shivered. Doing a happy dance, you spun in a quick circle in excitement, taking in the stunning house you were in.

The open layout of the first floor allowed you see out the back window to the glistening pool. A beautiful, welcoming, infinity pool with a killer view of the mountainscape and the towns below. Your feet carried you through the house, taking in the rustic decorations and the wide, open kitchen, before padding up the stairs.

There were so many doors, you didn’t know which one to look in first but the open door at the end of the hall did seem quite promising. You heard the boys downstairs with the luggage, Steve noting how nice it felt in here. Leaning over the railing, you waved down at them.

“Hi Bunny, did you find the bedrooms?” Steve asked an air of excitement in his tone.

“Bucky, whose place is this?” you questioned, ignoring your boyfriend’s horniness for the time being. You were playing with fire and you knew it but sometimes you preferred Steve a little riled up. Brought his Captain voice out and you got turned on just thinking about it.

“It’s mine, doll,” Bucky answered, coming up the stairs with the luggage, “I bought it a few months ago but they were renovating parts of it and they finished everything up yesterday.”

He walked past you towards the open door and you trailed behind him. You were on a mission and it involved the bed. The room was so spacious that the California king looked smaller than it was. You were about to go jump on the bed, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the brick wall that Steve called his torso.

“Uh uh, Bucky and I are going to go for a dip first, since you were so eager to run from us earlier. It’s our turn to run from you,” Steve’s velvety baritone filled your ears. You let out a needy whimper as you tried to grind back into him. His grip on you was too tight for you to even wiggle your hips.

Bucky came up and gave you a light kiss. “Be a good girl, and get your swimsuit doll. We’ll be downstairs waiting for you.”

Steve released you and you did as you were told, hoping you’d be rewarded thoroughly.

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Bucky was leaning against the wall of the pool, arms resting on the ledge, head resting backwards. Steve was coming out of the water from his lap when the sliding door opened and both pairs of eyes whirled onto you. The bikini you wore left very little to the imagination and you had bought it on a whim, never thinking you’d wear it.

However, it was the one that Steve had packed and the only other option was to come down nude. Water droplets clung to Steve’s body like little gems as he began to climb out. He held his hand out to you, pulling you in for a chaste kiss before he headed towards the deep end, doing a backflip into the pool, splashing your legs.

The water was so refreshing and despite how welcoming it looked, swimming was not your thing. You gently lowered yourself to the concrete, sliding your legs into the liquid euphoria. It felt blissful and you thought about going all the way in, but you were over the deep end, and the thought of your feet not touching the ground, freaked you the fuck out.

Bucky swam over to you, large hands resting on your thighs.

“You’re not getting in doll?”

“Swimming’s not my thing,” you replied, shaking your head, “I’ll just wait here patiently, while you guys do your thing.”

“As pretty as you look perched up there, you’d look even prettier if you were wet,” Steve swam up beside Bucky, placing a kiss on your knee. His fingers trailed up your leg, teasing the edge of your bottoms, “Let me rephrase, wetter.”

His thumb slipped under them, gliding over your pussy lips and your legs spread wider to give him more access. He rubbed light circles on your clit, as Bucky kissed up and down your other leg. You gasped lightly, eye fluttering shut as you tilted your hips forward.

Steve increased his speed and Bucky switched between kisses and light nips. You were right on the brink of an orgasm when they both pulled back. Your eyes flew open in shock. The two grinned up at you innocently like they didn’t just edge you.

“If you want more, bunny, you’re gonna have to get in,” Steve taunted, wiggling his fingers at you.

“Steveee,” you pouted, kicking your legs out to splash him. He shook his head, swimming backward away from you. Bucky sensed your hesitation, squeezing your thigh reassuringly.

“We just want you to have fun with us doll. How about you get in and I carry you around? I promise I won’t let you drown.”

His gray blue eyes were sincere as his hands came to rest on your waist, tugging you light forward. Your hands shot out, gripping his shoulders as you allowed him to pull you in. The contrast of the cold water to the hot air raised goosebumps all over your body. Your arms slid loosely around his shoulders as you became fully submerged. Legs wrapped around his slender waist, you clung to him like a koala.

You were safe in his arms and you knew it, allowing your body to relax. Tilting your head back, you submerged your hair, letting it float behind you like a mermaid. Bucky’s metal hand held you up by the ass, and he used his other arm to maneuver over to the corner where Steve waited.

You ran your fingers through Bucky’s wet hair as you enjoyed the glide of the water on your skin. They were right, it felt so nice, but it was even nicer being carried around. Noticing that you were in what would be considered the shallow end, you were surprised to see that even with Bucky’s feet touching the ground, the water came up to his biceps. The pool was definitely not built for people who couldn’t swim or were shorter than 6ft, that was for sure.

Steve traced up your spine, fingers wrapping around the back of your neck so that he could kiss you. The kiss was dirty and obscene, making you roll your body, grinding on Bucky’s abs. Steve’s hard cock was pressed against your ass and Bucky rocked his own hard-on against you to create some friction. Steve’s tongue tangled with yours, his grip shifting to your hair, grabbing a hard handful.

You moaned into his mouth, arching forward, your chest cresting out of the water. Bucky licked a path from the valley of your breasts to your collarbone, before biting his way back down. He nuzzled in between your breasts, placing open-mouthed kisses along the skin.

Since you were pressed so snugly between the two supersoldiers, Bucky felt comfortable enough to slide his metal hand up your torso to meet his flesh hand. Cupping your boobs, he kneaded them roughly, enjoying the way you rolled your body in response. His thumbs hooked to the cloth triangles, moving them to the side, as your breasts popped free of their confines.

Steve’s hand stayed in your hair as he pulled away to give you both a chance to breathe. He shifted his focus to your neck, using your hair to rotate your face to the side giving him better access. His teeth grazed over the delicate skin, drawing a soft mewl out of you. Bucky’s lips wrapped around your nipple, licking and sucking hungrily before his teeth bit down gently and gave it a tug.

“Bucky, fuck.. just like that,” you moaned, eyes rolling into the back of your head in pleasure.

His metal hand toyed with the other breast, running his thumb over the nipple, hardening it. He pinched it, rolling it between his fingers. His eyes rolled up to look at you and he moaned at the expression of pure ecstasy on your face. The vibrations felt so good and combined with Steve’s assault on your neck, it made you grind your hips harder.

You could feel the coil tightening when Steve’s hands fell to your waist as he guided you and Bucky to the pool wall. He helped Bucky shift his hold on you, hooking his arms under yours, hands gripping the edge of the pool wall. He then spread your legs wide enough for Bucky to step between them. Steve reached into Bucky’s trunks and grabbed ahold of his dick, pumping him.

Bucky was now attached to your other nipple, and Steve’s hand made him moan again. His hips bucked and Steve groaned, using his other hand to untie the sides of your bikini. Pulling Bucky out completely, he guided the tip through your swollen folds, coating him in your slick.

Bucky released your nipple with a pop, burying his head in your neck as Steve lined him up with your pulsing entrance. You moaned loudly as Bucky slid in, the burn of the strength had you digging your nails into both of their biceps.

“You’re so fucking tight, doll. I don’t know if I’m gonna fit,” Bucky grunted, into your neck.

“Oh we’re gonna make it fit, Buck,” Steve growled, “Our girl’s been deprived too long, she needs to be filled to the brim.”

“Don’t stop, Bucky. I can take it,” you begged, head falling back as his hips jerked, inching deeper.

Steve stroked Bucky’s hair as the brunette rocked his hips slowly, the pain turning quickly to pleasure. Bucky kissed your neck, then along the edge of your jaw before capturing your lips.

Steve gripped Bucky’s ass, guiding him to go faster, watching as each hard thrust made your tits bounce. You felt so full, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you hard. The feeling was so good, the cool water licking along your heated skin, waves caused by the rhythm of Bucky’s movements.

“How’s that feel Bunny?” Steve asked, stroking himself languidly. He had pulled his trucks off and they were now floating beside Bucky’s on the water.

Bucky’s growls were low in your ear and the sound of them was making you throb. The fact that your body was causing this god of a man to fall apart, made you feel far too powerful. Your hand tugged on Bucky’s locks, making him groan and fuck you faster.

“So good, Steve,” you panted, “Buck, right there, baby, right fucking there!” Bucky’s hips angled according to your words, hitting your sweet spot with such ferocity that your climax hit out of nothing. Your toes curled hard as your thighs shook from the intensity of the orgasm and its aftershocks. Bucky’s hips kept going as he fucked you through it, the way you were clenching around him made him cum shortly after. He groaned as he shot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls.

The two of you breathed heavily, Buck’s head resting on your heaving chest. As much as Steve enjoyed the show he was getting impatient so grabbing the back of Buck’s neck, he gently pulled him off you. A sad sigh escaped you as his cock slid out of you. Steve’s arm quickly wrapped around your waist, not allowing you to sink.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to fill you in just a moment,” he shushed you, kissing your temple reassuringly. Bucky’s hands worked quickly to rid you of your top, tossing it over his shoulder to join the rest. “Buck, sit on the ledge. Bunny is going to suck your dick, while I fuck her from behind. Isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes, Steve,” you nodded rapidly, excited by the prospect. You were insatiable when it came to these two and they could fuck you unconscious every day of the week, no problem.

Bucky chuckled at your enthusiasm as he pulled himself up on the ledge. His cock was already semi erect again. Thank god for that serum.

Steve held you to him, back to his chest, placing light kisses to your shoulder as he waited for Bucky to get situated. Your boys were so careful with you and you loved them that much more for it. He swam forward until you could hold onto Bucky’s thighs, running your hands over the coiled muscle. Buck’s hand stroked your cheek as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He smiled wide, loving the sight of you in front of him, leaning down to kiss you deeply. Steve held the back of your thighs up, positioning himself before pushing in.

“I swear nothing compares to this tight little pussy, bunny. I could stay buried in your warmth all fucking day,” Steve said, bottoming out with a swift thrust of his hips. The stretch of him was easier to adjust to after Bucky, but a slight burn still remained.

Bucky’s lips muffled your sounds of pleasure. You clenched around Steve, your warmth enveloping him and he moaned loudly. His thrusts found a steady rhythm and you whimpered as you separated from Bucky, resting your head on his thigh to collect yourself for a moment.

It was getting hard to focus, each drive of his hips knocking the breath out of you. Your fingers languidly ghosted over Bucky’s shaft, making him gasp. Needing him to make more noise, you gathered your strength and turned your attention to the gorgeous cock, the red tip angry and weeping. Your fingers enclosed around it, squeezing lightly, a jolt of excitement ran through you when you heard his breath catch. Collecting the gathered droplets of precum on your thumb, you maintained eye contact as you sucked it off, savoring his salty taste. Bucky’s gaze was heated as the anticipation for your next move tightened his whole body.

Your tongue darted out to circle the tip of Bucky’s hardening cock, your hand wrapped around the base, pumping him. Bucky bit back a moan as your lips wrapped around him. Hollowing out your cheeks, you took him further down your throat. Bucky’s hand found the back of your head as he followed the rhythm of your head.

“Oh you’re driving me nuts,” Bucky panted, “I know you can handle all of me, doll. Come on, just a little more.” he pushed down lightly to guide you further.

The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you fought your gag reflex as you swallowed him a little further. Your nose nuzzled the coarse hairs at the base of his cock, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes before letting your head come up and sinking back down, bobbing faster.

Steve began to thrust his hips at a brutal speed, hands digging into your hips, holding you buoyant. He had been dreaming of this moment for weeks now and he was so impatient after watching Bucky fuck you. You moaned making Bucky groan and his grip tightened on your hair. The slurping noises coming out your mouth, combined with the slapping of water spurred both men on.

Bucky’s hips began to buck, making you choke a little. You flattened your tongue and relaxed your jaw, allowing him to take control. He thrusted into your mouth, holding your head with both hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks, as lines of spit escaped the corners of your lips. You did your best to breathe through your nose, but it became difficult when Bucky buried himself so far down your throat, holding you there for a moment before pulling back.

His grip eased on your hair allowing you to wrap your hand around his cock, pulling it free from your mouth with a pop, gasping a little. The way your face was flushed, drool and precum all over your chin, light gasps falling from your lips, you looked absolutely cockdrunk and Bucky almost came at the sight of you. He ran his thumb along your bottom lip and you kissed it sweetly, making him smile. Steve took that moment to roll his hips, angling them to sheathe deeper in you.

“Ah shit Steve,” your mouth fell open, gasping as Steve hit the spot that makes you see stars. You clung to Bucky’s thighs as the power of Steve’s ruts, made your breasts hit against the pool tiles. You were a whimpering mess, eyes rolling in the back of your head as you chanted Steve’s name. Steve’s hips slamming against yours harder and harder.

As pretty as the noises coming from you were, Bucky needed to feel your warm mouth on him again. He placed his thumb on your tongue, pulling it out a bit further before he slapped his cock against it.

He always felt so good in your mouth, the heavy girth of him stretching your mouth wide. You licked a broad stripe down the shaft, tracing the thick vein. Truly you could spend hours worshiping Bucky’s cock; Steve’s was just as amazing but the breathy noises that Buck made were unmatched.

Steve bit down on your shoulder, as your cunt gripped him snugly. Bucky’s cock twitched against your tongue, you could tell he was close, so you took him back in your mouth, deep throating him to the best of your ability. His eyes slid shut, head lolling back. The feeling was intense; you were stuffed from both ends and your body was overwrought with pleasure. The knot in your stomach was beginning to unravel with every drag of Steve’s veiny cock.

Steve groaned in your ear, as your orgasm washed over you, feeling your walls pulse.

“Fuck bunny, you’re milking me so good. I’m not gonna last much longer!” The rapid flutters of your silky walls were enough to send him over the edge right after you, flooding you with hot cum deep with each drive of his hips. You screamed around Bucky’s cock, triggering his climax, and his spend shot down your throat.

Bucky slowly pulled out of you, cradling your head to move onto his thigh as you caught your breath. He leaned back on his hands doing the same. Steve slowly left your warmth, the emptiness making you whimper. He held you carefully shifting you around so you were resting against his chest.

“I missed you both,” you whispered into his chest. “Can we take a nap now?”

The pair chuckled, as Steve carried you out of the pool, and Bucky wrapped a warm towel around your back.

“Sure doll, we can nap,” Bucky said, kissing the top of your head.

“And then after we can break in the bed,” Steve stated.

“And the kitchen,” Bucky added.

“Don’t forget the shower,” you chimed in, sleepily.

“Might as well just ruin the whole house,” Steve laughed, going inside, Bucky sliding the door shut after you.

“Sounds like a plan to me. What do you think doll?”

“Mhmm, great plan. But first, we nap,” you concluded.

Taglist: @jobean12-blog @caffiend-queen @fuckandfluff @blackwiddows @sweeterthanthis

#bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #au stucky #pool sex fic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes

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the-writer-ofthe-fandoms · 3 years

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Emergency Visits (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.5k+

Warning(s): SMUT! Oral (Reader recieving), fingering, penetration, fluff!!! (Cringe warning too)

A/N: HONESTLY, idk why i had the courage to write smut but I did. THE ORIGINAL ONE-SHOT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE SMUT LMFAO also yall know I am a sucker for crossovers SOOO the timelime for TFATWS is off in this because Frank Castle is in here and I wrote most of this before episode 5 <3

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Zemo need a place to lay low in while in the States and you're their most trusted person they know. What was not predicted was your vigilante friend needing medical help that same night.

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You were a former Avenger. You were highly trained in combat but your purpose was to help any wounded comrade or citizen when you and the team were called in. The fighting days were pretty much over for you after the last battle with Thanos. You still used your medical knowledge to work at the different hospitals in New York City and helped Matt Murdock or Frank Castle with any wounds. Rarely you'd help with some vigilante work, but you rather sit out and keep to a less violent life.

You were mindless watching whatever Netflix suggested to you on a breezy night in your humble apartment in New York. It has been a rather boring few nights for you compared to more hectic ones, given your vigilante friends weren't getting as hurt as usual and didn't need discreet medical care.

Your cellphone ringing next to you snapped your attention away from your binging of a John Mulaney stand up show (good choice Netflix). You looked at the caller idea and swore your heart fluttered ever so slightly.

James Buchanan Barnes was calling.

You had spent many months in Wakanda with him as Shuri worked tirelessly to get rid of Hydras grasp on his mind. Your main focus was learning new information on medicine but you always made sure to visit Bucky. You both got pretty close... Light touches, lingering hugs, and often staring at each other when the other wasn't looking became a commonality. It was obvious feelings of love were blossoming for you, but you weren't fully sure if he felt the same.

After the battle you both stayed in contact, but he decided to reside in D.C. while you laid roots back in the familiarity of New York. You both made sure to visit each when possible, but it had been about a month and a half since you last saw him.

"Hey, Buck." You smiled, answering his call. "It's been a few days, usually you make sure to call every other night. Are you okay?"

"I..." You heard him sigh, making you sit up straight. "I need a favor, doll."

"Of course, you know I would do practically anything for you."

"That applies to me too right?" You heard Sam in the background, making you chuckle.

"Yes, it does Sam. How are you?"

"I've been better, these past few days have been rough but I'll let Stare-a-tron explain it to you." You heard a wack and an 'ow' come from Sam.

"So..." Bucky started but didn't continue.

"So...?"

"So, have you paid any attention to the news regarding Munich?"

"I have now connected the dots."

"What?"

"You broke a certain terrorist out of jail didn't you, James." You groan. When you saw the news about Zemo you couldn't possibly connect it to Buck and Sam, but with this call and a need of a favor instantly made you realize.

"Technically, (Y/N), he broke himself out."

"Do I need to slap some sense into you? He killed King T'Chaka. He broke up the Avengers--"

"I know, I know." You heard him sigh. You listened in closer and heard some background traffic noise that sounded like the streets of New York. "Listen, we need a place to lay low for a bit in the States and your the only person I can one-hundred percent trust. I can't tell you more on the phone but please-"

"Yes, yes of course Buck. You guys, well minus Zemo, are welcomed here for whatever reason. Do you need me to text you the address?"

"Nah, we are actually about to enter your apartment building."

"Well hurry up so we can decide on take out." You chuckled and hung up the phone. You only had to wait a few minutes before you heard knocking at your door. Wasting no time you opened the door as fast as you can and practically tackle Bucky into a hug.

He chuckled gently, "I missed you too, doll."

You released him from your hold and grinned as Sam. "Come here Sam, I haven't seen you in a few months." You pulled him into a less dramatic but friendly hug.

"Good to see you too, (Y/N)." Sam and Buck made their way into the apartment leaving you faced to face with Zemo.

"Hello." You greeted, offering a differential handshake.

"Hello, (Y/N). I hope all is well." He accepted the short handshake and gave an equally differential smile before entering your apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode, make yourselves at home here. I have two bedrooms so we better discuss sleeping arrangements-"

"Easy, I call dibs bunking with you while Wings and Zemo stay in your spare room." Bucky interrupted.

"Hold up, why can't you stay with creepy-magee? I'm sure you two would love to stare at each other." Sam argued.

"Because I called dibs, isn't that right Doll?"

"He did call dibs, Sam." You shrugged and laugh at his look of betrayal.

You heard Zemo start to speak but Sam beat him to it, "You don't get an opinion." Zemo simply put his hands up and surrendered while the other two kept arguing about the concept of dibs.

"Anyways I'll order some Chinese food and we can discuss why you three are here over dinner."

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Your mind was blown.

Bucky and Sam filled you in on Isaiah, the return of super soldiers, why they needed Zemo, and the issues they had with the New Captain America. You also almost chastised Bucky for missing his mandated therapy session but decided to keep eating your food and let him continue.

"Wow, that is fucking nuts. Super soldiers, huh?" You sigh. As much as you didn't want to, you had a feeling they would need your help with fighting. After all you fought along with the original Captain America, so you picked up ways to fight super soldiers.

"Yeah, after Madripoor we need to lay low. Hopefully no one spotted us." Sam said, starting to pick up his dishes. Everyone seemed to follow suit and you were about to speak again when you heard knocking at your door.

"Hey, can you take these for me? I'll go answer the door." You slid your stuff towards Buck who looked at you worried.

"Do you want one of us to answer the door with you?"

"Nah I should be fine, it's probably Mrs. Espinoza looking for her sons cat." You waved him off, making your way to the door. You unlock your locks and crack open the door.

There stood Frank fucking Castle, covered in an obscene amount of blood while using the wall for support.

"Hey..." He greeted with a hoarse voice and a weak attempt of a smile.

"Holy shit, Frank." You said barely above a whisper. "Fuck, can one you guys come here?!" You shouted, opening the door wider while taking one his arms over your shoulder.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bucky looked at you and the blood soaked Punisher with bewilderment.

"I'll explain in a bit! Just help me take him to the couch. Sam go get my medical bag, it's in my closet in the room on the left! Zemo clear everyones stuff from the couch." You barked out orders while you and James carefully led Frank to the couch. When Zemo cleared it off and Sam came running out with your bag, you both laid him down on the couch.

With no hesitation you quickly wash your hands and prepare your equipment.

"Are you going to tell us what the hell is happening right now, (Y/N)?" Buck asked.

"I am also wondering why we have a beaten guy on your couch." Sam's face was full of worry.

You sigh and begin removing Franks clothes to look for any life threatening wounds. "This is the Punisher. If you haven't kept up with the more lower level news he is one of the vigilantes."

"That doesn't explain why he is here."

"I... I am friends with him and Daredevil. I patch them up so they can avoid the hospital." You see a bullet wound on his side, it was bad but it was manageable with an exit wound. "One of you hold him up so I can stitch his back."

Bucky immediately joined your side, using his enhanced strength to hold up Frank.

"You gonna introduce me to your friends here, (Y/N)?" Frank rasped. "I gotta know whose cold ass hand is touchin' me."

"I'll introduce you to them later, let me get you stable."

-----

After what felt like hours, you finished dressing a gash on his thigh. You peel of your bloodied gloves and get up from kneeling on the floor. You helped sit Frank up so he can get a good look at whose here.

"Frank, this is Sam Wilson and James Barnes. I worked and fought with them as an Avenger." You gesture to the two. You saw him eyeing Buck before giving you a knowing look. You both were friends after all, he knew of your feelings towards Bucky.

"Who's the guy in the pimp coat?" He grunted and gestured towards Zemo, who rolled his eyes.

"Baron Zemo. Escapee prisoner."

"Zemo? As in the guy who bombed the UN? Do you need me to-"

"No Frank, they need him alive." You chuckled.

"Well, it's good to put faces to names. Especially yours, James." Frank spoke, nudging you. "I'll get my spare clothes and rinse off the blood now, something tells me the guest room will be taken." You were going to protest but knew Frank was too stubborn to listen. The four of you watched him make his way to the guest room before closing the door.

"Oh so he knows about us but we don't know about him?" Sam arched a brow at you. Bucky stayed silent, clenching both his fists.

You sigh, "I am sorry for not telling you guys. I didn't keep my involvement with vigilantes away from you both on purpose, I promise."

"Can we trust the Punisher? Will everything be safe with all of us here?"

"You don't have to worry about me talking." Frank came out of the room in new clothes, using a damp towel to wipe his face. "(Y/N)'s stuck her neck out for me countless times. I owe it to her."

"If (Y/N) trusts you then we trust you."

"As much as I want to stay up, I think it is best we get some sleep. Tomorrow we can talk more." You stretch and yawn and everyone seemed to agree. Castle put a pillow on the couch and grabbed a spare blanket you had lying around.

"C'mon man you can have the bed. You look like you got the shit beaten out of you." Sam said.

"Nah it's fine. I'm a light sleeper. I can stay out here in case he," Castle pointed to Zemo, "tries somethin'."

"C'mon Buck, your rooming with me." You smile and grab his non-vibranium hand.

"I don't want to share a room with Zemo." Falcon groaned

"Bucky did call dibs after all."

You said goodnight to Sam, and gave Frank a quick hug goodnight before you and James went into your bedroom, a duffel bag in his hand.

James was feeling jealous. He didn't want to admit it but watching how friendly you were with Frank Castle made his feelings worse. He could pick up the familiarity between the two of you and how easy you were able to talked to him. Frank was someone in your life Bucky didn't know existed. How close were you to the Punisher?

Thoughts of you and Frank entered his head but he quickly tried to dismiss them. It made his chest ache just thinking about you and another man. Yeah, Buck was smitten with you. But the feelings of self-doubt and guilt always made it hard for him to confess. With the addition of Frank? Made it almost impossible.

"You can use the bathroom to change while I cahnge out here." Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He nodded silently, clenching his jaw, while entering the bathroom.

Your stare lingered at the door before you quickly put on a different set of comfortable clothes, discarding your previous clothes to the floor. You picked up on his sudden quietness and you hoped he wasnt truly mad at you. With a quiet sigh you slid under the blankets of your bed and waited for Bucky so you could get to bed. You and Bucky have shared the floor and bed before, and you were able to keep it together.

But after everything that has happened, after finally seeing him after almost two months, it made you feel nervous. You weren't sure if it was exhaustion or stress, but your feelings for Bucky suddenly felt overwhelming.

If that wasn't enough, you felt like your face was burning when he stepped out from the bathroom, wearing just his boxers and dogtags.

"I, uh, hope you don't mind. I found sleeping without a shirt easier to deal with nightmares. Helps cool me off."

"No, no. Don't worry at all Buck." You smile but it felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest. He smiled briefly before he turned out the lights, joining you in bed. You both laid on your sides, back facing back. You shut your eyes and try to focus on sleeping, but the image of shirtless, only in boxers James flooded your thoughts.

"Doll?" James voice cut through the silence.

"Y-yes, Buck?"

"Who... Who is Frank to you?" He asked in a low, dejected tone. Your eyes snap open. What kind of question was that from him?

"What do you mean?" You roll to face him but his back was still towards you.

"Are you and Frank..." He paused, "just ignore it, nevermind."

"Bucky, face me." He didn't respond. "Please, James." You heard him sigh but he complied, turning to face you. The subtle light from your window made it easier to see his handsome face in the dark. You gulped, trying to muster an ounce of courage to tell him these feelings you've held for him for years.

"Frank and I are strictly friends. Before he became the Punisher he had a wife and two kids who he loved dearly. They-they were killed in front of him. He loved his wife dearly and I don't think he is looking to start dating anytime soon." You sigh and things go silent for a moment.

You rested a hand on his cheek and scooch closer. "James, I... I really enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy your presence. After all that we have been through, with getting the code words out your head to losing Steve... I want to be by your side no matter what." You felt tears prick your eyes.

"I feel the same way about you doll." James spoke, just above a whisper. "You help ground me and honestly you help keep me sane." His hand found its way above yours that was cupping his cheek. Gently he moved your hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles before moving it over his heart. "I've felt this for a while and I never had much courage to say it before but... I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, James." You smile, a few happy tears managed to escape your eyes.

"C'mere." He helped move you close to him, pulling you into a deep hug. The chill of his vibranium arm caused goosebumps but the warmth of his other arm gave you comfort.

You wrap your arms around his bare torso and snuggled your face into his neck. God he smelt good. With a little courage coursing through you, you gave him a small kiss on the neck before giving him a little love bite, nothing that would bruise.

Bucky chuckled moving a part from you, just enough to get a full look at your face. Without saying anything he leaned in, his eyes hooded, placing his lips on yours. One of his hands found its way to your head while the other rested on your hip. You pushed your body closer to his, while gently dragging your nails across his back.

"Mm Doll." He mumbled against your lips. "I... I want to continue this with you if that's alright with you."

"Yes, Bucky." And in an instant after giving him the word, he maneuvered you onto your back while he hovered on top of you, his dogtags dangling down. He removed them from his body.

"Don't want those hitting your pretty face." He smiled and leaned in to kiss you once again, this time him slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His warm hand rested on your neck before he slowly dragged it down your chest and to the hem of your shirt. He messed with it a little, teasing to go underneath. You whine a bit and arch your back as he kept messing with it.

"May I?" You simply nod in response. He pushed himself away from you and took the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it. The cold air hitting your now exposed chest made you shiver. "No bra? Naughty." He smirked.

"I'm not the one who came out only his his boxers."

"Touché." He tossed your shirt onto the ground and soaked in the view below him. The perfect lighting leaking through the blinds illuminated everything in just the right way. James licked his lips, "You are gorgeous, doll."

"You're pretty handsome yourself." You smile, which made him smile.

"Let me treat you like a goddess. Let me repay the favor." Without another word James attacked your neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking on the area. He continued leaving love marks from your neck down to your chest slowly. The sensation made you moan as tingles went through your body. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to leave hickies on your chest.

Bucky used his non-vibranium hand to cup your right breast, kneading it gently. Maintaining eye contact with you his leans his head down to your free breast before giving your raised nipple a quick lick. The feel made your body shake ever so slightly, making him smirk at the reaction. He did it again, although this time slower before latching on, using his tongue to swipe over the sensitive bump.

"Bucky-" You gasped. You felt heat slowly build in your core, not enough to have you screaming, but enough to feel pleasurable. "That feels so good." He continued giving your tender breasts and nipples attention, slowly building you up.

"Lets get these pajama shorts off." He sat up again, moving himself lower on the bed. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and began slowly removing them while you lifted your legs to help. Discarding them like your shirt, he tosses those articles of clothing to the floor. You were left with just your panties

His hands take your knees and help spread your legs farther a part, soaking in the view of your body spread out. His mouth found its place on your in thigh. He left small kissed, sometimes little bites, and he dragged his mouth closer and closer to your wet pussy. "I want to taste you doll, is that alright?"

"Y-yes Bucky, please." You begged, adjusting your hips ever so slightly. "I want to feel you more."

"As you wish." He smirked. Before he removes your panties he places soft kissed over the fabric covering your pussy. You stifle a moan, as he continued to tease you against the fabric. When he was done, he remove your underwear with ease.

"You are stunning, absolutely stunning." His hand found its way to your slit. He gently brushed his fingers over your sensitive skin, making your body twitch ever so slightly. "You're so wet for me, already." His tongue slowly and softly dragged around your vagina and clit, the teasing is back on.

"A-Ah!" You quietly moaned, trying to keel your voice down. You moan again when you felt one metal finger enter slowly while his mouth latched to your clit. One of your hands reached down to grip his hair as he began to finger and play with your clitoris.

The pleasure had your curling your toes. You had to bite your lip to hold back from moaning loudly. You didn't feel like waking up the others.

Another finger entered as he started to speed up his motions, his tongue and mouth still on your clitoris.

"That feels so good." You said with an airy tone as he continued to work.

"You taste divine." His breath against your sensitive skin made you your thighs clamp around his head. The pleasure was building up and you felt like your were close to cumming.

"J-James, - oh god!" You kept your voice down but the work he is doing to your clit made it hard to stay quiet. "Fuck-"

James give your clit one last lick before sitting, removing his fingers in the process. He then licked his fingers clean as he stared down at your panting body. He could feel his cock wanting to be free from his boxers so he removed them, letting his large erection out. He watched you squirm as you awaited for his touch again.

"Do you want my dick inside you, doll?"

"Ye-yes please." You begged, wiggling your hips for him. "Please!"

"God your so hot." He leaned back over you, placing a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips. Lining himself up to your entrance he looked to you. "Ready?"

"Yes!" He smiled, and slowly slide his cock inside you. You gasp as you feel him stretch you out, tears stinging your eyes. He stopped once he was fully in, letting you have a moment to get adjusted. "I don't know how I'll keep my voice down."

"Bury your face into my neck, I want to hear you moan my name."

You did what he suggested, you wrapped your arms around his torso while he used his vibranium arm to stay stable and his other arm around your head to keep himself close to you. His body was completely on top of yours.

"You can move now."

James slowly moved his hips away, almost entirely removing his cock from you except the tip before thrusting back in. Your moan was successful smothered by his body. He continued thrust himself inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

"O-Oh James- yesyesyes," You mewl. "You feel so good." You heard him let out a husky groan in your ear.

"I love it when you say my name, (Y/N)." He whispered in your ear as he kept his pace. You continue to moan out his name, gripping him tight as his thrust got faster. "Fuck, your so tight."

"Shit- faster!" You begged and he obliged. "You're so good to me Bucky. You-you're perfect." You could feel his thrust starting to gst sloppy as you felt waves of pleasure course through your body.

"Baby you make me crazy." He moaned. You could feel his hand make its way down to your clit, and your body arches against his as he pressed down on the sensitive bud. He practically started pounding your pussy as he moaned in your ear.

"James I'm gonna- I'm so close!" You cry out as the the feeling kept building.

"Do it, cum for me."

It was like everything in your body started shake as the pressure finally snaps in your core. You bury your face into his chest and moan his name as blinding, white hot pleasure filled your being. Your walls tighten around his cock and you feel him start to tense.

His thrusts became harder before he finally released his thick cum inside of you before collapse onto of you, panting. Both of you were sweaty and breathing hard, but neither of you moved. The feeling of his cock inside you, twitching, was extremely hot.

"You're amazing, (Y/N)." He grinned, making you smiled.

"You're the best damn thing in my life, James."

---------

You woke up naked the next morning, curled up to an equally naked, sleeping Bucky. You smiled, remembering last nights confession and everything after that. You watch him sleep for a moment before deciding to slip out of bed to make everyone breakfast. You throw on the pajamas you wore before hand and quietly leave the room.

You close the door as quietly as and turned around, only to see Frank sitting at the table reading a magazine you had lying around.

"Oh good morning Frank." You smiled and walked past him, hoping he wouldn't notice anything. "I'm gonna make some breakfast for everyone."

"Morning, (Y/N)." He grunted. "Sleep well?"

You almost choked on air, "Yes, I did. How about you?"

"Oh you know, the couch is alright but I am a light sleeper remember? I kept hearing weird noises through the night. " Your face felt on fire as you turned to face him. He wore a smug smirk on his face. "Got something on your neck there."

You rush to grab your phone and look in the camera. Low and behold, hickies were left on your neck. "Shit."

Frank snorted, "So you finally got with your crush, huh?"

"Oh shut it you grump."

"I'm just teasing you. You know I'm happy for you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Frank."

Frank decided to help you with breakfast, taking on making bacon and sausage while you attended to making pancakes. And sure enough the rest of the people in the apartment came out.

"They're gonna see them. "

"I know, I am bracing myself for Sam's teasing." You sigh. You go and place the plate pancakes you made on the table while Frank placed the bacon and sausage he made.

"G'morning, doll. I missed ya in the morning." Bucky approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I wanted you to wake up to some breakfast." You grinned and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" You heard Sam. "I gotta get ahold of Tic Tac and Clint they owe- what the hell is on your neck (Y/N), is that what I think it is?" He groaned and sat at the table, everyone taking their spots.

"Hickies are messages on the body that can show ones presence on another-" Zemo spoke but was cut off by Sam.

"I do not want to know, Zemo. Lets just eat."

Breakfast was great. You were surprised Frank got along with the others, though it did take some talking to by Sam to break him out of his shell. You also could have sworn Buck and Frank had a stare down at one point but were both laughing and smiling.

You take hold of Bucks hand that was on the table and give it a light squeeze, smiling at him while he smiled back. Life was pleasant even after these emergency visits.

730 notes · View notes

pinkteapotwriting · 3 years

Note

Sub James and sub reader with dom Sirium and dom Remus.

The doms are out and come home to see James and reader fucking without them!

Two subs together and then a punishment from the two doms!

Also. Love your writing.

This is my first ever request!

Marauders x fem!reader

Yes this is everything thank you so much for this request. I’m honored to fulfill your first one you absolute doll <3

Warning : Smut minors dni, sub!reader, sub!james, slight pet play, degradation and spanking

Word count : 2088

---

James’s cock was throbbing, completely pulsating with desire and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get it off his mind. He couldn’t get off at all actually, at least not without permission. Remus and Sirius ran a tight ship, and he knew he’d have to wait until they got home. But they were going to be much longer, and even if he could wait, they’d probably tease him for hours being in this state, just laugh at him while he begged. No. He needed his desire satiated right now. He wandered down the hall to find the shared bedroom to search for you, who had also been left behind while Remus and Sirius were off doing god knows what.

He peered in to find you reading a book on the large king size bed. Looking oh so inviting in Sirius’s t-shirt paired with your shortest sleeping shorts. He watched as you chewed on the end of your thumb absentmindedly, wishing your lips would be doing something else. He crawled up on the bed beside you and spooned in behind as close as he could get. You wiggled back into him to get comfy, and acknowledge him at the same time. But to your great surprise he whined softly behind you. You closed your book and turned so you were chest to chest, creating more torturous friction for your bespeckled boy.

“Jamie what’s wrong?”

He just whined again and instead of explaining himself he rolled over you, resituating it so he was on top of you between your legs rubbing against you, while kissing your neck. You just giggled, despite the instant feeling of pleasure of him rubbing against your clothed clit.

“Okay okay, I think I get it now, but we can’t. Remmy and Siri didn’t give us permission and they’ll get mad.”

You were much better at following the rules, but it was easy for James to get you into trouble. Tears, literal tears were forming in his eyes as he continued to grind into you, burying his face in your chest.

“Please, please y/n need it so bad. Need you so bad. It hurts, I know they could get mad but I can’t wait any longer it hurts. Please.”

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head and rubbed his hair soothingly.

“Okay Jamie, it’s okay. We have to be quick though so they don’t find out, alright? Come on baby lie down for me and let me help.”

He was relieved as he flopped on his back, hopefully Sirius and Remus would be gone away long enough.

---

“Y/N? James, we’re home!”

Remus was shedding his coat, eager to find you two so he could get some relaxation.

“Puppy? Prongs? Come on, we brought you something.”

Sirius’s eyes furrowed in confusion. Normally you two would rush down to meet them, this was odd.

“Come on Pads, maybe they’re just napping and can’t hear us.”

As they got closer and closer to the bedroom the answer became much more clear. They paused outside the door and shared a look, both expressions reflecting the features of anger, of dissatisfaction. Between the sound of the creaking bed, your whines were barely audible, while James sounded like he was getting the fucking of his life. And when they opened the door that’s exactly what they found.

Both of you being completely naked, James was over top of you missionary style, resting on his forearms, biting your shoulder, pounding into you like he’d never get to make you feel good again. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, hands in his hair, gripping it like gravity would stop working, pulling you away into the room’s atmosphere of desire and elation.

That atmosphere however, quickly turned into a different one, of tension, nervousness and guilt, when you both heard Sirius clear his throat. You both scrambled and pushed away from each other, but the damage was done. You two were in for it now. The worst part was Remus’s neutral face, his cold eyes. Sirius was the first to break the silence.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

You were sitting up now, but James was lying face down, hiding his shame against your thighs. You tried to coax him out, scratched lightly at his scalp, knowing if he kept this up he’d make the punishment worse.

“It’s alright Jamie, why don’t you just show them.”

He lifted himself and moved to the edge of the bed, now displaying his aching cock, with an angry red tip that was dripping precum as you all spoke. It was clear he hadn’t come yet, but was very very close. He swallowed thick as Remus knelt before him, terrified at what was about to come. Remus’s pointer finger drew a feather light straight line against James’s swollen member. James couldn’t take the dreadful silence anymore.

“Moony I’m sorry, it’s my fault. It hurt so much so I made Y/N feel bad so she could make it go away. I was desperate, just wanted it to go away, I’m sorry.”

Remus smiled a little before rising to his full height. If James was blubbering now, this was going to be a long night.

“James, we both know you’re not supposed to touch things that aren’t yours, right?”

“Right.”

“See, that’s the thing. You were being greedy and selfish. Touching what didn’t belong to you. Touching me and Sirius’s puppy. Such a needy slut, couldn’t even wait and when Pads and I were only out to bring you and Y/N a present.”

James looked at Sirius (who had his arms crossed and jaw clenched) then back up at Remus.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, but you will be.”

You were playing with your fingers nervously, mentally preparing yourself for your punishment as Sirius approached you. Your jaw was placed between Sirius’s thumb and fingers, pulling you closer to his lips, but instead he moved past your face to your ear.

“You’re supposed to be a good puppy, for me and Remus’s pleasure. Not for your own and certainly not for James. That clear pup?”

You nodded as much as his fierce grip would allow.

“Good, now lie down on Jamsie’s lap.”

As soon as he released you, you quickly did as you were told, shaking with anticipation as both Remus and Sirius undressed completely. You could feel James’s cock throb against you, it being pressed upright between your hip and his stomach.

Sirius joined you so he was beside James, your head close to his lap. While Remus was on the opposite side rubbing and kneading your ass.

“You’re gonna suck my cock bubs, while Remmy spanks your ass okay?”

You stuck out your tongue and opened your mouth wide for him so he could angle himself and slip past your lips.

“Moony how many swats?”

“15, only cause I wanna see her squirm while your dick is in her mouth.”

“Okay bubs, 15 hits and you’re done. 15 swats and you get to be our good puppy again. James you count. This alright love?”

You bobbed down on his dick in response.

“There’s the good girl we trained so well.”

Smack. “O-one.” “Two.”

At first it seemed like you were the only one being punished, but at closer inspection one could tell that with every jolt you made, James was right there with you. Because every movement reminded him of how over sensitive he was as your hip brushed against his length.

Smack “T-te”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re so pathetic, Y/N is being such a good girl for us and you can’t even handle her being spanked. If Y/N wasn’t being so obedient I’d make you restart. We’re at ten.”

You just hummed around Sirius as the rest of your punishment ensued, feeling like you got off pretty easy. Not that you would tell them that. James on the other hand, well, poor James. He looked at you longingly, wanting it to be his throat that Sirius was cumming down. Sirius held your cheek in his palm so he could soothe it with his thumb before running it along your bottom lip.

“Such a good pup sucking my cock so well. Need you to do something else yeah.”

You just looked up at him and nodded, peering up at him with your doe eyes. He groaned at the look of innocence you could portray so easily before taking your hand and turning you towards Remus. He pulled you in for a kiss, holding you tight as you melted into him. You were immediately interrupted by James’s needy whines, so reluctantly, Remus pulled away.

“You’re eager to be punished now, are you James? Alright then, move to the middle of the bed and lie on your back, now.”

As he did what he was told Remus guided you to straddle his waist.

“Okay Puppy you can sit on his cock, but no moving understand?”

“Yes Remmy.”

James through his head back in frustration as you sank down on him.

“Please, please I’ve learned my lesson please.”

You stayed rooted, not exactly eager to piss off your boys again, while Remus stood off to the side of the bed with his hand guiding Sirius up and down on his cock, staring with nothing but malcontent. James cried some more, tears rolling down his cheeks, heavier than before.

“Please it hurts please!”

Your eyebrows knit together in pity. You did everything you could to soothe him but it was no use. You would stroke his face, pepper kisses across his face, rub his chest, but the only thing you could to solve the problem was the one thing you weren’t allowed to do.

“It’s alright Jamie, it’ll be okay.”

You took a deep breath, risking punishment again as your heart broke wiping away his tears.

“Remmy, Siri, please let him cum. He didn’t mean to, it was hurting him please. He knows he’s yours he’s learned his lesson. Isn’t that right Jamie?”

Remus gripped Sirius’s hair tighter, fucking his throat with vigor as he got closer to gis own release.

“Alright pup you know what to do.” You started moving up and down on him as he thrust up desperately into you. “Tell me James, who do you belong to?”

“Y-you Moony. You and padfoot.”

“Good boy, you can cum now come on, do it with me.”

Sirius’s mouth and your pussy were painted white simultaneously not much later. James’s face finally relaxed, thrilled he finally was relieved of the torturous tension. That was until Sirius cut in.

“Puppy, Remus didn’t say you could stop did he? Keep going.”

Sirius moved to hold down James’s chest as he writhed underneath you

“Pads no it’s too much, it’s too much.”

“Y/N was so nice to beg to let you cum and now you won’t return the favor? You really are a selfish whore.”

Remus approached James from the other side and slipped his middle and pointer finger past his lips.

“There, that’ll shut him up. Keep going bubs you’re doing so good.”

With his other hand he reached to thumb your clit, letting out the prettiest noise Sirius and Remus had ever heard.

“It’s okay Jamie, m’close, so close. Can I cum. Please?”

Remus circled his thumb faster.

“Go ahead darling make a mess.”

You really didn’t understand how James had waited so long. It didn’t matter anymore though as you pulled out and collapsed against his chest. But Sirius was pulling you off of James completely while Remus soothed James.

“It’s alright Prongs, you can be our good boy again. Here, let’s show you what we bought.”

You and James sat against the headboard as Remus and Sirius each handed you a little box. When you opened them you found two matching delicate chains, the kind with a horizontal rectangle in the middle. But the best part was seeing the engraved initials S.B. and R.L. on the pendant.

“It’s so pretty can you put it on for me Siri?”

Sirius grinned at your excitement while clipping the necklace in the back, while Remus did the same for James. Sirius was kissing up and down the side of your neck, wanting to provide extra proof of who you belonged to while Remus fondled the pendant on James, appreciating the color choice against his flushed skin.

“There we go, now it’ll be a lot harder to forget who you belong to now huh.”

And you would never want to.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @weasleyposts @accioweaslcy

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #smut #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter smut #fanfiction smut

910 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

i would love to read coops doing one of those lie detector youtube videos!!

This was such a fun fic to research! I highly recommend watching the Try Guys Lie Detector videos if you'd like some context. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Why are there so many of these?” Remus muttered, shaking his hand around. A series of multicolored wires smacked the table and Marlene rolled her eyes as she passed. “Sorry.”

“Welcome back to Lion Pride!” Sirius said as he turned to the camera with a smile. “I’m Sirius Black, and I’m here today with my husband, Remus Lupin, to get some answers.”

“We are also joined by Mark, who is an expert at reading polygraphs,” Remus added.

A middle-aged man in a blue shirt raised his hand in a slight wave. “Thanks for having me. Since you’re already hooked up, you’ll be going first. This machine measures your sweat, your heart rate, and a couple other common tells for liars. Do you lie often?”

Remus hesitated; Sirius hid a smile in his hand. “No, since I suck at lying, but I’ll do it if it makes somebody feel better. I think I’m pretty good at that.”

They stared at the polygraph for a moment before Mark nodded. “Checks out. Take it away, Sirius.”

Sirius cleared his throat and took a notecard from his stack. “Was going to college worth it?”

“Yes,” Remus answered almost immediately. “I don’t know what I would have done without getting my degree and staying close to hockey. Wouldn’t have met you, for one.”

“True,” Mark said without looking up.

“Do you like my playoff beard?”

“I do, yeah.” Mark raised his eyebrows and Remus pressed his lips together. “Okay, sometimes it’s a little much, but you’re pretty good about keeping things under control.”

“Alright,” Sirius said with playful skepticism. “Good to know. Who’s your favorite Lion?”

“Besides you? Talker.”

“Yeah, we don’t need a polygraph to know that,” Sirius laughed when Mark nodded. “Did you like my last haircut?”

“Oh, fuck,” Remus said under his breath, looking away.

“I knew it.”

“It wasn’t bad—”

“He’s lying,” Mark interrupted.

Remus turned to him with betrayal written all over his expression. “Dude!”

“You are.”

“Answer the question, Loops,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair. “How did you feel about my last haircut?”

He bit his lower lip. “It was a little too short and really threw me off for a couple days. But you didn’t like it, either.”

“I didn’t,” Sirius agreed, grinning. “But I vividly remember several ‘no, honey, you look great’ conversations.”

“Next question,” Remus sighed.

“Ha! This one is self-explanatory. Have you ever lied to me?”

“Yes, but only when I knew it would make you feel better.”

“True,” Mark confirmed.

“Do you think you’re a better dog owner than me?”

Remus thought for a moment. “No.”

“True.”

“Do you think I’m a better dog owner than you?” Sirius asked.

“No. I think we balance each other well, and we wouldn’t be as good apart.”

“True again.”

“Interesting.” Sirius surveyed the cards. “Do you trust me?”

“A hundred percent,” Remus answered without hesitation. Mark nodded.

“Do you think I would be a good dad?”

He rested his chin on his hand, then smiled a little. “I do, yeah. I think you know what to do and what notto do, and you’re very protective without being controlling. So, yeah. You’d be a good dad.”

Mark glanced over. “He’s telling the truth.”

Sirius leaned across the table and kissed Remus on the cheek. “Merci. Oh, this’ll be fun. Is any of our relationship just for show, especially on Lion Pride?”

Remus narrowed his eyes with a hum. “Yes and no.”

“Pick one,” Mark said.

“In a general sense? Yeah, sure. We’re not perfect all the time, but we pretend to be. The specifics stay honest, though. None of our relationship is based on building clout. We keep the core genuine.”

The polygraph beeped for a moment. “He’s telling the truth.”

“This one is super morbid. Ready?” Sirius rested his elbows on the table. “You are Spiderman, and you’re holding two trolleys over a lake. One holds me, and one holds Jules. Which one do you drop?”

“I love you, but I would absolutely drop you,” Remus said after only a brief period of thought.

“Oh, thank god,” Sirius huffed. “I would be so upset if it was the other way around.”

“Right? I love you more than anything, but it’s Jules.”

Remus turned to Mark, who shrugged. “True.”

“Do you think we live together well?” Sirius asked.

“After a full year of it?” Remus laughed. “Yeah, I do.”

“True.”

Sirius checked the list and his eyebrows rose. “You’re going to hate this one.”

“Am I?”

“What do you really think about my parents?”

Remus’ smile turned thin and Sirius spread his hands in a see? motion. He was quiet for a few seconds, then ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m allowed to use those words on this channel. Um, I don’t like them.”

Mark snorted. “Very true.”

“Last one,” Sirius warned, though his eyes crinkled happily at the edges. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“That’s cute,” Remus said. “And…yeah. I think I do.”

“Wrong,” Sirius said before Mark could answer. “You have absolutely no idea.”

“Sap,” Remus scoffed. His cheeks were pink, and he pressed a quick kiss to Sirius’ temple while they swapped chairs.

“He was telling the truth,” Mark informed them as he helped Remus untangle his arm and hand, then transferred the devices to Sirius. “Though I am interested to see the flipside. Do you lie often?”

“Not anymore. I’m pretty good at it, though.”

“First one: have you ever had a crush on one of your teammates?”

“Oh, for sure,” Sirius said with a light laugh. “I never did anything about it, but I was the king of pining for a solid decade.”

“True,” Mark affirmed.

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “Who is the handsomest Lion?”

Sirius bit his lip, making a thoughtful noise. “That’s a tough one. I’m assuming a player other than you?”

“Yes.”

“In that case…I think Dumo is the classic definition of ‘handsome’ even though he is so not my type, but Kasey might be the most attractive.”

“Not Pots?” Remus teased. Sirius pulled a face and flicked him on the arm.

“He’s being honest,” Mark said.

“Do you think you’re the best player on the team?”

“…no.”

“He’s lying.”

“Shit.” Sirius sighed heavily as Remus looked at him over the edge of his notecard. “Look, it’s—it’s not an ego thing.”

“It’s the captain thing, isn’t it?” Remus sounded quite amused.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, defeated. “It’s stupid, I know.”

Mark nodded. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Oh, another parent one,” Remus remarked. “Did my parents scare you?”

“Not really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “You’re right in the middle.”

“Huh.” He thought for a few seconds. “I think seeing you all together was a lot like meeting Dumo’s family the first time. You’re just so…normal. And you genuinely like each other. So I wasn’t scared, but it was definitely an adjustment.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they adore you. I’m glad we didn’t chase you off, though. Does it really bother you that I leave my socks around the house?”

Sirius pressed his lips together as several people off-screen began to laugh. “I can’t answer that.”

“See, that’s all the answer I need.”

“Fine. Yes, but only because I don’t know where you get them from. You don’t actually own that many socks, and I still find them every-fucking-where.”

“True,” Mark said.

“I’ll try to keep a better eye on things,” Remus assured him, smiling. “You are Spiderman, and you’re holding two trolleys over a lake. One holds me, and one holds James. Which one do you drop?”

“Goddammit,” Sirius muttered, tilting his head back. He thought for a long, long moment. “I can’t answer that.”

The polygraph buzzed. “False.”

Sirius shook his head. “Neither of you. I wouldn’t drop either.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “True.”

“On a much lighter note,” Remus said with a cough. “Which of us is lazier?”

“Me.”

“True.”

“Really?” Remus gave him a baffled look. “You work so hard all the time.”

Sirius shrugged. “Agree to disagree?”

“Fine, but I hope you know taking time for yourself doesn’t mean you’re lazy.” He shuffled through the cards. “Oh, this’ll be very interesting. Do you think I talk too much?”

“No.”

“True.”

Remus sat back in his chair, a pleased blush coloring his cheeks. “Wasn’t expecting that. Good answer, I love you. Do you think we’ll get divorced someday?”

“Oh, god, no.” Sirius’ previous self-satisfaction turned to revulsion. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“True,” Mark said again. “For someone who said he was good at lying, you’re very honest.”

“No point in lying with that thing around, is there?”

Remus shrugged. “Saves time, for sure. Have you kissed any of our friends?”

“Yeah,” he snorted.

To his credit, Mark didn’t even let a smile slip through. “True.”

“Do you enjoy getting stopped in public by fans?”

“Fans, yes. Ex-fans who take it upon themselves to explain why I shouldn’t be gay, no.” He paused, then shook his head with a smile. “I’m not good at talking to people, but I do like it when people say hello. It’s cool.”

“True.”

Remus raised his notecards. “Two left, and the first one is hella morbid.”

“Hella,” Sirius murmured, earning himself a teasing glare.

“Watch it. If I died, how long would you wait to get remarried?”

The playfulness dropped away. “What?”

“If I died, how long would you wait to get remarried?” Remus repeated.

Sirius looked horrified by the very thought. “I wouldn’t.”

“True,” Mark said, seemingly uncaring about the alarm on Sirius’ face.

“Even if it happened tomorrow?”

“First of all, thanks for my new nightmare. Second, no. I wouldn’t get married again.” He kissed Remus’ forehead gently. “Let’s not test that, though. Like ever.”

“Deal. Ready for the last one?”

“As long as nobody else is in danger of death.”

“I dunno, it’s a tough one.” Remus gave him a solemn look across the table. “I need you to be really honest with me on this one. Do you think you have better hair?”

Sirius blinked at him, then burst out laughing. Even Mark’s lips twitched into a suppressed smile. “Oh my god.”

“What’s so funny?” Remus asked, completely poker-faced. “This is important, honey. I’m really counting on you to be genuine with me here—”

“You can’t even—” Sirius broke off again and gestured to Remus’ face, which turned steadily pinker as he bit down a grin. “You can’t even keep a straight face.”

“My face is the only straight thing about me. You know this. Answer the question.”

“He’s trying so hard,” Sirius managed as he looked to the camera. “So hard, mon dieu.”

“Shit,” Remus muttered as he finally gave in and hid his laughter in the crook of his elbow. “We were doing so well until now! It’s the last question, just answer it!”

Sirius wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and nodded. “I do think I have better hair, but I love yours, too.”

Mark chuckled. “True.”

“It would help if you finally got a haircut that was different from the one you’ve had since you were thirteen.”

Remus closed his eyes, sighing. “Y’know, exposing my haircut choices for the entire internet to mock really wasn’t how I planned this day going.”

“Isn’t that the point of this whole video?”

“Mark, I’m not sure if we owe you an apology or not, but thank you for putting up with us.” Remus turned back to the camera with an easy smile. “Thanks for joining us today, everyone. Make sure to like and subscribe to Lion Pride for more videos like this!”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #social media #lion pride #lie detector

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redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit)

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two ‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Under Consent of the King: Steve x Reader x Bucky

This story is inspired by the myth that the word ‘fuck’ comes from Fornication Under Consent of the King, where sex had basically been outlawed unless permitted by the king. I have spun the myth a little to make it so that sex out of wedlock can be permitted by the king. This fic follows an established poly-relationship between King!Steve, the Reader, and Knight!Bucky.

Word Count: 10,481 (holy cow this is the longest one-shot I have ever written)

Warnings: NSFW Content (18+), Poly relationship, m/f/m, oral (f/r), unprotected sex, oral (m/r), threesome

The metallic twang of clashing swords rings in your ears. The sound travels through your eardrums as a vibration, just as the power vibrates through your arms with each hit. You ground your feet into the dirt below you, planting yourself like a tree to be unmovable as your opponent tries to force you to yield.

In a battle of strength, you and Natasha are fairly evenly matched. You know that she’s testing how tired you’ve become. Sweat beads down your temple and makes the cotton of your loose tunic stick to your back. Your chest heaves for breath, the air burning in your lungs from the exertion of the fight.

The weight of her blade is lifted and you immediately shift your stance. No longer planted down, you move light on your feet as the two of you circle each other. You keep your balance easily with the leather boots on your feet and your movement is unencumbered by the tight breeches you wear.

Both of your hands tighten their grip on the hilt of your sword as you prepare for her next attack. You don’t have to wait long. She darts forward and your swords meet with another clang. There’s an uncomfortable screech of metal as your blade slides down the length of hers until you have locked the hilt of your sword against hers.

Natasha’s momentum is still driving her forward as you twist to the side while your swords remain locked. Her eyes widen a fraction as one of your hands slips from the hilt of your sword to grip one of her wrists. You use her momentum against her and while she careens forward, you unlock your blades and tug at her arm. This forces her to flip forward before she lands with a harsh thud on her back.

With the wind knocked out of her, she lays motionless for a second. Just long enough for you to place the tip of your sword at her throat and call an end to the match.

She coughs the air back into her lungs before her lips split into a wide grin as she looks up at you. “You’ve got some new tricks up your sleeves.”

You grin back, sheathing your blade and holding your hand out to help her to her feet. “I may have picked up a few things on my travels.”

“I do hope you’ll share.”

With a hold on each other’s forearms, you lift her out of the dirt. “In time. I do thoroughly enjoy the idea of using them to best you first.”

Her green eyes narrow, but her smile continues to shine.

“Are the two of you quite finished?” you both turn your gazes to the approaching knight. Dark brown hair falls in waves just passed his stubble chin. Focused and piercing blue eyes capture yours. A small frown tilts his plump lips. “She had barely stepped foot on the castle grounds before you whisked her off to a duel. At least let her rest from her journey, Natasha.” Though he speaks to the redhead beside you, his gaze is solely trained on you.

You can hear the snicker from your friend. “He’s been insufferable the entire time you’ve been gone,” she tells you, low enough that he can’t hear. “They both have.” Releasing your arm, she takes a step back and gives a sweeping bow. “I leave her in your capable hands, Commander Barnes.” She smirks knowingly before heading off.

Taking Natasha’s lead, you place a fist over your heart and bow. “You bless me with your presence, Lord James.”

“Stop that,” he chastises lightly as his frown deepens.

He catches sight of your cheeky grin when you straighten back up. It’s infectious and melts the frown from his lips. His eyes soften as he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. His gaze sweeps over your features, taking in everything within sight. “How was your journey?”

“Sam should have given his full report to the council. Were you not paying attention?” Your eyes light with mischief and amusement. You had spent the better part of the last four months on a diplomatic mission with one of the King’s most trusted advisors, Sam. You traveled the neighboring kingdoms, reviewing terms of the treaties in place to keep the peace between your lands. Sam, with his charming smile, kind eyes, and fair-weather attitude had been perfect for the task. He could ease tensions between two bickering nobles with a grace and finesse like no other.

You had been assigned as part of his protection detail. Though it was really only a formality. Sam Wilson was more than capable of taking care of himself. But as the Black Rose of Brooklyn, a name granted to you by your King upon achieving your knighthood status, you had a reputation of your own to uphold.

James narrows his gaze at you. “Yes, I paid attention. I’m not asking about the diplomacy, I’m asking about you.”

You laugh, enjoying the fact that you can still so easily get under his skin. Looping your arm through his, the two of you walk side by side as you leave the training grounds and head for the gardens.

“Did any of those idiot noblemen give you trouble?”

You grin to yourself, sensing the jealousy in his voice. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“They try to touch you?” he presses, his jaw tightening at the thought.

You look at him with amusement, “They couldn’t have even if they wanted to.” Pulling him to a stop beneath the shade of a large tree, you turn to stand in front of him. “If it’s my virtue you ask about, you needn’t be so concerned.”

With just a few short steps he has your back pressed to the trunk of the tree. Blue flame flickers behind his gaze, as the heat from his body seeps into yours. “How can I be concerned over a virtue I have already taken?”

His lips are on you before you can respond. You moan into his mouth, threading your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. His hips rock forward, grinding the beginnings of his arousal against you. You realize that he must have already been half-hard after seeing your duel with Natasha. It’s no secret that watching you wield a sword gets his blood hot.

You can count on one hand the number of men you would willingly relinquish control and submit to. James knows that he’s one of them. He dominates the kiss and controls your body as if it were his own. One of his hands slides passed your hip and over your thigh, slipping beneath the sword strapped at your waist to lift your leg up and more easily slot his erection between your spread thighs. He locks your knee against his hip and thrusts into you.

A whimper escapes from your lips as he pulls his away.

“I missed you,” his hushed confession wisps over your face.

“Yes, I can tell,” you giggle teasingly.

His eyes blaze in warning before he gives a harder thrust against you, catching the head of his cock against where you’re certain that your own arousal is beginning to seep through your pants. “Did you miss me?” he prompts in question.

Your teasing smile turns tender, “You know that I did.”

He brushes his nose against yours and kisses both of your closed eyelids. “I will have you again tonight,” he pledges with promise.

You hum languidly, pulling your hands from his hair to rest them over his broad shoulders. “You will need consent from the king.”

His eyes flash with desire. “Meet me tonight when the moon is at its peak. You know where.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

He gives you one last bruising kiss before escorting you back to the castle and returning to his duties. You make your way through the castle to your personal chambers where lunch and a hot bath are already waiting for you. A soft smile curls at your lips as your heart flutters for the man you know is responsible for ensuring these were made ready for you.

A grape is plucked from the lunch platter and popped into your mouth, the sweet flavor bursting on your tongue as you bite into its flesh. Your hands then move to the belt at your waist, undoing the buckle with familiar ease and resting your sword against the wall. You discard the remainder of your clothes and choose a few scented oils from the selection in the basket left near the tub. Once the desired fragrance has filled your senses, you sink into the delectable heat of the bath.

The lunch platter has been strategically placed on a table within arm’s reach from your reclined position, so you continue to enjoy your lunch while simultaneously basking in the bliss of your bath. After the months of travel and the strain of spending days at a time on horseback, your body is more than happy to receive a little pampering. Your muscles relax with the swirling heat and your head floats on sweetly scented clouds.

With the platter mostly cleared and the water beginning to cool, you take the time to wash away the sweat and grime from your skin and hair before stepping out of the water and wrapping yourself in a drying cloth. With a full belly and sated muscles, you spend the rest of your afternoon cooped up in your chambers, allowing yourself to indulge in the rest you know your body is going to need.

It’s late in the evening when you finally emerge. Most of the castle is asleep. With a finger curled into the loop at the side of the metal holding dish, the single candle helps to light your way as you travel through the darkened halls. Your bare feet are silent on the plush red carpet that stretches over the expansive hallways. The material of your dressing gown swirls around your legs with each step.

You climb a set of stairs and follow the length of another long hall before reaching your destination. Your free hand reaches out to caress the ornately carved wooden doors. They are certainly a welcomed sight after spending so long away from the castle. Curling your hand into a fist, you rap two sharp knocks against the wood.

It takes a short second before the door on the left is pulled inward. Icy blue eyes catch the light of your flickering candle as his gaze sweeps over you. James smirks and steps back, permitting your entrance into the grand chambers. He takes the candle holder from your hands and indicates for you to step deeper into the room with a jerk of his head.

Following his line of direction, you spot the seated figure in the middle of the spacious bedroom. The fire burning in the hearth at the far corner of the room casts shades of red and orange through his normally golden locks. He watches your approach with a sharp gaze. Gathering the folds of your dressing gown between your fingers, you stretch the fabric out and fall into a curtsey. “Your majesty,” you greet humbly.

You keep your gaze lowered, despite hearing the rustle of fabric as he stands from his chair. He towers over your hunched form, but his hand is gentle when it cups your chin and guides you back upright. Your eyes lift and meet his, watching how they glide over your features.

“How is it that your time away has only made you more beautiful?” his hushed words caress your lips like a teasing lover.

Your heart pounds in your chest and there’s a pleasurable flutter in your stomach. “Thank you, my King.”

He tilts your chin up even higher, baring your neck to him as his own face angles downward. Your body shivers in delight at the way his nose slopes down your neck. He breathes in deep and slow, taking in the remnants of the scented oils on your skin. A low hum reverberates through his chest, sending prickling awareness to your nether regions. “Jasmine and rose. I trust you enjoyed the bath I had drawn up for you, then?” his head pulls back, eyes catching yours once against.

Your fingers clench at the fabric of your dressing gown, trying desperately to resist the urge to reach out for him. “Yes, very much. Thank you, my King.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he attempts to fight his smile. “How many times must I tell you that there is no need for formalities when it’s just the three of us? Why do you persist?”

It’s a losing battle to fight against your own smile. “Because I know how much you secretly enjoy it.”

He loses his own fight as his lips stretch into a tilted smirk. “Well then, your King would like to formally welcome you home.”

The blood runs hot in your veins as your body buzzes with the excitement of what’s about to come. “I accept your formal invitation but hope for a rather informal welcome.”

One of his hands, large and strong, glides against the small of your back, pulling you in closer to his frame. “As you wish,” his mouth slants over yours.

You hum happily into his kiss, arms wrapping loosely around his neck. The hand at your back pulls you even closer until any possible space between your bodies has been sealed. His other hand moves to cradle the back of your head, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Kisses from your king hit differently than those that come from your armored knight. Where Sir Barnes kisses you like you’re in the midst of battle, giving way to hurried touches and fervent desire; King Rogers kisses you like he’s leading you through a twirling waltz, providing languid caresses and passionate yearning. Both men have their own methods of stripping you down to your barest parts. Like fire and ice. Like wind and rock. Two sides of the same coin. It’s a currency only you can understand.

You’ve loved the two of them together nearly your whole life. As the daughter of the Knight Commander, you’d had the privilege of growing up in the castle alongside both of them. In your earlier years, you all shared your literacy and etiquette lessons. When Steve reached his twelfth summer and had finally begun to grow out of the ailments that used to plague his young body, he and Bucky were taken from you to begin their knighthood training. You were forced into new lessons better fitted for your gender. Or so you were told.

One afternoon, after spending the morning watching the boys train from the windows of the library, you’d managed to pin them both down after their lessons and begged them to teach you how to fight. Steve had seemed hesitant but amenable to the idea, but Bucky had flat out refused. He’d told you that a battlefield was no place for a woman. That girls weren’t even capable of wielding a sword. His words made you so angry that you curled your fist back and punched him straight in the nose.

Your mother had been horrified once news spread around the castle about what you had done. Your father, however, had been markedly proud. You had been made to openly apologize to Bucky in front of Lord and Lady Barnes, but you were also enrolled in the knighthood lessons with them the very next day.

Bucky in his later years would eventually confess that despite the bloody nose and bruised ego, that had been the very moment that he fell in love with you.

A moment of revelation had never really occurred for you. You’re not sure when the love of children and friendship had turned into one of romantic attraction. You just know that there had always been enough room in your heart for the two of them.

Bucky had been your first. He had also been the logical choice. His skill with a blade allowed him to rise through the knighthood ranks. It was clear that in time he would replace your father’s position as Knight Commander. He was boyish and charming, kissing you in the spiral stairwells, fleeting touches during combat practice, flirting while you held a blade to his throat. You gave him your virtue one night in the highest tower of the castle, beneath the light of a full moon. It was perfect. It made sense.

But there was still a part of you that seemed to long for your crowned prince.

When Steve caught wind of the budding romance between his two best friends, he began to recede into himself and drew away from the both of you. He dove headfirst into his royal duties as a distraction. He began to attend council meetings with his father, acting as the king’s shadow, learning all the intricacies of running the kingdom.

Your worry for his wellbeing grew the more that he shut both you and Bucky out. He always looked tired and stressed, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You attempted to confront him on multiple occasions, asking if there was anything that you could do to help ease his burdens. You wanted to be there for your friend and to support the man you secretly loved. But he brushed you off every time.

As it would turn out, Steve’s dedication to his royal duties would be both a blessing and a curse. When the King and Queen of Brooklyn perished at sea during a winter storm, Steve was fully capable and ready to ascend to the throne. Your fear for his health grew tenfold when he completely retreated from everyone during the month of mourning after the loss of his parents. He took his meals in his study, sometimes slept in there too. He buried himself in work instead of allowing his mind and body a chance to heal as is intended for the allotted month before he would be crowned king.

On the night before his coronation, you snuck into his bed chambers, picking the lock with the method Bucky had taught you both as children to steal sweets from the kitchen pantry. Steve had been surprised to see you, curled up in a chair by the fire with a book in his lap instead of sleeping like he should have been before such an important day. When he asked what you were doing there, you’d responded by telling him you were there to support your best friend.

You remember seeing the hope flicker in his eyes before it was quickly snuffed out like a candle. He attempted to brush you off once again, telling you that he didn’t need anyone. When you stood your ground and told him that you weren’t leaving, he quickly grew angry, unused to your defiance. He tossed the book aside and stood from his chair, resorting to intimidation by lording his bulky frame over yours. You held his gaze challengingly and stated quite clearly that it was impossible for a single man to run an entire kingdom by himself. And that whether he liked it or not, he wasn’t alone in facing the trials that lay before him. You weren’t going to let him push you away any longer.

You had finished your speech by launching yourself at him, burying your face into his warm chest, wrapping your arms tight around his torso, and praying that he wouldn’t force you to leave.

He hadn’t.

For the first few moments of your embrace, he had stood perfectly still, like a statue, unable to reciprocate or push you away as his mind tried to catch up with what was happening. And then almost hesitantly, as if he was afraid you might vanish into thin air if he moved too fast, his arms began to circle around you. When he realized that you weren’t going to disappear on him, his hold on you became uncomfortably tight. He gripped you with a desperation that nearly broke your heart. When his shoulders began to shake and your own shoulder grew wet, your heart really did break.

You continued to hold him as he cried. You held him when his legs grew weak and he sunk to the floor. You pulled him in close and ran soothing fingers through his hair and down his neck, encouraging him to let it all out. He cried over the grief of losing his parents. He cried over the fear of the responsibilities and unknowns that would fall to him as king. He cried over the wasted weeks spent pushing you away when being here in your arms was exactly where he’d longed to be.

You sat patiently in his lap, allowing him all the time he needed to work through his emotions. It had been long overdue and you weren’t about to rush it. When he finally lifted his head from your shoulder, he had looked at you like you were everything. It was a look that made your heart race and your stomach flutter, even with his red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. It was in that moment that a confession of love had slipped passed his lips before he pressed them to yours.

Your eyes widened in shock at his unexpected kiss. You didn’t respond, but also couldn’t find the strength in your heart to push him away.

When Steve finally realized what he had been doing he pulled away abruptly with a string of apologies falling from his mouth. In a flurry of movement that your shocked mind had been unable to fully process, Steve had lifted you off the floor and deposited you into the hall outside his chamber door. His eyes flashed you a look of pure heartbreak as one last apology left him before the door fell shut.

You don’t know how long you spent standing there, eyes unfocused and fingers pressed to your lips. In a sort of daze, you made your way through the halls of the castle, barely regaining your presence of mind as your fingers rapped against a different door. Bucky was a light sleeper, so it hadn’t taken him long to come to the door. When he saw the upset look on your face, he knew immediately that something was wrong. All he had to do was ask before a full confession tumbled out of you.

You don’t even know why you had told him the complete and honest truth about what had just transpired between you and Steve. But Bucky wasn’t just your lover. He was also your best friend and confidant. You knew that you could tell him anything and would receive no judgment.

He listened intently and made no comment until he was sure you were finished. Grabbing the sides of your face, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead. He whispered words of assurance, telling you that everything would be okay before he took one of your hands within his and marched you back in the direction you had just come from.

In true Bucky Barnes fashion, he barreled his way straight back into Steve’s private chambers. As he made his way straight for his future King a flash of fear shot through Steve’s eyes. You admit that you may have felt a bit of that fear yourself because you had no idea what Bucky had planned to do.

You never could have guessed what was going to happen next. As soon as Steve was within arm’s reach, Bucky’s free hand darted out. In the next second, he was slipping your hand into Steve’s. The blonde gave his friend a look of confusion before his eyes drifted down to where his fingers were curled around yours. Your hand fit perfectly against his like it was something that was always meant to be.

This time, it was Bucky’s turn to provide a confession. He told you that he loved you both more than anything in the kingdom. He admits that he’d always known that he wasn’t the only man to hold a place in your heart and that he believed the love you felt for both of them was not meant to cause a divide between their friendship but was instead meant to be shared. The three of you had always been your best when you were all together. Why should this be any different?

That night, you showered your prince with love and kisses while Bucky taught him all the methods he had come to learn in the art of bringing you pleasure. Like with most things, Steve proved to be a quick study. By the time the three of you collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs across Steve’s expansive bed, the sun’s rays had already started to peak over the horizon. Later that same day, both you and Bucky stood at his side while Steve was crowned King of Brooklyn.

You are pulled from your memories by the slip of Steve’s tongue into your mouth. You moan at the taste of him. You aren’t able to get nearly enough before he is leaning away. A low chuckle escapes him as you attempt to give chase. His hand moves from the back of your head to cradle the edge of your jaw, thumb swiping over the wet saliva clinging to your lower lip.

He looks at you with a hooded gaze. “Tell me, how did the other kingdoms treat our beautiful Black Rose of Brooklyn?”

You give him a knowing look. Both Sam and Bucky would have given him their full reports by now, and yet, he still wants to hear it from you. “I didn’t start any wars if that’s what you’re asking.”

He grins at the bite in your tone. “They have certainly started for less. If ever there were a face that could launch a thousand ships, it would be yours.”

A satisfied flutter tickles your belly as you laugh. “My, haven’t we become quite the flatterer? Those lessons with Bucky are surely paying off.” You glance over your shoulder at your dark-haired lover, who watches your every move with keen interest. You shoot him a wink before turning back to your king. “Has he asked for your consent?”

Steve’s gaze darkens considerably. “He has.”

The deep tenor of his voice makes you shiver. “And did you give it?”

“Not yet,” he releases his hold from your waist and steps back giving a long sweep of his gaze over your figure. “Acts of pleasure are a sin when conducted out of wedlock. Only permissible as fornication under consent of the king. First, you must present yourself to your King for inspection.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, a thrill of excitement running through you at the prospects of that. A teasing smirk tilts your already kiss swollen lips. Your hands fall to the tie at the front of your robe and your hips sway with every step you take backward toward the gigantic bed that’s centered against the back wall. “You both truly believe that I’ve been naughty, don’t you?” They follow your movements with heated eyes and tense shoulders. Two elite hunters after their delectably sweet prey.

With a slow tug, you free the knot at your waist. In one move, the dressing gown is pushed from your shoulders and pools delicately at your feet. The two men look poised and ready to pounce as your naked body is instantly bared to them. Taking it one step further, the back of your knees hit the cushioned bench at the foot of the king’s bed. You lower yourself elegantly onto the soft cushions before leaning back to prop your elbows up on the foot of the plush mattress behind you.

Your gaze flickers between two sets of gorgeous eyes in varying shades of molten blue. You settle back on those of your king. You continue to hold his gaze as your knees lift and pull apart until your feet are settled on the top edge of the bench as far spread as you can allow with your thighs stretched open. “I surrender myself to the king’s inspection.”

Both men swallow thickly, eyes traveling to the apex of your thighs where the firelight makes the slick of your arousal glisten. “Would you be opposed if I took her first pleasure this evening?” Steve asks, eyes still trained on the feast laid bare before him.

Bucky smirks darkly. “It’s within your rights, my King.” He yields, knowing that it will be just as pleasurable to watch while he waits for his turn.

Steve stalks toward you like an apex predator. His right hand grips the back of your calf, lifting your foot off the cushioned bench to hook your leg around his waist. His knee lands on the bench beneath your thigh aiding in locking your leg around him. His left hand falls to the mattress above your shoulder as he takes his place above your prone position.

The open collar of his cream-colored shirt hangs loose in the front, revealing a teasing hint at the muscles of his torso that lie beneath the cotton material. “Why do you conceal yourself from me?” you ask with a pout.

He breathes a short laugh, “In due time, my love. First, you must prove you are worthy of your king’s consent.”

Dropping from your elbows onto the mattress, you reach your hand out to grab his wrist above where his hand holds the side of your knee. You guide his hand as it travels the length of your thigh until his fingers are curled against your wet heat. “I trust that you will be pleased with your findings.” Your breasts heave in anticipation as you hold his gaze with lidded eyes.

His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks as he fights to maintain his composure. Thick fingers circle your entrance, ticking your folds and collecting your slick. He watches your face intently as one finger pushes its way into you. Your lips part in a shaky breath and whatever sound you had planned to make gets caught in your throat.

The king’s brow furrows. Even with the abundance of arousal, your body is slightly resistant to the intrusion of his finger. He works his way into you gently until you finally take him all the way to the knuckle.

“How does she feel?” Bucky’s voice sounds distant due to the blood rushing in your ears.

“Tight,” Steve responds, still looking at you curiously. “She can barely even take a single finger.”

You clench around the single digit, hips jutting against his palm. “Have I restored your trust in my faithfulness?” you ask, your voice breaking from the restraint it takes to not fuck yourself with reckless abandon against his one finger.

Steve’s kingly façade falls away in an instant as a look of tender affection softens his features. “Oh love… your faith was never in question.”

The bed dips to your right as Bucky sits on the edge of the mattress. His hand stretches out to slowly stroke his fingers across your cheek. “When were you last touched?”

Embarrassment prevents you from meeting his gaze until the feathered touch on your cheek makes you turn your head toward him. “The morning I left Brooklyn.”

Steve’s finger pulls out of you, drawing your attention back to him. “You knew that we were joking when we forbade you from any indulgences without us, didn’t you?” He shoots Bucky a worried look, wondering if they had taken their jests too far.

“Yes, I knew,” you assure him quickly. “I never once, not even for a second, believed that you could be serious in such matters. I just… couldn’t.” Your voice falls away, unsure of how to properly explain yourself.

“Did you not think of us when you were away?” Bucky asks you.

Your eyes widen, horrified that he could have such thoughts. You reach your hand out to clasp his and thread your fingers between his. “I thought of you both every moment of every day. My body ached with how desperately I missed you. But… the touch of my own hands cannot compare to how my body lights up when I am with either of you. I know that it had been said in jest the morning of my departure, but my pleasure really does belong to the two of you alone. Relishing in the memories of your touch is not enough to sustain me. I need you.”

“You have us,” Steve promises. “Always and forever.” He leans down and places a chaste kiss over your heart. With his head lifted back up, he meets your gaze once more. “Now four months is a terribly long time to have gone without the touch of pleasure. It would be my honor to bring you to release, my love.”

Your leg tightens around his waist as a shiver makes its way through you. “Please,” you beg. Your body is wound tighter than a bowstring that’s seconds away from the snap.

His hand returns to your leg. With a gentle nudge, he pulls your calf off of him for a brief moment, only to then promptly fall to his knees before you as he guides your leg to rest in place, draped over his shoulder. It’s both a humbling and empowering feeling that floods you whenever your king kneels before you. The man who holds the highest power in the kingdom and he will forsake it in the name of bringing you pleasure. It’s a feeling you don’t get to bask in for very long because once he has his mouth on you, all coherent thought vanishes in an instant.

Steve is an insatiable and enthusiastic lover. In everything he does, he gives his complete and undivided attention. He places your second leg on his other shoulder before clamping his hands over the tops of your thighs and ravishes you like a man starved.

“O-Oh!” you cry out, back arching and body writhing against the onslaught of his talented tongue. He laps over your slit and suckles your folds. Your slick paints his cheeks and his chin with the evidence of your pleasure, and he revels in it. The wet slurping sounds he makes as he devours you whole is enough to send you adrift.

Floating in an ocean of decadent carnality, there is no set course or final destination. There is only the here and now, and that is more than enough.

He pierces your entrance with his thick tongue. He laves at you, long and slow, getting your body to relax and give into him. When you are completely pliable beneath him, he pulls his face back enough to slip his finger back into your moist heat.

He watches how your body takes him as he gently thrusts the one finger into you. The wet squelch of your arousal encourages him to slip a second finger inside you. The resistance is minimal and this pleases him greatly. He shows his appreciation by trailing a series of wet butterfly kisses across your thighs and lower belly, all while continuing to bring you to the brink with his fingers.

They curl into your upper wall, pressing and rubbing at the place he knows will make your thighs shake. By the time his lips begin to descend back down your pubic mound, he’s got you stuffed full with three of his fingers.

His last kiss settles over your straining clit. He knows that he’s been denying her, but that had been his plan all along. Now that he was finally where your body craved him to be most of all, he had no plans on leaving until after you screamed his name in ecstasy.

“Oh my- Ah!” your hips buck against his face as you thrash beneath him. The hand at your thigh hooks over your abdomen to keep you pinned down. He works at your pleasure center from both angles, driving his fingers in deep and curling them into you, while his mouth ravishes your clit from above.

He flicks his tongue over the taut bud and sucks her deep into his mouth. He moans from deep within his chest and the sound travels straight to your core. Your climax starts to come at you like a charging boar. It’s strong, loud, and makes the entire earth quake.

“Steve! Don’t stop! Oh! I’m going- I’m coming- STEVE!”

Your thighs clamp around his head and though they are powerful from your knighthood training, he persists in his endeavor to bring you the greatest pleasure you have ever known. His fingers fuck you through your orgasm, feeling how you clench and tremble around them.

When the pleasure becomes too much to handle, you reach your hand down and tug gently at his blonde locks. He releases your clit from the confines of his mouth and blinks his stormy blue eyes up at you. You laugh breathlessly, “If the ladies of court knew what you could do with that mouth of yours, there would be a line from here to Asgard.”

His lips spread into a wide, self-satisfied smile; the evidence of your arousal smeared from cheek to cheek. “Now who is the flatterer?” He carefully removes his fingers from between your legs and presses a soft kiss to the inside of each of your knees as he slides your legs off of his shoulders. When he stands back up, he gives your form one last sweep of his eyes before looking to Bucky. “She’s ready for you.”

Steve turns his back to you and with all the regal confidence that comes with being king, he makes his way back to his chair. He lowers himself evenly onto the plush cushioned seat, back straight, knees spread. He sets his elbow on the armrest and with his chin resting on his palm, he slips the fingers that had just been inside of you into the hot cavern of his mouth. His free hand settles over the bulge in his trousers, stoking at his hardened length through the material.

You feel Bucky’s hands clasp your arms just beneath your shoulders. That’s the only warning you get before he completely hoists your body up onto the mattress. You laugh in giddy arousal at his display of strength. After only one orgasm, you’re already drunk on pleasure. You turn your body to face his and are pleasantly surprised to see that he’s already shed his clothing. He must have disrobed while Steve was having his way with you.

You crawl into his lap settling quite comfortably over his thick thighs. A wide grin stretches your lips as your arms circle loosely around his neck. “Hello, Dearest,” you greet, nudging your nose playfully against his.

His eyes sparkle in amusement. “Did I not say that I would have you again tonight?” he grins in triumph, arms curling around you with his hands splayed across your back.

You run your fingers slowly over the stubble along his jawline. “I do believe the real question here is how will you have me, Commander Barnes?” You rock your hips forward, pressing your wet heat against the hardened length that rests between your thighs.

His hands fall to your ass giving each globe a generous squeeze. “I will have you screaming out my name until the entire castle knows who it is that brings you such pleasure.”

“My, aren’t we confident?” you laugh sensually.

With strong arms keeping your body pinned to his chest, he begins to lower you down onto your back, stretched out horizontally across the foot of the bed to ensure that Steve still has the best view. “I will have you quivering on my cock and begging for more.” He settles himself over you, dark strands tickling your cheeks as they fall in a curtain around your face. “I will have you balanced on the edge of ecstasy, pleading for a taste of sweet relief, but unable to claim it until your Commander allows it.”

He grinds his erection against your folds, coating himself in your slick. He continues to hold your gaze as he balances on one bent arm to reach down and align his bulbous head with your entrance. A gentle nudge is all it takes before be he starts to sink into you.

“God in heaven…” his shaky breath fans over your cheeks. “You really haven’t been stretched in a while,” he grunts at the way you squeeze around him. He keeps his pace slow, moving only an inch at a time. “She won’t be taking us together any time soon,” he sends a smirk over his shoulder to Steve.

The king sends back a dark smile, his fingers falling from his mouth and tracing wet trails over his lips. “We can work her back up to it.”

Both his response and the feeling of the cock stretching you out cause a needy whimper to fall from your lips.

When he is finally sheathed, Bucky guides your legs up around his waist. He grinds into you with slow circles, allowing your body to adjust to being stretched around his girth. He peppers your face and neck with sweet kisses. “I have longed for our reunion from the moment you rode passed the castle gates. Four months is far too long to be without you, my love,” he declares, rubbing his nose against yours. “You are correct in stating that the memory of our lovemaking is nothing in comparison to our actual joining. Nothing on this earth can compare to the feeling of being inside you.”

He pulls out about halfway before slowly easing back in, testing the limits of your body. However, there is no resistance and no sign of discomfort on your face, just complete adoration and love for the man above you. His lips slant over yours as he begins to quicken his pace, so that he may taste your pleasured moans on his tongue.

He slams into you with feverish intent, driven by the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your nails dig into the muscles on his back and your hips rise to his every thrust. There are some nights when you attempt to fight him for dominance, but tonight you are supple and pliant beneath him. Like iron burning red hot from the flames of a forge, yet malleable and ready to be formed into something new. He can bend and mold you into any shape. Pound you down and smooth you over. He’d work his hands to the bone until you were absolutely perfect.

Your moans taste like heaven against his lips. He pulls his mouth back so that he might hear them ring like bells around the room. You gasp for breath and inhale the heady scent of raw sex. Your head falls to the side, eyes a little bleary as they land on your king.

His bare chest glistens in the firelight with a thin sheen of sweat; his shirt discarded to the floor. His trousers have been unbuttoned and shoved down just enough to free his straining cock. He strokes his length with deliberate slowness and watches the sight before him with rapt interest.

Bucky takes the opportunity of your turned head to sink his teeth into your exposed neck. You cry out as pain mixes with pleasure, eyes falling shut and back arching into him. An arm slips between your bowed back and the mattress, locking you in place against him. He sucks on the fresh bite and laps at it with a wet tongue. You shiver within his hold.

When your eyes blink back open and the haze in your vision has cleared, you realize that the chair is now empty.

A small frown of confusion pulls at your lips before you hear the voice come from behind you. “Bring her to the edge.”

A flood of arousal nearly makes Bucky slip out of you at the sound of Steve’s voice. You tilt your head back as far as you can against the mattress. Even upside-down, he’s an absolute vision. He stands naked at the side of the bed, one knee propped up on the mattress, a hand still stroking his cock. It’s enough to make your mouth water.

Bucky uses the power of his hips to thrust your body over the sheets of the bed and to the edge where Steve waits. You are guided into place with your head just hanging over the edge. Your hands quickly reach up to replace Steve’s grip with your own.

You hear Bucky’s low laughter, “Look how eager she is.” He holds himself still, buried to the hilt inside you.

“See? There’s still a way for her to take us both,” Steve grins back.

His hands cradle the sides of your face, palms to your cheeks, and fingers curling over the edge of your jaw. His thumbs slide to the ends of your mouth before pulling back your plump lower lip guiding your mouth open. Your hands bring the fat head of his cock in closer until the salty taste of his pre-cum hits your tongue.

You moan your appreciation, lapping at the slit for more. Steve shudders at the sensation of your tongue against him. Your jaw opens as wide as it can go as you begin to work him deeper into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he huffs, thumbs stroking your jawline encouragingly.

With your head back and your neck stretched, it opens your throat and makes it easier to take his length deeper. You swallow around the head of his cock and use your grip on his base to encourage him to keep going. Both men watch in highly aroused fascination as your neck expands around the intrusion of Steve’s cock down your throat.

You take him all the way, tightening your throat around him and ignoring the tears in your eyes that are welling up from taking him so deep. Steve forces himself to remain still and resists the instinct to rut into your sensitive throat. But god, the way it tightens around him is driving him insane. After a few seconds pass, he pulls himself back to give you room to breathe.

You swallow the excess saliva in your mouth and take a few panting breaths before urging Steve’s cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It’s easier to take him the second time. By the third round, Bucky has begun a gentle series of thrusts, his own cock twitching from inside you.

Both men find a rhythm that works for them without making you too uncomfortable. They work at you from both ends, using your body to fulfill their own needs. Bucky’s thrusts make your throat jolt around Steve’s cock and the abuse of your throat makes you clench around Bucky’s. They take their pleasure from you and you are more than happy to give it to them.

When it starts to become a bit too much for you to handle, a squeeze at Steve’s hip is all that is required to have him pulling back. “Are you okay?” he asks, curling a hand to the back of your head to lift it up and meet your gaze.

“A little dizzy,” you admit, your voice coming out hoarse.

Steve immediately moves to help you sit up while Bucky pulls out of you to do the same. You’re instantly sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies; Bucky holding you to his chest while Steve molds his to your back. It makes your heart leap at how quickly they can switch from seeking their own pleasure to ensuring your comfort and well-being. You know that your love for them would never have run this deep if they weren’t such caring individuals.

“Sorry I couldn’t-” you try to begin an apology but are gently shushed before you can finish.

Steve’s hand cradles your face and turns it toward him. “You did well, my love,” he assures you. Another reason to love him. There’s no disappointment or resentment that you weren’t able to take him until completion, just gentle understanding and tender affection. He places a chaste kiss to your spit-soaked lips.

When he pulls back, Bucky guides your face to his until your foreheads touch. “If you are feeling unwell, let us know and we will stop now.” You know without a doubt that the two of them would abandon their arousal in an instant if you told them you couldn’t proceed.

You give him a fond smile. “I am alright,” you assure him. “And I will not rest until both my lovers are fully sated and satisfied.”

Steve releases a low chuckle, lips pressed to the hair above your temple. “You may be in for a long night then.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you grin cheekily. With one hand, you reach for Steve’s hold at your waist. You pull his touch across your stomach until his arm is banded around your torso. Your other hand trails down Bucky’s Adonis belt to curl around the base of his shaft. His nostrils flare and his jaw ticks as you give him a long stroke. “Now, where were we?” you ask breathlessly.

His hands grip the back of your thighs as you rise onto your knees and align him with your entrance. Your body welcomes the now-familiar stretch as you sink down onto him. He grunts low through gritted teeth as he is enveloped back in your wet heat. He’d been close before stopping to come to your aid. Very close. The denied climax has made him overly sensitive. It sits just below the surface of his skin and sends tiny pricks of pleasure up his spine.

Steve pushes in tight against your back, molding every inch of bare flesh to yours. As you circle your hips around Bucky’s cock, you can feel that Steve’s is slotted between the globes of your ass, pressed to his lower abdomen. He grinds hard and slow against the cleft of your cheeks. His heavy breath on the back of your neck makes you shiver.

Bucky leans forward to mash his lips against yours and uses his powerful thighs to start thrusting up into you. The kiss is sloppy and wet. You’re sure that he must taste the remnants of Steve’s cock on your tongue, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he may even like it. The wet slap of sweaty skin fills the room, overpowering the crackle of the fire in the hearth.

Every bounce on Bucky’s cock makes your ass jolt around Steve’s. Their balls slam into each other’s with a steady thwack and muscular thighs brush side by side beneath you. Bucky’s hands slide up your thighs and grab your ass in a bruising grip. He spreads your ass cheeks, making more room for Steve’s thick cock between them.

Steve’s hands glide up your rib cage and settle over your breasts. He molds them in his large hands and tweaks your nipples until they have grown stiff and over sensitive. Your mouth rips away from Bucky’s as you cry out to the heavens and throw your head back against Steve’s shoulder. You are being worked at from all angles by the two men you love most in the world. It’s pleasure beyond words. Beyond imagination, even.

Bucky uses his grip on your ass to change the angle of your hips just enough to ensure your clit catches against his pubic bone every time he slams home inside you. Your moans are getting louder and higher in pitch. Which is a good sign, because he is seconds away from bursting.

“Oh Bucky!” he hits you deep and grinds against your sensitized clit. The scent of sex is so thick it starts to make you dizzy all over again. Your thighs are shaking from barely restrained release. Every muscle in your body is pulled taut. Your arousal flows out of you in such abundance, it not only soaks Bucky’s cock, but also catches against the underbelly of Steve’s and also flows down their balls.

Your pleasured cries drive them both mad with desire. The heat that comes off their bodies traps you in an inferno. You have one arm tossed back to grip Steve’s neck; the other is thrown over Bucky’s shoulders. You draw them both in impossibly closer, allowing the perspiration on your skins to fuse you together into one being.

Animalistic instinct and carnal desire take over as lovemaking transitions to brutal fucking. Like the collapse of a log consumed by flames inside the hearth, there is a flare-up of energy. The control in both men is ripped to shreds as they rut against you like wolves in heat.

Each thrust is punctuated by their feral grunts and erotic moans. Their panting breaths send scattering waves across your feverish skin, providing only temporary relief from the savage heat that consumes you. Their muscles grow tense, balls pulled in tight, hands leaving bruises from their fierce grip on your body.

With your head thrown back, you cry out their names to the heavens above, alerting whatever God may be listening just who it is exactly that controls your pleasure. Your body begins to shake, hips jerking and breasts heaving as you hit your peak. Your walls clamp tight around Bucky and the muscles in your glutes clench as well.

“Oh fuck!” Bucky cries out before one last thrust results in his euphoric release. His body shudders and he buries his face into your neck as he spills into you.

From behind, Steve continues to rut against you. Once, twice… After the third, he releases a low grunt from deep within his chest, and then there is a hot splash against your lower back.

The three of you hold each other through your shared release; trembling from the aftershocks; covered in sweat, slick, and thick white cum. Some might call it debauched or hedonistic, but all you feel is the unbreakable threads of love that bind you to these two men. The moments where the three of you are able to bask together in your indulgence always seem to last an eternity. You feed off each other and reach new heights that had previously seemed impossible to grasp.

And when you’re ready to finally come back down to earth, it’s the embrace of each other’s arms that you return to. Bucky is nuzzling the hollow of your throat and Steve has his lips pressed to your temple. “I love you,” your voice comes out a little broken and raw. All the screaming certainly wouldn’t have helped after the way you took Steve’s cock.

Speaking of that, “Steve, you…” You hadn’t expected him to finish when he had.

“I know,” he soothes, thumbs gently tracing circles around your areolas, easing some of the aches in your breasts from his unrestrained hold earlier. “It has been a long four months for us as well. I hadn’t realized that I wouldn’t be able to stave off my release until it was too late.” His gentle hands release your breasts so that his arms can tighten around your torso. “No matter. Now that you are home, there will be plenty of time for me to refamiliarize myself with your body,” he pledges to you.

“Only if you are not pulled into council for hours on end,” your lips tug down into a pout.

He turns your face toward him with a touch to your jaw and kisses the pout from your lips. “You know that I will always make time for you. I love you, too,” he promises with one last kiss before guiding you into Bucky’s hold so that he can shift off the bed. Steve pads across the room, in all his naked glory, to a side table where a basin of water and a folded cloth lie in wait.

You are pulled from your observations when Bucky falls unceremoniously onto his back against the mattress, taking you with him. You land in a giggling heap against his chest. There’s a smug grin on his face and a satisfied flush to his cheeks. You fold your hands against his chest and rest your chin on top, continuing to hold his gaze.

You can hear the water getting rung out from the washcloth moments before the bed dips beneath Steve’s returning weight. The wet cloth is pressed to the base of your spine, eliciting a full-body shiver from you.

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes, “The water was warm earlier.”

“No, it feels good,” you assure him. The cool cloth is like a taste of heaven against your hot skin.

He cleans the mess of his release from you, wiping the evidence from your back and the curve of your ass. When he’s finished, Bucky rolls your relaxed form onto your back and takes the cloth into his own hands. His flaccid cock slips from between your legs. He’s quick to press the cloth against you to collect his own release as it leaks from between your slick folds. He uses gentle strokes against your sensitive channel, treating you with delicate care and sweet caresses.

After they have both made sure that you are comfortable and taken care of, they then clean themselves up before the three of you move to lay beneath the covers of the massive bed. You recline back, propped up slightly on a mountain of pillows. Steve lays to your left, cheek pressed to your shoulder while his fingers brush gentle patterns across your bare torso. He paints masterpieces across the dips and valleys of your breasts and stomach using just the touch of his fingertips.

Bucky is stretched out to your right. He is turned onto his side, with a bent elbow against the pillows, propping his head up to allow him to look down at you. His crystal blue gaze sweeps over every feature of your face. Once he has completed the path, he begins it all over again.

You do the same with him, a content smile tilting your kiss swollen lips. You lift your hand and run the back of your index finger along his jawline. “You are the most handsome knight in all the lands,” you mutter quietly, not wanting to disturb the tranquility that has settled over you. He releases a scoffing laugh with a sharp exhale through his nose, lips twitching in amusement. The smile on your own lips only grows. “Now that I am so well-traveled, I can say that with full confidence.”

Words that were meant to tease instead place a contemplative look on his face. You arch a curious brow as you wait for him to finish his thought and speak his mind. “If you had met someone else on your travels, you would tell us, wouldn’t you?” he finally asks.

Your head tilts in confusion. “I don’t believe I know what you mean…”

“Buck.” The stern tone of Steve’s voice sets you immediately on edge. Nothing ever good comes when he uses that tone of authority with either of you.

You turn your gaze quickly and catch the disapproving look in Steve’s gaze before he has the chance to school his features. “What does he mean?” you ask your blonde lover directly.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait until morning,” he attempts to appease you. When he sees the set of your jaw, he knows immediately that he has said the wrong thing.

You pushing yourself up to sit straight and square your shoulders. “I think I should like to hear it now.”

Steve releases a long sigh and runs his fingers through his unruly strands, sitting up as well. “Letters have been coming in at a constant rate from the other kingdoms over the last few months,” he begins.

“Letters addressed to you,” Bucky supplies next.

You give them both an expectant look, still not understanding the full picture.

“It would seem that in your journey, you left a string of yearning hearts in your wake,” Steve continues. “The letters are from various suitors asking for your hand in marriage.”

You stare at the two of them in blatant shock, eyes sweeping back and forth between their solemn gazes. “And you both thought that meant that I had met someone new…?” You can’t really help yourself when the laugh works its way out of your chest. It starts as a single burst, but quickly turns loud and boisterous until you manage to slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself restrained. “I’m sorry,” you giggle from between your fingers. You clear your throat and swallow the last of your amusement, noting the severity in your lovers’ eyes. “I can assure you that there is no one else. Those letters are only coming from a line of fools who wish to conquer the Black Rose of Brooklyn. They see me as a prize to be won. A trophy after completing their conquest. Nothing more.”

You reach out and take their hands into each of yours. “I know that the love we share is far from conventional, but I promise that my heart only belongs to the two of you. There is no space for anyone else. You will be my only loves for all of eternity.” You bring their hands up to your face and place a gentle kiss on their knuckles. They both give a light squeeze to your hands in return. “Is this why you have both been in such foul moods during my departure? We have spent time away from each other before, but I have been informed that you were both particularly brutish these last few months.”

They both share a chastened look.

“Oh, my loves,” you sigh softly, that look of theirs speaking volumes. You tug at their hands until the three of you are settled back under the covers and are thoroughly wrapped around each other. “Rest well, knowing that I am back home in your arms. That I belong to no other and my heart beats only for you. And when morning comes, you will apologize to the others for your abhorrent behavior.”

The two men share a look, eyes shining and lips tilting.

“Do you believe it wise to order your King and your Commander in such a way?” Steve’s arms tighten their hold around you as he lands a playful nip to the back of your shoulder.

You giggle joyfully. “I have gotten away with it before and I’m certain that I will again.”

“I think a lesson in respect may be in order, my King,” Bucky smirks wide.

“Oh, most assuredly,” Steve agrees.

A shriek of laughter escapes from your mouth as both of your lovers descend upon you. Looks like you’re in for a long night after all…

#steve x reader x bucky #stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #king!steve x reader #knight!bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #sam writes

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salazarslytherin · 3 years

Text

dance lessons (j.p x gn!y/n)

requested: yes! by @riddikulusweasleys

🃛 masterlist!

summary: james teaches you how to dance

cw/tw: nothing, fluff is all, genderneutral!reader!!!

word count: 1.5k

a/n: short and sweet james fluff <3 hope you like it love! reblog to boost xxx

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

"So Y/N, who are you going to the ball with?"

Suddenly, all eyes were on you, the vivid conversation that had fogged the large table vanishing as you stared at Sirius like a deer in headlights. Froth covered your top lip from the mug of butterbeer you'd been sipping on, and you quickly wiped it away on your sleeve, blinking and stuttering slightly as you tried to answer the question.

"Um, no one."

Mutters of confusion sounded around the round table, a few other students in the Three Broomsticks whispering to each other as they caught wind of your words.

"What? Did nobody ask you to-"

Marlene delivered a quick slap to Dorcas's shoulder, widening her eyes as a quick sign of 'shut up' before turning back and smiling at you, a reassuring look in her eyes.

"It's okay Y/N, there's still time before the ball."

You shook your head at your friends, biting your lip to prevent a laugh from bubbling out of your mouth.

"No, no, no. It's not that, I just don't really feel like going to the ball."

A series of gasps sounded around the table – your friends were quite the drama kings and queens indeed.

"It's not that big of a deal! Relax."

Protests of "of course it's a big deal!" came around, but you quickly cut them off, wanting nothing more than to just move on from the conversation.

"Who wants another round of butterbeer? I'm buying!"

⚔︎.

"So, Y/N."

It was three days later now, you and James were sat in the library working on a transfiguration essay that was due the day after. Leafing through a reference book, you hummed lightly at James, a gesture for him to continue.

"Why aren't you going to the Yule Ball?"

Letting out a groan, your head fell to the table, knocking against the book.

"Can we not talk about that? Sirius literally bugged me about it all of potions."

Twirling his quill in his hand, James quirked an eyebrow at you, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

"Yeah, but unlike them, I know that you were asked. I was there when you were asked. By like, four different people. Why didn't you just agree to one of them and go?"

Letting out a deep sigh, your head turned to face the boy, tucking your hands under your legs as you sat on them, sheepish as you stared at him.

"Okay I can tell you. Just, don't laugh or whatever."

The boy nodded at you, his brows furrowed in uncertainty as he watched you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. Gnawing on the flesh, your eyes fluttered between his, dropping down for a second before exhaling:

"I don't know how to dance."

⚔︎.

That's how you ended up in the Room of Requirement, staring at your shoes while James fiddled with a charmed record player, putting on some old classical song that you might have heard somewhere in passing.

"Alright, are you ready?"

You looked up at James, pursing your lips in a semi pout.

"James I swear I've got two left feet or something, s'not gonna work out very well."

The boy rolled his eyes, straightening his back in true Pureblood fashion as he looked down at you.

"Please. I've had dance lessons since I was four. I can teach you to dance anything."

Stretching his arms out towards you, James raised his eyebrows, gesturing for you to move towards him.

"Come on, I'll lead."

⚔︎.

"Left, two, three."

"Shit!"

James's foot snapped away from under yours, the two of you stumbling as his arm wrapped tighter around your waist. Holding you closer to him, the pair of you fell down to the ground, you landing on top of him.

Your chests were pressed together, your lips ghosting his for a moment as your eyes refocused on James's. Your face was dangerously close to the bespectacled boy's, your breath fogging his glasses slightly. Noticing your distance, you scrambled to get up, brushing yourself off as you stood up. "Sorry James! Fuck, told you I can't dance." The boy laid on the ground for a few more seconds, his eyes blinking in a mist of mild confusion before he stood up as well, clearing his throat awkwardly. "That wasn't too bad. It's literally your first attempt, don't get so distraught over one mishap."

You raised your eyebrows at the boy.

"Really. One mishap. Sure, that's the first time we fell on the ground, but it's like the tenth time I've stepped on your foot."

The seeker rolled his eyes at you, stepping closer to wrap his arm around your waist again as the music automatically looped on the player. He took your hand in his larger one, extending your arms towards the door before stepping backwards.

"Yeah, well, mistakes happen Y/N. This doesn't mean that you can't dance. You're literally learning. It takes time. Not just three hours in this room."

You sighed as you stepped to the side, instinctively responding to James's movements as the two of you waltzed in time to the music.

"Do you really not want to go to the ball?"

You rolled your eyes as your feet glided over the wooden floor, James's hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you into a heel turn, shoes clicking on the smooth maple.

"I-, I don't know."

Your arm was lifted over your head as James twirled you gently, your arm extending as your left foot stepped out sideways, your intertwined hands extending as your free arms stretched outwards, before turning back in to clasp each other gently once more.

"Come on Y/N, it'll be fun."

As if to emphasize his point, James twirled you outwards, the tenacity with which he did so making you laugh as your hand flew out instinctively. Laughing alongside you, James pulled you back in, your body whirling closer towards his in a laugh.

The laugh was cut off as the momentum made you stumble, James letting go of your hand to catch you, fingers interlocking as he wrapped his arms around your waist fully. Eyes squeezing shut in fear of falling, only to find your chest pressed against James's as he pulled you in.

One eye opened as you looked up at the bespectacled boy, the other quickly following it as you watched James, his eyes darting down to glance at your lips before looking back into your eyes.

Your chests rose and fell in unison, as the seconds ticked on you became acutely aware of the fact that his grip hadn't loosened, hands wrapped around your waist, eyes boring into yours.

"Um-"

"Y/N-"

Your mouths opened in unison, smiling as both of you stopped simultaneously.

"You go."

James nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he furrowed his brows in a bout of uncertainty.

"Do you, wanna go to the ball with me?"

A smile blossomed on your face.

"Don't you have a date?"

James looked up awkwardly, his arms stiffening around you but still not quite letting go.

"Um, I might have... been waiting to ask someone."

The corner of your lip curled upwards as you looked up at the boy.

"Oh yeah? But what if that someone still doesn't want to go?"

James's arms pulled you closer – somehow it was still possible. Your chest fully pressed against his, the prominent smell of broom polish and mint dancing into your olfactory senses.

"I thought I might've persuaded them. They'll have a fantastic dance partner too so they won't have to worry."

Your eyebrows shot up in amusement.

"But... What if they still need some persuasion?"

It was now James's turn to smile, the sides of his mouth turning up as his eyes darted down to your lips once more.

"Would a kiss persuade them, you think?"

"Maybe-"

Before the word had left your mouth properly, James had caught your lips in a kiss, melding your mouths together as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands finally left your waist, trailing up your sides to cup your chin. Your hand moved to hold him by the nape of his neck, memorising each and every crevice of his lips.

After a fleeting moment that seemed to last forever, the two of you fell apart, chests heaving as your hands left each other for the first time in minutes, the ghost of James's hands on your waist haunting you.

"So, are they convinced?"

A soft chuckle left you, pressing your lips together in a moment of shyness, cocking the edge of your mouth upwards.

"Hmm. I think they are. So, shall we practice more? So that somebody won't be too embarrassed on the dance floor?"

James held his hands out, tilting his head to the side as he smirked at you.

"Of course. But it's your turn to lead now."

Your mouth fell open, staring at the boy, bemused.

"What?"

James barked out a laugh, ruffling his hair slightly as you just watched him.

"You don't expect me to lead all night, do you?"

tag list: @tvinny, @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @smellslikebadmusic, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449,@iamnibbsi, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterslover,@remoony1,@siriusblackwifeeey, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @themoonwithprophets,@marimorena06, @risingtripletaurus, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts,@i-love-scott-mccall,@jeannelupinblack, @justadreamyhufflepuff if you’re crossed out i can’t tag you for some reason, please try to check if your tagging is on!

#mine #writing #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #hp fluff #hp imagine

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

#Jily #Part 1 #Of 3?#Honestly I just wanted to give you guys a treat

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Last week I watched the first episode of Mythic Quest and (*whispers*) I didn’t think it was funny? It reminded me too much of the feeling of having a coworker who knows he’s annoying but finds it amusing, multiplied by the entire workforce. I also watched the first episode of Avenue 5 and found it unamusing for basically the same reasons.

But really, my problem isn’t with these shows; my problem is that I’ve watched a bunch of television full of the SOARING FEELINGS OF QUEER INTIMACY AND FOUND FAMILY and now that’s basically a requirement for feeling engaged with something I watch? Doesn’t matter the genre, I just need it to do its thing well while exploding the concept of intimacy in an absolutely pitch-perfect way for each character, giving them little glimpses of what they just might need until they can’t imagine living without the experience of knowing and being known!

And now I can’t pay attention to what I’m watching unless it includes...

Grace and Frankie pining for each other and only halfway articulating it to the point that I’m yelling WHAT THE FUCK at the screen like they’re gonna hear me

Ted and Rebecca hugging each other outside the gala, then snapping out of it to turn down a ride from a rickshaw driver who Jason Sudeikis later described as an ANGEL offering to take away the king and queen

Medium-term miserable (but motivated in a Gen Z way!) Ava Daniels and long-term miserable (but in a misery-rejecting Boomer way!) Deborah Vance realizing they are nothing short of creative soulmates who are literally brought to tears by the realization the other thinks she’s funny

The dramatic irony of Ana not remembering she kissed Mariana when she was on drugs at the club because they live in a beautiful soap opera

The Derry girls making it very clear to James that he is, in fact, a Derry girl

Eve Polastri only being able to imagine Villanelle when she tries to conceive of a future for herself

Basically every single thing that happens to Áine and Shona and their friends and family in every frame of the show and probably all the stuff that ended up on the cutting room floor, too

Doctor Manhattan entering Angela’s timeline in Vietnam

Fleabag staring into the camera

So as you can see it’s extremely easy to keep me compelled and invested! Just be excellent, unique, hilarious, and full of subtle parallels and transcendent moments of human connection!

(Also, if you made it through this post and you have your own bulleted list of things that make you feel the way my bulleted list makes me feel, you should totally leave me recommendations in the comments.)

#i am so sorry but i am going to tag the shows in this post #(except for the ones i don't like so far)#i haven't bothered to make personal tags for most shows #*grimace*#grace and frankie #ted lasso #a lesbian watches ted lasso #hacks (hbo)#madre solo hay dos #derry girls #killing eve #this way up #watchmen #fleabag #more emotions than livejournal doc com #about me #queer things

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Civil War (Chapter Four)

Summary: In the aftermath of the U.N. bombing, (Y/N) receives a call from Steve and is ‘invited’ to the Joint Counter Terrorism Centre in Berlin for questioning.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I’m not too sure about this chapter, it’s all over the place and I’ve rewritten it twice so I can’t tell if it’s good or not lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

While the paramedics finished fastening the bandage around her head, (Y/N) sat in the back of the ambulance and silently watched the chaos unfolding. A fire crew was busy hosing down the still-smoldering ruins and a medical helicopter flew overhead as different government agencies began setting up their base camps on the outskirts of the caution tape. The CIA agent who’d questioned her about the incident had informed her that a large-scale bomb had gone off next to their building, injuring over seventy people and killing twelve; she’d gone on to explain to her that if not for T’Challa’s last-minute warning, many more people would’ve perished in the blast.

Poor T’Challa, (Y/N) thought to herself with a pang of sadness. His father, King T’Chaka, had been the closest person to the blast and was killed instantly. The paramedics completed their work and she thanked them before quickly getting out of their way, knowing that there were many others who still needed to be helped. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her ash-covered blazer, she walked along the edge of the crime scene towards where she’d last seen Natasha and T’Challa; different international news reporters were documenting the tragedy and as she passed by one of them, their words almost made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous Hydra agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations…”

(Y/N) continued walking, afraid that she’d be recognized if she lingered too long, and finally sat down on an empty bench near the CIA’s base camp. Once she got over the initial shock of learning the suspected identity of the bomber, she couldn’t help but feel confused; Bucky had been on the run for over two years, ever since the Battle at the Triskellion and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., and there hadn’t been any sign of him since. Steve and Sam had tracked down every single lead they could find but to no avail. To her, it didn’t make much sense that after all that time, the wanted man would suddenly decide to do something as massive as bomb the United Nations.

The buzzing of her cell phone in her pocket jolted her out of her thoughts; pulling it out and glancing down at the screen, her eyes widened in recognition and she was quick to answer it. “Hello?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Um…yeah, a little. My right eardrum ruptured from the noise of the blast and my lungs feel like crap, but other than that I’m okay…” She trailed off, listening as Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief. Try as she might, memories of their recent fight came to mind but she forced aside her irritation with him as she continued. “Listen Steve, I just heard about Bucky and I-”

“You’re gonna tell me the same thing Nat did: to leave it up to the Task Force and stay home.”

She blinked, taken aback by the shortness of his tone. “Well, I think she has a point about staying out of it but what I was actually going to say is that-”

“I’m the only one who can bring him in alive, (Y/N), so that’s what I’m gonna do. I just wanted to call and tell you myself so that you didn’t believe I was hiding things from you.” Steve abruptly interrupted and after a moment of tense silence, the hard edge in his voice softened a little. “Look, I’m…take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay? Don’t forget to change that bandage of yours every few hours.”

The call disconnected as (Y/N)’s head snapped up in shock and she hurriedly scanned her surroundings, but the super-soldier was nowhere to be seen. “Bastard.”

“(Y/N)!” She looked over in time to see Natasha striding over to her, her brow furrowed in worry. “(Y/N), I just got a call from Steve a few minutes ago, and-” The spy stopped herself short as she examined her assumedly-angered expression. “I take it you got one, too.”

“Yep, and I’d rather not discuss it right now if that’s okay.”

Natasha nodded. “Fine by me, hot-shot, but we should be going; our presence has been…um, requested in Berlin. At the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, to be precise.”

Frowning, (Y/N) stood and walked alongside her. “Our? What’s all this got to do with me?” The spy gave her a pointed look and she exhaled through her nose. “Ah, yes, my ‘association’ with Steve Rogers. They’ve guessed that he’d be the first one after Bucky and since I’m his fiancé, they want to hold me for questioning.”

“Pretty much…but there’s another reason that I’ll let Tony tell you about himself when we arrive. It was his bad idea, after all.”

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

By that point, (Y/N) was well and truly sick of flying; they’d taken the Quinjet to the Berlin-Tegel Airport, where a car had picked them up and drove them to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. If her head hadn’t hurt so much and she were in a better mood, she would’ve taken the time to admire all the historical landmarks they passed by. And here I thought that week we spent dealing with Ultron was exhausting, she thought with a humorless smile, getting out of the car and walking alongside Natasha as they entered the parking garage’s elevator.

“When you’re questioned by an agent, be sure to answer as honestly as possible.” (Y/N) glanced up from her dirty sneakers and met Natasha’s serious expression. “Cooperation’s the only thing that’s gonna help Steve and Sam out right now, (Y/N). Don’t let the agent get inside your head, though; make sure that you’re the one in control of the situation, just like I’ve taught you. If I know them like I think I do, they’re gonna try and get more valuable intel out of you than just Steve’s whereabouts.”

She nodded after a brief moment of hesitation and the spy’s shoulders relaxed a little. The elevator stopped at the top floor and its doors slid open to reveal two men; one was Tony Stark, dressed stylishly in a dark-grey suit with a tense smile on his face and the other was an older man with salt-and-pepper colored hair that she didn’t recognize. The stranger stepped forward and shook Natasha’s outstretched hand. “Miss Romanoff, thank you for coming in so quickly.”

“Of course,” Natasha replied before glancing over at (Y/N). “(Y/N), this is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander of the CIA. Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Agent Ross smiled and shook her hand, but (Y/N) got the distinct feeling that he was studying her expression and analyzing her behaviors. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, Miss (Y/L/N); my niece and nephew are big fans of your novel.”

(Y/N) murmured her thanks and followed the trio as they walked down a covered sky-way, not noticing that Tony had fallen into step beside her until he quietly asked, “How’re you holdin’ up, Austen?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve had better days.” She remarked, glancing over at the billionaire with a raised brow. “Nat mentioned something about a bad idea you wanted to run by me?”

“Oh, I have a couple of ‘em, but I’ll let you get changed before I go ahead and tell you. When I heard about the bombing, I figured that you and Romanoff would need clothes so I packed some before I left the compound.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, (Y/N) allowed him to lead her to a private bathroom and quickly changed out of her soot-covered clothing; she felt a little bit like her usual self as she emerged from the bathroom, but the comforting feeling her change of clothes had inspired soon disappeared when the billionaire ushered her into a glass-walled conference room in the middle of what she imagined was a control room.

“Sorry if it seems like we’re sitting inside a fish bowl but this is the only place where we can talk without being overheard.” Tony sat down across from her at the long table, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’m sorry about the civilian consultant thing, Austen. We all found out about it last night when Secretary Ross called to ask who’d decided to sign; he seemed crankier than usual when we told him that we didn’t know what you’d decided to do.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and leaned her elbow onto the table, resting her head in her hand with an exasperated sigh. “What, does Ross think that if I sign then that’ll make Steve suddenly change his mind and decide to sign too?”

“Pretty much…but truth be told, he’s not the only one.” Her brow rose in surprise as Tony sat forward in his chair, an uncharacteristically subdued expression on his face. “Look, (Y/N), none of us wants to see Rogers gone. The team needs him and we both know how much he needs the team, so…I was hoping that if you signed, you’d be able to convince him that he’d be doing the right thing by signing too. Once Rogers signs them, then Wilson and Maximoff should follow suit and we’d have our Earth’s Mightiest Heroes all back together again in no time. What do you think?”

“You make it sound so easy…and I wish it was, Tony. I really do.” She stood and walked over to the glass wall, her eyes trained on a large computer monitor that bore her fiancé’s photograph on a wanted poster. “But you and I also know that once Steve’s made up his mind about something it’s impossible to change it. I tried telling him that refusing to sign might put our future together in jeopardy, and do you know what he said?” Turning back around, she met the billionaire’s gaze and mirthlessly smiled. “He said that he couldn’t afford to be selfish and he left it at that.” A lump formed in her throat as she blinked away her tears and shrugged. “He respects the hell out of you, Tony, so maybe you’ll have a better change at convincing him. I’ll be there when you do, but…since I haven’t decided what I’ll do yet, I honestly don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

Just as Tony opened his mouth to reply, the glass door of the conference room slid open and none other than Sharon Carter poked her head into the room. “If you’re ready, Agent Ross would like to ask you some questions.” (Y/N) stood and spared Tony a final glance before following the agent down the hall, pointedly ignoring the jealous pang in the pit of her stomach as she did. “Romanoff mentioned that you weren’t much of a coffee drinker, so I brought you some hot chocolate instead.” She looked over to see Sharon holding out a to-go cup out towards her, a hesitant but friendly sort of smile on her face. “Might help settle your nerves before your talk with Ross.”

She accepted the beverage with a murmur of thanks and took a sip as they continued down the hall; giving the agent a sideways glance, she cleared her throat before saying, “I’m sorry about your aunt, Sharon.”

“Thank you…and thank you for everything you said in your eulogy. Actually,” Sharon stopped beside the stairwell door and gestured towards it. “We don’t have much time, but do you mind if we talk for a quick sec?” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed a little but she nodded and followed her into the stairwell, watching as she leaned back against the wall and shuffled her feet. “You meant a lot to Aunt Peggy, (Y/N), but I don’t think you know just how much she appreciated you. Back before her dementia got worse, she’d call me after her visits with Rogers and we’d talk for hours; she worried about him, always telling me that he was deliberately keeping himself from embracing his new life and that there wasn’t anything she could do to help. But then you came into his life and from what she told me, it was a night and day difference; knowing that you were there for Steve, as a friend and then as something more, gave her piece of mind. She really liked you, (Y/N), and she really respected you. I just thought that you should know that.”

“Thank you, Sharon, that…that really means a lot to me.”

The agent nodded, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. “I would’ve told you all that after the funeral but you and Steve were sort of…well, you know…arguing. I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, it’s just that you both were kind of loud and the cathedral has crazy-good acoustics.” (Y/N) started to reply but Sharon cut her off with a firm head shake. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, (Y/N). I’m not exactly a fan of the Accords but just between us? I think that Steve was out of line back there.” Unsure of what to say, she nodded once and took another sip of her drink as the agent looked down at her wristwatch. “C’mon, we should get going before Ross starts looking for us.”

The two of them left the stairwell and continued down the hallway to an office; Agent Ross was seated at a desk and reading through a file, looking up from his work with a friendly smile. “Thank you, Agent 13, that’ll be all.” With one last glance, Sharon turned and left them alone. “Please, take a seat.” (Y/N) sat down in the chair across from him and crossed her leg over her knee, trying her best to remain cool and collected. “Miss (Y/L/N), we have reason to believe that Captain Rogers plans on interfering with the apprehending of the Winter Soldier; can you tell me when you last spoke to your fiancé?”

“A little over three hours ago in Vienna. He called to ask if I’d been injured during the bombing and then he warned me that he was planning on bringing in Bucky himself. That’s all he said.”

Ross nodded and gestured to the bandage wrapped around her head. “And are you okay?”

“Yes, it’s only a ruptured eardrum; the bandage is just keeping the ear from becoming infected.” (Y/N) shrugged, taking another sip of her drink before setting it down on the desk. “Truth be told, I’ve had worse.”

Nodding again, the agent picked up the open file on his desk and scanned its contents. “Yeah, it seems like you have. In March of 2014, you suffered a moderate-grade concussion, GSW on your left thigh and a severe muscle contusion on the other thigh; it also says here that you even needed an emergency blood transfusion upon arrival at the hospital.” He looked back up at her with an arched brow. “Sounds like a lot for a civilian to go through.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I-it was-”

“And according to witness statements from the Avengers, the Artificial Intelligence known as Ultron targeted you last year because of your close relationship with Steve Rogers, is that correct?” Nodding, she struggled to keep her expression neutral as her fingers began reflexively tracing along her old gunshot wound. “It looks like you were just a pawn in Ultron’s plan to break the Avengers apart, and it very nearly worked.”

Her first instinct was to snap at the agent but after recalling Natasha’s earlier warning, she swallowed her frustration and gave him a fleeting smile. “The CIA certainly cares a lot about historical fiction novelists, doesn’t it?”

Ross chuckled and leaned forward in his seat. “Only the ones engaged to rogue super-soldiers, of course. Speaking of super-soldiers, can you elaborate on the nature of your fiancé’s connection to James Barnes?”

“There’s nothing much to say that hasn’t already been said; Steve and Bucky were childhood friends who fought together during World War II and when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Steve and Sam tried searching for Bucky but they never found him.”

Nodding, the agent reached over and moved his computer monitor to face her; on the screen was a blurry image of a man wearing dark clothing, obviously taken from grainy security camera footage. “And is this James Barnes?”

“Yes, although I’ve only seen him in person once and this photo’s a little blurry.”

“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight: Steve’s old pal bombs the U.N. meeting that you, his fiancée, was attending and instead of rushing to your side like any other partner would do, he decides to leave the country to apprehend Barnes himself. Does that pretty much sum things up?” (Y/N)’s jaw clenched tightly and she stared silently at the agent in front of her, who tilted his head to the side as he considered her. “You see, the CIA knows that you and Captain Rogers are close but what we don’t know is how far you’d go to protect a man who doesn’t sound like he’s got your best interests at heart.”

Before (Y/N) could finally lose her temper, another agent poked his head into the office. “I’m sorry, Agent Ross, I know you said that you didn’t want to be disturbed but this is urgent.”

“Fine, fine…”

Ross stood and followed the agent out into the hallway, leaving the office door cracked open just far enough for her to make out some of what they were saying. “Rhodes…all of them arrested…Bucharest…ETA in less than six…”

Thank goodness they’re all right, (Y/N) thought as relief washed over her, they’ll both be charged with obstruction of justice but at least they’re alive. Some of her elation disappeared as her mind drifted back to Agent Ross’ line of questioning; Natasha was right, the CIA was taking the golden opportunity to get intel on Captain America with the knowledge that what they were doing was protected under the Sokovia Accords. The thought of being manipulated and used that way infuriated her but what angered her more was that this all stemmed from Steve’s unwillingness to consider the consequences of not signing the Accords. You’re in control here, she told herself with a calming breath, just do everything Nat told you to do and you’ll be okay…

Agent Ross reentered the office and sat back down with an expectant smile on his face. “Well, now, where were we?”

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

A/N: This story’s a little more challenging to write than The Winter Soldier or Age of Ultron, there’s so much angst to deal with and writing these chapters really takes a lot out of me, so any likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated ❤️

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, you guys are truly amazing! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=f5f309da80a74a63

Chapter Five

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @aesthethickks

#stumblin' in #civil war #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #natasha romanoff #black widow #sam wilson #falcon #tony stark #iron man #sharon carter #agent 13 #everett ross #agent ross #captain america civil war #marvel cinematic universe

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

home again

wordcount: 7.9k

warnings: brief smut moment, mentions of sexual content

________

Rafe double, triple-checked their plane tickets when they went back home from Rome. They’d bought them separately but somehow he was convinced he’d screwed it up again - when he reached for his phone a fourth time on the train to the airport, Sophie reached over and took it with a shake of her head.

After making it through security and buying two breakfast sandwiches for them, Rafe tucked his backpack under her feet. “Can you watch this for a second?”

“Yeah, where are you going?” Sophie asked curiously.

“I’ll be right back.” He answered vaguely, kissing her forehead. When he returned, he had an entire bag full of Italian snacks and candies, all indecipherable except for a small bag of dark chocolate M&Ms that he tossed at Sophie. Her face lit up as she caught it and realized. “Oh my god, I missed these.”

He grinned and slid into the seat next to her, dumping the snacks into his backpack. “I know you did. I figured we could try these on the plane, for some entertainment.”

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep.” She tore open the packet and poured some into her hand before offering it to him.

He accepted a few, but not too much more. “Good, you said we weren’t supposed to sleep. We’ll be all jetlagged.”

“But I’m tired.” She whined, dropping her head to his shoulder.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of her head, lowering his voice. “Maybe you shouldn’t have convinced me to sleep with you last night then. Until 3am.”

She blushed and shot him an indignant glare. “You started it in the shower.”

“You dropped to your knees in the shower first.” He smirked. “This is your fault.”

“Nothing is ever my fault.” She declared. “You’re just too hot, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” The airport called for boarding over the speakers and he hauled her up, pulling out their passports and walked with her to the line. He paused when she moved forward. “Wait, Sophie, aren’t we sitting together?”

“No, I’m 23A.”

“And I’m 23B - wait, no, shit, I’m not.” He frowned and glanced down at his ticket. “I’ll fix this.”

“Rafe, you don’t have to -”

Her argument fell on deaf ears as he went forward, glancing at people’s tickets. She held back a smile as he put on his best southern drawl and his most charming grin as he talked with the woman in 23B, convincing her eventually - with twenty dollars - to trade seats once they were on the plane. Once they boarded, he gave her a smug smile as he sat next to her, putting up the arm rest so she could lean into him.

“How much did you bribe her with?”

“Bribe? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never bribed anyone in my life.”

_____

The entire ride home, he didn’t sleep at all. Sophie fell asleep on him within minutes, curled into him comfortably, and he didn’t dare move and wake her up. When they made it back to Columbus and James and Colin picked them up - with a ‘welcome back from federal prison’ sign. Sophie just grinned and greeted them both with a big hug, giggling when James kissed her cheek and Rafe socked him in the arm. The whole drive back, she chattered excitedly, filling the boys in on all her adventures while Rafe barely stayed awake, his head slumped onto her shoulder.

They went straight to Rafe’s senior house to relax and she gave herself a tour right away, impressed by the clean house and lack of lewd decor. (It was going up next week, anyways.)

She wasn’t tired at all as she strolled into his room, making a big deal of the newly painted walls and a few plants scattered around on shelves. “Check it out! This looks so good, Rafe!”

He yawned - again - and flopped onto his bed. “Shh.”

“Didn’t you sleep?” She did the same, sprawling out on his bed. “I can’t believe you have a king-sized bed, I’m never staying at my place.”

“No. Couldn’t sleep.” He stretched his neck uncomfortably, groaning. She nudged him over, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and he shook his head. “Nooo. I’m too tired for sex.”

She giggled and tugged again. “It’s not that. Sit up, I’ll rub your back.”

He sat up just enough to tug his shirt over his head and flopped back down to the mattress on his stomach. She crawled onto him and straddled him to massage his shoulders, digging her thumbs into the base of his neck. He groaned, twisting a little. “Lotion. In my nightstand drawer.”

“Ew, is that for -”

“My hands get dry, dummy, get your head out of the gutter.”

She flicked his neck. “Be nice or I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, baby, stay.” He whined, flexing his back a little as she stretched. She smiled to herself, appreciating his muscles and traced a finger down his spine. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Watch your hands.”

“I’m just touching your back.” She dug in a little harder into his shoulders, grinning when he groaned in appreciation.

“Yeah, and I know how touchy you can get.” He quipped, closing his eyes and letting her continue the massage. “Handsy.”

She teased his fingertips under the waistband of his shorts. “You’re gonna have to shower anyways.”

It took about two seconds for him to change his mind. “Hmm….fine. But I’m not gonna do any work if you start something.” He yawned. “And you’re not done on my back.”

She rolled her eyes and got back to work, pleased by his little satisfied noises. She was just about to roll him back over and tug down his shorts when James slammed his palm on the door. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe, we don’t want to hear you jacking off!”

“Jesus Christ, James, come in!” Rafe yelled back with annoyance lacing his tone. James came in to see their (mainly) innocent position. “Oh. It sounded like you were doing something else. Hi Sophie, I didn’t know you were still here.”

She giggled, crawling off of Rafe. “Hey. We weren’t -”

“Yeah, I can see that. My bad.” He went to leave and paused, sticking his head back in the door. “You should know, though, my room’s right below his. And we all share that bathroom, so I’d prefer things to be cleaned. Regularly.”

“Get out, James.” Rafe pointed with a glare. James nodded with a grin and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Sophie gave him an apologetic smile. “He’s really just below us?”

“Yeah. I don’t fucking care, I told him I’d buy him a white noise machine. C’mere.” He flipped over and pulled her up to his hips, groaning obnoxiously loud when his hard cock brushed against her core.

She giggled, rocking back and forth on him. “Now you’re just being annoying.”

“Good. He’s been worse, bringing home a different girl every weekend for a straight month before I left. Colin says he’s going through his hoe phase.” He yawned, tugging at her shirt. “You have about ten minutes to fuck me before I pass out in this bed.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, pulling off her shirt. “That’s it? Sure it’s worth it?”

“Angel, please.” He nearly begged, pulling her down to kiss her desperately, grinding his hips against hers.

“Okay, okay, you’re so needy.” She teased. “Let me just take care of you.”

“No, I want -” He started, cutting himself off when she pulled out his hard cock from his shorts and stroked down his length, making him hiss. “Okay. That’s fine.”

She rolled her eyes and ducked down to take him into her mouth, not giving any warning. He nearly groaned again until she reached up and slapped her free hand over his mouth. “Shh. Stay quiet or I’ll stop.”

He let his head fall back so she couldn’t see him and fisted the sheets, bucking up into her mouth. “So good. So fucking good, baby.” He mumbled against her hand, just loud enough that Sophie could hardly hear.

It didn’t take long for him to come, especially with the way she sucked on him and twisted her wrist at the same time. When he did, her hand still clapped against his mouth, he let out a satisfied sigh and grinned down at her. “You’re incredible.”

She removed her hand and gave him a quick kiss. “You’re too easy. I think that was four minutes.”

“Can’t help it. You were all touchy, you know what that does to me.” He tried pulling her close, all sleepy, and she gently swatted her hands away.

“No, baby. I gotta go home and shower, then unpack. And I want to get dinner with Allie and Jules.”

He frowned. “What about me?”

“I’ve been with you nonstop for three whole weeks.” She grinned and gave him another short kiss. “You’ll be okay. We’re gonna have to go back to sleeping apart sometimes.”

“Noooo.” He grumbled, reaching for her as she stood and tugged her shoes back on.

“Welcome back to reality, Cameron.”

“But you - you need your turn -” He tried arguing helplessly and she just grinned.

“I own a vibrator, remember?”

“Fuck. That thing.”

“Don’t worry.” She leaned against the wall with a smirk, arms crossed. “I’ll let you borrow it sometime. Can you drive me?”

Rafe sighed but ambled out of bed, tugging his shorts back up and pulling his shirt on. “This is not how I expected the night to go.”

“We both know you’re gonna pass out in bed the second you get back. Hopefully after a shower.”

“Yeah, probably.” He yawned, stretching. “If I’m not texting you by one in the afternoon tomorrow please check on me.”

She nodded seriously and shook his hand, making him laugh. “You have a deal. Don’t forget you have to pack though, we’re going home in two days.”

“We are home…?”

“Home home. Remember? We booked the flights yesterday in Rome?”

He nodded in recognition, casting a glance at his stuffed suitcase on the ground. “Right. Remind me why I couldn’t just ask for the plane?”

She scowled before she could catch herself. “I thought you didn’t want to see your dad when you were home.”

“Touché.” Rafe noticed her scowl but didn’t mention it, not having the energy to persist. He grabbed his keys and took her hand, bringing her out to the car. “C’mon, my chariot awaits.”

____

The two of them spent their two days before going home very differently - Rafe slept nearly the entire time, woke up at night to go get tacos with the boys, then went back to bed. Sophie decorated her entire room within four hours, set up her senior architecture studio, and had meetings with a professor, an advisor, and the co-president of the alumni mentorship program. (Rafe was exhausted just from seeing her texts about her schedule.)

The girls dropped them off at the airport only forty five minutes before their flight, despite Rafe’s protests that it wasn’t nearly enough time and Sophie’s argument that she’d made a flight with less time on a tiny airline in Spain. Their flight was inconvenient, as always - they had to fly into Virginia and take a 2.5 hour ferry to get back home. When they finally arrived, greeted by the familiar summer humidity and the smell of the sea, her brother picked them up to bring them to Sophie’s.

“Soph!” He yelled out the window from the pickup line. Rafe noticed immediately and straightened up, grabbing her bag as well as his to walk to the car.

She beamed, waving as they came closer, and slid into the front seat while Rafe put their suitcases in the back. “Carter! Hi! I thought you were moving this weekend?”

“I pushed it back a couple weeks, wanted to see you before I left. How was Barcelona?” He glanced back and nodded at Rafe briefly in the backseat. “Rafe.”

“Hey. Thanks for picking us up.” Rafe smiled politely, nearly crammed into the backseat because of how far back Sophie’s seat was. He assumed Carter had moved it before he came to pick them up, but didn’t dare say a word.

“Yeah, no problem.” The rest of the ride was just the two siblings talking, mainly Sophie telling him about her study abroad and the trips she’d taken with Rafe. Carter kept his eye on Rafe in the backseat at a few parties of her story, especially when she stuttered over talking about swimming in Nice and Rafe’s birthday. (Rafe very pointedly looked out the window to avoid his eyes.)

They were greeted by Sophie’s dad when Carter pulled the car up in the driveway. He wrapped Sophie in a tight, smothering hug when she jumped out of the car, the two of them sharing matching grins. “Hey, Sophie girl.”

“Hi Dad.” She mumbled against his shirt, hugging him tight. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He finally let her go and welcomed Rafe in for a hug too, ignoring his handshake. “Nice to see you too, kiddo.”

“You too, Mr. Flint.” He beamed and excused himself from the hug quickly to get both his and Sophie’s suitcases, ever the gentleman in his presence. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here, I really appreciate it.”

Her dad nodded with a smile, taking Sophie’s bag from him. “Of course. Come on, I’ll show you to your spot in the guest room. Soph, your mom’s out running errands, I thought we could all head out to the course for a round if you’re not too tired?”

“Sure, that sounds fine. Dad, did you forward that study I emailed you about using filtered stormwater for the course to the groundskeeper? So it’s more eco-friendly?” Sophie asked over her shoulder, leading the way inside and upstairs.

Jeff sent Rafe a knowing smile behind her back, shaking his head. Ever since Sophie really got into eco conservation in high school, she’d been pushing more and more for the entire family to make small changes. Her efforts got more and more involved as she learned more in college, and she’d had meetings with the groundskeeper at the country club no less than five times - he listened politely as a favor to her dad, but that was all. “I sent it, yes. I’m not sure how well it was received.”

“Oh, well, I can send you some more resources. It’s good to at least provide the options, you know?” She turned back and took her bag into her room, automatically going for Rafe’s as well.

Rafe smiled, subtly pulling it away and tried to redirect her dad’s attention. “Um, which one’s the guest room?”

“Other end of the hallway, just opposite Carter’s room.” Jeff gave him a pointed look and he nodded quickly. “Great, thank you.”

“Dad, you’re not seriously making him stay in there.” Sophie argued, giving her dad a pleading look.

“No, it’s fine! I’m sure it’s perfect, I’ll go make myself at home.” Rafe quickly excused himself, heading down the hall and just barely stayed in earshot of the two.

Her dad regarded her carefully. “Sophie, you can’t really expect me to believe you two had been in separate dorms that entire trip like you’ve been telling your mother, can you?”

She grew embarrassed, leaning against her doorway. “Dad...”

“I’m not oblivious, honey, I just hope you’re being safe -”

“Dad! Please. I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.” She told him with wide eyes and red cheeks, backing into her room slowly.

“Alright, just. Be careful. Both of you.” He warned her, patting her shoulder before heading back down the stairs, calling out loudly over his shoulder. “Be ready in fifteen!”

She just groaned and flopped back onto her bed.

“Ready, kids?” Jeff called up the stairs, exactly fifteen minutes later. Sophie was in the guest room with Rafe, sporting a golf tank from high school and a matching skort. The tank was a little tight across the chest and she’d flaunted into his room with it unbuttoned to completely show off her boobs, showing him exactly what was underneath.

“Yes sir!” Rafe called back, a little higher pitched than normal, and shoved Sophie’s shoulder lightly. “Button that up,” he hissed.

“You’re a prude.” She rolled her eyes, buttoning it back up to her neck but adjusted her skort to sit a little higher. (Nothing too inappropriate, but it was just enough to drive Rafe crazy.)

“I’m not - we are going golfing with your father, baby, and you look like several dreams I’ve had in high school. Do not pull something. Fix your skirt.”

She perked up, taking a step closer. “You dreamed about me in high school? What kind of dreams?”

“No. We’re not doing this.” He told her, but she didn’t miss the way he reached in his pocket and grimaced for a moment. “Behave.”

She grinned and practically skipped downstairs, with Rafe following close behind. “We’re ready! Dad, can we just play 9 today? I wanted to go hang out on the beach with Rafe later.”

“Our reservation’s for the full 18. What, you don’t want to play a full round with your old man?” Her dad teased, but she could hear the tiny tone of hurt underneath.

“We can go to the beach another time, the full 18’s perfect.” Rafe interjected. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up with you though, Mr. Flint, I haven’t really played since last year.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine, I saw your form earlier this summer.” Her dad replied cheerfully, not noticing as Sophie mouthed “suck up” to Rafe behind his back.

They all drove to the course and split into carts, her dad in one and Rafe and Sophie in the other. As they rode to the second hole, Sophie kicked her feet up on the dash, ignoring the golf etiquette standard. “Hey, Rafe.”

He instantly reached over and shoved her feet off, casting a glance toward her dad to make sure he didn’t see. “Yes ma’am.”

“You think we could pull off a quickie tonight?”

He fixed her with a glare, unamused. “Sophie. Do not.”

She just smirked as she skipped off the cart to the hole, club in hand. She didn’t quit the entire rest of the game, murmuring little dirty things into his ear on the cart or pretending like she was going to flash him, bursting into giggles as he nearly wrecked the cart trying to lunge across the seat to keep her shirt down. Rafe was entirely distracted the whole game, trying to stay as civil as possible around her dad while also keeping Sophie in check.

Her competitive streak kicked in around the sixth hole, when she was losing by just enough. Jeff kept pointing out little imperfections in her form - her arms were bent too far, her hips didn’t rotate enough, her head wasn’t down for long enough - and Rafe winced nearly every time. Sophie took it all in stride though, and he had to remind himself that criticism from a parent was fine when it was paired with constant encouragement after she improved.

Her dad was a little more sensitive to how Rafe responded to criticism, starting everything with a compliment first and then phrasing the critique as a suggestion. At the end of the game - despite Rafe barely losing to Sophie, Jeff coming in first - he nudged Rafe and gave him an encouraging grin. “You’re looking good, kid. Might beat this one if she wasn’t so annoying.”

“Dad!” Sophie exclaimed. “I didn’t do a thing -”

“I raised you better than to whistle on the golf course, Soph.” Her dad pointed out as he poked her in the leg with his club. “Breaking every single etiquette rule out there.”

“It’s a simple distraction technique.” She protested with a sheepish grin. She had whistled at Rafe when he bent over to place his ball on the tee - twice - and thought her dad hadn’t noticed either time.

“If you’re using distraction to win the game, maybe you aren’t good enough.” Her dad retorted, laughing as Rafe’s eyebrows shot up at the same time as Sophie’s. “Go drive the carts back, I’ll meet you two at the car.” As Sophie grinned and started toward her dad’s cart, he called after her again. “No racing! Not again!”

She just ignored him and Jeff turned to Rafe with an exasperated grin. “I’m not sure how you kept up with her for that long in Europe.”

“I’m not entirely sure either, sir.” Rafe told him with a smile.

____

When they came back to the house, all a little sweaty, her mom had a tray of lemonade and snacks set out for all of them. “Mrs. Flint, hi. Thank you for this.” Rafe thanked her immediately, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Rafe, it’s good to see you, thank you for keeping an eye on my child the past few weeks.” Her mom greeted with a teasing grin. “Sophie, Angie is coming over with the twins any second now, can you two watch them for a couple hours?”

Sophie scowled, flopping back into her chair and only straightened up instinctively when her mom tapped her shoulders. “Rafe and I were going to -”

“No, that’s fine, we don’t have plans.” Rafe cut her off quickly, nudging Sophie’s foot with his. “Who’s Angie?”

“Angie’s my older cousin, she just had her babies around February.” Sophie informed him. “They’re kind of cute, I guess.”

“They’re very cute, and it’s just so Angie and your aunt and I can go shopping for more baby clothes. You haven’t met them yet, you should be excited to see them.” Her mom chastised with a shake of her head. “You’ll have your own soon enough, so this’ll be a learning experience.”

Sophie nearly spat out her lemonade, affronted. “Mom!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Sophie.” She tutted and went back inside.

Sophie gaped after her, shaking her head. “Ignore her. Go shower, I’ll shower when you’re done.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that exchange, always a little confused by her mom’s well-intentioned insults. “I thought the kids were coming…?”

“Yeah, I can handle them and then we’ll swap.” She grinned, lowering her voice. “Or we could shower together and it’ll be faster.”

Rafe practically scrambled out of his chair to go shower, pointing accusingly at her. “Stop that.”

“Stop what.”

“You know - that.” He gestured wildly at the way she’d leaned forward, undone a button and bit her bottom lip. “You’re teasing. Just wait until we’re back in Ohio, please.”

She just smirked and leaned forward to kick his ass lightly. “Go.”

____

When she came back down after her slightly-too-long shower with damp hair, she stopped in her tracks at the base of the stairs. Rafe had one of the babies napping in the play crib and the other asleep on his chest, tiny fingers curled around his pinky as he carefully rubbed her back. Sophie took a quick photo before he could notice and approached quietly, combing her fingers through his hair affectionately.

He lifted his head to smile at her, whispering. “She fell asleep like this, isn’t she sweet? I think this one is baby Ava.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s Amelia. Ava’s in the crib, she has more hair.”

“Oh. Look at her tiny fingers, Sophie.” He murmured, so proud that he was able to get them to stay asleep. When Angie had arrived, she’d brought in both car seats and set up the crib, then handed off both still-sleeping babies to him with only a short introduction. She’d nestled Amelia on his chest, telling him she slept better that way, and thanked him profusely before leaving with Sophie’s mom.

“Babies are so weird.” Sophie replied, a little too loud. “At least they’re starting to get cute.”

He shushed her immediately with a glare. “They’re not weird.”

“How are you so good at this?” She cocked her head, considering picking up Ava from the crib but not trusting her skills.

“Dunno. I like kids.” He traced small circles on Amelia’s back, quietly shushing her when she cooed a little. After a few moments, he glanced up at Sophie with a smile. “How many do you want?”

“I’m not giving you a baby any time soon.” She told him pointedly, leaning into him a little. “But I guess if you really want, I could start calling you daddy…”

He shuddered, his whole face scrunching up into a scowl. “I hope that’s not a kink of yours because I’m really not sure I could entertain it.”

She giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’m just kidding. Um, I don’t know that I’ve thought about it. I’ve only ever thought as far as my job.”

“Wait, really? Never?”

She shrugged. “Nah. I liked having Carter growing up though. You’ve thought about it?”

He nodded confidently. “Yeah. Two or three’s perfect, I think. Not too much of an age gap in between. A good mix of girls and boys. I want to...yeah.”

Sophie furrowed her brow, turning to face him. “You want what?”

“I want to be a good dad. To do it right.” He told her, a little shy. “I’m not sure I could, but -”

“You will.” She interrupted him, firmly. “I know you will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, baby. You’re going to love our kids so well -”

“Our kids?” He interjected with a small grin, making her blush as a matching blush crept up on his cheeks.

“Sorry, did you plan on having kids with someone else?” She raised her eyebrows.

“No. ‘Course not. Just didn’t know you planned on having them with me.” His grin grew to split across his cheeks, beaming.

She shook her head, feeling herself grow bright red. “Well, yeah. Later, but yeah. You’re it for me, Rafe.” She told him, her voice going a little soft.

He nodded, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss the back of it, the most movement he could make without disturbing the baby. “Good. My favorite.”

“My favorite.” She echoed softly, leaning back into him. As the garage door opened and both babies startled, Ava starting to wail, she scowled and stood to pick her up, holding her out at arm’s length as she began to scream. Amelia began to wake but stayed quiet, her little fist tightening around Rafe’s finger.

“Actually hold her, Soph.” He told her with a skeptical glance at the way she was clearly uncomfortable around the baby. She moved her grip to be able to rock the baby but Ava kept screaming, sensing Sophie’s lack of experience.

Just as Sophie was about to place her hand over Ava’s mouth, Angie came in with an exasperated sigh. “Oh, baby, it’s okay, did the garage wake you?” She cooed, immediately soothing her daughter.

Sophie’s mom followed, smiling at the sight of Rafe completely comfortable with Amelia quietly on his chest still. “Look at that, you’ve got the natural instinct.”

“Oh my god, can I take you home with me? Sophie, I’m stealing your boyfriend.” Angie joked, winking at Rafe.

He laughed, getting up carefully so he didn’t shift Amelia too much and carefully placed her back into the crib. “I wouldn’t mind a little babysitting, but I’ve got to go back to Ohio for our senior year at the end of the weekend.”

“Right, of course.” Angie nodded, giving him a grateful smile.

Sophie rolled her eyes at Rafe behind Angie’s back. “Thanks for letting us watch them for a bit, Ang, they’re adorable, but we kind of have plans…”

“But you'll be back after dinner?” Her mom asked. Sophie resisted a scowl while Rafe just gave her an eager smile. “We’ll be back for dinner, no worries.”

“Okay, see you later!” Sophie practically dragged him upstairs, pulling him into her room and shutting the door before he could protest. He immediately reached for the doorknob, but she grabbed his hand and leaned up to kiss him, hard.

Rafe kissed her back for a few moments before he was reminded where he was and pulled back quickly. “Soph, we can’t.”

“I just want to kiss you.” She argued with a pleading tone, pouting a little.

“I thought we were leaving? Going to the beach?” He dodged another attempted kiss from her, easily slipping out from where she had him pinned against the door and stepped away from her.

“Right. I have to change.” She pulled off her shirt and bralette in one fell swoop, then kicked off her shorts too before he could blink.

He gaped for a moment when he realized she was completely naked, his voice lowering a little. “Baby.”

“Yeah?” She strolled over to her dresser, pretending to rifle through her drawer of old swimsuits, and settled on a hot pink string bikini. She’d bought it in high school and kept it in her car to change into for pool parties, because if her mom ever caught her in it she was sure she’d be transferred to a Catholic boarding school immediately. She knew for a fact Rafe had seen it before, even complimented her in it back in high school, and was hoping he’d recognize it.

He did.

Right away.

“Soph, not - not that one.” He implored, voice cracking. He could feel his throat going dry as he fought every urge in his body telling him to go over to her and have his way with her right that instant, trying to remind himself that her parents were literally right downstairs.

She held back a grin as she shimmied into the bikini, tying it up behind her neck. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“I’m getting you back for this. All this teasing today. I swear. I - I -” He couldn’t even come up with a decent half-hearted threat as she strode closer, letting her hair down from her claw clip, and a big whiff of her shampoo overloaded his senses.

“You’ll what.”

“You’re going to regret this.” He told her, and she swore she could hear the way his voice was shaking.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me? Tie me up?” She teased, and the hint of a laugh in her voice was enough to break his spell.

“Sophie, please. No more. I’ll do whatever you want the second we’re back in Ohio, but I am really trying to make a good impression on your family.” He pleaded, eyes trained intensely on hers - though she was pretty sure it was just so he wouldn’t be able to look down at her tits.

“Okay, okay.” She grabbed her shirt from the bed and pulled it on over the swimsuit, her shorts following. “You don’t have to try so hard though, you know?”

“I know, I just. I want to do this right.” He relaxed a little once she got dressed, but was still mainly tense. “Can I, uh, use your bathroom?”

Sophie sat back on the bed, sending him a confused glance. “No one uses the one out in the hall by the guest room, just use that.”

“That one doesn’t have a shower.”

“You just showered - oh.” She realized as soon as Rafe’s slightly pained expression set in and she noticed the bulge in his shorts. Sophie grinned, satisfied. “I could take care of that faster, y’know.”

“I think I’d still be hard after.” He confessed with a shake of his head, quickly letting himself into the bathroom and ignoring her giggles as he locked the door.

____

They were only out at the beach for a couple hours before they had to return home, but it was like she could see the tension literally unraveling from Rafe’s body when he wasn’t under the pressure of impressing her parents. They laid out their towels with a little overlap and she had her head on Rafe’s arm as they sprawled out on the beach, uninterrupted. When his phone chimed, he nudged her a little. “Can you grab that?”

Sophie sat up to get his phone from her bag at their feet. “Your dad texted.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know your password.”

“You did the Face ID thing for it in France, remember?” He didn’t move a muscle, halfway to falling asleep out in the sun.

She cocked her head, surprised when the phone unlocked. “I thought you would have taken it off, thought it was just for traveling.”

“Nope. I have nothing to hide.” He nudged his sunglasses down and squinted up at her. “What does it say?”

“Oh, right.” She opened his text, frowning a little. “Um, he said he saw you leaving the country club the other day and wants you over for lunch tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” He muttered, sitting up with a sigh and took the phone from her to read over the text to see if there were any undertones of him being in trouble. “Okay. You’ll come, right?”

“What - me? I don’t know if that’s really necessary -”

“I’ve been with your family all weekend.”

She frowned more, tucking her knees up to her chest. “I thought you wanted to stay with my family.”

“I do, I do!” He backtracked quickly, reaching out and skimming his hand over her arm. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Rafe…” She started, hesitant, but gave in once she saw his pleading look. “Alright. I’ll go, but I doubt he’ll want me there.”

“He’ll be fine.” Rafe shot off a quick reply to his dad, satisfied when Ward liked the message in response. “It’ll be fine. It’s just lunch.”

“Mmhmm.” She didn’t bring up how he sounded like he was reassuring himself more than anything. She stood, offering her hand. “Come on, swim with me.”

He kissed the back of it before taking it and hauling himself up. “I love you. You know that?”

“I know, baby. I always know.”

_____

Later that night, Sophie sat across from her dad as they got dinner ready. She’d informed him she and Rafe were going to Ward’s house tomorrow for lunch and her dad had merely replied with a noncommittal hum, asked her how she felt, and nodded again when she replied with a wary shrug.

“I never liked the idea of you dating.” Jeff told her as he sliced up watermelon for their dinner that night. Rafe paused around the corner, sent to the garage to grab charcoal for the grill, not wanting to interrupt.

“Dad.” She whined a little, embarrassed, but didn’t move from her spot across the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t, you’re my little girl. But I like Rafe, a lot. He’s a good kid, Sophie, keep him around.”

“I’m planning on it.” She murmured.

“You love him?” Jeff inquired, pausing his cutting of the watermelon for a moment. She merely nodded to respond with a blush and a smile and Rafe nearly walked out then just so he could see the look on her face, desperately craving the confirmation.

“He makes me...I just…” Sophie tripped over her words a little, tugging at the loose threads on her jean shorts. “I feel safe with him. With Luke, or Peter, you know, I -”

“I try not to remember them.” Her dad quipped with a smile, making her roll her eyes. “Go on.”

“Just, with them I didn’t really see much past what we had. But with Rafe, it’s different. Like, I know he’ll stick by my side. For...a while.” She decided, giving her dad a shy but eager smile.

“Well, when that time comes, I’ll be happy to have him in the family.” Jeff told her decisively.

“Me too.” She murmured, then hopped up from her chair. “I’m gonna go find him, he’s probably still rooting around the garage for the charcoal.”

Rafe carefully stepped back a few steps, just enough to quickly shut the door to the garage loudly and stroll in with a sense of purpose like he hadn’t just overheard the whole conversation. “Found it! Sorry, took me a second.”

“I thought you got lost.” She beamed at him, seeming to regard him in a different light for a moment.

He stood taller under her adoring gaze, smiling back. “Nope. Where do you want this, Mr. Flint?”

“Backyard’s fine. Know how to work the grill, Rafe?” Jeff set down the knife and pushed the watermelon toward Sophie so she could take over.

“Uh, not sure, I’ve only ever used electric.”

“C’mon then, let me show you how it’s done.” He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder as he passed to lead the way out to the backyard.

____

Sophie was hardly able to sleep all night, so she crept into Rafe’s room around 1am, careful to only open the door just enough so it wouldn’t creak. “Rafe?”

He was awake too, just barely, and rolled over to greet her, whispering. “Hey. Why are you still up?”

“Can’t sleep.” She mumbled and crawled into his bed without invitation, laying on top of him and placed her head over his heart. He hesitated for a moment but eventually wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Me either.”

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

“For lunch? A little, yeah. But I don’t sleep well without you anyways.” He confessed, playing with the ends of her hair.

“That’s no good.” She traced little patterns on his chest. “Your dad hates me. Right?”

“I don’t think so.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, not bothering to add that he wasn’t sure she was even enough on his radar for Ward to consider hating her. “You need to sleep, sweet girl.”

“So do you.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here.”

She raised her arm with her watch aimlessly. “I set an alarm for six. I’ll go back to my room then.”

“Okay. Sweet dreams, angel.” He kept playing with her hair until he heard her breathing slow and deepen, and only let himself fall asleep an hour after, once he was sure they wouldn’t be caught.

_______

Later that day, after anxiously pacing the house all morning, Sophie was squeezing the life out of his hand as they walked up to his front door. He pressed a kiss to her temple before letting them in. “Soph. It’s okay.”

“Your dad hates me.” She told him with a straight face.

“He - I don’t think that’s true.” He faltered, punching in the code to the front door and toed it open when it unlocked. “This isn’t fun for me either, can you please help me out and not break my hand?”

“Right! Right, sorry.” She let go of him right away, letting him shake out his hand. “Here, let me -” She reached up to fix his hair and he jerked away, startled.

“He says it looks better gelled, don’t -”

“I’m not, I’m just fixing -” She carefully pushed a stray strand back into place and he gave her a grateful smile when he felt it. “Okay. We’re okay?”

“We’re good. Go ahead.” She nodded and followed him in, taking his hand when he reached out for hers.

Ward spotted them first, coming in from the kitchen with two wine glasses in his hands. “Rafe! Do you want wine? Um...Savannah…?”

Rafe’s face fell and his shoulders dropped as he clutched her hand a little tighter. “Her name is Sophie, Dad. I’ve only told you that at least ten times.”

“It’s okay.” She excused quickly with an overly polite smile. “We’ve only met once, at your Christmas party.”

“Right, right, I remember.” Ward nodded and set the glasses down at the table. “I’ll get you both a glass, hold on. Rose!” He called out, going back into the kitchen.

Rafe gave her an apologetic glance and she shook her head quickly. “It’s fine. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

“Yes, well, it’s fine. Are Sarah and Wheezie here?”

“I already asked, Sarah’s back at school and Wheezie got out of this to hang out with some friends.” He had texted them the night before for support, but had no luck.

“Okay.” She reached up and stroked her thumb over his cheek, whispering. “Relax your shoulders for me, baby.”

“Right.” He nodded, but stayed tense. Rose returned with Ward a few moments later, with the whole bottle in hand and two empty glasses. “Rafe, you’re here. Sophie, hello, are you still jetlagged from your trip?”

“Um, no.” Sophie replied curtly. “We’ve been back for a few days now.”

“Oh, you just looked a little tired. Maybe it’s the lighting.” Rose gave her a sweet smile and gestured around, although the entire dining room was filled with natural light.

“Maybe.” Sophie forced herself to agree, sitting after Rafe pulled out her chair for her. All their plates were already set out with individual portions, and she noticed there was more salad on her plate than anyone else’s, but didn’t dare say a thing.

“Tell me about your internship, Rafe. You didn’t leave early for the trip, did you?” Ward asked, starting to eat and Sophie took that as an invitation to start as well. When she reached for the wrong fork, Rafe tried to subtly reach out and push the other one toward her.

“No, I finished it then went out to Spain. The internship was good, I learned a lot. I have a job offer from them.”

“You’re not accepting, of course.” Rose replied, then raised her eyebrows at his pause to answer. “Right? Aren’t you coming home after graduation to work with your father?”

“I have a couple options.” Rafe replied vaguely, taking a larger sip of wine than what was considered polite.

To his surprise, Ward nodded in agreement. “You can explore a few things before you come home, it’ll give you more experience for joining the board. A year or so after graduation, that’s fine.”

“You’ll let him swan around instead of doing his job?”

“A couple years won’t hurt anything. He’s in supply chain, Rose, it’s relevant work.”

Rafe had a small smile as he picked at his food with the fork, then lifted his head. “What if I didn’t get a job in supply chain? To start?”

Ward fixed him with a stern gaze. “If this is about your minor, I don’t want to hear it.”

His smile dropped as quickly as he’d found it. “No, yeah, supply chain is smart.”

Rose glanced between the two of them, then cocked her head at Sophie. “What are you studying?”

“I’m in architecture.” Sophie replied, tensing a little.

“Oh. That’s cute. I’ve been looking to hire someone to help decorate our parlor, actually -”

“It’s, um, designing buildings, not interior decorating. It requires a master’s.” Sophie cut her off, with a little more edge to her voice than necessary.

Rose nodded. “Right. What’s the starting salary, around 30k? It’s a good thing you’re with Rafe, you won’t have to sacrifice for a tiny apartment once you graduate.”

Sophie flinched, stabbing her fork into the salad harder than necessary. “It depends on the firm.”

Rafe stayed silent, staring at his wine glass. They all sat there quietly as the clinks of their forks and their glasses echoed in the room for a few moments as they all ate, or pushed around the food on their plates.

“Rafe.”

His head snapped up at Ward. “Yes sir.”

“Are you still wanting the plane and the house for your fall break?”

Sophie didn’t dare look up to show the surprise flash across her face.

“Yes, sir, if that’s alright. It’s just a small group.” Rafe replied, nodding quickly. “I’ll do that remote work like you asked, call into the meetings if you need me to.”

“That’ll work.” Ward nodded. “You haven’t taken Sophie down there, just Brooklyn, right?”

“Mm. Yeah. That was a while ago.” Rafe sighed. “I haven’t dated her in over a year.”

“You’ll love it, Sophie,” Rose smiled at her. “It’s the best, so luxurious. You’re probably not used to it so it’ll be a treat.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “Right.”

Rafe glanced down at his watch as he briefly squeezed her knee under the table. “Thank you for having us over for lunch, Dad, Rose, but we have to catch our flight tonight and haven’t packed up yet. Sophie’s dad is driving us to the airport.”

“Alright.” Ward rose from his chair at the same time as his son, nodding. “Call me, okay? Check in once in a while?”

“Yeah, Dad, of course.” Rafe relaxed into the hug with his dad, pulling away with a broad smile. “Maybe you could come up for parent’s weekend this year.”

“I’ll check the calendar. Sophie, it was nice to see you again.” Ward walked them both out and she was unbelievably stiff as she shook his hand, her jaw set. When they walked out hand in hand again to her dad’s car, parked at the very end of the drive, she stayed quiet.

Rafe slid into the car with her and gave her a grin, like the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “That wasn’t bad, right? I expected much worse!”

“Yeah.” She nodded weakly, staring ahead at his house out the window. “Can we go?”

He started the car with a frown, reaching out to place his hand on her thigh but she shifted away. “Sophie. What’s up?”

“Let’s just get home.” She offered a fake smile that he saw through right away, but he didn’t press it.

The rest of the drive was quiet as Rafe turned the radio up and tried to ignore her leg jittering anxiously and how she kept switching her ring from finger to finger, a constant nervous habit of hers. When he pulled into the driveway at her house, he reached out again and stilled her leg. “Sophie.”

“You didn’t say a thing.” She murmured to herself, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” He frowned and reached out to take her hand.

Sophie pulled back a little, but turned to look at him. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m glad it went well with your dad.”

“But…”

She leaned forward and gave him a short kiss and a smile to match, shaking her head. “You said it yourself, we have to go pack. Come on.” She got out of the car and didn’t give him a second glance backward as she strode into the house.

Rafe sat there and watched, dumbfounded and unsure of what he’d done.

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney @babeyglo

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe x sophie #college rafe #frat rafe #mine #ok rlly needed to get this out but i need to concentrate more on the big conversation so cliffhanger sry!!!!#actually no i'm giving you almost eight thousand words i'm not sorry. i take it back

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penwieldingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Falling for you

The second installment of my drabble series. Let me know what you think about it. A big thank you again to @fortheloveoffanfic for being my beta 💗 Happy reading everyone

Also here are the songs played at the pub:

Bean Pháidín , Tell me Ma-Gaelic Storm , Galway Girl - Fiddler's Green

Summary: A few weeks later finds the reader in all kinds of embarrassing situations - mostly tripping over stuff or falling over people - right in front of Lee

Warnings: none, besides fluff, clumsiness and a little tinge of jealousy

Words: 2231

Another day on the set of the second installment of the Hobbit series and already you felt like the clumsiest of all people on set. Either you’d slip, trip or let stuff fall to the ground. But it wasn’t random, it only happened whenever you were around Lee or in his close proximity.

James and Martin had made fun of the fact that it would only happen with the tall actor, but you waved them off and of course Benedict chimed into the scheme.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re falling for the King, luv.” he said one time while the four of you had been granted a break from filming. “You make a fool out of yourself because there’s that one person that makes your heart skip a beat.”

Angrily shuffling your food around the plate, you glared at the British actor. “Well thank you for the vote of confidence. If you hadn’t said it I wouldn’t have known I was such a joke on set.”

“What Ben means to say, dear,” James started, putting his hand on your arm. “is, that when you feel something for another person you get clumsy, do crazy things or fall all over yourself because you can’t concentrate around them. All three of us went through that when we met the women we knew would one day be our wives. It has nothing to do with you being bad at your work, the opposite, actually.”

Reluctantly you nodded your head, feeling like you just made a fool out of yourself again in front of those that were your friends. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never been like that before and I fear if this happens more Pete will get tired of me messing up. I don’t want to lose this job.”

“You won’t,” Martin said with so much conviction, you couldn’t help but give him a small, teary smile. “Peter isn’t like that. He values your work as part of the crew and how you bring up new ideas or possible changes. Now if you were to set the whole place on fire that would be another case.”

Ben and James laughed softly and you couldn’t help the giggle escaping your lips when you listened to him. You were very lucky to have friends like them or you’d probably would have resigned after the first incident. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed this.” you said sending them a grateful smile. "But now I got to head back to work. The king on his throne is waiting for me."

All three laughed before Martin called after you. "Be careful up there and if you fall, fall in his lap, that's a lot more comfortable than the ground." he joked when you had turned back to the three actors but waved him off with your own middle finger. You knew he had a knack for putting his fingers up for the camera when he shouldn't and you were sure there were some scenes he snuck his middle finger in, just like he always did.

A chorus of laughter followed as you righted your work bag and made your way back to the set with Thranduil's throne.

Orlando stood underneath it, grinning up at Lee dressed up as the Elvenking and waited his turn. "Looking good, dad." he called with a chuckle and you could see the tall actor grin.

"Thank you, son. I feel very good up here." he answered leaning back on the chair, trying to fix his robes and wig as best as he could while a few strands were hanging in the branches of his crown.

Peter saw you emerging from the mass and called you over. "Ah, Y/N, good that you're here. Lee's just had a bit of a stumble up the stairs but we'll be doing a few headshots of him and well, you see the mess."

"Sure, I'll get right on it." you told him, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself so you'd be as relaxed as possible while working on fixing the actor. When he saw you approaching, Lee stood up and made to walk down, but you halted him with a motion of your hand. "Stay, I'm coming up so there's no repeat of that."

He stayed standing, watching you make your way up the stairs. Thank God there were handrails just in case. "If you insist

I could have come down, didn't want you to fall to your doom, dear mortal."

"Charms get you everywhere, huh?" you asked him with a grin as you ascended to the Weta built throne, pointing to the seat so he would sit back down again, keeping his long legs tugged to chair so you could start your work on his hair.

"So far it worked out rather well, I think." He told you, smiling as you gently pulled a strand away from the branch of his crown.

You couldn't help the small smile forming on your face as you listened to his jokes while you freed the last of his hair and righted his crown. A final touch of powder over his nose and you were finished. "Now, you're all done and you're looking regal again." You packed up your bag and turned to descend the stairs when you lost your footing and if it hadn't been for Lee's swift reaction, you would have tumbled down.

Short puffs of breath were leaving your mouth when you held on tightly to his shoulders, his arms circling your waist as you had fallen into his lap with that move. "Hello there." he whispered, watching your shocked face, eyes blown wide with fear. "You okay?"

Biting your lip, you couldn't help but enjoy the feel of his hands on your hip, the warmth spreading through your clothes. "I-I'm sorry, I, the stairs…I guess…missed steps." you brokenly mumbled, apparently having forgotten how to talk when you looked into his blue eyes. The contact lenses only intensified his gaze.

"Yeah, they're dangerous." Lee agreed, his head leaning closer, the rest of the world around you forgotten.

Yet before he could close the gap, Peter interrupted you with a loud whistle. "If you two turtledoves are ready, we'd like to continue." he called out to you with a chuckle. Of course everyone had seen that and you already felt the heat of your blush rising all over your body.

Carefully, yet hastily you scrambled off of Lee's lap and made your way down the stairs and to the back of the set. You would have loved for the ground to swallow you up when Benedict had come over and grinned at you.

"So, I don’t think you will tell me what that up there was.” he said matter of fact, knowing you wouldn’t even be able to describe it.

“Nope,” you said, eyeing the actor and PJ going over the next scenes with a dummy. “I’d rather leave it like it is. This is just too embarrassing."

He put his arm around your shoulders pulling you close. Martin was just walking around the corner having seen the whole thing and he instantly knew you'd be shutting down, only doing your work and nothing more, keeping your distance from Lee. The Brit found the eyes of his friend and co-Sherlock-actor, nodding once, then twice. They were your friends and could see that the sparks between their fellow actor and you were there, now they only needed to kindle the fire.

"Oh, this is wonderful." you gushed, looking around the Irish pub everyone decided to visit at the eve of their day off. "It's been too long since I had so much fun besides being on set."

Already the ciders and beers and whisky were flowing and everyone was laughing and singing with the band that played that night. James had decided to take a row of tables next to the musicians so the cast and crew that wanted to go there would fit into the seats.

"You all deserve a time off after the amazing work you did." Peter said, raising his pint of Guinness for a toast. You all followed suit, calling out a shout of "Hear, hear."

Laughing and listening to all the stories everyone was telling about their time on set, you enjoyed the feeling of warmth that spread through you. Not because of the alcohol but because of your family away from home.

"Are you enjoying the music?" James asked after a short while, himself listening to the tunes and words from his home country.

Nodding your head, you clapped your hands to the rhythm and smiled as a few people started to dance to the songs you couldn't understand the lyrics to. “What is she singing about?” you asked him, leaning in so he could understand the words with the louder music.

"It’s a really old Irish song, dating back hundreds of years in Ireland. This is one of the funny old Irish songs that is sung by a woman, and she sings about another woman." the Irish actor tried to explain over the loud music. "Back in the day women would get together and sing this song about the woman in town that was married to the man that they all wanted to be married to. ‘It’s a pity that I’m not Phaidin’s wife,’ and this woman who’s married to him, they hate her, and as the verses go on, they talk about what they’d like to do to her, like they want to break her legs and get rid of her and do anything to be this man’s wife. It’s a fun song. Irish music is like that. When you translate the words, sometimes it’s like gruesome and dark, but they’re meant in a lighthearted way."

You were always blown away by the way such a story could be shown in a nice tune. "The music is so lively, you'd never guess it's such a sad and dark story behind it."

"That's just the way the Irish are." James grinned at you before another song was starting.

"For our next song we'd love for you guys to get up, dance some more and just have fun." the female singer announced and waved to all patrons in the pub. The violin, banjo and drum began to play the first chords before the singer joined in. "Tell me ma when I go home, the boys won't leave the girls alone."

Benedict and James smiled at you, holding their hand out and pulled you from your seat and onto the provided dance floor where others had already started twirling around. "Let's dance and have some fun." the Brit said, giving you a twirl.

You couldn't help the smile that found its way on your lips as you danced around with the two actors, unbeknownst of the dark blue eyes following your moves. The dance was exhilarating and both James and Ben led you through the steps, jumping and twirling with other patrons until you were out of breath and another song was over.

When you came back to get something to drink you saw one of the seats being vacant. Lee was missing from the group of merry friends and you leaned over to Orlando, who had been sitting besides him. "Where did your dad disappear to?" you asked him, mirth coloring your words as you took a large sip of your drink.

He turned to you and smiled, patting the seat next to him, so you didn't have to stand. You were grateful for that with your feet aching from all the dancing you did with his fellow actors. "He said he needed to get back to the hotel, his flight back to the States is taking off early." Orlando said and your face must have shown your confusion as you didn't know Lee was needed back in America. "Shooting for Guardians of the Galaxy is starting in a few days and he wanted to get back earlier so he arranged it in the last few days. Peter knew about it, I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"Oh, no, I really didn't know and Lee hadn't mentioned anything before." the disappointment colored your words and you sank back down in your seat. You couldn't help the feeling that it was something that recently happened and especially something you did or he would have been open enough to talk to you.

The British actor patted your leg and grinned. "Don't worry, he'll be back before you know it. Once he's done with that movie Lee's going to annoy us again with his dad jokes."

Nodding your head, you tried to feel confident, but still you didn't know why he didn't at least wait until you were back at the table to say his goodbyes. No he just left without so much as a word. Of course you were only there doing his make - up and hair but you had hoped that in the time you worked together you at least had become friends. Giving the dark haired actor a small smile you made your way back to your corner seat, staring off into space and trying not to get too drunk on your cider while thinking about why not even Peter had bothered to tell you his Elvenking was leaving the set sooner than planned.

Taglist:

@fortheloveoffanfic @toomanystoriessolittletime @omgkatinka @fuck-yeah-hope @wholelottatiffy @axshadows @a-really-bi-girl @madbaddic7ed @maggiemoo1892 @pinkzsugar @agniavateira @mary-ann84 and everyone else who wants to read this.

#lee pace imagine #lee pace x reader #drabble #the hobbit rpf #lee pace #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #series

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