my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

congrats on 3.5 baby 💚

🌱 baby blurbs — what about our loves Tommy and alfie teaming up to melt your little mind

hehe thank u angel

“look at that” alfie drawls as you gag on his cock, and he looks up, blue eyes connecting with tommy’s baby blues. “she’s takin’ it like a fucking champ”

“she always does” tommy says and, without warning, reaches between your legs and slaps your clit. you writhe and choke on alfie’s cock again, and the gangster laughs

“do that again, tom, and i’m gonna cum down your missus’s throat”

“be my guest”

Okie!

So I had this little thing in my mind where Tommy and the reader married because of business reasons and they know there never will be love, atleast the kind he had with Grace. But they still have a normal buisness-friends equation. And his wife is just a little sad drunk one day and she asks him what his mother's name was because she misses her own. And he, ofcourse, doesn't answer. And then after a few days he answers, outofnowhere maybe because no girl has dared to ask him that ever, when they are having a whiskey work-break in his office. And they exchange a split second soft moment idk.

P.s. I've read on a lot of places here on Tumblr that his mother's fictional name has been fixed as Bernadette. You can make up your own ofcourse. However you find it to work for you

Thank you, Thuraaa!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Lots of Love to you🌼❣️

First off, thank you sooo much for this request! I mean it's complex and detailed and I could write an entire 10k pic about this, but I loved just being limited to a short one. I used the information you gave me as background, most isn't mentioned in this short scene, but it's the context around it. I hope you like it and it does just a little justice to this beautiful idea you had :)

***

And there they were, sitting opposite each other, both whiskey glass in hand, not saying a word. You’d both been working and discussing business only minutes ago, and now you had decided to take a much-needed break together. The silence that accompanied it wasn’t unusual. “Now, why would you ask about my mother?” Tommy stated after a while, referring back to a drunken comment you had made a few days ago. Apparently, it’d been on his mind. You thought about it for a second. Honestly, you had no idea; you were drunk and it had sort of slipped out at the time, “Curious, I suppose. You know I never knew my mother...” “I know,” he replied, and then the silence returned. You looked at him and felt a sudden tenderness for him. It wasn’t love, the two of you weren’t in love and never had been, and neither pretended to be. But it was a marriage for all the right reasons: sensible ones. But in this morning light, that shaded his face in an unexpected manner, you realized you felt an infinite amount of tenderness for this particular man.

“Lily,” Tommy said softly and suddenly, “her name was Lily.” And it fit. When your eyes met, you smiled at him and he almost smiled back. And in that sense, you understood each other. You looked down at your whiskey and started rolling it around a little in the glass, without actually taking a sip, “Tom, I think I’m pregnant.” “How,” he frowned, as if he could still be baffled by where babies came from. You smirked a little, “Don’t you remember Guy Fawkes?” “Yes,” he cleared his throat, “well, I remember the next morning…” “Once was enough,” you commented in your usual tone of common sense. “It often is.” “I’m not unhappy about it,” you tried to meet his eye, “are you?” And for a second he had to think about it, “You know, of all the women I’ve been with, I think I would trust you with my future the most. Our child will have a head for business, that’s for sure: a real Shelby.” “Does that mean you’re happy about it?” He downed his whiskey, “I am,” and he took your hand in his, with a softness unfamiliar to you, “Let me know if you need anything. My child, and the mother of my child, will want for nothing.”

“Polly tells me it’s a girl.” “She does, eh?” “I want to name her Lily.” Another long, but peaceful silence followed. Eventually he broke it,

 “Lily it is.”

theshelbyclan's 3k celebration

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

❤️= fluff

💜=angst

😈= smut

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

Cillian Murphy

You Have something on your Face (Cillian Murphy) ❤️

Welcome Home ❤️

Thomas Shelby

Only Mine 😈

Lost Connections Requested

Baby Scare

To Be So Lonely 💜

I'm Here For You ❤️

I Broke You, Let Me Fix You Requested❤️😈

What Did I Do? Requested😈

Royal Jewels 1K Celebration

It’s My Turn

Chelsea’s Garden (Ks 3k Celebration)

Melted Hearts (Requested)

Arthur Shelby

Drinking Games 💜

Soulmates ❤️

Runaway Princess ❤️

Runaway Princess: Family Meetings

Maybe So

John Shelby

Looks can be Deceiving ❤️

Risk Helping Requested ❤️💜

Snow Day 

We Will Protect You

Dizzy Spells

Alfie Solomons

Spitfire ❤️

Rainy Days❤️💜

Sibling Shelby's

Messing with the Peaky Fookin Blinders

Snowball Fights❤️

Family Matters Requested

Cast x Reader

Head cannon: BIPOC Author Reader

Peaky Bloopers

Peaky Bloopers 2: Electric Boogaloo

Other

Getting Caught (Shelby boys x Reader)💜

It's Twins (Shelby boys + Alfie x Reader)❤️

Mother Bear (Polly x Reader) Requested

Main Menu

Congrats! Could I please request “accidentally confessing feelings” with Javier Peña? ❤️

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration Thank you!!

“So, you ever going to do anything about that little problem?” Javier glanced at Steve, brow furrowed a touch. “What problem?” “The problem concerning a certain partner of ours.” Javier huffed, shaking his head and looking down at the file in front of him. “Far as I’m concerned, the only problem we oughta be discussing is taking down Escobar.”

“C’mon, man, there’s no one else here,” Steve scoffed a laugh, looking around the deserted office. “Have you got the Gowan file over there?” “Yes.” “...Can you pass it over?” “I will if you give me an answer.” “An answer to what.” “You ever gonna do anything?” “Why are you so set on this? I feel like if anything, you’d be against it. Fucking with the team dynamic, that kinda bullshit.” “I think we’d get a lot more done if the two of you stopped making googley eyes at one another.” “Shut up and hand me the file,” Javier grumbles. Steve hesitates before he nods, plucking it up and passing it across their desks. Javier snatches it, leaning back in his seat and flipping it open. “It’d never work,” He mutters after a moment, eyes set resolutely on the file. “What wouldn’t?” “Doing something about that…Situation. It wouldn’t work.” “Why not?” “You mean apart from the fact that we spend so much time together at work? C’mon, I mean, you see me more than Connie these days. And I don’t need shit to be weird when we’ve got so much else going on.” “I mean you don’t know—” “Steve,” Javier groans as he slaps the file down onto the desk, “She’s not interested.” “How do you know!” “Because I know. She’s too fuckin’ good for me, anyway. She deserves a guy that can give her all the attention and time in the world, not someone that lives…Like us.” “Well she lives like us, too. It’s not like she has a ton of time on her hands. Worse comes to worse, the two of you could just…See one another for breakfast.” “Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Murphy. I’m serious.” Javier sees Murphy’s eyes dart to the door before they land on him again. “So what kind of man should she be with? You know, just—broad strokes.” “I told you, someone with time. Someone who’s not in her face every day the way you and I are. Someone that understands the life she’s worth and can give it to her.” “So in a nutshell, not you.” “Not me.” Javier watches Steve tip his his to the side, eyes carefully set on Javier as he speaks up: “You agree with that?” Javier whips around to look at the door, heart pounding as he sees you standing there. Shit. He watches you take two steps in, and ask: “...Could I have the Gowan file?” “Peña’s got it,” Steve answers simply, turning back to his work. Javier watches you take a couple more slow steps toward him, holding your hand out. Javier gropes blindly around his desk and picks it up, holding it out. He swallows thickly as you take one step closer, just enough reach for it. “Thanks,” You mutter before turning and hurrying out of the office. Javier spins back around to Steve. “How long was she standing there?” “Dunno,” Steve shrugged, “I just glanced up and she was there.” “You couldn’t have said anything?” “We were in the middle of a conversation. If you go now, you can probably catch her at the elevator.” Javier spits out a curse, jumping out of his hair, leaving a smirking Murphy behind. “Hey!” Javier calls out, running down the hall. He sees you falter in your step before you turn to him, stepping into the doorway of the elevator to hold it there. Javier slows down as he reaches out, pushing out a pant, “I don’t know what you…I don’t know how much you heard back there.” “A bit,” You shrug. “About?” “About…Whoever you were talking about. One of your friends or informants or someone.” Javier’s heart thuds lowly in his chest as he swallows thickly. “Is that who you want it to be about?” He asks, raising his hands and resting them in the doorway of the elevator. “Well it was, wasn’t it?” “...I think you know who it was about, sweetheart.” He watches as you lower your eyes, dipping your head. “Don’t call me that, Javi. Not here.” “Where, then?” “...My place?” Javier watches you closely before he crowds closer, walking you back into the elevator and blindly standing the ‘Lobby’ button. He cages you against the wall of the elevator as it starts down. “If we do this,” He warns lowly, “We need to be clear about what this is. I’m not just

interested in one night with you—” “I know, Javi.” “And I don’t mean a long-term benefits situation. If that’s all you want, then I…I’m not gonna lie, I’d do it, but I want more for us.” “I know, Javi.” “I—I want all the shit I said to Steve and more—” Javier goes still as you surge in, gripping his shirt and drawing him in for a kiss. He melts against you, sliding one hand from the wall to curl around the nape of your neck. He sighs softly as you tease your tongue between his lips. The elevator dings and Javier reels back, straightening and watching as you loosen your grip on him. “...Your place?” He repeats quietly. “If you want.” “I want,” Javier reassures with a soft laugh, taking a step back to lead the way out of the elevator, “You have no idea.”

Hello I really love that one about Javi being scared about something happening to reader, it's so soft. What do you think about reader being kidnapped by the capo and Javier and the whole DEA trying to rescue her. THANK YOU 🥰

Birthday Bloodbath [Javier Pena x Reader]

Read part one here!

Read part three here!

Warnings: if you have any experience with kidnapping this is not the fic for you! I tried to make all descriptions as vague and go over the actual hostage part as quickly as possible but I wouldn't recommend you read something like this if you think it might trigger you. also food mentions, alcohol mentions, cursing, mention of blood, gore, injury, and death, intruders, drugs and drug cartels (other narcos related themes) very very scary situations.

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3k

Authors note: thank you for the request! I'm so glad you liked the first part enough to want a follow-up. I must admit, I did struggle with writing this as I'm not familiar with writing situations like this … but I was in my element writing the fluff at the start!!! I hope you enjoy. 

Masterlist • submit requests 

This was never supposed to happen. You had sworn to Javier that you'd get through this together. Javier had been foolish for believing the Capo and his cartel would have left you alone; and risk their entire distribution. Javier Peña was one of the agents who took down Pablo Escobar; and he was a force that shouldn't be reckoned with. Cartels all across South America knew of him and knew to be aware of him. The Capo wanted a bullet in his brain, but he knew that getting close to someone like Javier wouldn't be easy.

Since Escobar, Javier had gotten a brilliant promotion. He now has his own team behind him, not to mention his own security who would follow him around on his endeavours. It really helped ease Javier's anxiety, knowing that he had people on constant watch who would protect him, but more importantly, would protect you.

You didn't like it; all the fancy security following your every move. You'd visit the launderette just a few blocks away, and they'd follow your every move. But there was nothing you could do about it. They were under firm instruction by Javier, and there was nothing you could do that would change Javier's mind. He needed to know that you were protected.

However, on the day of Javier's birthday, things changed. Javier headed to work early that morning, claiming he could get his papers signed quickly and be home by around 4pm, having the whole evening and night to celebrate with him.

It wasn't often you got to spend time with Javier and since it was such a special occasion, you wanted to make it special. You had been planning for his birthday weeks in advance. Javi wasn't one for parties, and he had planned travelling back to Texas in a fortnight to see his family. It would be your first chance at meeting them. He told you over and over again, no parties. He just wanted a special night in the apartment with you.

But you had to surprise your boyfriend in some way. You had called up his old partner and one of his best friends, Steve Murphy and invited him over for the weekend. You knew Javi would love a few beers and a catch-up with Steve. Steve had called you yesterday morning and told you he had just arrived in Colombia. He was going to surprise Javier in work, on his birthday. You knew that, by now, Javi and Steve were probably together in the office, bickering like they used to. You just wished you could've seen the smile on Javier's face when Steve surprised him.

The beaming rays of sunlight woke you up later than expected. You found yourself wearing Javier's pink button down shirt, and a smile spread across your lips as you reminiced on the amazing night you had before. Ever since the incident with the capo, and Javi's injury, Javier has struggled to cope with it. He had gotten better at talking about his feelings, but it did initiate a certain trauma within him. You were, however, seeing improvements in his nature. Things were finally looking up for both of you.

Your smile grew when you picked up on the infused scent of laundry detergent and cigarettes. You'd much rather be in Javier's arms right now, but wearing his shirt was the next best thing. Merrily, you slipped into the kitchen, the hem of his shirt grazing your thighs. You checked the time on your wrist watch; it was 8:40am. Your security would arrive at your flat at 9am prompt. You poured out three glasses of orange juice for them and put on your favourite record. You decided on skipping breakfast, because you had a feast planned for Javier's birthday dinner. His favourite food was from this local Chinese take-out and you had arranged all his favourite dishes to be delivered to your house.

You didn't plan on leaving the house today, except to go to the bakery to pick up his birthday cake. You walked over to the closet to grab your balloons and streamers. You were going to wait until security arrived so they could help you decorate the house but you decided there was no harm in getting a head start.

Head deep into the closet, you swore you heard your front door open. You brushed it off, thinking you had probably just nudged something on one of the shelves. You clambered out of the small cupboard, hands full of decorations, and went to carry them into the kitchen. Just before you got there, you heard a glass clink against the counter. You thought it was weird, but maybe it was just security. Maybe they had arrived early and were helping themselves to the orange juice you had prepared. 

"Okay boys!" you shouted, juggling packets of balloons, banners, confetti, and streamers in your arms, being careful that nothing dropped to the floor. "We have a lot to do today. As you know, it's Javi's birthday and so-" you froze when your eyes locked onto the three men standing in your apartment.

They weren't your security, but they sure as hell had drunk your orange juice. Stood before you were three men, clad in military print overalls and gold chains. "Uhm…" you stumbled backwards slightly, dropping most of the decorations in your arms. "Can I help you?" you asked. You peered behind the three men and noticed the lock on the door had snapped off. These men were intruders.

The man in the centre, had jet black curly hair and he shot you a hungry smile. He stepped forward, caressing your arm and his smile only grew when you shivered under his touch.

"Who are you?" you spat when no one responded to you. "Why are you here?" 

"She's such a pretty little thing, isn't she?" one of the men purred, while the other nodded his head in silent agreement.

"Whatever you want… money? I can get you it just- please don't do anything stupid." you tried negotiating, something Javier had always taught you to do if you had ever found yourself in a situation such as this one.

The capo grabbed your throat with a sudden force and you let out a yelp. He pushed your chin up with his two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. "We were looking for agent Peña," the capo explained, a glint in his eyes. "But I think you might be the next best thing." he smirked, pushing you down to your knees.

You landed on the oak wood floor with a thud. "Tie her up." the capo commanded; and his two sicarios obediently followed his instruction, taking thick piece of rope and tying it around your wrists. You could feel it begin to graze and cut at your skin as you tried to escape from their firm grip.

"My boyfriend- if you don't let me go he'll kill you when he finds out about this. You don't want to get personal with Javier, I'm warning you." you said through tear filled eyes and gritted teeth.

"Actually, agent Peña got personal with us first, when he tried and failed going undercover to our headquarters. He thought we wouldn't catch on," the capo laughed. "He promised us he'd keep his mouth shut and we'd let him walk three. But we followed him home. We've been tracking your phone calls with him for months now. We know he lied to us. We know he's been seeing a therapist about what happened. We have cameras deployed out in the street… watching your every move. Looking into your windows…"

One of the sicarios nodded his head and took a swing of the orange juice. "Ooh sir, you should've seen her and agent Peña last night. I got it recorded-"

"What the fuck? You sick pervert!" You screamed, trying to scramble to your feet. It was no use. The capo kicked his foot into your back and you fell back down on your face. You groaned, trying to catch your balance when you felt something salty drip into your mouth. It was blood. Your nose was bleeding.

"Listen, if you just play along to with our little game, everything will be okay. Except for agent Peña of course… but you know, you still have a chance of making it out here alive!" the capo cackled, hysteria dripping from his tongue. "So when will your dashing DEA agent be home?" 

You shook your head, refusing to answer. Javier wouldn't be home for hours. Fuck, you really didn't know what to do. "My security will beat the shit out of you." you snarled, but felt so defeated knowing your threats were empty.

The capo let out another laugh. "Aw, she must think the security that we annihilated in the corridor would return from the dead to protect her?"

"Holy shit, you killed them?" you hissed in disbelief.

One of the sicarios held out a knife, stained deep in blood. He held it to your neck, wiping the blood of your security on your skin. You were out of options. You were so afraid. 

***

"Noonan still an ass?" Steve chuckled, lighting Javier's cigarette. Javi took a puff and nodded his head.

"Yeah, but she has her moments," Javier shrugged. "She's letting me get off work early today."

"Birthday privilege?" Steve pointed out and Javier nodded his head in agreement.

"It's been so good to see you, but I gotta head home to see my girl." Javier smirked and Steve wolf whistled.

"Yeah? How's she doing by the way?" Steve asked and Javier felt a blush creep upon his cheeks at the mere thought of you.

"She's good, she's good." Javier grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Never in a million years did I think my friend Javier Peña would actually settle down," Steve laughed and Javier nudged his arm playfully. "I owe Connie twenty bucks!" 

Javier rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette. "Come over later for a few drinks, yeah?" Javier pulled Steve in for a long awaited hug.

"I'd like that bud, I'll bring the beers." Steve replied and offered Javier a comforting pat on the back. "I'll see you later."

On the drive home, Javier completely forgot it was his birthday. His mind was just consumed with you— the love of his life. You were the only person who looked after him, cared for him, and were constantly at his beck and call. He chastised you for it and he told you that you did too much for him, but your compassionate nature truly meant so much to him.

After an amazing night with you, he couldn't wait to surprise you at home. He couldn't wait to pick you up and hold you in his arms. It was still morning, so it meant he could spend the whole day with you.

His excitement was cut short when he pulled up into the driveway of his apartment complex. He saw three black vans with tinted windows, and recognised them from his encounter with the drug cartel months ago. A knot tightened in his throat. Quietly, he hopped out of his own truck and entered his building. Making his way through the maze of hallways, his heart dropped when he found his three security guards lying dead against the walls outside his home, their blood soaking through the carpet.

Javier's instincts were to bolt inside your shared apartment and rescue you. He knew for a fact you were in danger— that they were in there, holding you hostage. But he had to think logically. They wanted Javi dead, and he didn't know what the numbers would be like.

Javier backed off down the corridor and took out his cell phone. "Hey Steve? Are you still at the Embassy? I think the cartel has y/n. I need your help. And call for the other agents; we need serious backup!" Javier explained a thorough plan to Steve on the phone, who promised Javier he'd be there within minutes. And Steve Murphy always kept his words.

While Javier waited, he looted the bodies of his security for any weapons they had possessed. He hid a gun under his pants and slid a knife into his pocket. When he saw Steve at the front gate, pulling up with a van filled with fellow agents, he offered him a nod of acknowledgement. This was where Javier's plan started. He was going in.

Javier had decided to play it cool and pretend like he didn't have his whole team behind him. He opened the unlocked front door yelling an unfamiliar "honey I'm home!". Javier never said anything like this and so he hoped, by hearing this, you would catch on that he had it covered.

His heart was racing in his chest when he caught a glimpse of you, tied to a chair wearing only his shirt. You had silver electrical tape around your mouth and blood that Javi prayed wasn't yours. Your eyes were puffy from your tears and fear prevailed through them. He muttered your name and hurried to your side, falling to his knees and taking out the knife from his pocket.

"You're okay baby, you're okay I'm here. I've got you." Your whimpers broke his heart. He sliced open the rope, releasing your hands. "How many are there?" he whispered into your ear. You managed to hold up three fingers and Javier gulped, starting to unbind your ankles when he felt a gun press in between his shoulder blades.

Javier removed his hands from you and raised them in a surrender position above his own head. Javier stood up straight and turned around to face the capo, gun now pointing into his chest. He recognised the two sicarios behind him from last time.

"Whatever you need, I can get for you." Javier promised, lowering his hand to the barrel of the gun and cautiously pushing it away from him. "I have money."

"What we needed was your silence… your honesty, agent Peña. And we needed that about three months ago."

"I didn't say shit to the DEA," Javier spat angrily.

"But you told her, didn't you?" the capo pointed his gun at you and you let out another frightened whimper, closing your eyes, petrified.

"You shoot either of us? It's life in prison. Your whole cartel goes bust. Don't make a mistake here." Javier just needed to buy a little more time….

"She told me it was your birthday," the capo chuckled. "How ironic. You were born today, you die today."

Just then, your front door burst off the hinges as Steve Murphy and an army of about 20 agents bolted through the tiny apartment, immediately shooting down the two sicarios and Steve held a gun to the capo's head. You could hear police and ambulance sirens outside as tears began to stream down your face. Your hope was cut short when the capo fired his gun.

You screamed as the pressure from the bullet knocked you off your chair and two the ground. He had shot right in your chest, just next to your collarbone. The pain was blinding and you curled your fingers into a fist. Another gunshot; and Steve had shot the capo down. Javier screamed your name and ran to your side, cradling you in his arms. He gently ripped the tape off your mouth and freed your ankles. 

"I've got you baby, hey stay with me. I've got you." he whispered, nursing you in his arms.

"Javi," you choked out, wincing in pain.

"Can someone get me a flannel and there's a first aid kit under the bathroom sink!" Javier cried out, his voice hoarse as his red hot blood coursed through his veins. "Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me. There's an ambulance outside. There'll be up here any minute."

"Javi… I love you so much." you sobbed. The pain was becoming unbearable and your eyes fluttered shut.

Javi cupped your cheek as one of the agents passed him a flannel and the med kit. He began to apply pressure to your wound. "Stay with me, stay with me angel. I love you."

Your breathing began to hitch and Javier was so afraid he was going to lose you for good. He was going to lose the love of his life. If anyone was meant to be shot, it should've been him. He cursed himself. It should've fucking been him.

Paramedics raced over to you and pulled Javier back. "Be careful with her." Javier exhaled, his hands shaking as Steve steadied him.

"She's going to be okay." Steve reassured his friends. "She's in good hands."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!):  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic

"This is all my fucking fault Steve." Javier cried, falling to his knees as his heart shattered into a million pieces. "This is all my fault."

NEXT PART

ASROARKE’S 2018 FIC RECS

Last year, I made a fic rec list of all my favorites from 2017, so I’m making this into a tradition! To me, there’s no better way to kick off the new year than to celebrate all the beautiful works that our community created in 2018. So, here is a list of my favorites from this past year. Each of these put a smile on my face and made the world just a bit brighter. So thank you... not just to the writers I tag in this post, but to all the fanfiction writers out there.

Don’t Wake Me, I’m Not Dreaming by @grumpybell

Rated: M | Chapters: 3/3 | Words: 56k+

He turns his head to the side to look at her, so Clarke mirrors him. They aren't touching, but they're lying close, fingertips nearly brushing. The moment stretches out, spanning centuries in just a few breaths. Anything is possible here.

He links his pinky with hers, a point of contact. An anchor.

a Bellarke Modern AU in which Clarke has the ability to visit other people’s dreams and Bellamy… is kind of a special case.

I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees by @enoughtotemptme

Rated: E | Chapters: 5/5 | Words: 35k+

Clarke Griffin was born in space, where her life had been mapped out for her: become a doctor like her mother, be a dutiful daughter and friend, match with a partner and have a child, so the human race could continue to live.

It had been an easy life to contemplate, because there were no choices. There was only one path for her to follow, and only one life.

Being branded a criminal and being sent to the ground changed all of that.

Finding out there were people alive on earth changed it all again.

Suddenly she was free.

Suddenly she was faced with thousands of choices, very few of them easy or simple.

Except one.

Inspired by an anonymous ask from three years ago. Season 1 Canon-Divergent Grounder!Bellamy AU.

Guy in Your MFA by @bettsfic

Rated: E | Chapters: 13/13 | Words: 42k+

Clarke, failing to get into med school, accepts an offer into a creative writing MFA instead. So far so good, except there’s this writer in the program everyone keeps talking about like he’s some kind of prose god. When she meets him, she assumes he’s going to be a pretentious asshole. She’s ready to hate him. She wants to hate him.

But then he ends up being actually kind of a nice guy.

And she may or may not fall stupidly in love with him.

I Hear You’re Somewhere In the Sand by @ponyregrets

Rated: E | Chapters: 2/2 | Words: 21k+

Bellamy knows that the best way to deal with his plus-one for the company cruise breaking up with him would be to just tell his boss that he's not bringing anyone after all, but his boss seemed so happy that he finally had a girlfriend, he'd really rather not.

He was hoping Raven would just come with him, but when she tells him her ex-boyfriend runs an escort service and could find him someone, well, that works too, right? He could use some professional help.

I’ll Give You That by @youleftme-clarke

Rated: E | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 6k+

Clarke wants to know what sex is like. Bellamy offers to show her. Feelings happen.

I'm bad at summaries but this is super soft/mildly praise-kinky Bellarke PWP. The dirty talk is very real. It's also the filthiest thing I've ever written, so there's that.

Lost & Found by @tracylorde

Rated: G | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2k

Alex said: alright which one of us is gonna write the fic where bellamy goes off on a tangent to Clarke about someone not returning his book (probably Murphy) years ago and leaving him with an incomplete set, and then Clarke helps him get the book back (while high key falling in love with his nerdy self, or maybe she had been in love with him all along???)?

...so I did :)

when there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire by @octannibal-blake

Rated: M | Chapters: 7/? | Words: 32k+

The first time she meets Bellamy Blake, he's spitting blood into a dirty bathroom sink somewhere on the outskirts of Polis. Or: the angsty bellarke boxing fic literally no one asked for. 

of flight delays and tinder matches by fathomless

Rated: NR | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 1.5k

Inspired by the tweet, "My flight was delayed 3 hours so I was doing what any human does when they're bored. Minding my own business swiping through tinder & the guy behind me goes 'ouch hard no for that one?' And I turn around ONLY TO SEE THE MAN I JUST SWIPED NO ON RIGHT BEHIND ME HAHAHA"

the land was godless and free by @hawthornewhisperer

Rated: M | Chapters: 4/4 | Words: 16k

Wind ruffled his hair and Bellamy watched the countryside slide past. Acres of corn stretched all the way to the horizon, broken only by fences and the occasional lone farmhouse. Farther south the farmland had turned to dust, but up here, they were still plodding along.

It felt like that’s all the country had been doing for the past four years— plodding along. Bellamy had tried to make do at first, but the factory shut down for good two years ago and with it went the last available jobs nearby. Bellamy was forced to leave Octavia in Indra’s care and set out, looking for whomever would hire him.

Turned out, thousands of other men had had the same idea. So Bellamy became one of a roving band of men who moved from town to town in search of work. They traveled by the rail lines, and some had come to like it too much, in his opinion. Those men clumped into groups and he had fallen in with one at first but quickly learned to steer clear, their naked greed and viciousness turning his stomach.

Now he traveled more or less alone, watching for his stop out the open train car door on a cloudless, searing day.

Set The Dark On Fire by @talistheintrovert

Rated: T | Chapters: 3/3 | Words: 48k

Clarke isn't coping well with peacetime on the Eligius ship, and while Bellamy has woken some of the others (mainly spacekru) and tries to organise a trip to the ground, making decisions and considering all the variables, Clarke makes a choice of her own:

She'll take herself out of the equation.

OR: the post season 5 idea I had to write because all of the unresolved emotional turmoil this season is actually killing me and someone needs to notice that Clarke is in pain, for the love of god.

les rêves amoureux by @eleanor-sheleanor

Rated: E | Chapters: 1/3 | Words: 3k

“The water makes you sick?” Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow. The man from Eligius IV shook his head.

“Not physically sick. But it might give you hallucinations."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bellamy drinks water from another planet and has a sex dream which is .... vivid, to say the least.

hii can I get whiskey w Steve Rogers for oral/face riding?

Adjusting.

warnings - smut. cursing.

nomad steve makes me feral. that's all. I was feeling this one.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

He's adjusting, to this new life.

He's shy. Taking it one day at a time. Reminding himself to breathe when things get overwhelming.

Soon, he finds his feet. Regains his confidence. Starts asking for things, setting boundaries, taking what he wants a little more.

He keeps surprising you. With his knowledge, new slang he uses, his ability to use a phone. He's a fast learner.

He's braver, now.

He's adjusting.

Trying to get used to the fact that women aren't as seemingly fragile as they were. They run the world more openly, now, and Steve loves it.

He loves you.

Tries to show you how much when he's got you between his sheets, kissing every inch of skin he can find. Gentle, tender, careful.

You tell him that you know he loves you, no matter what. He doesn't have to be so tentative. It doesn't change the way you look at him.

He's in a lust fuelled haze when he finds the courage.

"Sit on my face."

You choke on your breath, gasping for air.

"What?"

"You heard me, honey. Sit on my face. Now."

You've never seen him like this. Frayed at the edges, feral almost. His eyes are as dark as the wet spot between your legs.

You quirk a brow at him in challenge, but he doesn't back down. So you grant him his wish. Crawling up his body until you're hovering over his pretty face, deep gaze focused on you.

"Is this what you want?" you whisper.

"More than anything."

He's practically growling, voice lower and rougher than you've ever heard it. You owe a thanks to whatever has got him so riled up.

He tugs you down to his mouth with two strong hands around your thighs, grip hard enough that you know you'll bruise tomorrow. You can't wait.

You tangle your fingers through his golden blonde locks and tug, whining when he groans, from the depths his chest. The two of you are animalistic, finally tapping into the carnal desires that have been there all along.

You're practically riding the gorgeous ridge of his nose, reveling in the way his tongue slips inside and curls. He might not have much experience with this, but he's always been naturally gifted. He's one of those people that's good at everything.

He's groaning, humming, murmuring, enjoying this just as much as you are. Your hands almost splinter the headboard, skin pulled taut across tense knuckles. You're so close you can taste it, honey sweet and saccharine.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl. Come on my face, honey. Please."

It's the broken please that gets you, the desperation in his tone and the tightening grip on your hips. You see stars, dizzying and clear, blood rushing to your head. Steve doesn't let up, determined to see how pretty you look when he finally pushes you to your limit.

You collapse against his chest, leaning into his touch like a kitten. Rough fingertips trace patterns across your back, your arms, your hips. He's waiting for you to give him the green light.

You kiss him with force, tongue sliding into his mouth with no room for protest. You bite his lip and grin. America's golden boy. Lying under you with your come smeared across his face.

He leans up to whisper in your ear, rough tone filled with promise and mischief.

"I love you," he murmurs, tongue gliding across your neck. "Let me fuck you like I don't."

You've never been one to deny him. You're not about to start now.

He's adjusting, after all.

hiii congrats on 3.5k! I love your content!

idk if this counts as a 🌱baby blurb but I'm super curious what you’d do with this gif and tommy.

I haven’t stopped thinking about it for days🤧🤯

ok i have 2 answers: the obvious and the fluffy

tommy pulls away from your wet cunt to watch you writhe and quiver, and your hand strokes the back of his neck “you almost done?” he whispers and you nod, and he gently flicks his tongue along your throbbing clit, and you buck your hips up into his face and nod quickly

OR

his tea’s gone cold as he rearranges himself in his sleep, his face mashed against your thighs, and you gently rub your hand down the back of his neck and feel his smooth hair starting to grow back “aw, my big bad tommy… so sleepy, can’t even stay awake to listen to the radio” and he mutters “shutthefuckup” into your dress but nuzzles up into your hand

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hi! i'd like to ask for a whiskey with carmen berzatto with prompt m. Keeping the relationship a secret

thank you <3

Lovesick.

warnings - not quite smut, but a little smooching. cursing.

ah sweet carmen. thank you for this request <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Behind!"

Carmy's fingertips graze across your back as he walks past you, featherlight and barely there.

It sets your nerves on fire.

You carry on slicing the tomatoes, mentally willing yourself to calm down. You seem to turn into a teenager when Carmy's around, all giggly and jumpy.

"Time for you to take a break," a warm voice mutters in your ear.

"I've got like an hour before I need a break, Carm."

"I said, time for you to take a break."

He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, chuckling when he sees you shiver. To anyone else, it looks like he's just giving you direction.

"I'll meet you in the office in five," you whisper. He's satisfied with your answer, slinking off to wait for you.

You barely make it to two minutes before you're walking across the kitchen, gliding through the door and closing it behind you.

Two rough hands find your hips, pushing you up against the wall. Carmy smashes his lips to yours, using your startled gasp as opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling recklessly. Your leg hitches up around his thigh, desperate to get closer to him.

"You're all I can think about," Carmy whispers against your mouth. "Can't focus on a fuckin' thing when you're in the room."

You whine, tugging him back to kiss you again. You know this is risky. But you just can't help yourself.

"Come over tonight," you murmur. "Want you to fuck me to sleep."

He throws his head back and groans, gorgeous neck exposed and waiting to be bitten. You lean in and lick the expanse of it, tasting the salt on his skin.

Carmy brings a warm hand up to rest against your throat, smirking when you whine. He presses kisses to the spot under your ear, your neck, your collarbones. Just as he's trying to unbutton your shirt, the door swings open, scaring the life out of you both.

You shriek as Carmy jumps, light filling the tiny room.

"Well well well," Richie drawls, grin etched across his face. "What do we have here?"

"Is Carmy there? I need to ask him about-"

Sydney stops dead in her tracks, the corners of her lips curling.

"Does anyone else wanna come and fuckin' look?" Carmy groans, snapping at the two people stood in the doorway.

You hide your face in his chest, willing them to leave you alone. Or for the ground to swallow you up. Either works.

"Alright, alright. Let's leave these lovesick kids alone."

You never thought you'd see the day that Richie was your saving grace.

The minute the door swings closed, you can't help but break out into a fit of giggles. Carmy joins you, both of you crying tears of laughter.

Lovesick. He's probably right.

a whiskey with jax teller pleaseeee just him being a little shit during a hot sex bc hes jax ofc theres so little writing about him and yours is fuckin phenomenal <33

Relentless.

warnings - smut. cursing. jax and his filthy mouth.

you're so lovely - thank you!! this man's middle name is mischief. I just know he'd be a fuckin menace in bed.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Shhh darlin'. You don't want them to hear, do you?"

You wish he'd thought about that before he'd linked his fingers with yours and led you through the clubhouse, whispering something about having to have you now.

"This was- fuck- your idea, Jax," you pant, gripping the sheets beneath you.

He's got you practically folded in half, his body cloaking yours, weight pressing you down. He keeps tilting your chin up to look at him, slapping your cheek gently when you close your eyes. He wants to be your sole focus.

Little does he know, he always is.

"Oh, come on. Like you didn't want it as bad as I did."

He has this tone, when he's fucking you. It's low and it's menacing and it's rough around the edges. It's lethal.

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust of his hips, a surprised moan leaving your lips before you can stop it.

"You wanna get us caught? Huh?"

He thinks he feels you tighten around him, so he tests his theory.

"Or maybe that is what you want. I see the way you look at Chibs, honey. Do you want him to hear? Come and see what all the noise is about? Join in, maybe?"

You clench down, back arching at his dirty stream of thoughts. He chuckles, getting the exact reaction he wanted.

"Filthy fuckin' girl. You want your president and your vice president to fuck you together? At the same time? Talk about club bonding, huh?"

Jax grips your chin in between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His hips never cease their relentless rhythm, stars floating in your vision. You open your mouth, and he spits right into it, winking when you swallow.

His other hand moves to your throat, gripping lightly. The man knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Come on, baby. I wanna hear them, all the dirty little fantasies in that pretty little head of yours. Or maybe it's not Chibs? Who is it then, hmm? Juice? Happy?"

You choke out a whine, and he laughs, dark and mischievous.

"Fuck, you're squeezin' me so tight. It's one of them, isn't it? Which one, honey?"

You shake your head, tears forming at your lash line.

"Oh, I know. How about all of them? All four of us, passing you around, taking turns. How's that sound? Is that what you want, dirty girl?"

The thought sends you right over the edge, gasping for air as the heat licks up your spine. Your end is Jax's too, the low groan he releases vibrating both of your bones. He collapses on top of you, the two of you panting.

"You're relentless," you laugh, catching your breath.

"It's one of the reasons you love me so much," he chuckles, kissing you softly. "That, and the fact I have hot brothers."

"You're right about one of those things," you tease, squealing when he pinches your sides.

A knock on the door startles you both.

"Jackie boy, we have some business we need to attend to. That is, if you're not... preoccupied."

The familiar Scottish accent sends heat rushing to your skin. Jax notices.

"Be there in a minute, VP!"

You hear Chibs' footsteps as he leaves, breathing a sigh of relief.

"So it was Chibs, huh?"

"Like I said," you chide jokingly, smacking him on the shoulder. "Fucking relentless."

Can I get a whiskey with Frank castle and “I don’t deserve you” please?

Multi Talented.

warnings - smut. cursing.

haven't written frank in so long!! thank you for requesting <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Oh fuck, Frank."

You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, eliciting a groan from the man who's broad shoulders are keeping your legs apart.

"Shit, Frank. Just- I just - fuck, give me a minute to just-"

Your back arches off the bed as he sucks particularly hard, teeth grazing over your clit. You're panting, chest heaving, hands scrambling for purchase. You're not sure if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer.

He's doing this thing with his tongue, making it difficult for you to breathe. There are silver stars floating in front of your eyes, blurring your vision, shifting your reality.

The city outside hurries on, sirens and car horns soundtracking the night. The room is dark except for the light of the streetlamps, illuminating the shining purple bruise on Frank's cheekbone.

He pulls away to mutter under his breath, barely audible. You wouldn't hear if you weren't so in tune with everything he says or does.

"That's it, pretty girl."

"Atta girl. You got it."

"Yeah. Good fuckin' girl. So good f'me."

His low, raspy tone is what sends you over the edge, gasping as his fingers curl just right. You see salvation in your release, the universe white hot and blinding.

"Where did you learn to do that?" you ask breathlessly, relaxing back against the sheets.

"Told ya I know a few things," he chuckles, crawling up your body so you're face to face.

You kiss him eagerly, tongue slipping into his mouth to taste yourself.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

"Let me show you how much you deserve me," he whispers against your lips, strong hands gripping your thighs to part them for him again.

hiiiii🌻 if you haven’t already, will you do a headcanon for carmy? 🥺

Carmy Berzatto Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

ohh sweet carmy. I definitely romanticise him, because we've seen on the show he can be a nightmare in relationships. so, take these with a pinch of salt. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- Never gets tired of cooking for you. You feel bad, sometimes, when he offers to cook even after he's been at work all day. He reassures you one evening that he loves cooking for you, because it's different. There's no pressure. He can relax, and do what he loves most for the person he loves most.

- Terrible at DIY. The two of you always end up crying with laughter when you try and get a job done, because it always inevitably goes wrong. You're both determined to do it yourselves, though. You'll never call a guy.

- He's a commitmentphobe. Majorly. I think it'd be really hard work to get Carmy to ever really commit himself to you. It'd take time, and a hell of a lot of patience. But, once he does, he's fiercely loyal. He'd do anything for you, no hesitation.

- Carmy's awful at communicating. He's not good at processing his emotions, and ends up yelling. The first time you had an argument, you didn't yell once, which was a real turning point for him. You talked it out, and fixed the issue. From that moment on, he tries. He's not perfect, but he tries.

- Hates seeing you cry. It's his least favourite thing in the world. The minute you cry, his bottom lip is quivering, lump in his throat forming. You cry, he cries.

- Loves it when you pamper him. Happily sits with you while you apply your face mask, asks one day if you'll put some on him. You cuddle on the couch, wine in hand, terrible reality show on the TV. You do your skincare routine, and then do it on him too.

- Only trusts you to cut his hair. You don't have much experience, but you figure it out pretty quickly. He now refuses to go to a salon, begging you to do it instead. In the bathroom, stood between his legs, you trim his hair carefully, trying to ignore the way he's gazing up at you with those big blue eyes.

and now onto the sexy stuff...

- Doesn't stop talking during sex. He can't shut his mouth. He's got his lips pressed to your ear, murmuring the filthiest things you've ever heard.

- Lives to praise you. Sure, he'll degrade you if you want, but he loves getting to tell you how pretty you are, how perfect you look like this, how you're such a good girl for him.

- Loooves cowgirl. Loves getting to sit there all smug as you're on top of him. It's his favourite view. His favourite thing to do is sit up so you're chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you. Nothing beats it.

- Will fuck you anywhere. Kitchen counter, dining table, bathroom vanity, washing machine. Can and will bend you over the nearest surface. He's not a patient man.

- Gets off on eating you out. He's an expert in fine dining, after all. Loves when you grab his hair, tugging and pulling. He basically works himself to the edge as he laps at you. Has definitely made himself come by grinding his hips into the bed. He enjoys it just as much as you do.

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! <3

i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)

Let Him Watch.

warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.

my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.

Your brothers best friend.

The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.

There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.

You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.

You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.

"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.

It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.

"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"

"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."

Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.

You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.

"Sorry about the mess."

You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.

"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."

He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.

"Which one? Green or blue?"

He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.

"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."

You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.

Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.

His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."

You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."

"Steve, you're drunk."

"No drunker than you are."

He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.

"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.

He laughs, low and warm.

"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."

You scoff.

"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"

He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.

"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."

"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.

"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."

"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."

"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.

"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."

"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."

He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.

You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.

The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.

A harsh knock on the door startles you both.

"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"

"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.

"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.

You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.

"What?"

"You look so good in my clothes."

"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."

"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.

He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.