vviolynn - Tumblr blog

vviolynn · 5 months

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i've been on and off of tumblr, and I know I'm saying this late but i haven't opened up tumblr in a while but when i did I was thinking "imma check if murphy posted the next honey girl chapter!!" and turns out that in my notifs, you posted and tagged me in it just the day before. i was thrilled. i started reading half of it immediately but just now got the chance to read the rest.

but oh how i loved this chapter murphy!! it honestly made me smile so wide and sweet. i was honestly shocked when i realized they haven't said i love you yet. it feels like they've already said so in so many different ways, especially through their actions; they say so much alone.

(ps: sadly i forgot to listen to the playlist while reading it but maybe i'll reread it tomorrow just to see how much better it'll be while listening to that beloved playlist of yours :) )

i love your honey girl world, but even more, i love you murphy!!!

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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#honey girl #murphy!! <3

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vviolynn · 5 months

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me after opening tumblr to those spam porn bots posts when all i wanted to do was read a silly ass fanfic:

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vviolynn · 6 months

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dude this dove me mad in like the best way possible. i loved reading this, i genuinely want to hug Peter after that. oh and jsyk, your writing style? it’s something else, something beautiful. i love it. just, wow. <3

Hi I was wondering if i could request for Peter Hayes where they have a rivalry going on even though she’s super sweet and one day he gets doused with that memory erasing gas and she volunteers to look after him for the time being and while he has no memory he’s just really nice to her and confused and they fall in love with each other. And one day he somehow randomly gets his memories back but he pretends he doesn’t because he’s afraid she’ll leave him until he accidentally slips up and he has to confess that he’s in love with her and was afraid she’d leave him if he had his memory back and went back to his normal self please and thank you :)

ooh it has been WAYY too long since i wrote for divergent!! let's go

'missing link' - peter hayes

masterlist

The boy knows it shouldn’t be like this.

He feels– strange. Not right. It takes him a moment to realize that might have to do with the fact that he’s crumpled on the ground, and another moment to discover with startling unease that he does not remember ever falling. Nor does he remember what room he’s in, how he got there, or anything else for that matter. Where there should be memories, there is just a blank gray wash in his head, a slate wiped clean of countless experiences.

It should terrify him, the boy thinks, but for some reason, he isn’t reacting to it as he should. Never mind the fact that the boy is not aware enough of who he is to know how he should or should not react to things; finding oneself in a strange place with no memories is grounds for panic, regardless of who he was before all this. A strange calm persists over his mind nonetheless; it’s unnatural, like he’s been sedated or something. You know what that’s like, a voice whispers in the back of his brain. Who the hell is he to be familiar with such a thing?

Before the boy can make a decision as to what he should do, the sound of running footsteps right outside the door jolts him back to reality. Seconds later, a trio of people all dressed in varying shades of black skid into the room. They stare at him. The boy stares back at them. They all seem equally confused as to what is going on, which is weird because as far as the boy is concerned, he’s the only one with gaps in his memory. Surely someone here should have a clue.

One of the three newcomers steps forward, a girl with mousy brown hair. Her black t-shirt has a low neck which reveals a tattoo of three birds against her collarbone. “Peter, what the hell have you done now?”

The boy glances behind him, but there’s no one else in the room, so he assumes Peter is supposed to be him. “What?”

Bird Tattoo looks confusedly at her two friends. For some reason, the expression feels familiar. Maybe this girl spends a lot of her time unaware of her surroundings. It’s probably annoyed him in the past. “We heard a loud noise and wanted to see what was going on. Of course you’re here, that explains things. What did you do?”

“There was a noise?” Peter asks. He doesn’t remember hearing anything like that, but that’s hardly new to him by now.

Immediately, he knows it’s the wrong question. The confusion in the trio’s expressions shifts to genuine alarm. A new girl starts talking, shorter than the rest but by no means less unhappy with him. “Yeah, it was super loud. There’s no way you missed it.”

“Oh,” he says, because they seem to expect him to answer.

Short Girl furrows her brow. “Did something happen? You seem weirdly quiet.”

Peter peers up at her. “Why would you say that? Do I know you?”

Short Girl’s face flashes with anger, but when it becomes clear that Peter isn’t just messing around, her jaw drops. “Oh, no. I think he got into the memory gas.”

The third member of their trio has been silent this whole time, but the final man sucks in a low breath now. “That’s bad. That’s really bad.”

“Memory gas?” Peter prods hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Quiet Guy says, “I see one of the canisters has been tampered with. Your memory has been erased. It’ll probably come back later, but for now, you won’t remember who you are. Or any of the rest of your memories, for that matter.”

Peter stares at him. “Why the fuck would memory gas just be lying around where someone can stumble upon it? What kind of place do you guys live in?”

“You live here too,” Bird Tattoo interjects, “And besides, it isn’t just lying around. This room was locked, I think you broke in. This whole sector is off limits.”

“Then why are you here?” Peter points out.

The trio exchange glances again. “We have to do something about him,” Bird Tattoo says at last.

“Kill him?” Short Girl asks hopefully.

“I would prefer not that,” Peter interjects, earning him three identical glares.

Quiet Guy tilts his head to the side, thinking. “Stick him with someone else. Give him to Y/N. She knows him better than all of us, she’ll figure out something to do to get his memories back.”

Short Girl scoffs. “Yeah, she knows him because he hates her the most. I’m not so sure that’s the best plan.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Quiet Guy asks, and when both girls are silent, he takes that as his answer. “Alright, we’re taking him to Y/N. End of discussion.”

He offers a hand to Peter, who accepts the offer of help, although this only seems to make the three strangers more unsettled. Evidently, whoever Peter normally is with his memories intact, he doesn’t trust a lot of people. Given how shifty these three are, though, maybe that’s for the best. He follows the trio through strange, dark hallways and up flights of stairs until they’re in a long corridor lined with doors. Living quarters, his mind tells him, although he has no idea where that information came from.

Quiet Guy picks a door and knocks. A few moments later, a girl appears. “Hey, Four,” she says casually, “What can I do for you?”

Quiet Guy– Four, what a weird name– grimaces at her words. “We need you to babysit someone for us.”

“Hey,” Peter protests from the back of their little group.

The sound of his voice calls Y/N’s attention to him, and immediately her expression changes. Whatever friendly demeanor she had worn before is gone now, locked up behind a wall of unreadable blankness. “What’s going on here?”

Bird Tattoo glances behind her in the hallway, even though there’s no one there. “Can we come in?”

Y/N nods, holding open the door for them all to file into her apartment. Maybe he’s just overthinking, but Peter swears she looks at him the longest as he passes. The moment in which their eyes meet feels like it spans several years instead of just one second, but then she blinks and looks away to lock the door behind them and he’s lost his anchor, spinning out into a great sea of mystery once more.

Only once the door is locked and they’ve all moved comfortably away from hearing range of anyone still out in the hallway does Y/N return to them, arms folded across her chest, and ask, “What have you guys done?”

Bird Tattoo shoots a shifty look Peter’s way before speaking. “We found Peter down in some back hall. We think there was an incident with some memory gas. He has no idea who he is.”

Y/N’s jaw drops. “He doesn’t remember anything? Tris, tell me you at least took him to the med wing to get checked out.”

Tris shakes her head imperceptibly. “If anyone knew, they wouldn’t just ask Peter why we were down there, they’d ask us, too. It’s a restricted section.”

Y/N’s lips purse. “So you’re saving yourselves? Awfully brave, you guys. True Dauntless material.”

All three of them look guilty at that, which makes Peter decide immediately that he likes this Y/N girl quite a bit. Four speaks up at last. “He won’t be seriously harmed, I’ve seen this stuff used before. It’ll probably take a few days to a week before he regains all of his memories, but he won’t suffer any brain damage.”

Peter stares at him incredulously. “There was a chance I could have brain damage and you didn’t tell me? I’ll kick your ass the second I remember how.”

Y/N presses a hand to her lips to hide a smile. “That’s enough of that. Tris, Christina, Four, I’ll figure out what to do. You guys can go back to whatever breaking and entering you were doing before this.”

Short Girl, who must be Christina, places a grateful hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, honestly. We owe you for this.”

“You really do,” Y/N reminds her, and escorts the three of them to the door.

Once it’s just Peter and Y/N in the room, silence descends upon them both. Peter isn’t sure if he should be speaking or not; he doesn’t remember enough about himself to know if he’s a talker, so he waits to say anything until Y/N walks back to him.

She glances over him for a second, then sighs. “I’m going to do a medical check. I can’t believe none of them bothered to do one. I think Four was right, you’re not injured, but it can’t hurt. Do you remember how you were exposed to the memory gas?”

“No idea,” Peter says truthfully. “All I know is that I woke up on the ground with no idea who I was.”

She stares at him for a moment, then nods slowly. “You really are different, aren’t you?”

Peter cocks his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean?”

She laughs, although it’s not a happy sound. “The Peter I know would never admit a weakness so freely. You’d answer that question by threatening to stab me. Certainly not with the truth.”

Peter wrinkles his brow. “I sound like an asshole.”

This time, Y/N’s laugh is more genuine. “You kind of are, but we all let it slide. You’re one of the best fighters Dauntless has. If you talked as much as you do without any skill, we’d beat you up for it, but you can back up your sarcasm. Doesn’t mean we don’t try to fight you anyway.”

Peter watches as she retrieves a medical kit from a cabinet, then has them both sit down opposite each other so she can shine a light near his eyes and see how his pupils respond. “What kind of place do we live in if we fight each other all the time? Is this a military base or something?” Peter asks.

They’re close enough that their knees are touching, which is a strange thing for him to notice, but he gets the feeling that his brain is used to looking for small things like this when it comes to her. His mind automatically focuses on the soft pressure of her hand against his temple like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.

“Something like that,” Y/N answers. “Our city is divided into factions. You’re in Dauntless. We’re the brave ones, the fighters. We keep everyone else safe, but mainly we just try to prove ourselves to each other over and over again.”

There’s a bit of resentment in her tone, which Peter latches on to immediately. “Do we prove ourselves to each other?”

She huffs out a quiet laugh. “Constantly. In order to make it into the faction, you have to go through initiation, which is intense. We were always the top two, always switching off for the top slot. Four led our initiation, he said he’d never seen two people so close. We graduated last year, but you’ve never let go of our rivalry.”

“But you have?” Peter asks.

She shrugs, clicking off the flashlight and returning it to the med kit. “I don’t really care. I’ll fight you when you challenge me, but it doesn’t matter like it did in initiation anymore. You’re no longer an enemy. You seem to think differently, but that’s just my opinion.”

“Do we not see each other anymore? I thought we would have been friends. Isn’t that why the Stiff brought me here?”

Y/N arches a brow. “Interesting nickname to use. I thought you didn’t remember who they were?”

Peter pauses, frowning. “I don’t. It just came out, I guess. What does it mean?”

“It refers to Tris’ home faction, Abnegation,” Y/N responds at last. “You often tease her about it.”

Judging by the sour note in her voice, Y/N isn’t a fan of that. Peter makes a mental note to not do that again. He hadn’t meant to, really, it had just slipped out. Probably like muscle memory or something. What Y/N had said about their rivalry sounds familiar, just like the stuff about Dauntless. It’s like everything he knows is being held behind a massive wall. Peter can catch glimpses of it through chinks in the foundation, but he cannot see it all. Not yet.

Y/N stands up, looking away from him. “You should get some rest. I don’t know if you know the way back to your quarters or where you put your key, so you can crash on my couch if you want.”

Peter frowns. “Is sleep recommended after being subjected to memory gas?”

“Yeah,” Y/N comments wryly, “but mainly, it’s the middle of the night.”

She pulls the shades away from her window to prove her point. Peter glimpses a dark midnight sky outside before the blinds fall against the glass again. Strange, he’d had no idea it was nighttime. The dark halls of Dauntless made it impossible to judge the time of day.

“Sorry for keeping you up,” he says.

Y/N’s expression softens when he apologizes. Again, he gets the feeling it’s not something the other him did all that often. “You didn’t know,” she says at last, and disappears into a room that must be her bedroom. As the door shuts behind her, it occurs to Peter that she never answered his question, the one about if they were friends or not. He doesn’t think so, not based on her description of their rivalry, but wouldn’t she have just said that they didn’t hang out, then?

Peter feels so keyed up after the memory incident that he’s certain he won’t be able to sleep, but he’s hardly closed his eyes before unconsciousness pulls him under. He dreams of dimly lit hallways and large rooms with high ceilings. There’s a girl there too, she’s laughing with friends. Peter wants to be in that circle, making her smile like she is right now, but he somehow knows deep in his gut that she won’t want him there, so instead he asks her to fight, or he says something cruel as he passes. It isn’t right, but it keeps her looking at him, and a curl of something hot up his spine tells him that’s worth it anyway.

The wrongness of it torments him all night. When he wakes up, the brief ghost of her hands floats before his eyes, but it vanishes in moments, and a matter of minutes later Peter finds that he cannot remember a single thing he dreamt of all night. For some reason, this absence hurts him more even than the greater loss of everything else he knew.

Peter had hoped that his memories would return when he woke up, but this is not the case. He tells Y/N as much when she appears out of her bedroom, but she just shrugs and tells him that memory loss patients usually take longer to remember everything. He’ll probably start recalling bits and pieces, but nothing major, not yet.

They decide to leave the room and go to Peter’s place so he can grab some clean clothes. Hopefully, the familiar place will jog his memory, but seeing as it took like an hour for Peter to remember that he put his door key in his back pocket, the odds are slim.

They walk together down the halls, Y/N murmuring the names of people they pass under her breath if he’s supposed to know them. It’s going great until they round a corner and find themselves face to face with a tall, imposing man who makes Y/N’s face slacken with panic immediately.

The man stops when he sees the two of them. “Peter, Y/N. Good to see you two up so early this morning, there’s lots to be done. Peter, were you going to check out the security division today? They say they’ve fixed their camera issue, but I’m not too sure I trust them to do it properly.”

Y/N’s back is perfectly straight, and the only sign that she’s uneasy is the slight widening of her eyes when the man asks them a question. Peter keeps his expression neutral, and an answer appears on his tongue before he even thinks about it. “Not today. I think I’m actually going to shadow Y/N, I want to see the new trainees for myself. The cameras should be fine to delay a little, Max, I supervised their installation just a few weeks ago.”

Y/N blinks in surprise. She’s not the only one confused by Peter’s quick response, he has no idea where that came from, but the man– Max– seems to accept it, so that’s all he can ask for. They part ways soon enough, and once Max is out of earshot, Y/N turns to Peter.

“What was that about? Since when do you remember his name? Or my job?”

“I don’t,” he argues, “It just came out, I don’t know. What do you do with the trainees?”

“I lead initiation. Took over after Eric Coulter decided to switch careers to pursue faction leadership in earnest. I met Tris and Christina because they’re our year, but Four and I teach the trainees together, which is probably why he suggested coming to me instead of anyone else.”

For some reason, hearing this sends a sour spike of resentment through Peter’s gut. “So Four is the reason he sent me to you? Not the two of us?”

“Who knows why Four does anything?” Y/N grumbles. “Could have been anything.”

It’s not really the answer he wants, but he’ll let it go for the time being. “Wait, when do you have to lead the trainees? Are you late?”

She shakes her head as they continue walking. “Four takes them in the early morning, I join them later in the day. I’ll probably head over in an hour or so, but I want to get your quarters sorted out first.”

They reach Peter’s apartment soon enough, but it doesn’t trigger any cascade of memories. He just stands there in the central room and the first thought that comes to his head is, it feels empty. Y/N’s place had seemed more alive, but maybe that’s because she was there.

“Can I stay at your place?” Peter asks suddenly, “I don’t know if something will happen and I don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

Y/N’s brow furrows, but she nods. “Sure, no problem. Just until you get your memories back.”

“Of course,” Peter agrees, but he swears that it feels like a lie as he says it.

After changing clothes and grabbing some stuff to take back to Y/N’s, they head back again. The journey is easier this time, Peter feels less lost. He remembers the turns and doors of the Dauntless complex faster than he had before. Maybe Four is right and everything will come back over time, but progress is slow going at the moment, and he can’t help but wish it would be faster.

Soon enough, Y/N’s leading him out again, this time to head to initiation. Peter mainly just lurks in the back of the room, pretending to be observing the students as Y/N leads them through some sparring drills. Four is there too, and they exchange some silent glares before Y/N comes back to Peter and he pretends like nothing had been the matter at all.

They walk together, taking a slow lap around the training room. Every now and then, Y/N will call out advice to a pair or shout at someone to stop messing around. Once they complete a circuit, she pauses for a moment, watching the two initiates who were scheduled to fight first in the ring. They both seem evenly matched, and if Peter were to wager a guess he’d say that they’re probably among the top few trainees in the rankings.

Glancing back at Y/N, he notices that her eyes have gained a far-away look. “What’s on your mind?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head slowly, a half-smile rising to her lips. “Nothing. They just remind me of us.”

As Peter watches, one of the initiates manages to throw the other to the ground and pin them there. They count to five, and then the other initiate taps the mat to yield. The winning trainee releases their opponent, and they both crawl off to their respective groups.

Peter cocks his head to the side. “Did we ever let each other go so easily after a fight?” He has faint memories of punching someone until they stopped moving, of pleas for surrender being ignored. Peter has the faint and nauseating idea that he might be a terrible person. No wonder Y/N had looked upon watching over him as a burden. No wonder they all did.

“Never,” she whispers back. “Neither of us walked away unless we were both bloody.”

“That’s because you were the only one who was willing to go all the way,” Peter argues, although strangely enough he doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. Instead, past him is reaching through his mouth to speak it, totally ignoring whatever Peter’s plan is now.

Y/N looks at him, startled, but whatever memory Peter had briefly encountered is gone, and he stays silent. She does too, and when they leave training that day, Peter cannot be sure if the outing was good for either of them.

Peter crashes on her sofa again that night. He’s not entirely sure that he really needs to stay there, but the thought of leaving her to go back to his empty apartment is immediately shut down by his brain, so he decides against it. He has another dream of something, something important, but again, he does not recall it when he wakes. His cheeks are wet when he opens his eyes, but he doesn’t remember crying. There is a lot that he does not remember.

It’s still early when Peter wakes, so he has time to pull himself together and get changed before Y/N comes out of her room. Once she’s up, she makes breakfast for them both, and they stay out on her pathetic excuse for a balcony while they eat. It’s really no more than a glorified fire escape, but there’s enough room for them both, so it’s good enough for now. They’re leaning against the wall of the building. Their shoulders touch listlessly. It nearly destroys him.

The days repeat like skipped tracks on a broken record. They wake, they stay together, they sleep. Y/N relaxes around him more and more; it kills him that he is someone she would have to fear, but he’s getting the feeling that there is no one to blame for that but himself. Peter remembers a little more every day, but not enough.

And then one morning they’re both up at the same time, and the windows have been flung into let in the warm, rosy light of dawn. Y/N is laughing at something he said, and it occurs to Peter that this is perfect. That she is perfect. That maybe he doesn’t ever want his memories to return, because when that happens he’ll have to go away, and Peter doesn’t want this to end, not ever.

Perhaps his mind has a sick sense of humor, because it’s only when Peter discovers that he doesn’t want his memories that they finally break down the wall and surge back into his mind. He almost doubles over from the force of them, a million words and pictures swarming his head. His name is Peter Hayes. He was born in Candor but chose Dauntless in his Ceremony. He’s one of the best they have, on a fast track to being a faction leader. Everyone here is terrified of him, and those that aren’t afraid hate him more than they hate the devil or death itself.

There is only one person who does not check those boxes, and that is Y/N. Peter knew it from the very first day, and when he couldn’t make her fear him, he started up the rivalry, but even that wouldn’t make her hate him. He could never make her break, but he tried. It twists his stomach to think of how he tried. At the end, she was the one who won, and he left initiation realizing that he would never be able to let her go until the day he died.

He attempted to forget her, but nothing worked. He even got a job far away from initiation when he heard she would be a training leader because he had to cut her out of his head in every way that he could. The scalpel is bloody, but the obsession is rooted deep, it keeps growing back. One night he realized that he loved her, and that was the point of no return.

Peter Hayes does not fall in love. He is cruel and calculating. That’s why Dauntless needs him like a shattered bone needs to destroy every bit of muscle and sinew around it. Peter knew that he had to fix his heart before it fell even further, so he slipped out to the sectors of Dauntless where no one was supposed to go except the faction leaders. He knew how to cover his tracks, he’d tampered with the cameras ages ago when they were set up and he could freeze the live footage whenever he wanted. No one would have been there. No one would have known.

No one would have seen him when he slipped inside. Peter knows Dauntless got a shipment of memory gas a couple of days ago. He knew where to find it, and he knew that only a little bit would be enough to make him forget that his feelings for Y/N had ever existed. All it would take was one breath of the stuff, and then it would be over.

It hadn’t been that easy, though. The canisters were unwieldy and difficult to operate. There had been a problem with opening them; Peter had unscrewed the valve more than he’d thought and it had all come out at once. He remembers barely being able to close it in time, and then the effects of the gas had pulled him over and he’d crumpled to the ground, knocking over a few boxes while he was at it. The sound had alerted the other intruders in the area, namely Tris, Christina, and Four, and then he had lost the last of his memories and woke up with no idea who he was.

The reality of it all makes his mind reel. Peter had known it all this time, but it had been kept secret from him by his own mind. He has always loved her, and the truth of it was more than he could handle. He’d tried to separate himself from Y/N by using the memory gas, but that had just flung him more decisively in her path.

He straightens up slowly. Peter isn’t sure how long it had taken for his memories to return, but it must have shown in his appearance, because Y/N is starting to look at him strangely. “Everything alright, Peter?”

She’s asking about him. She genuinely cares about how he’s doing. This never would have happened before. It won’t happen again if she thinks that he’s back to whoever he was before the memory loss. Peter has to cover his tracks perfectly, then, and what that requires is a perfect lie. Fortunately for him, he’s got more than enough experience in that field.

“Yeah,” he says smoothly, “Just swallowed water the wrong way. I love nearly suffocating to start off my mornings.”

He expects her to laugh as he says it, like she usually would, but instead her eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”

Peter stares at her. “No, I’m not. In what world was that a lie?”

“In your world,” she argues. “It was too easy. You never admit things about yourself that freely. You can lie perfectly, but you don’t know how to be honest. It unsettles you. Now, tell me. What happened?”

Peter stares at her, and she meets his gaze steadily. This is it, then. This is the end. She won’t want to be around him anymore, not once she knows that the burden of watching over him is no longer her responsibility. “I remembered,” he whispers at last, “I remembered everything.”

Her eyes widen. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Peter confirms. “Every time I hurt you. Every time you tried to be kind to me and I shut it down.” His voice cracks on the last syllable. “Why’d you let them stick me with you if I was this terrible to you all this time? I have been awful to everyone around me.”

“But you weren’t,” Y/N says quietly. “Not to me. Not now. You’ve been nice this whole time. I thought that would stop when you got your memories back, but it didn’t.”

A brief pain flashes across her eyes, and then she clears her throat, studiously looking away. “I suppose you’ll want to leave now. Do you know why you lost your memories, or was that just an accident?”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Peter tells her on impulse. “I wanted to forget that– That I loved you, Y/N. I knew it and it nearly killed me, knowing you’d never feel the same way. I tried to make myself forget it so I wouldn’t have to hurt like that anymore.”

Y/N’s gaze snaps back to him. Her eyes are wide, and when Peter slowly walks closer to her, he thinks they’re both waiting for something, some great sign that what they’re doing is right. When he kisses her, he knows it’s right. He knows that it’s all he’s ever wanted. As it was at the start, so it will be at the end: the two of them until forever.

requested by @tianna8320, i hope you enjoy!

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#peter hayes x reader #peter hayes imagines #divergent oneshot #divergent peter x reader #divergent peter hayes

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vviolynn · 6 months

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someone: what are your turn-on’s?

me:

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vviolynn · 6 months

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Stop wanting people who don’t want you you dumb dumb

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vviolynn · 6 months

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alright is better than bad ain’t it? but i’m happy to ask because in the end i do care yk? <3

i wish i could say i’m doing well, i haven’t been the best but you could say i’ve been good enough. lack of sleep, a few frustrating assignments, etc. it’s hard to juggle it all especially with the horrible habit i have of procrastination.

i’m happy to know you noticed my absence, and again, i missed you, and i’m excited for your birthday! (mine is coming up too in about a month :D)

hey bella, again, i’ve been offline for a while, i wanted to check in with you and see how you’re doing ^^!! miss you sweets <3

hello!! i’m doing alright, thank you for asking! 🩵 your absence was definitely noticed, i hope you’re doing well, aura!

#love you sweets #<3

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vviolynn · 6 months

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so rude that fantasizing about writing alone is not enough to actually get the fic done. you have to actually sit down and write it. insane.

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vviolynn · 6 months

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i’ve been offline for a while so when i decided to check your acc and see how you’re doing as well as read some of your work, i was blown away, once again, by this. bucky is so sweet and it’s portrayed how much of a gentleman he is here and i love that, also i love that you incorporated his long hair here, i love his long hair, makes the story much better when imagining it 😭❤️

i’ll never get tired of reading your works bella, never. <3

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles.

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended.

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon.

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section.

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim.

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward.

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure.

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too.

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get.

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there.

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen.

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned.

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you.

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess.

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more.

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy.

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume.

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together.

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house.

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together.

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights.

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house.

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen.

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt.

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past.

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again.

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too.

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback.

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him.

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased.

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh.

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess.

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill.

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid.

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself.

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled.

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did.

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless.

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer.

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically.

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed.

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another.

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves.

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs.

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him.

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you.

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips.

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you.

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off.

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core.

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower.

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved.

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit.

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted. With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock.

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end.

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more.

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.”

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

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