I will use it soly for reblogging story's and stuff like that. 💜
Because all the talented writers on here deserve more recognition. 🫶
!!! Please be warned that some stories may be 18+ (not everything). You are responsible for your own media consumption. So please check out the warnings.!!!
#feli's tbr is for fics I still have to read
#feli reads is for fics where I still have to comment on
Summary: The story of the librarian at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and the Wolverine.
This is a female reader insert. The reader is sometimes mentioned with glasses on, no other physical descriptions are made.
The librarian has these powers:
Bibliomancy: information perception through books. You can instantly understand and retain any written material-- in any language-- just by touching it. You can even see the emotional imprints left on pages that have been handwritten. You're a living archive.
Living Index (Hyper-Categorization): You can mentally categorize and track the location of every item in your vicinity-- books, objects, and even people if you focus.
Notes: I DO NOT DO TAGLISTS. I just encourage everyone to follow and interact! I’m excited for this series! Likes, reblogs, comments and asks are encouraged and very appreciated!
Steve Rogers rails you raw on the boardroom table: An Odyssey
"If you don't stop talkin' back honey, you're goin' over this table." He sneered, tired of your strong - and incorrect - views on the Accords.
You scoffed and folded your arms. "Oh yeah, like you're gonna rail me in the middle of the boardroom Steve. I bet you don't even have anything with you."
He choked out a laugh. "Protection? That's cute honey. You really think I'll be needin' it?"
Your turn, hoes: @mercurial-chuckles @felicity-lemons-thoughts @muddyorbsblr @simplyholl @steve-language-rogers @rouge-vixen579 @alexakeyloveloki @mrs-elsie-barnes @peaches1958 @mochie85 @deviantredhead @loopsisloops @foxherder @dangertoozmanykids101 @cakesandtom @km-ffluv @acidcasualties @thegodofnotknowing ++ (if you want to be added to the casual tag list for hoeing, lemme know!! I always forget who is a Loki and who is a Steve gal)
You look at him pulling an eyebrow. Trying to hide the fact that you just ruined your panties, only from his words.
"Don't believe me?" Steve laughs darkly, coming closer. His broad body trapping you against him and the table. As he slowly leans forward and whispers in a low, dangerous tone. "You think I don't notice?"
You breathing fastens, looking up into his eyes. "Notice what?" You say, trying to redeem yourself. But your voice is only above a whisper. Steve chuckles, bringing his mouth closer to my ear, his hand softly brushing a strand of hair away. "Your smell. "
Your eyes widen at his, seemingly innocent words, and you press you thighs together.
Steve is having none of that through. His hands moves quickly, spreading your legs, leaving you open to him. He smirks and brushes his hand against your leg and slowly up your body as he asks. "You know how hard it is?" Frustration clear in his tone. "Do you have any clue how hard it is?" His blue eyes pierce into yours.
You shake your head. But Steve continues, "Seeing you like this" You feel his breath on your neck. "Smelling you." His hands rest barely above your waist. "It's pure torture, darling."
there had always been rumors about you and your lifelong friend anthony, but what if they were true now?
BENEDICT BRIDGERTON
THE MUSE | ♡️ ☽
benedict needs to practice female form. naked female form. and who better to help him than his lifelong friend?
YOU BELONG WITH ME | ☆ ☽
benedict is courting you but suddenly he starts spending more time with tilley arnold so you start spending more time with his charming brother, colin, oh and benedict hates it.
BODY IMAGE | ☆ ☽ x pregnant!fem!reader
your body was changing and you still hadn't gotten used to it. benedict goes with you to the modiste and he loves everything you hate about yourself
COLIN BRIDGERTON
SHOULD'VE SAID | ♡ ☆
colin finds out you're pregnant after you faint at your engagement party.
Welcome to the Smutty September Fest! Let's all bid goodbye to sweltering hot summers with a searing month of Smut Fest!
Thank you to each and every one for participating—whether you've submitted amazing stories, interacted through comments, likes, reblogs, or sent in requests and a ton of love my way. Thank you! I'm humbled by the love and appreciation you showered me with. ❤️
Do you want to participate? Check the: Smutty September Fest 🥳
Warnings: Mature content ahead. Minors Do Not Interact. Heed to the warnings in each story. Be mindful of the content you consume. If something looks like a potential trigger, please do not interact. Your peace of mind is more important than anything in this world. :)
Note: This page will be constantly updated :)
A Fucking Treasure by @winterarmyy
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x F!Reader
Word Count: 6k+
His Little Gem by @steviebbboi
Pairing: BandMember!Curtis x F!LeadSinger!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Grumpy Alpha Logan x Feminine Sunshine Omega by @rissararity
Pairing: Alpha!Logan x F!Omega!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
An Alley of Passion by @sosa2imagines
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Restless Hearts by @anika-ann
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Lovestruck by @saiyanprincessswanie
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: 1k
A Shot of You by @soelstress
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Unexpected revenge by @nekoannie-chan
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 693
Silent In the Library by @soelstress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Lines Crossed by @elixirfromthestars
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 9.3k
Can't Fight The Moonlight by @bigtreefest
Pairing: Jake Jensen x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
He's so 'daddy' by @buck-star
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Camaraderie by @buckets-and-trees
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Beauty Is Only Skin Deep by @soelstress
Pairing: Jefferson x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Going For The Gold by @soelstress
Pairing: Lance Tucker x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Timeless by @zaraomarrogers
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word count: 6.5k
Confessions of Mr. Grumpaholic
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 16k
Hide 'N' Boink
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Enlivened Mornings
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Unruly Burly Mr. Levinson
Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.9k
Besotted
Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Ablaze
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
His Fiore
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: ~9k
Berserk Captain Rogers
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count: ~2.6k
Wanton Affairs
Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader
Word Count: ~6k
****
Thank you! ❤️☺️🫶
Also, a few of you messaged me with some questions. I know it can be a bit overwhelming initially, but we all catch up eventually. Honestly, it's just been three months for me, gosh! Anyhoo, I listed a few terms if anyone is finding it difficult to follow. Feel free to ask me if you have any further questions. :)
The cool lingo list for new folks on the Tumblr block:
OFC: Original Female Character
OC: Original Character
DNI: Do Not Interact
F!Reader: Female Reader
All credits and support to the authors: @hesthermay @fandoms-writings @collaredsoldat @angelltheninth @buckybarnesandmarvel @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @mercurial-chuckles @tom-holland-parker @buckys-metal-arm @eufezco @buckys-wintersoldier @aquaticmercy @embbarnes @brunchable @gaysindistress
Summary: “Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come,” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth.
“Every. Time.”
Warnings: smut! language, hurt, exes to lovers <3
Notes: this is one of my fave oneshots i've ever written tbh. i really love the trope of people breaking up, because of xyz issue, and then the person with xyz issue actively works to resolve or change it, but with no expectation of reuniting, just because they want to be a better person. so ye, that's basically this whole fic lmao
Words: 15,849
You make a sort of doe-eyed blank expression as you listen, that makes your building’s security guard duck his head a little lower into your line of sight and wave his hand.
“Ma’am?” You blink suddenly, snapping out of your spiralling thoughts and focus back on the man’s face.
“Huh?”
He smiles sympathetically and repeats himself.
“I asked if you had anybody who might come stay with you tonight? Super said he can’t get a hold of anybody who can change your lock…” You sigh and look around him at your door, it’s lock busted and breaking through the wood of the door.
You’d arrived home to find it like that, although the cops the security guy had insisted on calling said that it looked like no thief actually made it inside, probably got spooked. Seeing as none of your stuff was stolen or out of place, you’d have said they were right.
You run a hand over your hair and sigh.
“Uhm. Yeah. Yeah I do.” You nod your head, not actually coming up with a name off the top of your head, but you’re sure you’ll think of someone once you have a moment to breathe. The security guard nods.
“Do you want me to wait until they get here?” You smile and shake your head.
“Oh, no, no… it’s fine! I’ll be okay until then!” You assure him. You know he got paid for every hour he spent on the door, and not for any he didn’t.
He checks with you twice more before he leaves, and you shut your busted door behind him, slipping your side table in front of it in the meantime before you fumble through your bag for your phone.
You stare at your home screen for a solid two minutes, mind going over the people you’d feel comfortable calling, who you’d actually feel safe having stay with you overnight, and for the life of you, you can only come up with one name.
Unfortunately, this name belonged to your ex.
It wasn’t as if you and Steve Rogers hadn’t broken up amicably, or at least, you hadn’t ended badly, but for a moment you debate with yourself on if you really need to call anyone at all. You think about sleeping, knowing your apartment door was basically open.
You bring up his contact.
The first thing you see is a list of past calls and texts, the date signalling that the last time you’d called him had been almost seven months ago, and for a moment your eyes linger on that.
Seven months? It hardly felt like it, really.
You and Steve had met through work. You worked in the forensics at Avengers Tower, and so you’d occasionally see each other when the team had lab work to be done. It had been a slow progression for him to ask you out, and when he had, the two of you dated successfully for an entire year. Things were always slow with Steve, due in part to his schedule making it hard to really get anything done. If he wasn’t on a mission, he was resting from a mission, and the times you did go out or see one another were a lot less than you would have liked.
It’s why you broke up.
Steve was a great guy, the best you’d ever dated, but his work was his first true love and honestly? You required more attention than he could give. You weren’t needy exactly, but when you made a plan, you tended to expect to follow through. Steve’s last minute missions, or his cancelling and rescheduling was understandable in his line of work, and if had only been every so often, you’d have been just fine.
But it wasn’t, and you weren’t.
And so… you’d broken up. You’d explained to him that while you really liked him, you just didn’t mesh well together. He’d been understandably upset, but had told you he got it. You’d parted on good terms, with only a residual sadness lingering behind. Even now, you felt a small jolt of angst at even seeing his name written. Really, Steve was your perfect guy, and if he’d ever been around, you might’ve been able to experience more of that perfection.
You shake your thoughts aside and tap the call button, bringing the phone to your ear and waiting as the dial tone rings out. You can’t help but chew your lip as you wait, anxiety beginning to well up.
What if he didn’t answer?
What if he was on a mission?
What if he saw your name, and then didn’t answe—
“Hello?” You nearly gasp at hearing his voice, seven months suddenly feeling longer than before and you swallow thickly to remember why you were even calling in the first place.
“Steve… hey, it’s uh, me…”
“Yeah, I… I have caller ID on this phone.”
“Finally switch from the flip, huh?” You can’t help but shoot back, smile covering your features when you hear his warm chuckle on the other side.
“Yeah, it was time to change things up… Is everything okay?” Maybe he can hear it in your voice, or maybe he’s just that confused as to why you’re randomly calling him at ten on a Tuesday night, but you hear a note of concern in his reply that makes you want to curl up into a ball.
“Um… not really, no… I got home a little while ago and someone had tried breaking into my place—”
“—What? Are you okay? Did they take anything?!” You chuckle awkwardly at his immediate worry.
“Yeah, no— I mean, yes I’m okay, no they didn’t take anything.” You assert, and can practically see him letting out a breath.
“Uhm… I do have a favour to ask though, and I wouldn’t call if I had anybody else, but—”
“—Of course, whatever it is, just let me know.” You let out a shaky sigh and swallow again.
“The lock on my door is busted, and my super can’t get anybody in to fix it until tomorrow… I just… really don’t want to sleep here alone, with a broken door…” On the other side of the line you can hear keys clinking, and feel your tummy flop in dangerous ways.
“I’m coming out now. You want me to stay on the line?” You could fall to your knees and praise every god in existence for the special kind of beautiful Steve Rogers was.
“No, I’m okay, I just don’t wanna be alone later…” You cringe a little at how that might sound like a proposition, but Steve only hums.
“‘Course. I’ll see you in ten.”
When you hang up, you stare down at your phone for a few seconds.
And then you promptly drop it, head whipping around your messy living-kitchen space and quickly get to work tidying it to a presentable degree.
—-
Steve arrives almost exactly ten minutes later, the light knocking on your door followed by his voice.
“Hey, it’s just me!” He says, and you hurry to slide your end table out of the way, your door pretty much swinging open by itself.
For a moment you can only stare at him, dark blue jeans, white t-shirt, brown leather jacket. He’d grown his beard out since you saw him last, thick and golden and groomed just right to hit you in the lady parts. He seems fixated on you as well, though recovers far more gracefully, eyes dipping to look at your splintered door and he whistles.
“When you said it was busted, you meant it huh?” He asks, and you laugh, a little awkwardly, pulling the door wider as you usher him inside.
“Yeah… cops said they must have gotten scared off before they got inside. None of my stuff is missing or moved.” You explain, closing the door behind him, and when he sees you move for the table, steps forward to help you, looking at your makeshift barricade up and down for a moment when you’re done.
“Good. That’s good.” You look up at him again as silence falls upon your apartment, and find he’s already looking back at you. Realising you hadn’t even changed from work yet, and you’d cried a little bit after discovering the break-in, you attempt to smooth your hair down and wipe any potential makeup from under your eyes.
“Jesus, I must look like a mess.” You sort-of apologise, trying to play it off with a chortle, but Steve shakes his head, smiling kindly.
“Not at all.” Is all he says, and you hate the fact the completely non-committal sentence makes your belly flop again.
“Oh, uh, can I get you anything? Coffee, tea? I think I have a six pack in the fridge…?” You gesture to your kitchen, but move for your fridge anyway, Steve shoving his hands in his pockets as he follows, shrugging his shoulders. You find the beer behind your salad, and pull it out.
“Well, I’m having one.” You tease, setting the pack on the counter as you attempt to pull a bottle from the plastic rings. Maybe you’re just too exhausted, maybe this particular plastic was just stronger than you, but it doesn’t budge and Steve steps forward, hands already out.
“Let me…” He offers, even as you let him take your chosen bottle from you, tearing it out as if it were nothing. It likely wasn’t, for him, and you swallow, the room feeling warmer suddenly.
“Thanks. Help yourself.” You nod to the pack, a little thankful he takes one too, placing the rest back in your fridge.
“I uhm, I might go shower and change, I haven’t even thought about that yet…” You gesture down at yourself again, and Steve nods.
“Whatever you need.” He tells you, and then points to your couch.
“Mind if I watch the game?” You frown, but nod anyway.
“Who’s playin’?” You both move over into your living room, and you quickly find and toss him your remote.
“Mets vs Giants.” He says, and you ‘ah’, watching for a moment as he flicks to the right channel, your eyes finding the score and you wince, turning back to him.
“Hope you don’t have any bets on your boys.” You say, faux-sympathy dripping from your voice. Steve gives you an unimpressed eyebrow, pointing at you.
“We’ll come back.”
“If it makes you feel better.” You tack on, but burst into a laugh as he rolls his eyes, making himself comfortable on your couch. You note with mild amusement he takes the same spot he would always take up, before you’d broken up. Apparently one of your couch cushions was just comfier than the rest.
You leave him there to go get cleaned up at last, and relish in the hot water as you do little more than just stand under it for ten minutes. Despite your stress from the past few hours, you feel oddly light, Steve’s sudden reappearance back in your life, in your apartment making you feel a little woozy, but only in a good way.
You try to tell yourself that it was only because your breakup had been so amicable, if he were any of your other ex’s you wouldn’t be feeling the way you do…
You dry off and dress quickly, throwing your hair up before stepping back out into the living room. Crossing your arms over your chest in some subconscious way of shutting yourself off to how damn good he looked, you take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, grabbing your beer again and tipping it back.
“Cops get the security footage from the hall?” He asks, one hand around the neck of the bottle he rests on his thigh, the other thrown over the back of the couch toward you, almost invitingly. You blink for a moment as you process his question and hum.
“Yeah. But it’ll probably get written off if the guy didn’t, you know, look straight into the camera or something. You know how they are.” Steve tears his eyes from the TV and looks at you with a frown.
“You get a case number? I’ll follow up tomorrow, make sure they—” Before you can really stop yourself, you cut him off.
“—Steve you don’t have to do that.” The blond shuts his mouth, and you can practically hear the words unspoken.
‘Because you aren’t my boyfriend’. For a moment you can both only stare, until Steve nods and looks away, his brow smoothing out as he relaxes, but the tick in his jaw tells a different story.
“Well, let me know if you need to…” You can’t help but smile a little, behind the rim of your beer, and you take another sip before turning back to the game.
The Mets make a comeback and you finish the night cursing under your breath. You weren’t a Giants fan by any means, but you made a habit of rooting for anybody going against the Mets.
Steve helps you pack away the light snacks and empty beer bottles, all the while wearing a smug grin, and you can’t even stay too annoyed. Smug and playful was always a good look on him.
As you put away the last of the rubbish, you yawn a little and check the time.
“I might head to bed… I’ll get you some pillows and stuff…” You announce, and ignore when he looks up at you in favour of making for the linen closet. You do however grab the pillow from your bed that you know he used to favour, and lay it all out on the couch. When you look up again, Steve is pulling his jacket from his shoulders, and laying it over the back of the opposite couch.
“Uhm, if you need to leave, could you just wake me up?” You ask, stepping back, and Steve frowns deeply, cocking his head.
“Leave? Why would I need to leave?”
“I don’t know… if you’re needed, I guess…” You shrug, shifting awkwardly and for a few seconds Steve’s face filters through a few emotions. Confusion, concern, offence, and then some sort of resignation.
“I— you know if you really needed me, I wouldn’t leave… right?” He asks, and you feel something stir in your chest. It isn’t exactly positive like all the other feelings you’d been having tonight, more like a sting of annoyance, of hurt and you purse your lips, shrugging again and looking to the side.
“I don’t know. You’re important, I’m sure people would need you a lot more than me.” You don’t mean to sound so passive aggressive, but you can’t help it.
He’d never made a point of making sure he’d be around before, the fact you even caught him on an off night is surprising to you. Steve’s brow dips and he opens his mouth, but you cut him off once again, pointing to the kitchen.
“Feel free to take whatever you want from the fridge, I’ll make sure not to sleep in too much… goodnight, Steve.”
You turn on your heel and don’t wait for a reply, shutting your bedroom door behind you. You know he can still hear whatever you do perfectly, so you don’t let out a sigh, or groan at your own fat-headedness, instead you switch off all your lights and settle under your covers.
In seven months you hadn’t felt out of place once in your room, but now, with Steve sleeping in the next room, your bed suddenly feels all too big.
—-
Strangely, despite your pass-agg comments, after that night you and Steve actually begin speaking again. At first it was just his texted check ups, making sure your door got fixed, making sure you were alright, making sure the cops did their jobs… it was sort of nice actually, to be friends with Steve again. He’d even shown his face down in forensics. You know his lack of attendance, Nat, Sam or Bucky showing up in his place, hadn’t been coincidental post your breakup, but the first day he shows up to deliver evidence for testing, you almost sigh at how much you’d missed seeing his face down there.
You actually think you become closer than you had been before, platonically that is. Steve doesn’t seem to make any moves toward rekindling your romance, and honestly? You were just fine with that. Steve was a great guy, but you couldn’t deal with his schedule… even if he did seem to be around more these days.
You don’t ask. You don’t even really think about it, instead chalking it up to good timing and coincidence.
You were wrong though.
Steve clinks the top of his glass with Sam’s as the man passes him his refilled drink, and the three men, including Bucky, settle back down around their seats on the Tower’s balcony.
“So, hey, can I ask you something?” Sam clears his throat some, and Steve cocks his head, gesturing for him to go ahead.
“You and Doc… are you guys like… getting back together, or…?” The blond squints, his face scrunching up a little as he looks off, sighing some.
“We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, but I mean, you went from not talking at all to hanging out again.” Bucky chimes in, and Steve shrugs, eyes finding his shoes.
“I don’t think she’s interested anymore. If friendship is all she wants, it’s what I’ll give.” Sam and Bucky make eye contact, sharing a frown between them and Sam leans forward slightly.
“Sure, but man, you changed up your whole shit for her… You don’t even wanna try again?” Steve sighs and finally looks back up at them.
“It wasn’t necessarily for her… but she was right. How am I supposed to foster any sort of relationship if I don’t make time for it? What we do is important, but I have to be able to prioritise other things. It’s not fair on anybody in my life.”
Bucky hums. He for one was glad Steve had taken a slight step back from the Avengers. Not only did it mean Sam and Rhodey were given more chances to lead, but it had upped the pressure on everyone slightly, in a good way. Previously Bucky would have felt anxious going on a solo mission with another member who wasn’t Steve or Sam, but now he regularly went on ops with Wanda, his bonds with other members growing immensely.
He clears his throat and reaches out to squeeze Steve’s shoulder some.
“I know how you felt about her, but I think you did the right thing.” Steve gives the dark-haired man a long look and a soft smile, ducking his head.
“What was that thing your Ma used to say?” He asks, and Bucky frowns a moment, before his face lights up again in recognition.
“‘Some folk only bless your life so you can learn from them’.” He says, and Steve hums, raising his glass.
“I’ll drink to that.”
—-
It’s late, you should really be asleep by now, but you’ve been lying awake for hours now. Springtime in New York made the night air warmer than you were used to, and the slightly hot feeling of your body was not helping.
You growl in annoyance and switch your vibrator off, tossing it lightly into the open drawer of your bedside table. Between your thighs your clit still throbs slightly, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself cum in the almost two hours you’d been trying, and your hand was going numb from all the vibrations.
You were damn near desperate. You needed to be fucked, good and proper and thoroughly. With only a moment's hesitation, you reach for your phone and tap out a text.
You up?
Steve: Is everything alright?
It’s fine. Come over?
There’s a minute or so where you see the three dots appear as Steve begins typing, before they disappear, and then reappear, only to disappear once more. You almost smile to yourself. He was unsure.
Come over, pleeeaaaseeee?
Steve: … Are you alright?
You huff this time, and purse your lips. You could be forward here and now, giving him an out, or you could wait till he arrived, which might be far less convenient for your pride if he rejected you.
I need you… please…
This time Steve doesn’t type and then retype his messages, instead you’re forced to stare at your read receipt for a full two minutes before a reply comes back, your body lighting on fire the second you process the four little words.
Steve: Be there in ten.
Anticipation builds in you like a storm, and you quickly straighten your sheets, spritz some perfume, fix your hair a little, and pull on a gown, all in time for the knock on your door. The sound is curt and tense and you swallow thickly as you hurry to answer it, sliding your locks back before swinging it open.
Steve stands once again in dark jeans, this time with a dark grey sweater on. His hair was slightly damp still, messy, and you figure he must have just gotten out of his the shower when you’d texted. His eyes find you quickly, a little wide, a little confused, and with all the desperation from the past two hours fueling you, you pounce on him.
You’re lucky he’s as stable and strong as he is, you throw yourself bodily at him, arms wrapping instantly around his neck, your lips pressing to his own hungrily and he returns in kind, one hand steadying you around your middle, the other tangling up into your hair at the back of your head. You almost mewl at the way his hand clutches at your scalp, and you let him walk you back inside, his foot kicking your door closed behind you.
You keep moving, until your back hits your kitchen bench, and you take the moment to pull open your gown, letting it fall to the floor as your hands move for his own sweatshirt. The fabric is quickly discarded, and you’re a little surprised to hear Steve’s groan at your skin on skin contact, his hands beginning to roam more adventurously now. You weren’t keen on messing around for too long, and you make quick work of his belt, letting him kick his shoes off before he shucks the jeans down himself, stepping out of them, all without pulling his lips from yours.
You sigh into his mouth as he captures your tongue with his own, bearing down on you intently, his hands holding you tightly against his own body like he was trying to pull you into himself. You let a hand drop from his face to the hardness against your abdomen and allow yourself to relish in the soft gasps Steve lets out when you pump your fist over him several times, before increasing your pressure, making him all out moan.
His lips fall away from yours, instead he trails sloppy kisses along your cheek and down your neck, pausing to adjust, widening his legs some. With your mouth free, you find the time to speak.
“This… this is just sex, alright? It’s not… it’s just sex…” You tell him, feeling how for a moment he pauses, and you dread it for a second when he pulls away a little to look down at you. His expression is unreadable, but he’s nodding soon, and you breathe out in relief.
“Gotcha.” Is all he says, and you’re forced to release his length as a moment later you’re hoisted up. Your legs wrap around him, even as you’re set on your countertop, and his mouth moves back to yours. It’s your turn to gasp when his hand drops between your thighs, fingers immediately dipping into the dampness at your core, a touch you’d been craving for too long.
“You really needed it that bad, you had to call me?” His voice is low, and you shiver. Steve’s bedroom talk was always amazing, and now, for some reason, the fact you weren’t even together makes it better. It felt dirtier, more obscene, and you nod, panting as he pulls his lips away from yours, his eyes falling to watch his hand slide from your folds.
You swallow, leaning back on the counter as he becomes more purposeful, two fingers prodding at your entrance, his thumb gravitating to your clit, already overstimulated. When he pushes his two fingers inside you, you let your head fall back and your eyes close, widening your legs even more to give him room to work as he begins slowly pumping back and forth.
“F-fuck…” You breathe, toes scrunching as his fingers move a little faster, curling them slightly to run along your g spot and you feel your legs start to quiver already. He seems to anticipate your squirming though, and uses his free hand to hold one leg, the other he keeps open with his own thigh, moving quicker now. A slower moment lets him insert another finger, and soon you’re clutching around his neck again, needing something tangible to hold on to as he strokes you to finish.
“Steve! Steve, fuck, don’t— please don’t— ah!” You try to catch your breath before you even lose it, but you only swallow down more air as you cum, your hips shaking involuntarily against his hand as he continues to ride you through it, thumb never letting up over your clit until your head lolls back once more.
You’re about to speak, praise him perhaps, when his fingers pull away, taking your hips instead and any words you have are punched out of you with the feel of his hands drawing you onto his cock. You scramble for a hold again, gasping and moaning at the same time as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck.
“Holy fuck…!” You whimper, Steve already curling his hips up and into you, all the while lifting you from the counter itself to bounce you against his standing lap.
He liked this, you remember, liked being able to hold you up all on his own, control the pace, control his movement and yours.
“That okay?” His lips move against your cheek and you nod vehemently, a hand carding through the back of his hair.
“Yes! Fuck, fuck, I need it!” You squeeze your eyes closed as he really starts setting a pace, and you feel that deep spot inside of you that hadn’t been touched in months begin to light up. Regardless of your relationship issues, Steve had always been good in bed, his body fitting into your perfectly, his desire matching up with yours similarly so.
“Yeah? You need it, baby? … shit, I’ll give it to you, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten honey, running over you warm and sticky sweet, and you can’t help it, you pout a little, nodding at his words.
“Please… please!” You whine. You know how much he loved to feel needed, in and out of the bedroom, but that didn’t mean your mewling was all for show. You’d finished once, yes, but you were so pent up you were still rearing to go and Steve’s cock pounding into you hurriedly was only spurring you on. You needed release and he was going to give it to you. Your mind always went a little hazy, a little blank when he’d have you like this, you’d do practically anything he asked, and he knew it.
“Come on, sweetheart, one more, wanna feel you squeeze me…” You whine again with his added words, his lips nipping your ear and you nod, face falling into the crook of his neck as he continues to pant and puff with effort. Your sounds start becoming shorter, more gasped and as he slows to level you with long, deep strokes, your orgasm rolls over you, gentler than the last, though powerful still, amplified by the feel of your cunt actually clutching, gripping onto something as your muscles tense and flutter.
Steve groans, keeps up the longer, slower strokes until you begin to relax again, and with little warning, pulls out. He presses his cock against your inner thigh, but pumps with one hand until he’s sighing airily, thick hot streams of cum streaking over your thigh and abdomen as you watch.
For some reason, all you can think about for a few seconds is how he’d never come on you before. Always inside you, condom or raw, and the change in behaviour confuses you for a moment, but you don’t intend on asking.
You both pant heavily, still partially leant against one another as you catch your breath, and you feel a slight awkwardness settle over you. Would things be weird now? Would he expect more from this? For a moment you have to admit it was nice being back in his arms, nice to pretend he was yours, but reality sets in and you cool off.
Even if he was still your boyfriend, he would never really be ‘yours’. Not while he shouldered so much of the world’s responsibilities.
Steve settles you back on the lip of the counter, and you jump slightly at how cool it feels against your bare skin. As you finally make eye contact, a pit opens in your gut. Steve after sex was always a sight to behold, his hair hanging in his face, his cheeks flushed red and his lips swollen and parted… it makes your stomach lurch in longing, and you quickly clear your throat, gently pushing him back so you can stand.
Finding your robe on the floor, you quickly pull it on despite the sweat covering your skin, and look back toward Steve, though you avoid his eye contact.
“Uhm, do you want to wash up before you go?” You know if sounds a bit harsh, but you’d made it clear to him before you’d properly gotten started that this was just sex. You couldn't bring yourself to expect anything more from him, and risk another broken heart.
Steve blinks, and you see a brief moment of hurt flash across his features before they harden somewhat, and he straightens, tucking himself back into his pants gingerly and collecting his sweatshirt.
“It’s alright, I… I’ll clean up at home.” He says, and you have to cross your arms over your chest at the tight feeling that begins constricting you.
“Okay.” Steve hesitates, looks at you a moment too long before he nods to the door.
“I’ll get out of here.” He says, sounding far more casual than he had a moment ago, as if nothing at all had just transpired between you, and you latch onto that ease, making it easier for you to play along too.
“No worries…” You trail him to the doorway, holding it open behind him as he steps through and turns around. His mouth is open, poised to say something but for some unknown reason you decide to cut him off, a hand shooting out to land on his arm, and you squeeze just a little.
“Thank you, Steve.” You want to cringe at the sound of thanking somebody after sex, but really, it was more about the fact for the second time in a row he actually came when you’d needed him… even if the second was a far more rival affair…
Steve blinks at you slowly from under his long lashes, in that dreamy way he does when he’s thinking something sweet or mushy, and again your insides twist. He only ducks his head further and swallows, a small smile pulling at his lips, far too innocent for the acts you’d just committed barely inside your doorway.
“Of course, uh, anytime…” You snort a little bit, rolling your eyes, but he gives you a final little wave before you shut your door behind him.
You’re left staring at your living room and kitchen counter, eyes fixated on the spot you’d been hauled up against just minutes ago. Your mind immediately begins the playback and you groan, remembering the mess still on your thighs and between them, suddenly more bothersome and uncomfortable than it had been previous, and you retreat to your shower, questioning yourself on if sleeping with your ex, who you’d only just begun talking to again, was a good idea.
—-
You walk in on Steve almost kissing someone.
It’s one of Tony’s parties, the big ones, where he invites everyone and absolutely insists everybody comes, even if he’s only on face-name basis with them. It was actually the first gathering you’d been to with the Avengers since you and Steve broke up, certainly the first since you’d started fucking again. It was good to see Sam and Bucky and the others outside of a work environment, and you think from their genuine smiles and the way Sam keeps talking you into one more round of pool, that maybe they missed you too.
You finally manage to duck out from under Sam’s arm, in search of a bottle of water, when you stumble into the private kitchen, where you’d been told the fridge was stocked full. At first your brain lights up.
Steve was in here! You’d hardly spoken to him all night! But then his hand registers, more specifically, the hip his hand is on registers, and your eyes suddenly piece together the scene before you.
A young woman, pretty, you think you know her from HR actually, leans with her back against the counter, her hands both wrapped around Steve’s biceps. One of his arms is around her waist, the other on her hip and they’re both smiling softly, if not shyly, heads so close their lips are barely apart when you accidentally squeak in surprise.
Steve pulls away instantly, even before he’s seen it’s you, and you realise that whoever this woman was to him, it was new. Steve was always a little skittish with PDA with new relationships. You’d seen it with Sharon, before yourself, and then again with your own relationship… and now with this.
“Oh! I—!” You feel your face go warm and you mouth wordlessly for a moment as you point to the fridge. The woman ducks her head in slight embarrassment and awkwardness and you do feel terrible, despite the wave of grief that overcomes you at the fact Steve was actually moving on.
Not that he wasn’t allowed to… you just hadn’t thought he’d do it first.
“Uh, just, water…” You stutter, suddenly feeling rather sick. Steve follows your pointing, even as you begin to move, avoiding his eyes. It shouldn’t be so weird! The situation the two of you had was strictly no strings attached! Steve was allowed to start dating, so were you! Still… that didn’t mean you wanted to walk in on him about to lay it on a woman that wasn’t you.
You rush out of the room with your water before anybody can gain enough sense to actually talk, and you tuck yourself back between Sam and Nat quickly.
You spy Steve and the woman leaving the kitchen a short while later, and though you don’t see even a bit of smudged lipstick or beard burn, your mind starts to whir in anger. But you know it's unjustified, and you curse yourself for being nearly a year out of your relationship, and still jealous. You consider breaking it off with Steve in the coming week, but your mind wanders back to the way he’d tipped his head back in a moan only days before, the thick column of his throat bobbing as he swallowed, his hands bruising on your hips as you rode him hard.
You decide instead that you’ll just act as if you’d never seen anything at all in the kitchen.
—-
Moving on is… hard.
Not necessarily out of some romantic idea that Steve was ‘The One’, in fact you’re more resolved against anything romantic with him now than you were before, more so because you were… picky.
Even if you lower your standards, every guy you seem to give a chance ends up firmly in your ‘no’ pile after a few dates or less. Most of the time it was because your interests didn’t align, you found them boring or you just weren’t attracted to each other, but occasionally one slips through.
Tom, his name was and Tom was nice. He was polite, handsome, you could talk about both shared interests and your jobs (he worked for the city morgue). Tom was good. You were still unsure of anything long term, or anything serious at all for that matter, but for someone to hang out with and occasionally be kissed by, you could do a lot worse than Tom.
He takes you out almost like clockwork every Friday or Saturday night since you’d met (that was four dates so far), you’d get dinner, maybe some drinks, walk around for a bit, and then he’d kiss you goodbye at your door. It was sweet. Tonight though, tonight you aren’t after sweet at all.
A SHIELD agent you know has her birthday, or maybe it’s a joint party? You aren’t sure, all you know is that it’s at a club, you look hot as hell, and if Tom doesn’t put his hands on you later you’ll burst at the seams.
The club is dark and loud, meant for dancing and drinking, not conversation and polite small talk, and the moment the bouncer sees you inside, you grab Tom by the hand and drag him along, a wicked smile thrown over your shoulder. You do the customary rounds, saying hello to people you know, introducing Tom. You even manage to figure out who the birthday girl is, and give her a hug. You’re aware when you lean over the table to do so that your already short skirt rides up further, and you’re aware tom is standing right behind you, watching.
You make sure not to drink much, you had plans for later after all, but you act a little giddier than you are, letting your hand linger on Tom’s thigh, holding on to him more than normal. You coax him out to the dance floor and that's where you get him. Hot bodies writhe to a beat, pressed up against one another, it doesn’t seem as obscene in the dark. You grind your hips back into Tom’s, his hands snaking their way around your hips and you smile, because you know.
In the dim light and through the throng of bodies, a flash of familiar stops you for a moment. Blonde hair, wide shoulders, beard, beer in hand, untouched… You swallow for a second as you make eye contact with Steve. He must have been invited too, must not have had a mission to go on to get out of it either. Before he can lift an eyebrow or do anything at all, you look away, wrapping your arms around Tom’s shoulders, you lean into his ear.
“Let’s get out of here.”
This… this had not been what you’d had in mind.
Your bedroom is lit only by a spare few candles that flicker your shadows against the wall, and you watch them absently for a second longer, before dropping to rest on your elbows, your body moving in the rythmeric back and forth each time Tom’s hips gently buck into yours.
He can’t see your face since he’s got you on your hands and knees, and you’re glad for it, because you’re not sure you could fake it even if you tried. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good, it was just… you aren’t sure… he touched you like he wasn’t supposed to, and if you’re honest it felt less like he was having sex with you and more like he was just having sex. You could be anyone right now, and he probably wouldn’t care.
Tom pants and moans and then stops, his hips stuttering gently before he pulls out and away from you.
“Bin in the bathroom?” He asks, and you plaster on your best post-sex look, and nod, rolling over in time to see him disappear into your ensuite to dispose of the condom. When he returns, you go about cleaning yourself up.
“That was great.” He chimes, and you offer him a smile. At least somebody had fun, though you note a little bitterly how he hadn’t even asked about you. Maybe Tom wasn’t so nice.
“Yeah!” You enthuse. You already knew he wasn’t going to stay the night, he’d made sure to tell you as much before you’d begun. You pull on a gown and help him dress and gather his things.
At the front door he kisses you chastely, and tells you he’ll call in the morning. Mentally, you cross him off your list, and close your door.
You seeth while you change your sheets, getting angrier and angrier over your situation. You should have known from the start there was no spark with Tom, you shouldn’t have tried to kid yourself! And he should have at least tried to make you cum!
A quick glance at the time tells you it's not too late, and you send off a text, expecting a gentle refusal.
What you don’t expect however, is Steve arriving at your apartment twenty minutes later, angry as all hell, and he all but pushes past you when you’ve opened the door, coming to stand in your living room with his hands on his hips, his brow low and his lips in a thin line.
“Are you serious?” He asks at last, when you’ve stood staring at one another for long enough. He gestures absently, but his hand comes back to his hip.
“Wha—”
“—Don’t.” He says sharply, and you shut your mouth. This was different… you’d never really seen Steve angry before, let alone angry with you… it doesn’t at all help your current situation though, and you swallow, adjusting your stance.
“You know damn well I saw you leave with him earlier! I can smell the sex in the air. You haven’t had enough already tonight?” The words are harsh and hurt lances through you momentarily, before defensiveness takes over and you cross your arms over your chest, lifting your chin a little.
“Excuse me? Who I spend time with and how is none of your business!” Steve scoffs and looks off for a moment, a mirthless smile on his face.
“Right. But you still want me to fuck you after anyway.” The vulgarity is new as well, and it occurs to you in the back of your mind, that he must be really pissed with you.
“If you didn’t want to come, you should have just said no!” You say, your voice sounding a little more shrill and a little more crackly than you want it too. All your bravado aside, Steve was imposing when he was angry, and the fact that anybody yelling at you, let alone him, was enough to make you cry, gives your voice a shake you didn’t ask for. Not to mention that you really hadn’t expected him to show up at all, especially angry.
Steve looks back at you, his fuming expression not exactly subsiding, but it softens some, and he drops one hand from his hip to rub at his brow before he looks back up at you, more exasperated now than anything else.
“Why did you call me?” He sounds tired, but you know an olive branch when you see one, and you snatch it, stepping closer, ducking your head.
“Why do you think…?” You shrug and purse your lips before looking up at him again.
“He was shit. You aren’t.” His shoulders square just a little at your words, and you know it's a bit of a low blow, any guy was likely to be more inclined to having sex with you if you compared him positively incomparison with another man. Steve cocks his head, lids dipping slightly and you know you’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.
“Is that right?” You’re right in front of each other now and you let your hands wind up around his neck, playing demure as he fixes you with a knowingly amused look, his hands landing firmly at your waist.
“Mhmn.” You hum, nodding, shrugging once again.
“He didn’t know how.” You say, pouting as Steve dips his face closer to yours, and again you find yourself pretending that this wasn’t just sex, that these arms where ones you could be wrapped in whenever you wanted.
“Didn’t know how to what?” Steve asks, voice deep and rumbly in his throat, his breath coasting over your lips, and you lean in quick, nipping at his mouth chastley, feeling his hands tighten at your waist.
“Didn’t know how to take care of me.” Magic words, really. Steve is on you in seconds, mouth devouring your own, the warmth of him engulfing and you let yourself sink into the fever.
Perhaps some of that anger still simmers under the surface, because he fucks you hard, his thrusts just a little more pointed, his fingers digging a little deeper into your skin. His teeth nibble at your lower lip making you keen for him with another gasp as his hips snap against yours once again.
He’s covering you completely, chest to chest, his arms rest around your head, caging you in, and you grasp onto him wherever you can, hiking your thighs higher around him as he drives into you quickly.
“You know, if I wanted to make a point,” Steve begins, his voice raspy and puffed slightly, and you peel your eyes open to look at him, his face so close to yours it almost makes you cross-eyed.
“I’d not make you cum either.” He finishes, and you start, a slight wave of panic setting in, and you open your mouth to preemptively beg, but then he’s shifting, a hand sliding between your sweaty bodies, fingers pawing until they find your clit, and you suck in air sharply.
Steve wears a lazy but wicked grin, and he begins swirling his fingers over your bundle of nerves, dropping his face low enough that when he speaks his lips brush over yours.
“But I like watching you cum while I fuck you.” As your breathing shallows, Steve seems to swallow down each short breath, eyes never leaving your face as you quickly feel your release creep up on you, his harsh, deep strokes combined with the rough pads of his fingertips rapidly spinning circles and you’re falling.
Steve uses his body to hold you down, prevent you from shaking or jerking too much as you topple over the edge of release, your pussy clutching onto his cock even as he grunts, continuing to grind into you as you call out his name over and over.
He drops his face to your neck as your senses come back to you, your brain feeling light and your eyesight a little dimmed from the sensations. You know any second now he’ll pull out, jerk himself until he spills on your stomach or thigh like he always seemed to nowadays, but something ticks in your brain, raw and primal and you hook your ankles as best you can behind him, raking your fingernails over his back in marks that will disappear by morning.
“She tighter than me, Steve?” You feel his head start to lift a little, but you gently bite at his earlobe, stopping him.
“Does she feel this good when you’re fucking her?” Something switches then in the atmosphere of the room, he picks up his pace again, and you jump when one hand fists in the back of your head, pulling your neck back and away. Steve glares down at you, though his game is half given away by the grunt he gives a second later.
“Shut up.” He says, though it isn’t half as harsh as you expect, and he rolls his eyes some, dropping his lips down to your exposed throat now and you feel a thrill run through you.
“Does she let you fuck her like this or is it gentle missionary only?” You press on, yelping a little when teeth scrape at your skin warningly, and the hand in your hair tightens, pulling.
“Because you know I’d let you have me any which way… on my knees, under you, over you… fuck,” You pause, panting a little with effort as he fucks you even harder, each word punched out of you.
“Fuck, I’d let you have my ass if you brought the lube…” Triumph colours you as Steve groans, gasping almost, his fist at your scalp a little painful as he curls his hips deep once, twice, three times more before you feel him finish, and he stills.
Your bodies are hot and sticky with sweat against one another, and you can feel him shake a little in his come down as he finally relaxes.
Like always, in the aftermath you’re both silent for a few moments before Steve lifts his head, his chest heavy against your own, and he fixes you with a unconvincingly unamused expression.
“Thought I told you to shut up?” He asks, shifting to hold up more of his own weight, and you pretend to not hear him, cocking your head.
“Towel?” He seems to relent, rolling off of you and sinking into your mattress as you hop up, moving to your bathroom to grab a spare towel.
When you return, you almost falter for a few seconds in the doorway, swallowing thickly. Steve lies on your bed, one arm hooked under his head, naked as anything, looking like he belonged there. Your chest lurches, and your stomach falls to your knees as you force yourself to keep moving, gently tossing the towel at him as you gather your gown once again.
You’ll shower when he’s gone.
“Really that bad, huh?” He asks when he’s drying his hair, his underwear now pulled up around his hips, and you sigh, smiling slightly.
“Honestly… I think I’m pretty forgiving, but he didn’t even try. I’m the one who had to suggest we change positions even!” It’s easy to fall into this routine with Steve, especially after you’ve both been satiated, but it’s not really a dynamic that exists anywhere else at any other time.
At work you were friendly but professional, around friends you were polite but never seemed to stray too close (neither of you wanted a particular redhead in your business), and you made a point of not hanging out outside of that. You were already sleeping together, that was more than enough. Anything more would just make you hope, and hope would only let you down.
Steve was still Steve. He was still the guy everyone turned to in a crisis, he was still the man on the ground nine times out of ten. You broke up for a reason, and you needed to keep that in mind.
Steve shoots you a wince and scrunches his nose as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders and pops his head through the hole.
“I’m sorry for… yelling.” He says after he’s pulled on his pants, and you frown, looking away.
“Don’t be… I probably shouldn’t have called you.” You say, missing the dip in his brows when you don’t look away from one of your flickering candles. Steve purses his lips as he threads his belt through his pants, but shrugs.
“You should just tell him, if you like him”
“Nah… I don’t think there’s much there for me anyway. I don’t know.” You wave him off and stand as he pulls on his jacket. This part was always the most awkward.
“Whatever you want.” He readies his keys and you move with him to the door. You always felt like you were missing something in your goodbye’s, but a hug or a kiss or a thank you was the exact last thing you wanted to do.
Keep it casual.
Steve pauses at your door, his expression unreadable and you fold your arms over your chest, flashing him an easy smile.
“Drive safe, Steve.”
“Goodnight. Sleep well.”
—-
“Wait, what?” You turn in your seat to look at your coworker Lucy, who nods, and finishes her mouthful of yoghurt.
“Yeah, right! Two in the morning and I’m getting calls to analyse samples as if I’m at the off—”
“—No, I meant…” You trail off, mind whirring, trying to think over the details you knew already.
“I didn’t know they’d gone on a mission…” You finish with instead, sitting back in your chair.
It wasn’t like you knew the Avengers schedule off my heart, or that it was your job to know everytime they left the tower. It made sense as to why Steve hadn’t been talkative the past few days though… Still, he’d confirmed that your ‘meeting’ was still happening this afternoon, even though you’d just gotten word that the team was landing in two hours.
Lucy chitters on until your half-day ends, at which point you quickly pack up your things and make your way to the elevator. You consider calling in to the upper floors, the residential ones, to speak with the man himself, but you decide against it. It wasn’t like you were a regular up there, it would be weird and raise questions, not to mention that given his recent return from a mission, he was likely in debriefings or writing up his reports.
You pull out your phone instead and send off a quick text.
‘Just heard you got in from an assignment… Do you want to reschedule this afternoon? I know you’re probably tired as hell…?’
Steve doesn’t reply right away, and honestly you don’t expect him too. You make it all the way home before your phone buzzes, and you find yourself staring for several minutes at the words on the screen.
S: ‘I’m happy to come over, if you’re still free. I’m totally fine.’
You send him a quick confirmation, but can’t help but chew on your lip. Part of you wonders why he’d bother. You know he was lying about being fine, super soldier or not, everybody liked their downtime after an extremely stressful few days, and coming to your ex-girlfriend’s house for a hookup wasn’t exactly that… then again, maybe he really needed his itch scratched. Who were you to judge?
You’d finished your day at two, which was nice, and you do a quick clean up of your apartment before Steve was set to arrive at four. You shower and change and throw a little bit of makeup on, finishing just as your doorbell rings.
When you open the door, you can see right away that he’d been lying about being fine. Maybe nobody else would notice, but you had spent a considerable amount of time around Steve, and you could pick out his undereye bags straight away. To anybody else he’d look completely normal, but his shoulders slump just so, his smile just a little too tight.
“Hey.” He greets as you step aside, letting him kiss your cheek as he enters. You don’t know when that became a thing, but it was something you’d seen him do with a few of his female friends, so you let it slip, knowing it wasn’t just you.
“Hey…” You shoot back, suspicion slightly etched on your words. Steve immediately rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he hangs his jacket on the back of your couch.
“I’m fine.” He tells you pointedly and you decide that you can’t be bothered arguing. It was his choice to come, if he didn’t really want to, then he’d have to deal with that like a big boy.
Casual conversation ensues, he asks about your week, you tell him the hot goss in the forensics lab, and then somehow from that very enticing subject, you end up on your bed, Steve hovering just over you, lips pressed hotly against your own. Despite yourself, not all your hook ups with Steve were hot and heavy and quick. You missed making out with someone, the build up of it all, and even though you told yourself it was dangerous territory, you went there anyway.
Steve’s hands trail slowly up your body, feeling you over your clothes, and then under. You get rid of his shirt fairly quickly, his shoes kicked off already, and not for the first time, you just relish in being held, the fantasy that this was real, and you weren’t casually sleeping with your ex-boyfriend. Steve plants his knee between your legs when you scratch at the back of his head, a groan following shortly after as his fingers work to find the bottom of your shirt and get it up. You part for only seconds when he pulls it over your head, throwing it to the edge of the bed. You hadn’t bothered putting a bra on, leaving you already exposed. Steve may be Captain America, a symbol of a nation and whatever else, but he was still a man, and the second he can, he’s got his lips pressed to the skin of your neck and rapidly descending, hands groping appreciatively at your breasts.
His mouth leaves hot kisses down your throat, over your chest, and you’re so ready to feel his lips take over from where his thumb brushes over your nipple when the doorbell rings.
You both pause a moment, Steve lifting his head and you groan, scrunching up your face as the bell is joined by rapid knocking. Steve smiles, cheeks a little pink, and shifts off of you, already reaching for the nearest shirt. It’s his, but you don’t think he’ll mind much as you slip it over your head and shoot him an apologetic glance as he makes himself comfortable on your pillows, placing an arm behind his head.
“Sorry, just… give me a moment…”
“It’s fine.” Steve waves off your apologies as you jog from the room to your front door.
It’s a package you have to sign for, but the courier brings up the wrong electronic form, and you’re forced to wait impatiently as his slow device loads the correct one instead. You’re trying to remain polite, trying not to tap your foot or your fingers, but by the time you’re closing your door again, you don’t even stop to look at what the package is, chucking it onto your couch and all but racing back to your bedroom.
“Just a courier, but while I’m up, do you want a be—” You cut yourself off, coming to a stop in your doorway, eyes landing on the sight laid out before you. Steve lays against your decorative cushions, shirtless, his arm no longer behind his head, instead now he’s curled on his side, another pillow stuffed between his arms where he squeezes it, eyes shut tight, mouth slightly ajar.
Your heart skips several beats, the urge to squeal at how adorable he looks only overruled by the odd stirring in your stomach at how much you missed seeing him in your bed. And then that thought is cancelled out by your guilt.
For Steve to actually fall asleep unintended, he must have been exhausted. You really should have insisted on rescheduling…
He stirs a little, humming softly and adjusting his hold on the pillow he was cuddling and you start. You should wake him up and send him home. You weren’t dating, you were only tentatively friends. You were just sleeping together, nothing else.
But you don’t.
Instead, you move to your laptop in the living room. You had stuff you could stand to get done. It wasn’t that big of a deal.
You end up logging back into your work server and ticking off several tasks on your to-do list, losing track of time in the process. It isn’t until nearly seven when you notice, at which point you send a glance back to your bedroom doorway, before pulling up your local pizza places’ online ordering site.
Steve wakes not too long after, his footsteps purposefully loud, and you turn again to look at him as he exits your room, scratching his head and looking for all the world like an embarrassed child.
“For someone who wasn’t at all tired and was totally fine, you sure did take a midafternoon nap.” You tease and he gives you a thin, apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry… I—”
“—It’s fine, Steve. Besides, I ended up clearing off my schedule for the week, so that’s nice.”
He still looks bashful, even as he takes a seat opposite you at the table.
“Do you want me to head out?” He asks, and you wave him off, standing up to move to your fridge.
“Nah. Unless you want to. But I ordered pizza a little while ago. Figured you’d be hungry. Beer?”
Steve blinks and you see him processing his choices, but he eventually nods, and you pull two bottles, cracking them open and handing one to him as you take your seat again.
“Beer and pizza isn’t exactly how I’d expected tonight to go, but you know, it’s up there.” You shrug, and Steve chuckles, shaking his head.
“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” He asks.
“I’m just saying, I’ve had some interesting sex in my time, but I’ve never actually had a guy fall asleep on me before…” You both laugh, and trade jabs until your food arrives.
Steve offers to get it, which you don’t protest, grabbing some plates and moving your drinks to the couch instead. You realise, when you take a look back at him handing some cash to the delivery guy, that you’re still wearing his shirt, and groan internally.
You change quickly, pulling on your own clothes, and chucking Steve back his own when you return to the living room. He’s sat in ‘his’ seat once again, and he only lifts an eyebrow at you when he catches his shirt, before pulling it on. You don’t even pretend to not stare at the way his body stretches and moves when he does, and he doesn’t pretend not to notice.
“You know, I was gonna ask for it back when I woke up.” He tells you as you both start grabbing slices to put on your plates.
“Oh?”
Steve ums, and settles back in his seat as you search for something to play on the tv.
“But I kinda miss seeing you in my clothes.” He says, and you pause.
You fight the urge to look at him, and even though your heart beats loudly in your ears at his confession, you try to go on as if what he’d said was totally normal.
“Um, have you ever seen this one?” You point to the screen, displaying the rundown of a show you’d heard some of your coworkers talking about, and Stev shakes his head.
“Clint talks about it, but I haven’t had the time.” He shrugs and you press play.
Eventually, you find yourself relaxing again, one of you occasionally piping up to chat some shit about how unrealistic or contrived the show was, and eating your fill (and then some) of pizza. It’s weirdly casual, in a way you truly haven’t felt around Steve in a long time, but just like when you’re doing far less casual things together, it’s easy to just pretend for a while.
You fall asleep on your couch sometime after midnight, and in the morning wake up in your bed, your living room devoid of beer bottles and pizza boxes, all the remains plated and covered in your fridge. You want to be angry at yourself for allowing your interactions with Steve to go beyond the physical, but you can’t.
For the rest of your day there’s a lightness in your steps and a softness to your thoughts, as you permit yourself this one, silly, selfishness.
—-
One pizza and netflix night turns into two, and then somehow your hookups with Steve become less about sex and more about the company. You still sleep together, of course, but more often than not, you’ll find yourselves too tired for anything. Steve sits on your bed and borrows your laptop to type up reports, and you beside him, a friendly distance away, scrolling through your phone or finishing the latest book you’d started.
You don’t think about it.
But it’s nice.
Natasha and Bucky stop by your lab on a friday night and subsequently invite you to join the rest of the group for drinks that evening. You don’t even feel hesitant to accept, and you don’t think about that either.
You can’t be bothered going home to change and then come back, so you head right up when you clock off. The team is already in good form, lounging around a set of coffee tables on the upper level, several empty bottles already littering the space. The huge glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony have been pulled wide open, and Sam and Clint stand at the grill, trying to out-fry each other.
“You look nice.” Steve tells you, greeting you with a casual half-hug. He foregoes the kiss on the cheek this time, and you don’t think about it.
“Really?” You ask, genuinely amused.
“I came straight from work and I feel like I’ve been sweating in this dress all day.”
Steve grins and shrugs.
“You look nice.” He repeats, eyes not leaving you until Nat calls your attention away.
“Geez Rogers, she’s been here for five seconds and you haven’t offered her a drink?!” The redhead teases from behind the nearby bar, and you laugh, playfully shoving Steve in the arm.
“Yeah, where are you manners?!”
Steve holds up his hands in defeat, still smiling, and you move with him to the bar.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you.” Natasha winks, and you wave a hand, letting her mix you some concoction you don’t catch the contents of.
“I may regret this in the morning but; I trust you.”
Nat only laughs again as Steve reaches over the bar to grab himself another beer, and you watch, unconcerned with who could be watching you. When your drink is made, you clink glasses, and move to where the others all sit. His hand grazes your lower back as you walk, but you don’t think about it.
Night falls and food is served. More drinks and more laughs, and when you’ve returned to the bar to fetch a couple more martinis for the fellas now crowding around the pool table, one Sam Wilson slides against your side.
“Good to see you make it tonight.” He nods, his signature grin spread across his face. You chuckle and shrug.
“I really needed to take a load off.”
Sam nods and looks over his shoulder as several cheers erupt from the ongoing game, before he’s staring back at you once again.
“You and Steve back on or…?” The question doesn’t totally shock you, but you still give a friendly scoff, and shake your head.
“No… Definitely not.”
Sam’s brow furrows and he cocks his head.
“We’re just friends again. That’s it. Steve’s a great guy, but…” You trail off, and shake your head once more. Sam shifts to face you and lifts an eyebrow.
“You guys aren’t subtle, you know that right? And I know you ain’t calling him to come fix your sink every other night.”
Your face grows warm and you roll your eyes.
“So what? Doesn’t mean we’re together. We just know each other. It’s comfortable.” You shrug and Sam hums in a disbelieving way.
“Look, Steve is… Steve. He’ll always be more tied to his work than anything, or any one else, and that’s fine. I just know I can't expect more from him than… this.”
Sam watches you for a moment, eyes searching your face until he looks away, nodding his head, relenting.
“Whatever you say. I’m just saying maybe you should give it another go… with the three of us now rotating leadership, things might be different.”
You frown at that, as Nat finishes with the drinks you’d asked her for, and cock your head.
“What do you mean ‘the three of you on rotation’?”
Sam sideyes you.
“Steve stepped down as our sole guy, like, a year ago now. Rhodey, he, and I take turns. We got a week each on rotation.”
You blink at the information, and wonder why Steve had never mentioned it before.
Him stepping down as the Avenger’s go-to leader was… a pretty big deal. Actually, you’re kind of shocked by it. Steve had always been, as long as you’d known him, unable to walk away from a fight. If a situation was going down, he had to be there, at the front taking charge. It was literally the reason you’d broken up. He didn’t know how to take a break, and in his life, you’d always be second, maybe even third priority.
Sm nicks one of the drinks in front of you, and you half-heartedly scold him for it as you attempt to carry the other three back to the pool table, Steve putting his cue to the side and stepping up to help you when he notices.
Sam’s words continue to spin around your brain as you settle back in to watch. It isn’t until Bucky elbows you gently in the side that you realise you were being spoken to, and you blink around.
“We were saying that we forgot to set a prize for the game.” Sam re-explains, and you hum.
“I said maybe you’d give the winner a kiss.” Bucky adds, his face clearly joking, but in that ‘only joking if you are’ way.
You scoff and roll your eyes.
“Jesus, what is it? 1955?”
Bucky shrugs and sips at his drink. He’d always been a flirty drunk, not that he was drunk-drunk, but his serum seemed to affect him in slightly different ways to Steve. If he really tried, he could get a pretty decent buzz.
“And besides, I doubt Steve would see that as much of a prize, and last I checked, he was wiping the floor with you chumps.” You wave a hand and Sam cackles. Steve lifts an eyebrow at you, catching your eye.
“Don’t be so sure, sweetheart, a prize is a prize.”
You hardly hear his words, it's his expression that draws you in, makes you forget about the company around you. The air feels hot all of a sudden and you really wished you could drag him off. You shrug.
“Well maybe I’ll give you something else if you win.”
If the others pick up on anything other than friendly banter, they thankfully choose not to mention it, simply laughing and moving back to the game. Steve’s cheeks tint a little pink, but he throws you a wink when he takes his next turn, and you have to laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity.
Steve holds the lead for two rounds, but Bucky, fuelled by Nat’s martinis, makes a comeback, and as the final scores are tallied, he leans in, tapping his cheek expectantly. It’s all in good fun, and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time, but make good in your promise of a prize and instead grip him gently by the chin and plant a quick kiss to his lips. Bucky lifts his drink in achievement, and you playfully shove him away.
“I’m sure Freud would have something to say about that.” Steve says teasingly, plopping down beside you, and you scoff.
“Nobody listens to Freud, and you and Bucky aren’t actually family.” You almost add that you and he aren’t actually dating either, but you stop short. Steve throws you a grin and relents.
“You finish that book yet?” He asks, referring to the Freud book in question that you’d been halfway through the last time he’d been over.
You shake your head.
“No. And I don’t think I will. I can put up with a lot of batshit crazy things, but I draw the line at him.”
Steve laughs, and takes a swig of his beer. A thought occurs to you then, and you turn to face him, squinting.
“Did you lose on purpose?”
“What?”
“The game. Did you lose on purpose?”
Steve blinks sheepishly at you in the same way he did when he was formulating some kind of believable lie, and you roll your eyes, smacking his arm.
“You’re so full of shit!” You laugh, watching him shrug and shift awkwardly.
“I didn’t want you to feel awkward.”
You sideye him with another huff of laughter.
“I mean I offered, in front of our friends, mind you, to give you a blowjob if you won… how awkward did you think I felt?” You watch Steve’s cheeks light up again, and he shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you this time.
“Was that what you meant?” He asks, as a sort of recovery, but you can see he’s still a little flustered. You chuckle, and lean into him, resting your hand on his upper thigh and squeezing just slightly.
“Maybe next time.” You wink, and watch his expression shift, his eyes flickering down to your lips briefly, and you just know he’s imagining what would be happening right now if you weren’t surrounded by at least ten other people.
Again, you feel the urge to drag him away, but you keep your cool, leaning away from him and removing your hand as Tony and Rhodey make their way over to the couches.
As the night wanes on, Steve’s arm ends up over the back of your seat.
You don’t think about it.
—-
“Are you sure you don’t have anything better to be doing?” You ask, a little exasperatedly.
It wasn’t that you weren’t thankful, but Steve was too good to know when to say ‘no’. Not that you’d even asked him, he’d offered and then showed up at your door bright and early anyway, regardless of your non-committal answer.
He just shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Day off.” He tells you. You squint. You know now thanks to Sam that he wasn’t lying, but it still makes you squirm a little.
“Well, whatever. Don’t come complaining to me about splinters.” You snark, moving ahead to inspect the branches of the next pine tree along.
Steve pouts.
“But you know those tweezers are too small for my fingers…”
“Oh, what a hard life, Steven! You never get sick and are basically invincible… except for those damn pesky tweezers!”
Steve nudges you in the side, as you laugh.
“Don’t let the bad guys know about that.” You side-eye him and he gives you his best puppy-dog eyes.
“You’re the only one who knows my secret.” He says, with over-the-top sincerity.
“I trust you.” He adds a moment later, and you snort.
“Well, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”
You continue to sass and snark at each other as you walk down the rows and rows of trees, not even really looking at the pines, until you realise that an hour is probably too long to spend tree-shopping, and pick out the nearest half decent one.
Steve carries it to his car, as he’d offered to do in the first place, and you strap it up tight before getting in.
The conversation flows easy and light on the drive back, and when Steve’s phone rings, you switch instead to staring out the window at all the Christmas lights and decorations the city had put up in preparation.
“Hello? Oh, yes…?” You can only hear Steve’s side of the conversation, not blessed with super-hearing like he was, but you turn your head, intrigued when he seems to falter.
“Today? Well I… in twenty minutes? Oh, um…” He looks over at you, a frown pulling at his brows.
“If you need to stop somewhere…” You whisper, waving a hand to confirm you were okay with the detour, and he shoots you a tight smile, before setting his eyes back on the road.
“I can do that, no problem. Okay. Thank you. Bye.”
“What was that about?” You ask immediately, curious now that you were seemingly being dragged along.
“I had to get a suit altered— for Tony’s christmas party on the weekend…” He begins and you ‘ah’. Tony had declared all attendees go all-out. No jeans were allowed, it was supposed to be a strictly formal event.
“But the owner of the store just realised my appointment clashed with her flight out of the city this afternoon.”
“So we’re going to pick it up?”
“Yeah.”
You hum, and nod, fiddling with the radio now as you drive past the turn off for your place. Steve had promised to help you carry your tree inside, and given the time, it would probably take too long for him to make his appointment if he took you home first. You didn’t mind though.
The tailor he’d chosen wasn’t some fancy, high end retail store, but you never expected it would be. Instead, Steve holds open the door to a small, mom-and-pop type shop, with dark wooden interiors that just screamed old-school class. You enter and promptly take a seat in the showroom as Steve is whisked away to try on his suit for a final inspection.
You’re staring mindlessly at your phone when he steps back in, a little awkward, clearly asking what you think.
“Well, well, well Rogers… So you do clean up nicely after all!” You tease, standing and moving closer as he rolls his eyes at you and faces the mirror. You watch him smooth down the suit jacket, looking a little self-conscious if you’re being honest, but then his eyes find yours again in the mirror.
“You’re going, right?”
You nod, shrugging your shoulders a bit.
“I think Tony would have my head if I made up an excuse… and I kinda like christmas parties… dressing up, mistletoe and all that.” You wave a hand, and Steve turns back around to face you.
“Come with me.” He says, breathily, like he’d been holding the words in for so long he just couldn’t keep them anymore. You freeze, staring up at his hopeful expression, feeling for all the world like your veins had suddenly turned to ice.
“What?” You can’t help but ask, and the blond shifts on his feet, lifting his chin a little more confidently this time.
“Come with me. To the party.”
You aren’t sure how you hear him so clearly when your heart beat thunder loudly in your ears, and suddenly, the walls in the room begin to close in on you. You shake your head with a frown and take a step back from him.
“W-what? No, Steve, I…”
Steve straightens a little, his brow furrowing now and you struggle to speak, panic rising in your chest.
“Steve, we’re— we’re just friends. This isn’t— we aren’t dating!” You stress, still shaking your head, and still stepping away from him. Steve ‘s jaw sets a little and he gets that look on his face like when he had something to say, but he knew it would be incendiary.
“Maybe not, but I don’t think we’ve been just friends for a while now, and you know that.” He says instead, voice tight, and you suck in air sharply.
You knew this was a mistake.
You knew doing anything outside of your agreed-upon interactions was dangerous, and yet, like an idiot, you’d gone there anyway.
“Steve— I am—” You lower your voice somewhat, remembering where you are, and hold out a hand.
“This, what we’re doing now, this is fine. Nobody gets hurt, it’s fun and—”
“—Who's getting hurt exactly?” Steve cuts you off, and you barely refrain from yelling at him.
“Me! I am not going to sit around, waiting for you to find the time to see me! I’m not doing that again. I’m not playing second fiddle to your job!” You explode, immediately pulling back at the flash of grief that lances across Steve’s face.
You look away from him and rub at your temple.
“Every time you’ve called me, I’ve come.” Steve says, voice thick with hurt, and you clench your teeth.
“Every. Time.” He repeats, and you finally bring yourself to look at him.
“I am sorry that the lines got blurred. But I am not—” You stutter a little, choking on your words, but you clear your throat.
“I cannot do this again.”
And you leave.
You run away, because it was less scary than whatever Steve wanted from you. Less scary than opening yourself up and getting hurt like before.
And you were an idiot for it.
You hate yourself for crying when you get home, sans christmas tree now, and a big part of you is glad Steve doesn’t follow you, or try to call. A bigger part of you cries that he doesn’t, and at the fact that despite trying to keep things casual, keep him at arm's length, you’d gone and gotten all tangled up anyway.
It was a mistake.
You knew from the start, but you can’t even revel in your own self pity for too long, because soon enough you’re coming to your goddamn senses.
You were a complete and total bitch.
Steve had hurt you, yes, and maybe springing a date on you like that wasn’t the best way, but even you aren’t dumb enough to not notice his change. He had hurt you, and then he’d changed. He’d taken a step away from leading, to be more present, to be more around, and he was right, he had come every time you’d needed him, for whatever reason. He’d kept your scheduled meetings, even when he was dead tired and really could have called them off.
He’d done everything you could have asked for.
And you hadn’t even asked for it.
—-
Your nerves nearly consume you when you step through the doorway and into the open space of the residential floors. Tony had gone just as nuts with the decorating as you’d imagined. Not a single corner of the room looked like Christmas hadn’t thrown up all over it. Yet, even your love of this time of year couldn’t trump the anxiety that rolls back over you as you look around the room.
You’re actually glad that you can’t spot him right away. It lets you relax, greet other people, ease into the nerves you feel. Besides, if your little meltdown had sent him back into the arms of whatever-her-name-was, you might just be sick.
The jig is up however, when Sam Wilson slings an arm around your shoulder, bright smile betrayed only by the knowing glance he gives you.
“Didn’t think I’d end up seeing you tonight.” he says casually, leading you toward the bar, and you shrug as best you can.
“I’ve got to grovel at some time. Christmas party seemed dramatic and cinematic enough.”
Sam gives you a sympathetic look and squeezes your arm.
“He isn’t upset with you.”
“He should be.” You say, shaking your head and dropping your gaze.
Sam sighs and removes his arm from you so that he can signal the bartender.
“He’s upset with himself.”
You roll your eyes.
“Of course he is. Cause he’s so damned good.” You kick the bar lightly in frustration, and sink a little more into self-hatred. Sam slides a shot of clear liquor toward you.
“Courage.” He says, tipping his own back seconds later, and you relent, plastering on a tight smile before pouring the contents of the glass down your throat.
It burns, and fills your nose with the distinct taste of vodka, and you scrunch up your face, Sam laughing at you when you put your glasses back.
“I’d like less courage next time.” You tell him, and he shrugs.
“I doubt you’ll be saying that in five seconds.” His eyes skip over your shoulder and you frown.
“Wait, why?” A quick glance behind you makes you panic, wide eyes finding a grinning Sam once again, who is already slinking off.
“Sam!”
It’s useless though, he’s gone in seconds, and quickly you become very aware of the man who’d come to stand a small distance away from you at the bar. Biting the bullet, you swallow thickly, and turn to look at him.
Steve looks much like he had the last time you’d seen him, which really only makes your stomach churn more in memory of the way you’d acted.
“Hey…” You greet, worried perhaps he might ignore you, even though you know damn well he could hear you over the crowd. But he doesn’t, eyes swivelling to find your like it was what he’d been waiting for. He gives you a conservative smile and nod.
“Hey.”
The one word alone, filled with so much simple sadness makes the damn break, and before you even realise what you’re doing, you’ve stepped right beside him, hands wringing in front of you.
“Steve, I am so sorry. What I said— I was just— I was a bitch.” You finish lamely, but he only looks down at you, slightly bewildered, as if he really hadn’t expected you to say anything about what had happened.
He turns in to face you, feeding off of your distressed body-language, one hand coming up to touch your arm, and he looks around concerned for a moment before back at you.
“You wanna go somewhere else…?” He asks, and again, you wallow in self-hatred at the way that he so quickly seemed ready to defend your clear anxiety. You swallow, and nod, letting him lead you away from the bar.
He guides you through familiar rooms just as decked out and just as full with people, until you reach a small, quiet staircase, one you know leads up to the private floors.
You’re well aware of how long it had been since you’d last stood in his apartment, and it only spurs your nerves on more. Maybe you should have waited… maybe the christmas party wasn’t the ideal time…
“As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing to apologise for.” Steve says, which only makes you scoff, rounding on him where he stands.
“Steve, you’ve got to be kidding!”
He only shrugs, sad eyes turning down and you sigh.
“Everything I said was… I shouldn’t have said it. You were right. Things haven’t exactly been ‘casual-hookups-no-strings-attached’ for a long time.” You fiddle with the hem of your sleeve and shuffle on your feet.
“I… I like what we had. Just… hanging out. You’re… you’re so easy to be with, and I like that, Steve. I never feel like we’re on different pages, you always get me, you’re great in bed… I— I like being with you, so much…” You pause and take a shaky breath.
“And I know that you’ve been trying. You’ve… frankly, you’ve changed more than I was even asking for back when—” You cut yourself off and shake your head.
“My point is. I’m sorry. I was a bitch because having you in my life in some way is better than not at all, and if things ended the way they did last time, I wouldn’t be able to even look at you— Am I even making any sense?!” You drag a hand over your hair and sigh. Steve moves toward you, slowly, and you force yourself to look at him.
“Yes.” He says, stopping just in front of you.
“I think.” He adds a moment later and you can’t help but laugh. You shake your head.
“I’m sorry.” You say again, and watch him stare at you, before nodding.
“Thank you. I’m sorry too.” He says, though you can’t even imagine what for right now.
“Is it too late to retroactively accept your invitation to the party?” You joke, and his face breaks into a smile, a light chuckle leaving him.
“I think so… Didn’t get to pick you up or anything…”
You click your fingers in an ‘oh shoot’ gesture, and Steve grabs your hand before you can drop it again. You watch as slowly he brings it to his lips, kissing the backs of your fingers.
Your breathing gets shallower at the action, and you wonder if him bringing you here, to his private rooms, was really a good thing after all. You rescind your earlier thoughts. You’re glad you didn’t wait, you’re glad you decided to do this during the Christmas party.
He pulls you closer in a way that feels only natural, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t have to pretend that any of this is real, you don’t need the fantasy.
Steve kisses you long and sweet, his hands firm and secure where he holds you, a silent promise. You think it feels different to how he normally holds you, but you think it’s probably just in your head. You bite at his lower lip, pulling on it just slightly, and his chest rumbles, his hands moving then, squeezing and pawing at you, feet blindly guiding you, moving towards his bedroom.
Clothes are peeled off and set aside, when you try to move atop of him, he only grabs your wrists, trapping you in place against his mattress, and you don’t even care. Steve was here, with you, in his room, and it was real.
He has you face down, pillow raising your hips slightly, his body draped over yours warm and heavy, sweat slicked and firm. Your thighs are only just parted, enough for him to slip inside you, so close, so deep you think you see stars with each thrust. He moves slow, arms caged around your own, hand splayed out against your throat, lifting your head up and back so he can kiss you as he moves, taste each moan he creates as he creates it.
You feel overwhelmed and utterly saturated in him, picked to pieces and pulled apart, his cock sheathed so deep, his weight bearing down on you, you’re drowning in him.
He kisses the back of your neck and shoulders, resting his forehead against you as he picks up his pace, driving faster and deeper, your desperate words of filth and want muffled into the pillow you hold tightly. You think your nails might’ve ripped a hole in the fabric, but you aren’t sure.
You come together, heady cries filling the air before dissipating into heavy, breathy sighs. He doesn’t leave you, stays right there atop of you, still inside you as you both come down. He kisses along your spine again, sweeps some hair out of the way to reach your neck, and that place behind your ear.
“Am I too heavy?” He asks a moment after, voice muffled in the skin of your shoulder, and you laugh, shaking your head, and peering up at him as best you can. He was atop you, sure, but his arms still held most of his weight, never too rough, always just enough.
“No. I like it.” You say, feeling a little shy. All the times you’d slept together, in a relationship, and out of it, this felt real, like all else before was just practice. Steve shifts his hips a little and you suck in a sharp breath.
“Yeah?” He asks, eyelashes fluttering just slightly. You nod.
“I like when you’re here… like this. And you don’t hold back on me.” He lifts his head a little and raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t think I’ve ever held back on you, when you’ve asked.” He reminds, and you hide your face, laughing into the pillow.
“Well maybe sometimes…” He admits, likely referencing all the times you’d beg him for ‘harder’ and he’d adjust his angle instead, already fucking you as hard as he felt comfortable with.
After a few seconds, he lets up a little to allow you to roll over, though he still hangs over you, chest to chest.
“I never liked leaving after.” He admits, dropping his lips to your cheek.
“I hated going back to my own bed, knowing you wouldn’t be with me in the morning. I don’t think I’ve ever said it but,” He lifts his head again and you stare up at him.
“Waking up with you in the mornings after we’d stayed together, it always felt like a battle to get up and leave. I always thought ‘today I don’t need to run. You can take a break’.”
“But you never did?” You wonder, and see the regret flash over his features.
“I should have. Maybe not all the time, but… I should have.” You purse your lips and try to catch his guilty eyes.
“Steve… I never wanted you to completely overhaul your life. I still don’t want you to do that. That part of you, the part that wants to help people and be there for them, I love that. It’s what fundamentally makes you you.” You push back the hair that hangs on his forehead and sigh, tracing the edges of his face now instead.
“I don’t care if six out of seven days a week you need to get up before me, as long as I have that seventh day…” His face softens from the self-judgement you could see reflected in his features and you smile.
“I just… I don’t know, I want to feel like at least a bit of a priority. I know that’s not always going to be possible, I get that… but…”
“I know. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t.”
“And last-minute cancellations should be the exception not the rule!” You joke, and he hangs his head again, but chuckles against the crook of your neck.
“Understood.”
You lay like that for a while, just relishing in one another's presence, feeling your chest’s rise and fall against each other. When he moves next, it’s because his phone buzzes loudly on the bedside table, and you watch him reach blindly out to grab it.
You play with the hair on his arm as he checks the message, the amused sigh he gives off a second later heavy against your chest.
“It’s Buck,” He tells you.
“Says the fellas are getting ready for a round at the pool table…” He trails off as another message comes through, and this time you see him roll his eyes, and chuck his phone to the side.
“He wants to know if you’re going to kiss the winner again.” Steve’s voice is amused still as he finally crawls off of you, and helps you up. You both know you can’t, and shouldn’t stay locked up here all night.
“Well, I tell you what, Rogers, you don’t go easy on Barnes again, and I’ll give you what I promised last time.”
For a moment Steve just frowns in confusion, but as it slowly dawns on him, a challenging, determined glint fills his eyes.
Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?
Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader
Story Rating : R
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.
Word Count : 6.2k
A/N : this is my first time writing Bucky and writing omegaverse, sorry if anything doesn't meet the usual standards of the genre.
MASTER LIST
Chapter One
You were shivering and he hated what that did to him.
Soaked clothes clung to your figure, leaving nothing to the imagination and betraying every little shiver.
He watched you fumble with your soaked purse for your phone, and heard your frustration a moment later as your call quickly cut out. You shook it, wiped the wet screen on your damp blouse, but he knew that wasn’t going to help matters. Judging from the state of you, the phone was waterlogged and you’d be lucky to get it working again.
You leaned back against your apartment door, kicking it with your heel, letting out the weakest string of cuss words he’d ever heard. It was almost adorable.
All the while, he was pressed against his apartment door, eye to the peephole, watching it all unfold. It wasn’t so much that he was spying on you. No, Bucky liked to think that he was making your life easier. You were such a timid little thing and, ever since you’d moved in across the hall, he’d done everything he could to be a good alpha and not make you uncomfortable.
He’d seen how skittish you were the first time your paths had crossed; him leaving his apartment, just as you were getting home from the grocery store, shock causing you to fumble and drop your bags. You’d barely been able to maintain eye contact as he handed you your Cookie Crunch cereal.
Of course, he didn’t hold it against you - how could he? You were an omega with no reason to trust him, and he knew it couldn’t be easy for you; being the only omega in the building, living across from the only alpha.
So, he’d taken to keeping an eye on you, making sure there were no more accidental meetings in the hallway and that you had no reason to fear him.
But now you were shivering and soaked from the storm raging outside, no coat over the blouse-skirt uniform you wore to work at Gracie’s diner. Had you walked three blocks in the rain without an umbrella? Hadn’t anyone tried to stop you? He found himself overwhelmed by the urge to help you, protect you and, before he realised he was doing it, he was slowly opening the door.
He couldn’t leave you out there, cold and shivering.
Your eyes widened and you shrank back a little. Bucky tried his best to give a friendly smile, making sure not to make any sudden moves or get any closer.
“Hey,” he said softly, “are you okay?”
“I -” your voice came out barely more than a shy whisper, “- I got locked out.”
“Did you call Glenn?” He asked, even though he knew you couldn’t, even though he knew your phone had died before you’d managed to get through to the building manager.
“My phone died,” you told him, holding it up as if you thought he might not believe you.
“Do you want me to call him for you?” He asked and you gave a timid nod. For a second he looked ready to turn and head back into his apartment for his phone, but then he saw you pull your arms around yourself, trembling even more violently. “Do you want to come in and get warm while you wait?”
He watched your eyes drop and let you take a few seconds to consider your options. It was late, far too late to go disturbing any of your beta neighbours and, he knew just how easy it was for omegas like you to get sick.
After a few seconds, you nodded.
“Okay,” he said softly, stepping back, giving you space to move into his apartment.
Your arms wrapped tighter around your body as you stepped over the threshold. He watched your nose twitch, obviously feeling a little overwhelmed by his scent.
“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure you as he slowly shut the door, “you’re safe, I promise. Wait here, I’ll grab you something warm.”
He didn’t wait for you to answer before quickly moving further into his apartment, heading into his bedroom. He was already starting to understand why the other residents of the building had taken to calling you little mouse. It turned his stomach upside down to think about how apprehensive you were and what might have happened to you to cause it.
You were still in the exact spot where he’d left you, still trembling and hugging yourself tight, clothes dripping on the carpet. (Though he quickly regretted looking down and seeing the way the drips from your clothes were running down your bare legs to your little white socks.)
“Here, you can borrow these,” he told you, handing you a dark hoodie and pair of sweatpants. “They might be a little big, but they’re warm.”
After taking them, you were ushered into the bathroom to dry yourself off and change, while he went to call the building manager. And, when you reemerged five minutes later, it took every ounce of restraint he had not to laugh at the sight of you, drowning in his clothes. He gave you space, waving a hand towards the sofa, indicating that you could sit if you wanted to.
You took a seat, peached on the very edge of the sofa.
“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he told you, realising that you hadn’t been officially introduced, even though he was sure you already knew his name like he knew yours.
You responded with your own name, then; “thank you for helping me.”
“That’s okay,” he replied before taking a very obvious pause, giving you an uncertain look. “I have some bad news though; it’s Glenn’s night off. He won’t be back until the morning.”
“Oh.”
He watched as you glanced around nervously.
“I told him you could stay here,” Bucky told you. You both knew that you didn’t have any other choice, so you didn’t bother to try and argue. All you offered was a little nod. “Are you hungry? I was gonna order a pizza.”
“I - I like pizza,” you told him, managing to force a smile to your lips.
It took some coaxing from him, but he found out what pizza you liked and ordered it. Then he put the TV on for you, there was some weird baking program on but you seemed happy enough with it, so he left it on. If anything, the background noise seemed to settle you a little and, after a while, you finally sat back on the sofa, almost disappearing in his hoodie.
“Are you warm enough?” He asked when he noticed you pulling the hood up and snuggling into it.
“I am now.”
Bucky let out a soft laugh, the sort of sound he didn’t make very often and you caught him looking at you with a gentle sort of smile. He couldn’t help it, there was just something so cute about you in that moment, though he almost felt bad the moment he noticed you shyly start to chew on your lip.
“So,” he started, not sure what he wanted to ask, just wanting to make conversation and hopefully set you a little more at ease with him, “what made you move here?”
“After the blip I was staying in an omega-only building, but when everyone came back, the building’s original owner put up the rent,” you shrugged.
He gave a knowing nod. It wasn’t easy for omegas, while there were laws to protect them against discrimination, because of their monthly heat cycles and how prone they were to getting sick, it was hard for them to hold down well-paid jobs. He assumed that was why you worked at the diner, where shifts could be planned and swapped easily.
“I guess it must be weird for you living here with mostly betas... and me...”
While he knew what it was like for him to have to live across the hall from you, he could only imagine how it felt for you. Alphas tended to learn at a young age to control themselves and to ignore day to day stimulus, but he knew omega’s had it worse, that their senses were heightened beyond even alphas. He’d catch your scent in the hallway from time to time, and he was certain you’d catch his.
“It’s okay. Everyone’s been really nice, and -” you hesitated shyly, “- and you’re being nice now.”
He didn’t ask what you meant by now. Bucky knew better than anyone what he could be like, how his gruff, withdrawn and sarcastic attitude could make people uncomfortable.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around an omega, and I -”
A sudden knock that the door startled you enough to make Bucky wince, completely losing his train of thought. He gave you an uncomfortable look before standing and heading to the door, muttering about how it must be the pizza.
Five minutes later, you were both sitting on his sofa, eating pizza. He made awkward small talk, asking if the food was okay, telling you a little about the pizzeria and how he’d found it a couple of months back and, little by little, your responses got slightly less reluctant. Eventually, you seemed to realise that you were safe and that he wasn’t going to hurt you. He wasn’t sure when or why that became important to him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel unsafe around him.
Life had to be hard enough for a lone omega without your alpha neighbour making it worse. And, besides, surely it would be easier for the both of you if you weren’t constantly jumping at each other’s shadows.
Before he could say anything, he noticed you looking at his vibranium hand. Or rather, trying really hard not to look at his hand. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that he wasn’t wearing his gloves - why would he when he was sitting on his own sofa?
“It’s okay,” he said, shrugging, “you can ask.”
Shame flashed on your face and he could tell you were uncomfortable. “Did you have an accident?”
“Yeah, a very long time ago.”
“Oh, well... I’m glad you’re okay...”
For a moment he felt his lips almost pull into a smile, any discomfort he’d felt instantly washing away with your words.
“I, uh, heard you like to draw?” It came out more like a question and had you looking at him seeming a little confused.
“Yeah, a little,” you answered. “I’m not very good though. Who told you?”
“Nikki from downstairs,” he explained and you gave a little nod. “Her and Jade really seem to like you, they’re always talking about you.”
It made you smile, and that smile settled him a little. It was going better than he’d dared to hope and you no longer seemed afraid of him. In fact, you started volunteering information without being prompted.
“They’ve both been really nice,” you told him, “they asked me to go out with them on Friday when I get off work.”
He smiled. “Girls night out?”
“Yeah, though... well, it’s been a really long time since I went on a night out...”
Bucky gave a knowing nod, knowing it probably wasn’t easy for you as an unclaimed omega.
“I’m sure Niikki and Jade will look out for you,” he reassured you.
Conversation from there got a little easier; he told you that he grew up in Brooklyn and that he’d been in the army, and you told him about work and how you’d seen him in Gracie’s Diner a couple of times. You’d never served him, Gracie had rules about that. She was an elderly, take-no-shit sort of woman, and was one of the few employers you’d come across who genuinely went out of her way to look out for the omega’s working for her.
After the conversation reached a natural conclusion, Bucky got up, gathering the dirty plates and the pizza box, and headed for the kitchen. He didn’t even realise that you’d followed after until he turned to find you standing there, and almost jumped out of his skin.
“Sorry,” you almost recoiled at his shock, “I just - can I have a glass of water?”
He looked at you for a moment, completely taken aback - it wasn’t often that anyone managed to sneak up on him - then he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
“Yeah sure,” he handed you a glass, biting back a laugh, “now I get when they call you mouse, you’re so quiet.”
You let out a little laugh, shyly dropping your gaze as you moved around him to the sink. Bucky bit his lip, catching your scent as you stepped past him, and he instantly hated himself for how much he enjoyed your sweet smell.
His eyes followed you as you returned to the sofa, took a drink, and then let out the cutest little yawn he’d ever seen.
“Tired?” He asked, moving back towards you, but not sitting down.
“A little,” you shrug. “The dinner rush at Gracie’s was really hectic.”
He gave an understanding nod before starting to think about the sleeping arrangements. Under normal circumstances, he might have offered you his bed but, even if he changed the sheets that he rarely slept on, he was certain being in his bedroom would overwhelm your omega senses.
“I can get you some bedding and you can sleep on the sofa?” He offered, looking at you and then looking at the sofa, certain it was big enough for you to get a comfortable night’s sleep.
You glanced at your watch, seeming almost embarrassed when you realised it was only 10pm.
“You don’t have to yet -” you started to protest.
“It’s fine, really,” Bucky told you with a gentle smile.
You gave a couple more weak protests as he went to grab you some pillows and a blanket, but you still got to your feet and helped him set up a little makeshift bed on the sofa for you. He then paused, taking in the sight of you, drowning in his clothes.
“Are you gonna be warm enough?”
At just the mention you seemed to snuggle further into his oversized hoodie.
“I’ll be fine,” you said with a sweet smile before fighting back another yawn. “Thank you, Bucky.”
After some awkward shuffling about, making sure you had everything you needed, telling you to help yourself if you needed another drink, and giving you the TV remote, Bucky finally left you to get some sleep.
He felt awful for making you sleep on the sofa, but there was really no way you would have been comfortable in his room. It was still early, at least by his standards, but he grabbed his sheet and pillow and settled himself on the floor by the window, content to read for a few hours before trying to get some sleep.
He didn’t stir until around 2am a hazy nightmare ripping him from sleep. For a few minutes he sat, trying to calm his racing heart before realising that he needed to use the bathroom, and that was going to mean sneaking past you.
It took ten minutes for him to build up the nerve to try to sneak to the bathroom without disturbing you. Moving slowly, he crept from his bedroom and slowly made his way through the den towards the bathroom, but he couldn’t help but stop and look at your sleeping form. Somehow you seemed even smaller when you were sleeping, tightly curled up on your side, your face hidden somewhere in the hood of his hoodie.
For a few seconds, he lingered, listening to the soft sound of your breathing before starting to feel a little bit creepy, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he finally reached the bathroom.
Once the door was closed and locked behind him, he was immediately overwhelmed by your sweet scent left on the towel you’d used to dry yourself and the damp clothes you’d left neatly folded on the radiator. He hated himself for the way his cock twitched and the way he lifted the towel to his nose.
Your scent stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in years, a sort of longing that left him feeling uncertain, fighting against the urge to go to you and -
Fuck.
He didn’t know what he wanted to do. His cock twitched again at the thought of burying his face against your neck and pressing his nose to your gland. A wildly inappropriate thought that had his alpha urges starting to stir, wanting to claim you as his.
That thought made him feel worse; there you were, finally letting your guard down and starting to trust him and all he could think about was how good your tight little body would feel wrapped around his cock...
He felt like he was losing his mind.
It was your scent, the fact he hadn’t been this close to an omega in years and, now, it felt like you were everywhere.
He grimaced as he took a piss, then he started to pace, not wanting to have to sneak back past you when he was at half-mast. But the longer he stayed in the bathroom, the more your sweet omega scent got to him, driving him crazy.
Gritting his teeth, and hating himself more than ever, he reached into his sweatpants and started to stroke his aching cock. His free hand reached for your damp blouse and held it to his face, and he lost himself in thoughts of you. It wasn’t long before he was coming all over his hand, barely biting back his desperate grunts of pleasure, muffling them with your blouse.
Then, finally, he was able to sneak back to his room and spend the night thinking about how much of an asshole he was.
The next morning he got up early, sneaking past the little curled up bundle on the sofa and letting himself out of the apartment. He managed to get your key from the building manager and make it back upstairs before you woke, and you seemed more than happy to get out of there as quickly as possible once you were awake.
You did stop to give him a thank you hug, and Bucky damn near asked you to stay but, thankfully, you didn’t seem to want to linger.
Once you were gone, he went through his apartment, opening all the windows, trying to get rid of your intoxicating smell before heading out for the day.
The next day he came home to find a box in front of his apartment door. On top of it, there was an envelope with his name in large, looping letters, and beneath it was a bundle of clothing. The clothes you had borrowed. Cautiously, he reached for the envelope, opening it to find a thank you card from you. You had signed your name followed by three little x’s.
Opening the box, he realised it was an apple pie from Gracie’s, the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filling his nose, but it was the scent coming from the clothes you borrowed that really got to him. His cock twitched just at the thought and had him quickly unlocking the door to his apartment, wanting to get inside and try to get himself under control again.
Over the next few days, he did his best to avoid you, knowing it was best for both of you if he kept his distance, but fate seemed to have other plans.
First it was in the hallway, you leaving for an evening shift at the diner just as he was getting home; you smiled and made small talk, asking how he was and if he’d enjoyed the apple pie. Somehow it ended with him offering to walk you to work and then offering to meet you to walk you home. He insisted despite you telling him that he didn’t have to. The streets of New York late at night just weren’t safe for an unclaimed omega on her own. And, despite his discomfort, he knew he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to you.
He saw the looks he got as he waited outside Gracie’s for you, the smirks and the smiles, and the look of embarrassment that fell over your face when Gracie whispered something to you. But that didn’t stop it becoming a regular thing over the next two weeks.
Then there was laundry night, a night that had been a tactical affair for Bucky for as long as he’d lived in the building; every Wednesday after nine when no one else was around. But there you were, chatting with Nikki from downstairs who’d decided to follow you to catch up with the gossip.
He was about to turn back and slip away unnoticed, until -
“Hey Bucky,” Nikki called out.
He forced a smile to his lips and raised his hand in an awkward wave as he approached, and you gave him that shy little smile that always made his heart beat a little faster. He watched as Nikki’s eyes moved from him to you and back again, a barely suppressed grin tugging at her lips.
“We were just talking about my birthday on Friday,” she told him, giving you a sly little glance, “you should come out with us.”
“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, quickly focusing his attention on getting his laundry in the washer so he could get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Come on Bucky, we need a big scary alpha to make sure the other alpha’s leave mouse alone,” Nikki continued.
If he hadn’t looked at you, he wouldn’t have noticed your sudden discomfort or the way you were chewing the inside of your cheek. Clearly there was more to Nikki’s comment than she was letting on.
“What other alphas?” He asked.
“It’s nothing,” you muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”
If Nikki noticed your discomfort, she certainly didn’t let it stop her from explaining; “last week some douchebag alpha spent half the night bothering her.”
“What?” He barely managed to rein in his annoyance, the instinct that told him you were to be protected, that you were some weak and helpless thing.
“Asshole kept asking when her heat was and if she needed company,” Nikki continued.
“He was just drunk, it wasn’t that bad,” you sighed.
“You’re too nice for your own good, mouse,” Nikki told you, shaking her head. “If me and Jade hadn’t been there...”
She didn’t need to say it. It wasn’t a secret how some alphas could be, how some didn’t want to take no for an answer, especially since the blip; so many of them returned to find their omega had moved on with their lives or, some, moved on without their omegas. But, just because the world was a mess, Bucky didn’t think you deserved to have to deal with some prick of an alpha who didn’t respect your boundaries.
You let out a sigh and gave a weak shrug. “Maybe I shouldn’t go if you think it’s gonna cause problems...”
“What? No, that’s now why I’m saying, you have to -”
“I can probably come for a couple of hours,” Bucky offered. He hated how dejected you looked, hated that you felt like you had to miss out on having fun with your friends because you didn’t feel safe.
“Really?” You asked, trying to hold back the smile that was desperate to spread across your face.
“Yeah,” he conceded, “but just for a couple of hours.”
Nikki reached over, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “You’re the best, Bucky.”
Fortunately for him, ten minutes later, the pair of you were done with your laundry and he was left to sit in relative silence with his book, wondering just how much he was going to regret agreeing to go out with you.
(A lot. The answer was a lot.)
He opted to meet you all at the bar about half an hour after everyone got there, managing to slip in unnoticed and take up at the bar, out of the way, but able to keep an eye on things, watching you on the dancefloor. That was why he was there; he was just making sure no one harassed you or tried to ruin your night. But he didn’t stay undiscovered for long.
You smiled as your eyes met his, leaning against the bar, waiting for your drink. He watched, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned as you knocked back a tequila shot and washed it down with a mouthful of beer. Your nose wrinkled at the taste, but he didn’t say anything until you purposefully looked his way again.
“What?” You asked him, noticing how he was watching you.
“What?” He repeated.
You moved closer to his side, your smile widening.
“You were watching me.”
“It’s just - you’re really not what I thought,” he told you, awkwardly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His stomach knotted the moment you started to frown, it was almost enough to make him wince.
“You’re just... you’re not like other omegas,” The moment he said it, Bucky seemed to realise how it sounded. Grimacing, he fumbled over an explanation. “I mean, you’re different from other omegas and tonight you just seem - I don’t know, I just feel like I’m seeing a new side of you.”
Your eyebrow rose and you just stared at him, lost for words.
“I’m sorry,” he tried again, “It’s just been a long time since I -”
“Talked to another human being?” You offered before cracking a smile.
“Yeah, something like that,” he said, giving a little smile of his own and falling silent.
He hoped that the conversation was over and that you’d return to the dancefloor, but you didn’t. Instead you stood right there, carrying on the awkward silence until the song changed and you had a terrible idea.
“D’you maybe wanna come dance?” You offered and he quickly flashed you a look that could only be described as pure fear. He shook his head, watching in horror as you reached for his arm and started to tug. You knew you couldn’t move him, but that didn’t stop you from trying. “C’mon, stop being a party-pooper.”
He let you struggle for a moment, hoping beyond hope that you’d get bored but, when you didn’t, he let out a sigh and knocked back his beer before getting to his feet.
Your grin spread from ear to ear as you tugged him onto the dancefloor, ignoring the fact that his expression was stuck somewhere between amused and terrified. He didn’t dance. In fact, he pretty much just stood there awkwardly until you grabbed his arms and forced some movement into his body, all while biting your lip and trying to stifle your laughter.
After a couple of songs he let you pull him back towards the bar with everyone else for another round of shots, chasing your tequila with beer again. He tried to take the opportunity to slink back to his seat, but the moment he started edging away, your arm wrapped around his, forcing him into the conversation.
When everyone returned to the dancefloor, you pulled him along with you, your hand dropping to hold his and squeezing tighter.
The music got more lively as the night went on and, as the bar started to fill, you found yourself moving closer and closer, until your body was pressed against his.
You barely seemed to notice your proximity to him, but Bucky noticed. His arm moved around your waist, keeping you safe from being jostled by other dancers and making sure the other alphas around knew that you were off-limits. He watched you as you lost yourself in the music and enjoyed the night.
At some point your hand ended you on his chest, and you were close enough that every sway of your hips had you brushing against him. Despite how crowded the room was, all he could smell was your sweet scent.
Every slow, deep breath he took, trying to keep himself in check, made it worse. And, when you leaned against him completely, looking up at him, he almost lost his mind.
“D’you want to get out of here?” You asked him.
The rational part of his mind told him that you meant you wanted to go home; the club was noisy and full, and it was probably wreaking havoc on your sensitive omega senses but, for a moment, he dared to hope that it meant more.
“Sure,” he told you with a smile.
As you made your way outside, he kept his arm around you, helping you navigate the crowd until you were finally outside in the cool night air. You decided to walk home and Bucky was honestly glad of the relative quiet of the New York streets versus the noise of the bar, and he was happy to walk side by side with you, only sparing you the occasional glance and smile.
“What?” You asked when you caught one of those smiles.
“Nothing,” he shook his head.
You nudged him with your elbow. “Tell me.”
“I was just thinking about the first time we met,” he explained, shaking his head, “you were so timid.”
“That was before I got to know you,” you shrugged. “I thought you were just the grumpy alpha who lived across the hall.”
“Grumpy?” He looked at you, offended.
“Very grumpy,” you smiled.
“And now?”
You looked at him, shyly biting your lip and fighting back a smile.
“Still deciding,” you answered playfully.
Bucky held the door open for you as you made your way into your building, grinning and giggling as you both boarded the elevator to the fourth floor.
It wasn’t long before you came to a stop outside of your apartment, and he watched you, waiting for you to open the door and slip inside, wanting to know that you were home safe and sound.
Instead you looked at him for a moment before surging forward and pressing your lips to his. You lingered for a few seconds while he was completely paralysed by shock. When you pulled back, you bit your lip nervously, obviously forcing yourself to maintain eye contact while Bucky came to terms with what you’d just done.
“You’ve been drinking,” he said softly, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to let you down gently, or trying to talk himself out of doing something he might regret.
“Not a lot,” you answered, rising up to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth while your hands gripped his jacket.
“I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret...”
“I won’t regret it. I’ve wanted this for weeks,” you told him, pressing against him and feeling his arm slip around your waist. “Ever since I first caught your scent in the hallway... I thought it was gonna trigger my heat...”
A low rumble sounded in the back of his throat and the arm around your waist pulled tighter.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, this time not bothering to hide the way he was breathing in your sweet scent, the smell that had been haunting him for weeks.
You looked up, your pupils already dilated with arousal, staring at him in a way that had his last shred of control fraying completely. You bit your lip as you nodded, and that was all he needed from you.
Bucky fumbled for his keys, barely loosening his hold on you as he led you into his apartment, turning to kiss you the second the door was shut. He groaned as you whimpered against his lips, eagerly pressing against him, clinging to his jacket as he picked you up and carried you towards his bedroom. The kiss broke and your face pressed against his neck, letting out another little moan as you inhaled his scent.
His arms tightened around you, his alpha instincts desperate to take over, as he sat on the edge of his bed, you on his lap. He kissed you again, groaning against your lips as he felt your hips starting to rock against his. After shrugging out of his jacket and pulling off his gloves, he started to pull open your blouse, his hands trailing over every newly exposed inch of skin.
Your hands tugged at his shirt, urging it up over his head, and his heart almost stopped when he saw the way you were looking at him, drinking in the sight of him. You ran a hand down his chest and over the defined ridges of his abs before reaching the buckle of his belt. Looking up, you held his gaze as you slowly unbuckled him and started to work on the fastening.
Another noise sounded in the back of his throat, something barely restrained, something that wanted, needed. And you didn’t disappoint. Your hand slipped into his jeans and wrapped around his cock, pulling it out so you could start to stroke it. His breath caught when your eyes met his, glassy with need, your omega instincts starting to take control. You kissed him again, desperate and eager, as your hand worked up and down the length of his cock.
You surprised him when you pulled away, when you dropped to your knees in front of him and started to tug his pants and boxers down. Bucky lifted himself, helping you drag them down to his ankles.
He wanted to say something, wanted to tell you how perfect you looked as you looked up at him, as your hand gripped his cock again, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he reached for you, cupping your cheek tenderly before letting his fingers slip down to your neck to ghost over your mating gland. A soft moan escaped you and there was a palpable spike in your arousal, the whole room seeming to fill with your sweet scent.
Bucky breathed deeply, taking it all in, letting out a groan of his own when he realised there was another scent in the air; the tart scent of your slick.
Before he could even think, you started to nuzzle against his thigh gland, rubbing yourself against him scenting him while also coating yourself in his musk. You were giving yourself to him so completely, and there was nothing more arousing to him.
Your hand started to move again, slipping up and down his cock, causing a pearly glob of precum to form on his tip, and he about damn-near lost his mind when you leaned forward to lick it up. His tip continued to leak as you looked up at him through your lashes and started to take him into your mouth.
The tart smell of slick only seemed to get thicker as you started to suck him, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, until he felt himself nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but remained fixed on his, lips pulling back before sinking down again.
It wasn’t until his head dropped back that Bucky realised his mistake.
You moved so suddenly, your lips pulling away from him, your hand reaching for your boot.
He saw the knife just in time to stop it from piercing his chest, his vibranium arm catching your wrist and twisting it.
You struggled against him, jaw clenched, any sign of arousal now completely gone from your face despite the way the smell of it still hung in the air.
“What the fuck?” He demanded, gripping you tight.
You didn’t answer save for letting out a sound of indignation and anger, pure rage on your face as you struggled against him. He wasn’t going to let you go until he got some answers, until he figured out just what the fuck was going on.
But you threw a punch, then another, first catching him on the cheek before getting him square in the nose. It was enough of a distraction to cause him to loosen his grip, and that was all you needed.
Pulling away, you sprinted from his room. He tried to follow after and almost tripped, running and pulling his pants up as he went.
You left his apartment and darted into your own, locking the door behind you.
By the time he’d kicked the door down, you were already halfway down the fire escape. He climbed out of the window, ready to follow, watching as you had to jump down to the street below, falling awkwardly. He started after you but then he stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could do; despite the hour, there were too many people around, and if a sweet little omega like you started screaming about the big scary alpha, no one was going to believe his side of things.
Swearing under his breath, he turned and headed back to his apartment, pulling out his phone. One way or another, he was going to find you and he was going to find out what the fuck was going on.
End Note : anyone new to my fics... sorry for the twist, it's just what I do 😅 So, yeah, this is my first time writing omegaverse and my first time writing Bucky. It's set post Falcon and the Winter Solider and post blip. Will I follow canon strictly? Probably not. Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I don't have a set upload schedule for this fic, but I'm going to try to update it at least once a month.
If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!
can you write a post sex aftercare in the shower with bucky please? just sweet and established relationship, maybe light praise kink
a/n: idk why it went in this specific direction, but i just decided to go with it lol
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
“Careful now!” Bucky chuckled as he caught your unsteady frame.
Gripping onto his forearms as you steadied your footing on the cool tile in the shower, you sent your still hazy gaze down upon the shower’s edge that had tripped your jelly-like legs.
“Fucking hell,” you let out a huff, “couldn’t you just have kept it quick and gentle instead of pounding me till my legs completely stopped working?”
His dark brows then softly knit together as one of his hands let go of you to reach behind himself and switch on the water, “hey, I was just following your command, sweetheart,” he smirked as the spray from above began to rain down on him.
Drawing you in close to his nude form, he slowly twisted you both around till you were the one under the showerhead.
“Always the good soldier,” you breathed as your knees continued to wobble and you slid both of your arms up around his neck.
“For you?” his strong fingers, which had only moments earlier greedily pumped inside of you and caused you to lose count of the intense orgasms he’d flooded your system with, this time floated up to brush gently through your hair as the water began to soak it all, caressing you tenderly as he then promised you with a smile, “always…”
It was a windy mid-October day in Brooklyn, New York. A perfect day to be spending walking in Central Park. Or- in Steve Kemp's way- moving into a new house. The cannibal had moved to avoid the cops and have a fresh start. New city, new targets, new meat. That's what this was supposed to be about, right?
Steve Rogers however, was doing exactly what was mentioned before- walking in Central Park. The super-soldier had recently given up the shield and his mantle as Captain America in hopes for a peaceful life. He had been given a chance to go back to the past and live his life out with Peggy. However, he remembered Peggy saying she lived a good life without him and decided not to screw with time. Now, the blonde's focus was on trying to find a new purpose in his life.
Reader sighed. She hated her job as a insurance agent. She would rather be outside on this gorgeous day instead of stuck in her cramped, musty smelling office. Three more hours until she would be free from torture. Suddenly, the office fills with a melodic sound, making Reader jump. Reader grabbed her phone, smiling to herself. She had recently signed up for a dating app and she had just matched with a guy named Steve. Steve told her to meet him at a bar called Clover Club at 9 p.m. that night. Reader sent a reply before putting her phone down, smiling. Her day just got a little bit brighter.
"Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Harper's on the phone." Your assistant, Riley, informs you while poking her head into your office. "He's asking if you're available for that meeting tomorrow."
That night, at Clover's Club, there are two men and one woman who are about to have their lives' changed forever. Steve Kemp, Steve Rogers, and Y/N Y/L/N.
Ok, I tried but I can't resist any longer. I'm sitting on the first three chapters of this and I love it so much. I want to share it now 🤭
Congressman/Thunderbolt Bucky Barnes x F!Congresswoman Reader.
Warnings/ratings/notes: language, political setting (literally I only know what Google, Hamilton and the West Wing has taught me!), yearning, longing, Bucky trying so hard to be better, he falls first - she falls harder, banter and arguing, enemies-to-lovers that’s really frustrated co-workers-to-lovers, a little Thunderbolt chaos.... I think that's it for now?
Word Count: 4k
Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Strategic Interests - Chapter 1
You’re an ambitious Congresswoman. Progressive, blunt, brilliant... And utterly furious that Bucky Barnes, this former assassin-turned-Congressman within your party, is somehow beloved by the public despite being decorative at best.
And the worst part?
He knows he’s not as qualified. But he also knows he listens. He learns. And he watches you run circles around people with twice your power. He starts to wonder if he’s falling for the only person who won’t let him forget what he used to be - or who he still might become.
Chapter 1
He was flailing.
Going down like the Titanic and taking any remaining dignity with him. A pretty poster-boy Congressman with not a single unscripted thought in that (admittedly) gorgeous head. Mealy-mouthed. Hollow. Absolutely drowning. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the carnage.
“The rumours of wrongdoing are very worrying. They are… they’re very concerning. And worrying.”
Christ. It was getting worse. Like watching someone trip in slow motion, arms windmilling, a tray of drinks airborne. You winced sympathetically - but only a little. Then, with some considerable effort, you turned to the bank of microphones and cameras in front of you.
“If Director de Fontaine has nothing to hide,” you said, bright and clear and utterly lethal, “she should welcome the investigation. Transparency isn’t optional, especially when national security’s on the line. I intend to work with Congressman Gary to ensure we get the answers we’re owed.”
A flicker of a smile. A practiced nod. The press parting before you like the Red Sea. Behind you, Barnes was still muttering apologies.
He caught up to you down the corridor, away from the cameras.
“You could at least try to sound interested, Barnes,” you said, not breaking stride. “You get everything handed to you and still show up late to every goddamn meeting with the attention span of a houseplant.”
He didn’t flinch. Just smiled. That lazy, infuriating smile.
“You’re cute when you’re mad.”
You didn’t look at him. Just kept walking.
“And you’re desperate when you’re flailing. Did that line come from a focus group too?”
He laughed quietly behind you, and you heard the rhythm of his footsteps quicken to catch up.
At the hearing room doors, he stepped ahead and held one open for you, all courtly manners and mischief.
“After you,” he said graciously.
You paused just long enough to meet his eyes. “Thank you, Congressman.”
“Anytime,” he murmured. You watched his eyes drop to your mouth as he spoke.
The hearing was already packed. You squeezed through the crowd, nodding a few hellos and tossing a few warm smiles around, and slipped into a row with a couple of spare seats. Barnes did a token sweep for another seat, then sat beside you anyway. You slid along a little more to make space, but his thigh still pressed against yours in the tight space.
He was watching the panel. You were watching everything else.
Not just the speakers, though you nodded along at the right moments, flipped through your briefing with quiet precision, underlined something with a swift drag of your pen. But your eyes tracked the room, the audience, the reactions. Calculated, clinical.
You looked bored, but he’d seen men put bullets in heads with less focus.
When Congressman Gary pivoted to the question of “unauthorised experimentation on enhanced individuals” - that’s when you started writing in earnest. Not the scattered notes of a bored politician trying to look busy. Your pen moved with purpose and resolve. He couldn’t help himself.
He leaned in.
“Taking names?” he murmured.
You didn’t look up. “Something like that.”
You crossed one leg over the other, the slit of your skirt slipping open. Without missing a beat, you tucked the hem under your notepad.
Next to you, Barnes shifted on the wooden bench - not uncomfortably, but deliberately. Like he was making sure you noticed.
“Do you mind?” you hissed, eyes still forward.
“Not at all,” he murmured, maddeningly calm. “I just think it’s funny.”
You glanced at him, unimpressed.
“The whole ice queen act,” he added, voice low. “You don’t wear it as well as you think.”
You didn’t answer - wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, you turned back toward the front, just as Congressman Gary started dressing down Valentina.
He leaned closer. “Tell me again how I don’t belong here. I like the sound of you angry.”
“You’re pissing me off, Barnes. I should hate you.”
His smile curled slow and dangerous. “Then do it harder.”
The panel called recess.
You stood quickly. “Read the packets. Stop expecting everyone else to clean up after you. You’ve been given a platform and I’m sick of asking you to use it.”
“I’d never expect that from you, Congresswoman.” He was still seated, eyes on yours. “You coming to Oversight and Reform this afternoon?”
“Why? Need someone to hold your hand?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing. You taking control.” A pause, then a whisper, low and rich: “Not the first time either, I’d bet.”
You froze for half a second - heat licking your spine - then shoved it down.
“Congressman Barnes,” you said, voice clipped, “excuse me. Some of us have a little more to do than standing around and looking pretty.”
You didn’t wait for a response. You just walked - and hated that you could feel his eyes on your back the whole way.
~~~~
You bounced from meeting to meeting, replied to constituent emails through your lunch (half a sandwich and doughnut from one of your staffers birthday celebrations).
By the time the afternoon rolled around you could feel a dull thud behind your eyes and tension in your shoulders.
The Oversight and Reform chamber was already buzzing when you arrived, your team filtering into the back row while aides scrambled with coffee and colour-coded folders. Barnes was, predictably, late. Again.
You took your seat, adjusted the mic, and caught your reflection in the monitor ahead. Composed. Sharp. Unbothered.
Then came the chair scrape.
He'd strolled in with that infuriating mix of deliberate calm and coiled tension - like someone used to walking into dangerous rooms and pretending they weren’t. You knew better. Everyone with a clearance file did.
Still, he had the nerve to be five minutes late and act like he owned the place.
His seat was two down from yours. You could still feel the weight of him.
The committee chair banged the gavel and called the meeting to order.
It didn’t take long for Barnes to say something you didn't agree with. It seldom did.
“I think what the Congresswoman meant to say is that the committee has a duty to ensure transparency - even if it means questioning institutions we usually trust.”
You felt your spine straighten.
You didn’t let it slide.
“Excuse me, Madam Chairwoman,” you said coolly, “but I don’t need Congressman Barnes to interpret my words for me. I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself. Shocking, I know - a woman in Congress with opinions. I’d like to remind him that some of us actually worked damn hard to get here. We weren’t all voted in on a pretty face.”
The assembled press pool gasped. Flashbulbs lit up the room briefly. You returned to your notes with a slight shake of your head like you hadn’t just cut him off at the knees.
With a slow tilt of his head, Barnes smiled. “And I’d like to remind the Congresswoman that former Hydra assassins probably have to work just as hard to have our opinions heard. It’s not a competition - though it’s useful to know you think it was the face that got me elected.”
“Well it sure wasn’t the resume,” you replied, not missing a beat.
He leaned back slightly, cool as ice. “It got your attention, sweetheart.”
The press pool giggled.
You didn’t.
He should’ve stopped there. But no - Barnes always had to win.
“Also, that’s twice today you’ve called me pretty. Careful, Congresswoman - keep that up, I’ll start thinking you’re going soft on me.”
You felt the breath catch in your throat - not from the words, but the ease with which he said them. Like he knew exactly how to pull the pin and wait for you to go off.
God, you wanted to snap. You could already see the headline: “Firebrand Congresswoman Loses Cool with Ex-Assassin Heartthrob.”
So instead, you smiled. Controlled. Polite. Lethal.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to manage your expectations, Congressman. I don’t do soft. Not in committee. And certainly not for you.”
You didn’t look at him - but you didn’t have to. You felt it.
The shift.
The silence.
The slight, involuntary pull of breath before he looked away with a smirk.
You claimed that win.
Barely.
The hearing adjourned in a flurry of papers, aides swooping in with updates, and whispered questions. You stood, collected your notes, and didn’t look at him.
But you could feel him behind you - that annoying heat, the sense of someone who hadn’t earned their seat but still filled the room like he had.
“Congresswoman,” he said as you turned toward the exit.
You paused, just enough to make him think you might listen.
Then you looked over your shoulder, expression flat. “Late. Under-prepared. Cocky.”
He arched a brow, held out his hands. “Guilty as charged.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
He stepped closer, dropping his voice. “You’re not wrong, you know.”
That made you pause.
“I was late. I didn’t prep enough. But I watched you.” His eyes locked on yours, unexpectedly steady. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be the only one taking this seriously.”
You blinked. Once.
Then you smirked - just enough to throw him off.
“I’ll believe it when I see it, Barnes.”
And then you walked away.
But your pulse was kicking just a little too fast.
And behind you, he watched you go like he was starting to realise exactly what he’d signed up for.
~~~~
Valentina’s fundraiser was in full swing when Bucky arrived, late, because of course he was. Black tie, polished boots, every inch of him scrubbed into something presentable. He hated these things - the glad-handing, the fake smiles, the hunger for power of those who thought they were gods.
Still, he could play the game when he had to. And tonight, he had to. He had to get to the bottom of whatever Valentina was up to.
He moved through the crowd with practiced ease, nodding where he needed to, eyes skimming until they landed -
There.
She was laughing - low, smoky - at something Congressman Gary had just said, one hand grazing his arm as she leaned in to make her point.
The dress should’ve been illegal. Dark, shimmering, backless. Red lips, bare skin, and a smile like she’d already won.
He didn’t just see her. He felt her - a punch to the gut, precise and inevitable.
He’d meant to head for the bar.
Instead, he stood there, thinking one thing, and one thing only:
He was in so much trouble.
“Looks like Doug’s in trouble,” he heard someone snigger behind him. Someone from Treasury,
“Nah, he’s soft on her. Calls her the lioness. If she’s on your side, she’s loyal as fuck.” Someone else replied.
“Yeah but if you cross her, she’ll fucking eat you alive! You seen the way she chews out people in her own party?” They turned, spotting Bucky before he could sneak away. “She’s had you a few times, Barnes.”
“Pretty sure you’re her current snack.”
“Good news is, if you make it out, she’ll stand by you.”
“Unless you do something stupid.”
“Story of my life,” Bucky told them wryly, raising his glass. “‘Scuse me fellas, gotta go into the lioness’s den.”
~~~~
You looked him up and down over the rim of your champagne flute, hoping the glass distracted from where your eyes were traveling. The suit fitted him beautifully. Tailored - it had to be, off the rack would never have fitted across his broad shoulders. The bow tie was crisp and tied perfectly. He nodded politely at Congressman Gary and made a beeline for one of the exhibits. You watched him carefully offer his card to Valentina's closest aide — Meg? Belle? Mel! Disappointment washed over you; you'd thought better of him.
Mel glanced over at you, catching your eye for just a second before turning back to Bucky with a tight smile. Clearly, she’d learned how to handle Barnes better than you had.
You shifted your weight, straightening the skirt of your dress, feeling the prick of heat in your cheeks - not from the room, but because Bucky Barnes had just shown you a side you hadn’t expected. And you didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Congressman Gary’s voice cut through the din, “You’re watching him like he’s a stray dog. Planning to collar him?”
You forced a smirk, “More like figuring out if he’s worth the trouble.”
Doug laughed softly. “Always so cautious. I like that. And I think he likes being caught by you.”
You rolled your eyes at him, your mentor and friend, then your eyes flicked back to Bucky, still deep in conversation with Mel. Charming, of course. He always was. But the tilt of his shoulders gave him away - too stiff for comfort, too still for someone enjoying himself.
Good, you thought. Let him sweat a little.
When Barnes approached again, laser-focused on Congressman Gary, you made your excuses to leave.
“Congresswoman, you’re leaving?” His voice held a note of disappointment - or maybe it was something else. You weren’t sure if you imagined it.
“Not at all,” you said coolly, lifting your glass. “Just in need of more champagne.”
He smirked, eyes flickering to your glass and back up to your face.
“Is that your polite way of escaping me?”
You rolled your eyes and turned away, the soft click of your heels barely masking the flutter in your chest.
You watched from the bar as he led Congressman Gary to a dark corner in an area you knew was a camera black-spot. He was up to something, and you didn’t like it.
It wasn’t that you disagreed with his policies. It was that you resented how effortlessly he got there. The fame. The name. The jawline. Meanwhile, you’d been fighting tooth and nail for every vote, every headline, every ounce of credibility. And then along came Captain America’s brooding bestie, soaking up goodwill and soft-ball interviews like they were oxygen.
You narrowed your eyes. That wasn’t just politics; that was maneuvering. And you were damn sure he wasn’t just making friends with Doug.
The thought made your teeth clench.
You wanted to find out exactly what kind of game he was playing.
When he joined you at the bar, you did your best to ignore him.
“Get you a drink?” he asked. “Something better than cheap champagne?”
“Negroni, please.”
“Nice choice.” He raised a hand to the bartender, who slid over your negroni and a whiskey for him.
“Interesting chat with Congressman Gary?”
You sipped. “I could ask you the same thing?
“Just making conversation.”
“Well, I’m having dinner with his wife next week.”
He grinned. “Maybe we should make it a double date.”
“I don’t think so, Barnes. Didn’t you already spend the night working your charm on Valentina’s staffer?”
“Mel?” He scoffed. “That wasn’t flirting.”
You raised your glass with a polite smile. “Sure it wasn’t. Thanks for the drink.”
You stepped away, leaving him standing there with his grin - and whatever game he thought he was playing.
To your frustration, he followed you.
“Why’d you ask?” he feigned indifference. “Jealous?”
You glanced at the plaque, deliberately not looking at him. “Hardly. I don’t date.”
“Neither do I.” His smirk grew.
“But you’ll chat up twenty-something aides?”
“There you go again, Congresswoman.”
“Don’t misread me,” you said firmly. “I'm looking out for her, not you.”
He leaned in, voice low. “Told you - you’re soft.”
You didn’t answer. But the heat in your cheeks gave you away.
He stepped back, smug. “Not that I mind. Keeps things interesting.”
You exhaled a quiet laugh. “There are far more interesting things in this room than me, Barnes.”
He gave you a look that landed like a challenge. “I’m not so sure about that, ma’am.”
You caught the flicker in his eyes. Genuine, curious, dangerous, and turned away before it could spark anything more.
~~~~
A few days later, you were at your desk by 7:30, coffee in hand, notes spread in a perfect semicircle. The Capitol skyline was just coming to life when your aide, Kara, breezed in armed with her tablet and breakfast.
“Morning,” she said, barely looking up from the screen. “The press secretary’s flagged your quote from last night’s energy subcommittee. They want approval to push it to Politico. It’s sharp, but not too sharp. I think it hits.”
You nodded. “Tell her yes, but ask if she can thread in the clean energy jobs angle.”
Kara tapped quickly. “Noted. Also, I confirmed the reservation for Le Diplomate tonight, 7:30. Congressman Gary’s wife requested the patio.”
You laughed fondly. “Brave of Jenny. The forecast says rain.”
“She says she likes the risk.”
“Then maybe she’d enjoy politics more than her husband does.”
Kara grinned, scrolling. “One more: Congresswoman Alvarez’s daughter had the twins last night. You want to send something?”
“To both of them, please. Get the florist on E Street. Peonies if they have them for Ally, sunflowers for the Congresswoman. Add a note - warmest congratulations, proud of her, hope she’s resting, and then congratulations to the best Abuela those twins could wish for.”
“Got it.” Kara paused, glanced up briefly. “And, just a flag - Barnes hasn’t been in for Oversight this week. He missed Judiciary, too.”
You didn’t look up from your notes. “Is he on leave?”
“Not officially. No out-of-office. No one has seen him since the gala. Staff’s tight-lipped.”
Of course they are.
You flipped a page in your binder with more force than necessary.
“He’ll turn up. He always does.”
But it felt thinner than usual. The line you told yourself.
Kara moved on. “Your lunch with the clean water coalition is still on, but they’re bringing a new rep. He's a former lobbyist, a little slick. You’ll want to keep the high ground.”
“I always do,” you murmured.
Kara swapped your coffee for a fresh cup and put down a plate with a croissant you hadn't seen her holding.
“Let me know if Barnes shows up. Or doesn't.”
“Got it, boss.”
By the end of the following day, you’d signed another two appropriations letters, spoken on the floor, and given an impromptu press gaggle outside Budget. Your shoes hurt. Your voice was hoarse. But the momentum felt good.
Until 4:15.
The committee room was already half-full when you arrived - a rare joint session with Homeland, which meant cameras, crowded aisles, and a lot of posturing. You scanned the table automatically. Kara had left your notes and a bottle of water at your seat. You adjusted your blazer, nodded to the Chair, and paused.
Barnes’s seat was empty. Again.
You didn’t react, not outwardly. Just smoothed your papers and sat down.
The last time he'd missed one of your meetings, he'd sent a personal note of apology. Handwritten and accompanied by a piping hot flat white from the good coffee place down the road, not the on-site Starbucks.
This time, nothing.
The meeting started. You made your points. Asked your questions. But the whole time, your eyes kept drifting back to that empty chair - and the nameplate sitting in front of it.
By the time you got back to your office, your inbox was full, your feet were aching, and Kara was waiting with a folder of flagged correspondence and a packet of Advil.
“Oh,” she said, picking up your TV remote and turning it on, “you’re going to want to see this.”
A live-stream. Midtown New York in total chaos.
Firetrucks. Crowds. Police tape. A helicopter camera panning wide over the city skyline.
Rubble fell, raining down onto civilians.
Then you saw him.
Barnes.
Heaving a slab of concrete up and away from families.
Your inhaled sharply. He was in combat gear, moving with purpose, flanked by others you didn’t recognise - two women, a man with a shield that wasn’t Captain America’s, a guy in a red suit.
“What the hell…” you murmured, dropping into one of the chairs next to the TV.
Kara lowered the volume. “No statement from his office. Nothing from Capitol Security either. But that’s definitely him.”
You swallowed.
So he hadn’t skipped your meeting.
He’d skipped town.
You leaned forward, elbows on your knees, eyes locked to the screen. He looked different - not just the gear. Sharper. Lighter on his feet. Like something had clicked back into place. There was a scratch on his face, he was covered in dust and debris.
Then, on live TV, you watched him disappear.
Not a cutaway. Not a blur.
He vanished before your eyes.
“Get me someone who knows what the fuck is going on,” you said, without looking away.
You didn’t move from the chair for a long time. Kara had left to make calls. You barely noticed.
They’d disappeared. Literally. One second they were there, and then… not.
Not even the feed anchors knew what to say. You’d seen a lot of things in politics. You’d never seen that.
You felt sick, and you weren’t sure why.
He was maddening.
Quiet in chambers, but sharp when he spoke. Thoughtful. Disciplined. Disarming. And somehow, he always knew exactly how to counter your speeches with calm logic that infuriated you.
He didn't grandstand. He didn’t speak much at all. And he didn’t seem to care that he was in way over his head - or worse, he did care, but still kept making the right calls. Winning more favour in Brooklyn every damn time.
You couldn't understand why the cameras loved him.
Actually… that one was obvious.
But you really couldn’t understand why he smirked at you like he was waiting for you to figure something out.
And now you'd never know.
Were they dead? All of them? Were the black marks dashed across the concrete and glass of New York City all that was left?
It felt like hours had passed - you weren’t sure. A handful of colleagues had gathered behind you, murmuring.
“Guess he finally got bored of us,” someone joked.
“Or someone told him what a committee actually is,” another said dryly.
You sighed, not taking your eyes off the screen. “They could be dead, for all we know.”
As the words left your mouth, figures began reappearing on the streets of New York - a child, an elderly couple. All of them terrified and relieved in equal measure.
Then, in exactly the spot they'd vanished, Barnes and his… friends? teammates? stood blinking into the daylight. They looked at each other, the relief evident, their camaraderie clear to see.
In the corner of the screen, behind the chaos, you spotted movement. Valentina de Fontaine, unmistakable, directing camera crews with one hand and smoothing her jacket with the other.
The screen went black, the news anchor filled for time, explaining that an emergency press conference was due to begin at any moment. When the feed came back, the angle had charged. A backdrop had been dragged into place. A podium appeared.
You watched the press conference unfold with mounting disbelief. Valentina was slick as oil, milking the moment like she’d waited years to pull this trigger.
Kara returned, hands full of updates, but froze at your expression.
“Do I need to kill the feed?”
“No,” you said flatly. “I want to hear exactly how deep this bullshit goes.”
And then there he was again, emerging from behind the backdrop.
Bucky Barnes. No suit and tie. No committee assignment. Just that familiar scowl, standing half a step behind Valentina like he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up there.
Like maybe he hadn’t agreed to it.
Not that it mattered. The cameras caught him all the same.
You exhaled.
“Well,” you murmured. “I guess he’s not coming back then.”
Summary: Reader teaches Steve how to use social media and he sees her more provocative pictures.
Authors Note: This was written with the intention of a second part so let me know by the end if that sounds appealing. Enjoy!
WC: 1.2k
Steve might have been over a hundred years old but he did his best to keep up with the times. Over the past two years of being with the Avengers, Steve and you had fallen into routine of you casually keeping him up to date with societal standards and routines. Whether it was explaining to him hookup culture or ubers, he was always attentive during your lessons.
You hadn't recognized it, but the past few months, Steve had been taking extra care to impress you. Listening and being there for you was something he took extra pride in as he wanted you to know that he cared.
Little did he know, you had also grown quite fond off the talks you would share. The way his shoulder would brush yours would send shocks down your spine as you tried to ignore any type of non platonic feelings. You truly believed he could never feel that way about you, so you did your best to maintain the friendship.
It was especially hard to keep this act up though when he was staring at you with those bright blue eyes that peered straight into your thumping heart, as he was doing now.
"Please teach me how to use the online medias. Tony won't stop posting pictures of my butt and posting them on the bird app calling it 'America's Ass'." Steve shuttered as he recounted the memes the team would make of him when he wasn't looking. Tony did have a secret spam that he would use to often make fun of the team in a loving way. Everyone assumed it was Peter's doing until you walked in one day on Tony snickering while posting a photo of Clint having fallen asleep in one of the vents.
Looking back at the tall and brutally handsome man in front of you, you sighed and patted the seat on the couch next to you. Steve gave you that faint worthy smile as he politely sat within arms reach of you. The body heat he gave off made you want to melt but you brushed it off and gestured for his phone.
"Oh right!" He fumbled as he patted his pockets down for the phone under Stark Technologies. Steve was one of the only people who denied all the updates Tony would provide for all the team's tech. You always felt bad as using technology for Steve was hard enough without all the constant updates of flashy nonsense.
"So first I'm going to go to the app store and download some of the more common social media apps like Twitter and Instagram." You gently explained as Steve watched you maneuver throughout his phone. He was always left in awe of how natural it all came to you.
"And I don't have to pay for it?" He questioned as you shook your head.
"Nope! Some apps cost money but most don't. Either way, Tony probably would cover it no problem." You stated as the apps downloaded.
Once they were loaded, you opened Instagram and began to sign Steve up. Since there was already an account for Captain America, run by the team's press, there was no need to create a professional one.
"Now I'm gonna make you an account just for your personal use, not to promote any avengers things. Just for Steve!" He nodded along as you rambled, just in awe of you. Honestly you could say anything and he would probably go along with it.
"You can use this account to post or not post whatever. Some people use it for aesthetic pictures they take, photos of friends and family or just selfies of themselves."
"What do you post?" Steve asked as your rambling was cut short. You should've expected this question but you never thought your crush/friend/coworker would ever see your feed (seeing as Steve is clueless when it comes to the internet).
You blushed and stammered to answer, "Well I post pictures of my friends, food I really liked or photos that I look good in I guess..." You mumble the last part and internally beg he wouldn't request to see it. The reason for this being that you had a couple bikini pictures up that usually weren't a problem or shameful secret, but you just didn't want Steve seeing them.
"Can I follow you?" Steve asks with a soft look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered as you pretended to be chill and shrugged looking back at his phone. You proceeded to look up your account and followed it before quickly exiting before he had a chance to see anything.
Steve smiled at you before continuing the conversation, "Thank you for helping me with all this. I didn't want to ask the others and have them make fun of me." He shyly stated as you looked at the man with wide eyes. You didn't realize how comfortable he felt around you until you realized you were the person he came to for help with all of this.
"Oh Steve, it's no problem at all! Plus you're such a fast learner that it's no big deal." Plus you loved being around him so that made it easy. You weren't gonna tell him that last part though...
After another hour of explaining how social media worked, Steve gave you another genuine smile and excused himself to go finish up a last minute report. The second he left the room you let out an exhausted sigh and sunk back into the couch.
Everytime Steve was around you, you got so in your own head that he basically consumed your mind. Little did you know you had the same effect on Steve. The second he stepped into his office, he let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding. The only real reason he wanted to get on social media was to see all the photos you always seemed to be posting. He saw one of your photos on Natashas phone the other day when she left it out and had never felt so compelled to steal something before.
Within the privacy of his office, Steve finally brought his phone back out and opened Instagram. Going to his following page like you taught him, he opened your account and almost passed out. Right there on your third latest post was a picture of you and Wanda from a hike you had gone on a couple days prior.
Looking at the blissful smile on your face, Steve felt himself falling even harder for you. He continued to scroll through your account until he landed on one of your posts from a couple months ago. You had gone with the girls on a beach trip (funded by Tony) and had a mini photoshoot at the beach. Steve's face flushed bright red as he tried not to look too hard at the photo. He couldn't help but admire the red one piece you were wearing and how it hugged each of your curves in a way that left his mouth watering.
Fumbling to exit out of the photo before he continued to think the lewd thoughts forming in his mind, Steve accidentally hit the like button. Actively trying to not mess up further, Steve threw his phone across the room, hoping it would turn off. Digging his nails into the desk, he took deep breaths as to try and erase the image of you looking so breathtakingly stunning in his mind.
Hesitantly going to pick back up his phone, Steve noticed a new message from you. He quickly opened it up to find a text that made his breath catch, "Come meet me in my room in 10". Holy shit.
Authors Note: Comment if you want a part 2 with smut ;)
WARNINGS: Mentions of night terrors, trapped in small spaces, brief mention of reader being worried about bucky holding her weight, nothing else other than bucky being cute af
SUMMARY: When you get stuck in an elevator with your neighbour (who also happens to be your crush), you discover your interest in the firefighter isn’t as one-sided as you thought.
WORD COUNT: 2736
NEXT CHAPTER
“You’re late, doll.”
The teasing voice of your neighbour catches you off guard when you open your front door; your hand slaps over your heart as you jump from shock.
“Says you” you smirk as you come down from the surprise. You step out of your door fully, turning and pulling it shut behind you.
Bucky chuckles, locking his own door while you do the same. He can’t help but sneak another glance your way - a light blush creeping up your neck under his gaze.
You think you’d be used to him by now, have your little crush under control seeing as you find yourselves leaving for work at the same time regularly. And yet here you are, heart beating faster than you’d like while you fumble with your keys.
Despite being late for work, Bucky waits for you to finish locking up before falling into step beside you as you walk down the hallway to the elevator.
“So let me guess, you slept through your alarm again?” The firefighter raises a brow, amused by your flushed appearance - unsure if that’s his effect on you or the fact your shift started five minutes ago.
“Worse,” you wince, “didn’t even set the damn thing.”
If you didn’t love it so much so much, you’d be inclined to be offended at the snort of a laugh he lets out. “Oh, doll.” Bucky shakes his head with a grin still left on his lips.
“What ‘bout you, Barnes? Spend too much time doing your hair?”
One unamused glare your way and now you’re the one giggling. Walking up to the elevator, you press the button to go down before stepping back to face Bucky.
“I’ll have you know, I woke up looking this good” He winks at you, hoping you’ll accept his non-answer for an answer. But you both know why he woke up late.
He barely even fell asleep, now that his nightmares are back.
His screams travel through the thin walls at night, falling on concerned ears. You pretend as though you don’t hear his night terrors but he sees the slight tug at your brows the next morning, the way you’re desperate to ask if he’s okay. But you never do; you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You offered your help once, and you’re not sure you have the right to ask again.
“Who said you look good?” You tease, hoping to lighten the mood.
The elevator dings and the doors open. “Well the old lady whose cat we saved yesterday said I was the most handsome man in town” He smirks as you both step inside.
“Oh that’s high praise, Barnes” You reply, watching as he presses the ground floor button.
A comfortable silence falls upon the elevator as it roars back to life. Pulling out your phone, you fire a quick text to your boss to apologise for being late before shoving it back into your back pocket.
Bucky turns to you, “What time do you fin-“
A loud clunk sounds from above the lift and it stops moving, dropping a couple inches before coming to a halt again.
“Oh, shit” You all but whisper, almost afraid of speaking too loudly in case it sends you tumbling down.
“Well,” Bucky’s eyes are on the ceiling, “that didn’t sound great”
If you weren’t so nervous, you might slap him for stating the fucking obvious. Your eyes fall to your hand that’s grabbed his, not even realising you’d reached for him when the lift stopped.
Your cheeks burn crimson before you release the death grip you had on his wrist, ignoring the sparks resting beneath your fingertips.
“You okay, doll?” His voice softens when he sees the fear in your eyes.
“Umm..” You stutter, voice as shaky as your hands are.
“Hey, hey,” Bucky’s hands are on your shoulders now, “you’re shaking, Y/n. What’s wrong? What do you need me to do?”
Clenching your eyes shut, you take a deep breath. “Tell me we’re not about to fall to our deaths, please”
Your neighbour lets out a breathy ‘Oh, doll’ and strokes his thumbs over your shoulders. When you open your eyes, his blue ones bear into yours reassuringly, “We’re not gonna fall to our deaths.”
“This hunk of junk hasn’t been serviced in years but i’m pretty sure it’s just jammed or the powers cut out. Either way, we’re gonna be just fine” He continues.
You let out a wavering breath and nod slowly. “Okay. So what now?” You ask.
Bucky drops one of his hands to get his phone (much to your dismay), “I’m gonna call for the crew to come get us”
“Wait,” You frown, “why not press the help button?”
Bringing his phone to his ear, Bucky replies as it starts ringing. “Well, after Mr Garvey lugs his ass outta bed, he’d be calling them anyways. Might as well avoid being stuck here longer than we have to”
Ahh, Mr Garvey; the landlord to the whole building who also happens to be the laziest fucker around.
You mumble and ‘okay’ and roll your bottom lip between your teeth - completely unaware of the admiring eyes on you.
Eventually, a voice sounds from the other side of the phone and Bucky explains the situation, rambling off the information they need to find you. With a quick thank you, the call is over and you’re left with nothing but time to waste.
Your eyes follow the man before you as he approaches the far wall, sliding down it till he’s sat with one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee where he rests his elbow.
“It’s alright, doll. You can sit down, it won’t break anything” He cocks his head to side, eyeing up your hesitant features.
You choose to trust him; after all, he is the one best qualified to know what will and won’t make this obnoxiously small lift crash to the ground.
Letting yourself drop to the floor, you sit with your knees up due to the lack of space to stretch your legs. Bucky is right in front of you, the tight squeeze seemingly not bothering him.
“Great day to be late, huh” You scoff lightly.
“Yeah well, at least we’re together”
A laugh escapes you, drawing a confused expression from your neighbour. “Let’s not pretend as though you need me here. If it weren’t for me you’d probably be climbing outta this thing”
“You overestimate my abilities, sweets. I’m no spider-man” He replies. Those damn pet names make you blush every time.
“You know,” you tilt your head a little to the left, “I can’t think of anyone who still uses ‘doll’ or ‘sweets’ aside from you”
You swear there’s a glint in Bucky’s eye when he replies, “Do you blush when someone calls you ‘baby’ as much as you do when I call you ‘doll’?”
Thinking for a moment, you shyly shake your head in response; he raises his brows at you, as though your answer proves his point. You wonder if he’s old fashioned in other ways. If he’s one to buy his girl flowers or open a car door for them. Maybe he’s just as polite in bed, though you find yourself disappointed at the thought. God, you need to stop thinking of him like that, no matter how hot he would look between your-
“You seeing that fella from last week again?”
Bucky’s question brings you out of your day dreams and you’re surprised by it, unaware he had any interest in your love life.
“Peter?” He nods. “No, I don’t think so. We weren’t really one the same page, if that makes sense”
“How so?”
You shrug slightly, “He’s fresh out of college and looking for a fuck buddy, not a genuine relationship.” You look away from Bucky as you continue. “And even if I wanted that, he’s hardly mature enough to know what he’s doing”
With your gaze settled on your hands, you miss the way Bucky starts biting his lip as he wonders what type of man would fulfil your needs. He shakes his head clear of those thoughts, not wanting to make a fool of himself.
“What about you? Haven’t heard any visitors at yours for a little while” You comment, hoping he doesn’t think you’ve been spying on him.
He lets out a dry laugh, “Lets just say I prefer my nights off with a beer and listening to you play the piano.”
“Oh god, you hear that?” You cover your face with your hands when he nods. “I hope I don’t disturb you. I didn’t think it-“
“It’s fine, doll,” he nudges your thigh with his boot, “I like it”
Your cheeks burn yet again as you drop your hands. “You do?”
“How could I not? You play beautifully. I’ve thought of slipping a request under your door but I didn’t wanna be the creep next door”
You giggle, “You couldn’t be creepy if you tried, Barnes”
“In that case, you should know my cat loves your music too”
With a gasp, you lean closer to Bucky till you’re sat cross legged barely a foot away from him. “James Barnes, the firefighter, has a cat!?”
You revel in his hearty laugh, eyes dancing across his face. From the crinkles at the corners of his eyes to the deep smile lines framing his mouth, you can’t help but be drawn to his beauty.
He sobers up. “Her name’s Alpine.” He says, “She was left at the firehouse a couple of years ago so I took her home with me. She’s probably the only thing that loves your music more than me”
A grin tugs at your lips as you enjoy the thought of your neighbour cuddled up with a little cat.
“If we make it outta here alive, I wanna meet her”
“We’ll be fine, doll. The crew’ll be here any minute now”
You hum and silence consumes the air once more. The soft dim glow of the overhead lights falls gracefully on your features and Bucky can’t pull his eyes away. He knows you’re not too fond of the situation you’re both in and yet he can’t help but thank whatever beings made this happen; to finally have an excuse to talk to you longer than your usual small talk, to tell you how much he’s in awe your piano playing.
He’s not ready to tell you that he’s rather in awe of you, too. Maybe next time you’re stuck in a lift together.
With the silence so heavy on your ears, your mind drifts to the reason you’re here in the first place. The reason he is here.
The nightmares.
You know he hasn’t slept properly in weeks; the dark circles beneath his eyes are just a glimpse of his exhaustion. And as much as you’re scared of pushing him away, the weight on your chest is growing too heavy to bear.
“I know you’re having nightmares again.”
Bucky stills.
“Those screams, James, I-“
“It’s nothing” He cuts you off with stern words. Your brows pull together, eyes laced with worry.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. I thought they got better.“
His head falls back against the wall behind him, “Well you thought wrong.”
You curse yourself beneath your breath as you run your hands through your hair, searching for the right thing to say.
“I’m worried about you, James.” You breathe, eyes fluttering shut. You’re scared that if you look at him, you’ll cave in and promise to never ask about it again. “I get that i’m just your neighbour but I can’t keep acting like I can’t see there’s something wrong.“
“There is nothing wrong!” Bucky’s tone is sharp, not quite shouting but no longer calm.
Your eyes snap open, training on the clench of his jaw, the sole hint of any emotion on his face.
“I’m dealing with it. So you need to stop acting like you know me because you don’t.”
And there it goes. The worry in your chest morphs into regret. Regret for bringing it up, regret for thinking you could help, regret for hearing his screams in the first place.
“Okay”
Bucky hates how timid your voice is, barely loud enough over the ringing of his own heartbeat. That and the voice in his head telling him he’s a piece of shit. He wishes he could take it all back but he doesn’t know how to, so he decides that silence is better than opening his damn mouth and making things worse.
The pair of you sit there in silence, one that’s far less comfortable than before, and stare at the ceiling, waiting for help to arrive.
When it does, you count your lucky stars that the lift stopped just at the doors to the second floor. Bucky helps the crew pull the doors open enough for you both to climb through. You feel his blue eyes on you as you wait for them to stabilise the lift, avoiding his gaze at all costs.
“Okay, Ma’am,” One of the firefighters calls, the name ‘Rogers’ written on his jacket, “we need you guys to climb up here and we’ll pull you out.”
Your eyes widen at the thought of pulling yourself up there, suddenly very aware of your frankly appalling upper body strength.
Rogers catches the hesitation on your face. “Don’t worry, Buck will help you up so you can get out first”
Turning to look at your neighbour, you lock eyes for the first time in ten minutes. His lips are turned into an awkward half smile, changing his entire demeanour from one of a brooding firefighter to a sheepish kid.
You don’t know how long the pair of you stand there staring at each other, but it’s long enough for Roger’s to clear his throat in attempt to regain your attention.
Bucky steps closer to you while the crew get ready above you. “You okay with this, doll?”
You nod, “As long as this thing doesn’t fall while i’m half way through and snap my body in half, i’m good”
That heartwarming laugh fills your ears and the firefighter shakes his head in amusement. At least he doesn’t hate you enough to leave you to get out on your own.
“Well lucky for you, that ain’t gonna happen”
You roll your bottom lip between your teeth. “Okay, how is this gonna work?”
Bucky moves to stand below the gap, facing you. He lowers himself down to one knee before reaching for your hand.
His skin is warm but rough, gentle but strong as he pulls you closer to him. The unexpected tug on your hand sends you tumbling toward him, your right hand bracing yourself on his shoulder to regain your balance while his free hand lands on your hip.
You mumble an apology, flustered at the intense heat beneath his hands and the way Bucky is looking up at you.
“You good?” He asks, voice dripping with awe, though you’re oblivious to the admiration, still plagued by the way he shut you down earlier.
When you nod, Bucky removes his hand from your hip and taps his knee. “You’re gonna step on my knee, then on my shoulder and you then should be close enough for Steve to grab you and pull you out”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you” You admit, nervous at the thought of letting Bucky take your body weight on his shoulders.
He looks up at you through his lashes “Do you trust me, sweets?”
“Yes” You reply, not even having to think about it. There may be some walls between you, but you know he’s on the other side, waiting.
“Good, then get up here”
Bucky shouts up to the crew that he’s giving you a boost now and after hearing them shout back that they’re ready, you place your foot on Bucky’s knee and push yourself up.
“Don’t drop me” You warn, reaching up to the gap in preparation.
“Wouldn’t dream of it”
And with that, you climb onto your neighbours shoulders and stretch up for Steve to grab your hands.
Along with Bucky pushing your feet up, Steve pulls you out and you slide through the gap until you’re free of that god forsaken elevator.
“Well thank fuck for that” You groan, spread across the floor on your back, making the crew laugh.
You barely have time to recover before Bucky is stood above you, having lugged himself out with ease.
“Guess you won’t be forgetting to set your alarm again, ay?”
NEXT CHAPTER
a/n: first chapterrrrrr! hope you enjoyed, if you have any questions dm me or drop an ask <3
new chapter will be out soon, thanks to everyone to voted on the poll i put out, i hope it’s as good as you wished it would be :)
comment if you’d like to be added to my ashes to embers taglist 🧡
i was wondering if you can mack a masterlist for bucky x female neighbor?
Neighbor!Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
EVERYBODY should have a bucky barnes as their neighbor
ONESHOT
Next door neighbor by @buckylattes
Your next door neighbor, Bucky, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?
cookies, kisses and such by @stevebabey
All This Time by @jobean12-blog
When you finally meet your new neighbor you can tell you’re going to have a difficult time staying away from him, even though you should.
Bribe the Super by @real-jane
You have a very hot neighbor. He happens to think the same of you.
What Are Friends For? by @gogolucky13
When you threaten to swear off men for good after your last bad date, your neighbor and friend offers to help change your mind.
Day After Tomorrow by @buckyarchives
enhanced hearing is both a blessing and a curse. eavesdropping, loud music, footsteps and when your sweet neighbor has been coughing her pretty head off all day.
do i even have a chance? by @noceurous
you’ve found him and he was sure he didn’t have a chance
just a dream by @itsmeatballworld
Bucky and reader are neighbors in Brooklyn. When reader has a spicy dream about the broody man, it sets off a series of events that ignites something in both of them.
mutual by @buckycuddlebuddy
the windows you were sharing were belong to your bedrooms, and ─okay, it was wrong, bucky knew this but he was only human ─ you sometimes left your curtains open.
valentine by @softlyspector
You're Bucky's neighbor, Bucky is your secret admirer. Valentine's day and a potential date forces him to act.
Foolish Heart by @jadedvibes
You thought Bucky would never want to settle down, but it turns out you were very wrong.
A Very Special Recipe by @straywords
You’re feeling adventurous in the kitchen and your sinfully attractive neighbor has just the ingredient you need for that unique experiment.
Secret Admirer by @bxcketbarnes
Sneaky by @imagine-docx
Being neighbours with a cute boy has some perks. Also, Sam is being the best wingman (no pun intended) he possibly could.
see through by @buckys-black-dress
where bucky's your inconsiderate neighbor, but he's a frequent flyer at the coffee shop where you work, and you're determined to get on his good side.
Gentle Giant by @touchstarvedirl
You and your neighbor Bucky have will we, won’t we thing going on and you devise a plan to get him to tell you how he feels. It doesn’t go according to plan, or does it?
Neighborly by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
living in the apartment down the hall from Bucky Barnes is definitely not what you expected-and you definitely didn’t expect him to show up bleeding at your door.
blame it in the neighbors by @nev3rfound
having recently moved in next door, you and bucky become fast friends. however, there’s something looming between the two of you and it comes to light when it’s revealed you’re in the hospital.
Can’t Hurt Me by @sweetbbarnes
You're the one that takes care of Bucky after missions, only this time he asks for a different kind of relief.
SERIES
new neighbor by @alisonsfics
being bucky's next door neighbor and slowly getting to know each other and falling in love?
Paper Walls by @writingcroissant
 Your apartment happens to be right next to Bucky's, heads only separated by a paper-thin wall, leading to you witnessing every second of his nightmares. Although, bonding over your late night conversations, you seem to forget that you never even saw him before.
Time after Time by @justsomebucky
When the reader’s parents divorce, her mother moves her to a new town, right next door to Bucky Barnes. This is their love story.
Hey Neighbor by @moonbeambucky
You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right... that is, until your new neighbor moved in.
Teardrops on Lashes by @delicatelyherdreams
After the Chitauri invaded New York and nearly ended your life, you moved to Bucharest to get away from the superhero stuff. You simply wanted an uneventful, ordinary life. But when a stranger moves into the apartment next to yours, you begin to question those aspirations and choose to risk it all for love.
A Friendly Wager by @justsomebucky
Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?
Come Over by @moonstruckbucky
You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.
Keeping Me Up by @writing-for-marvel
When Bucky moves in next door, you seem to get much less sleep than when your previous neighbour lived in apartment 4a.
𑣲 how to impress a 21st century girl I @brunchable
Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.
𑣲 i don’t want you like a best friend pt2 I @/brunchable
Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt.
𑣲 the best worst day ever I @jobean12-blog
You're having a shit day but then you see a dog and things start looking up...
𑣲 game night I @mugglebornmarvelite
Steve’s mandatory game night takes a turn when you and Bucky are paired up.
𑣲 bleeding heart I @mournthebird
You're his assigned nurse.
𑣲 domestic ws / soldat hcs I @/mournthebird
𑣲 cold metal I @/mournthebird
Soldat's arm gets cold. You are the solution.
𑣲 shower suds I @/mournthebird
You give Soldat his first bath out of captivity.
𑣲 silver and garnet I @/mournthebird
Soldat hurts himself a lot.
𑣲 condition I @/mournthebird
Soldat refuses to sit down, you notice he's in pain.
𑣲 gentle hand I @/mournthebird
Soldat has a panic attack.
𑣲 stained I @/mournthebird
Soldat continues to have nightmares.
𑣲 apricot toast I @/mournthebird
Soldat doesn't understand care can be without price.
𑣲 knots I @/mournthebird
You help the soldier with some self care.
𑣲 honey girl I @violentdelightsandviolentends
The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
𑣲 bucky can’t stand you I @buckyalpine
𑣲 mob!bucky I @/buckyalpine
𑣲 easy I @jaggedamethyst
life with bucky is amazing…but it’s easy to feel like you’re not enough when your relationship is a secret.
𑣲 sugar and skin pt2 pt3 pt4 I @tteotlma
Bucky’s never been sure if normalcy is something he’s cut out for. But when he meets you—a baker with a pretty smile—he starts to think maybe he could try.
𑣲 toy soldier pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 I @vunblr
She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.
𑣲 to mend a soldier I @/vunblr
Pressed by a worried Sam, Bucky reluctantly agrees to try an alternative -and, if you ask him, weird- therapy program: rent-a-mom. What starts as an obligation soon turns into something far more meaningful than he ever expected.
𑣲 what if…? I @/vunblr
Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.
𑣲 roots and branches pt2 pt3 pt4 I @/vunblr
Bucky has built a quiet life in the woods, content to keep the world at arm's length. But when a new neighbor moves to town, her presence ignites emotions he’s hesitant to face.
𑣲 foundations pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 I @/vunblr
Bucky is doing his best to build a stable life for his newfound son, rescued from the guts of a Hydra facility. As he struggles with unexpected fatherhood and his own circumstances, he meets someone who slowly becomes part of their lives, establishing a connection he never saw coming.
𑣲 plump and ripe I @/vunblr
On a routine visit to the fruit shop, Bucky ends up with more than his usual goodies.
𑣲 built to last I @/vunblr
Bucky took up carpentry to keep himself busy, but didn't expect a hardware clerk to make him want more.
𑣲 touched starved I @mrsbuckybarnes1917
You accidentally walk in on Bucky touching himself when he thinks he is alone. Turns out he is thinking about you.
𑣲 a quiet escape I @thebarneschronicles
During a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it.
𑣲 deny me I @drewbarymore
In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you.
𑣲 dreamscape I @wkemeup
When Bucky falls under the spell of a Djinn, the line between fantasy and reality blurs. In order to survive, he must fight his way back to the real world - even if it costs him everything he's ever wanted.
𑣲 someone’s calling my name (and it sounds like you) I @mellowsaturns
after a mission gone wrong, bucky finds himself on the brink of unconsciousness and then you show up which causes him to reveal his true feelings
𑣲 mine I @cherrypickertheory
A new recruit joins the team, and gets a little too close to you for Bucky’s liking.
𑣲 dial tone I @atlaese
𑣲 lessons in lovemaking pt2 I @artficlly
You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.
𑣲 bitter I @/artficlly
Bucky doesn't do relationships, but maybe you'll be the one to change him
𑣲 his girls I @/artficlly
alpine barely tolerates anyone but bucky, so when she curls up in your lap without a second thought, the team is left reeling—especially when it leads to the not-so-subtle revelation that you and bucky have been sneaking around for months.
𑣲 loverboy I @thevillainswhore
Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you.
𑣲 revenge sweeter than honey I @/thevillainswhore
When Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious?
𑣲 do i even have a chance? I @noceurous
you’ve found him and he was sure he didn’t have a chance
𑣲 b.b. boy I @bucky-bucket-barnes
Bucky and you have been friends ever since he arrived that rainy at the Compound. Silently pining, you’d hope he would pick on the numerous hints you dropped. It’s not until a small miscommunication happens that he confronts his feelings for you.
𑣲 hooked on you I @elysium-library
𑣲 which avenger are you destined to date I @marvelettesassemblenow
When Natasha found out about the Quiz which showed which Avenger you should date, the Avengers decided they all should take the test and go on these dates.
𑣲 your touch I @/marvelettesassemblenow
Bucky hadn’t been long at the compound when he noticed that others sought you out to calm down. So slowly he started too and had to figure out his feelings for you
𑣲 the catalyst I @aquaticmercy
In this universe, you and Bucky are happy. In other universes, it might not be that simple.
𑣲 jackass I @/aquaticmercy
Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realise there's a reason why.
𑣲 have we met before? I @/aquaticmercy
America Chavez says that you and Bucky are together in every universe.
𑣲 laryngitis I @skaye44
You're super talkative and your fellow agents tease you, but you don't care. You always chat up the quiet hunky super soldier who always manages to spend some time around you. One day when you can't talk due to an illness, Bucky gets concerned and seeks you out to make sure you're ok. He ends up talking to you for once.
𑣲 arm pat I @/skaye44
You go on a date with Bucky and hit it off, or so you think, but it ends weirdly. Nat steps in and gets other agents involved to send you flowers and gifts to get Bucky's attention and make him jealous for screwing up.
𑣲 stuck in the middle I @helaintoloki
you come home from work to find the last person on earth you want to see cooking dinner in your kitchen
𑣲 somethin’ stupid I @/helaintoloki
a drunken confession spoils a perfectly good evening
𑣲 everybody loves somebody I @/helaintoloki
Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.
𑣲 back to you I @/helaintoloki
Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home
𑣲 a favor I @/helaintoloki
you pretend to be Bucky’s girlfriend in order to help his campaign despite your very real feelings for him
𑣲 misunderstanding I @/helaintoloki
you accept Bucky’s invitation to attend Tony’s charity gala as his date, but your night quickly turns sour when you find out about his bet with Natasha
𑣲 40s!bucky I @/helaintoloki
after accidentally sending yourself back in time, you run into a younger version of the man you loathe only to find yourself questioning your feelings for him
𑣲 it’s been calling me I @godmadeaterribleerror
You've had these… dreams. Strange, realistic, detailed dreams of the same man, almost your whole life. But they're just dreams. You've been so sure, for so long, that they're just dreams. So sure, until you're not.
𑣲 the time thor third wheeled I @mercurial-chuckles
𑣲 option two I @nev3rfound
after nightmares continue to haunt his nights, bucky knows there’s one person left who could potentially provide some form of comfort, but is she still willing to see him after all this time?
𑣲 shut up I @fandoms-writings
𑣲 his only contact I @cjsinkythoughts
𑣲 the soldier and his mission I @magical-reid
When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.
𑣲 from one perfect moment pt2 I @yikesdrama
bucky’s birthday is coming up soon and you just want to do something special for him, maybe even take a time travelling trip to see his maa….
𑣲 the third wheel I @writing-for-marvel
When Bucky finally asks you out on a date, the last thing you expect is for his high school crush Connie to also have been invited.
𑣲 in too deep I @marvelstoriesepic
After Bucky calls, and you come running, you end up locked in his bathroom, trying to get rid of the evidence that something hasn’t gone well this time.
𑣲 drabble I @eufezco
𑣲 drabble I @bcksbarnes
𑣲 echos I @brokenbarnes
Bucky's worst nightmare comes true. You come back to him after taking a turn in Hydra's electric chair.
