They split up to look for her, and he didn’t want to wake anyone up since it was late, but he was worried since Alpine had gone past his neighborhood. She was his little buddy, his kindred spirit. He wanted her to be okay. He didn’t want her to get lost or hurt.

“Alpine?” he asked, rounding a corner and looking around. His shoulders dropped when he didn’t spot her. “C’mon, Al.”

He went down another block when he heard an unfamiliar voice in the distance, his body going stiff. “Oh, my GOD. You are seriously the cutest cat EVER.” Was this stranger talking about his cat? “Your fur is as white as snow and so soft. OOH. Is your name Snowball?”

“Snowball?” he muttered, jogging in the direction of your sweet voice. Wait, why did he think your voice was sweet?

“You’re a little purr machine! I just want to take you home and cuddle with you and keep you FOREVER.”

“Oh, no, you fucking don’t,” Bucky snarled, rounding another corner. He didn’t care how sweet you sounded. You were talking about possibly stealing his cat, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

He sighed in relief when he saw Alpine before his brows furrowed. She was curled up in your lap as you sat in the middle of the sidewalk. He had to blink to be sure his eyes were working correctly. Alpine never took to strangers like that. She liked Steve and Sam, but it still took her time to warm up to them.

Shooting them a text to let them know he found Alpine, he wondered who you were and why she was snuggling with you. 

“Al.” He whistled as he jogged the rest of the way over. Instead of jumping out of your lap like he expected, she curled into you more and purred. Maybe you had some sort of special power that made his cat relax. 

You tilted your head up and Bucky forgot how to breathe for a second. Even under the harsh light of the sidewalk lamp you were beautiful. Fuck, maybe you had some sort of special power over him, too. “Hi!” you said a little too loudly, like you didn’t have a clue how late or quiet it was. Inhaling, he could smell the alcohol on your breath from where he stood. Jesus, were you drunk? “Hooooooooe, my God. You are the hottest man I have ever seen in my life. Just… ” You waved a hand at him. “Holy fucking shit.”

He was thankful that it was either too dark for you to see or you were too drunk to notice the pink in his cheeks. Not to mention, he was in jeans and a black t-shirt. He hardly looked hot. “You’re drunk, but thanks for the compliment,” he stated, reaching out for Alpine who stubbornly stayed put. Seriously, what was her deal? She didn’t know you. He didn’t know you.

“Annnnd I’ll be sober when I wake up tomorrow, but you’ll still be really hot. That’s totally not fair.” You giggled after a moment and held Alpine up to look at him. “Isn’t he hot? Like a model or a god or something made up in a lab.” You tilted your head. “Or my dreams.”

Bucky frowned, as if he didn’t talk to his cat on a regular basis. He was trying to ignore that you were clearly physically attracted to him. That wasn’t the usual reaction people had when he came around. Not in today’s age at least. His glare didn’t even phase you since you continued to smile at him. “Al’s a cat. She can’t-”

“Meow.”

Your lower lip trembled and he feared you’d burst into tears. He had no clue what to do if you cried. “I’m soooo sorry. I didn’t know she was your cat. I swear.” His eyes widened when you tried to get to your feet, his hands going to your hips to help steady you. He was reluctant to let you go, and he felt like an ass because he probably scared you. “She just came right up to me and I only wanted to pet her for a minute.”

Your smile turned into something triumphant. “See, she agrees with me,” you said, rubbing your cheek against Alpine’s before you gasped. “Wait, you called her by a name. Do you know her?”

Bucky let out a breath, wanting to get back home and get some sleep. He had had a long day. “Yeah, she’s my cat and she got out a bit ago. Could you please give her back so I can go home?”

Bucky kept a hand on your hip when Alpine finally moved into his other arm. He felt better, but wouldn’t relax completely until he was at home. “It’s okay. I’m glad she did,” he said honestly. Because Alpine went to you, it made it much easier to find her. “Wait a second.”

“What?” you asked, making him lose his breath again when you looked him in the eyes.

He had to blink a few times and snap himself out of his stupor. What was wrong with him? “Why the hell are you out here by yourself?” he asked, trying to keep his anger in check when he took in your outfit. He was so concerned about Alpine that he didn’t clock right away that you were in a semi-revealing black dress. It was gorgeous, and that kind of look could attract all sorts of attention. Even if you weren’t drunk and all alone, the thought of someone taking advantage of you made his blood boil.

You nodded to the building beside you. “My place is RIGHT there, but it’s soooo sweet that you care about my wellbeing.” 

“Which apartment?” he asked. 

“Okay, you may be really hot and I may be drunk, but I don’t know you, so I’m not telling you my apartment number.” You wrinkled your nose. “That’s how true crimes start.”

He snorted before he could stop himself. At least you were smart enough not to tell him. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re alone out here.”

“My friends and I were celebrating a birthday at the bar a few blocks away and the birthday girl wanted to play drinking games and my luck was terrible tonight since I kept losing, or I guess winning if you count drinking as winning?” you explained, shaking your head. “Anyway, my sober friend dropped me off, but your cat walked over before I could go inside,” you continued, smiling and scratching behind her ears. At least you hadn’t walked home alone. “And it would’ve been rude of me to ignore little Snowball.”

“Her name’s Alpine,” he corrected you, but there was warmth in his tone instead of annoyance.

“My apologies, Queen Alpine.” You booped Bucky on the nose. “And what is your name?”

Bucky blinked and blinked again. He couldn’t believe you just booped him. If Steve and Sam had seen that… “It’s Bucky.”

You didn’t react to his name, simply giving him your name, too. “Do people call you ‘Buck’?” you giggled. “Because Buck rhymes with-”

“I think you should get inside,” he cut you off. “And make sure you drink some water and have some aspirin waiting beside you when you wake up.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww. You really do care about my wellbeing,” You leaned into him, stars in your eyes. “You’re a good man. I can tell.”

Bucky cleared his throat. Why would you think he was a good man? “Well, if Al likes you, you can’t be all bad.”

“I can be bad if you want me to,” you whispered exaggeratedly and winked. “Sorry, I have no filter when I drink.”

“Yeah, I sensed that,” he deadpanned. It was kind of refreshing. “Do you always flirt with strange men like this?” he asked, feeling a surge of jealousy for no reason.

“Just you, stranger,” you answered. He believed you only because you seemed too sweet to lie. “Thanks for being nice and letting me snuggle with your cat.”

You had to be drunk to say he was nice. “I’m a grump.”

You booped his nose again. “Whatever you say, Mr. Grump,” you said, giving Alpine one last pet. “See you later, Alpine.”

The meow Alpine let out sounded so sad it almost broke Bucky’s heart. “It’s late, Al. She needs rest, and so do we.”

“Night night!” you called back, somehow managing to walk in a straight line up the building door. “Sweet dreams!”

“What if Al wants to see you again?” he asked. 

You paused and smiled over your shoulder. “If you want to see me again, I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

As tempting as it was to ask for your number or give him yours, you were drunk. You’d probably forget all about him in the morning. Besides, you might have a boyfriend. So he held Alpine closer and watched you go inside, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“You gave me a real scare, Al,” he said, walking away as Alpine looked back at the building. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll see her again.”

For Alpine’s sake, he hoped they’d see you again.

And for his own sake, he hoped you were single.

Had to be done, lovelies! When and where will he see you again? See what happens next with Late Night Recap. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Making your way up the driveway, you straighten up your shoulders, not an ounce of anxiety dwelling within. If there’s one thing you can’t stand, it’s a bully. And you were more than happy to confront them if it meant your son could start enjoying college life like he deserves. 

The front door swings open before you have the chance to knock, the stench of marijuana and stale beer wafting up your wrinkled nose. “Steve, you order a hooker or something?”

You recognise the male in front of you from the video you’d seen on social media earlier that day. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. If you didn’t know any better – and he didn’t have such a vile manner about him already – you’d think he was a nice guy. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and that baby faced smile. But you know he’s anything but.

"I'm Josh's mother." You don't wait for him to invite you in, pushing past him and walking into the house. It's messy but nothing compared to what you expected, empty solo cups strewn around on the sideboard and discarded sneakers littering the hallway floor. "I came here to discuss your treatment of him. It's unacceptable and it stops now." 

A blonde man appears in the kitchen doorway, amused stare looking you over and his chest puffed out, silently attempting to assert his arrogance. "You're hotter than your photo." Your brow furrows slightly, confused. "Nineteen years old and still got his mama as his screensaver. It'd be cute if it wasn't so fucking sad." 

You despise the way your thighs clench at the sight of his bicep flexing when he lifts a beer bottle to his mouth, a thick vein protruding against the surface of his skin. He reminds you of your college boyfriend, Ransom. Pushing the memory of that asshole from your mind, you collect yourself, focusing on the one in front of you, one hand resting on your hip and your car keys dangling in the other. 

"What you're doing is cruel. He's very upset." 

"Has Joshy been crying to his mother? He's more of a sap than I thought." You scowl when Bucky passes you, lighting the joint in his hand and taking a long drag. The scent takes you back to your own college days. He exhales. "You know how this shit works, babe? It's not s'posed to be a breeze. Fuckers gotta prove himself before we can accept him. It's nothing personal."

"I'm not your babe," you scowl, folding your arms across your chest. "Nothing personal? You made him send his girlfriend pictures of another girl's breasts. Surely even a prick like you can see that's crossing a line. She was distraught."

"Actually, that was my idea. Fuckin' love that shit," Steve gloats, reaching beneath the waistband of his shorts and readjusting himself. Your eyes linger on his crotch longer than you intended and his lips curl up when you force your gaze away. "She'll get over it. She is over it. Trust me." 

You don't want to know what that means, choosing not to press this particular subject further.

“You washed his mouth out with soap because he forgot to refer to you as 'Master'. You think that’s an acceptable way to treat a human being, James?” you ask, disgusted by the way he smirks against the rim of his beer bottle. Disgusted by the way your tongue darts out to catch the imaginary droplet of beer as one happens to spill from the corner of his own mouth. “Oh, that’s funny, huh? I’ve had it. I won’t let you get away with it. I’m reporting you to the Dean.” 

Steve barks out a laugh and it only irritates you more. “Something amusing?”

“He’s my uncle, but good luck with that.” 

"Oh, great. A nepo baby." 

It all makes sense now. How else would they get away with this excessive humiliation?

"A bit rich coming from you, Mrs Stark."

You have nothing to say to that. You suppose, in a way, he's right. The cogs in your brain begin to turn, and you can't help but think that Josh's parentage might have something to do with their excessively harsh treatment. It wasn't exactly a secret amongst the staff that Tony had gifted a hefty grant to the college Dean in order to secure your son's place here. 

"I'll tell you what, Mama. I'll go easy on your boy. I'm not an unreasonable guy." You can't stop the scoff that comes from your mouth, arms folded across your chest as you eye the blonde popping the cap off a beer bottle and letting it fall to the floor at his feet. "What? I will. I'll go easy on him. But considering it could be classed as preferential treatment, don't you think you oughta do a little something for us in return?"

The sly grin that spreads across his face unsettles you, and you find yourself shuffling from left to right as you contemplate what it is that they could possibly want from you. You can tell the pair were born with silver spoons in their mouths. That much has been evident since the moment you stepped into the frat house. It wasn't as if they needed money, but you couldn't think of anything else they'd be seeking from you. 

"I'm not paying you to quit harassing my son," you tell the brunette, stepping back as he takes a short stride forward. The backs of your knees brush against the couch behind you, and you begin to feel trapped in his presence. Bucky simply laughs, looking over at a smirking Steve. Like they're in on some private joke that you're not yet privy to. "Just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. My husband didn't work his fingers to the damn bone every day for the last 19 years for our son to drop out of college because of two losers on a power trip."

Your face is stern, your words dripping in faux bravery, and your brow crumpled in frustration; but what you're feeling inside is anything but courageous. Not when Bucky takes another step forward, lifting the joint between his fingers to his lips and toking it.

You turn your nose up at the stench that fills your nostrils, pursing your lips to express your disgust. If your sorority sisters were here, they'd poke fun at you over your prudeness. You weren't exactly a stranger to their ways, but these two didn't need to know that. 

"I don't think it's clicked in that pretty little head just yet, Buck." Your head snaps to the left of you, your eyes glaring a hole through Steve as he walks a little closer, taking a swig of his beer and shooting you a wink.

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are replaced by the dry tang of smoke billowing against your lips. Fanning the fumes from your face, anger bubbling away in your veins and an unwanted heat stoking between your thighs, you point a finger firmly against Bucky's chest. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face and quit wasting my time. What do you want?"

He's quiet for a moment, stretching his arm out by his side to pass the joint to Steve who takes it happily. Your mouth curls in disdain when his fingers find their way to the buttons of your blouse, and you're hit with the very obvious request he's about to make of you. You don't even give him the chance to say it before you're shaking your head.

"No," you tell him firmly; looking back and forth between the two young men. 

"No?" he chuckles, toying with your collar before pulling his hand away completely. You breathe a small sigh of relief, staring him down. “You don't even know what I'm gonna say yet.”

Those eyes could make the most devout of nuns drop their panties. 

Stop it.

You part your lips to speak, but Steve is quick to cut you off before you even begin. "Look, you can walk out of here with your self respect intact and your boy will get it the hardest out of all those desperate morons."

He pauses to down the remainder of his drink, and you try to look anywhere else but at the pair of bright, cerulean eyes staring you down. 

"Or," he continues, setting the empty bottle on the large, oak coffee table in front of him, "you can get down on your knees and show us exactly how desperate you are for us to leave him alone." 

Your heart beats frantically in your chest, sidestepping the brunette and putting some space between the two of you. You feel like your airway is closing up, your cheeks hot from the obscene proposal. 

"You can leave. You know where the door is," Bucky says, motioning to the hallway behind you, "or you can stay. You never know. You might enjoy yourself more than you think. How long's it been since that pussy got a good pounding?" 

“Last night, actually.” You’re lying, of course. It’s been months. 

“I’ve seen your husband, baby. The only thing he’s pounding is the Wendy’s drive-thru.” Bucky catches your wrist just before your palm can meet his cheek, his grip firm and a sick grin forming on his face. “Maybe next time he can use the grease to lube up his cock. Fuck knows you must be drier than the Nevada desert with that on top of you every night.” 

He’s disgusting, his darkened chuckle vibrating through your whole body like molasses, anger simmering and prickling at your skin. 

“So, what’s it gonna be? Run to the Dean and see how fast Rogers can get your kid kicked out altogether or get down on your knees and do something useful with that mouth?” 

This was Josh’s dream college. This was the one he’d dreamt of attending since 8th grade. The same one you and your husband attended all those years ago. You had to ask yourself, was your pride worth his heartbreak? If you did this for him, his life would undoubtedly improve, right? 

“If you tell him—” 

“Our lips are sealed. Right, Rogers?” He smirks. “But yours won't be.”

You wince at the feel of Steve’s rough hand squeezing your ass, your body trapped between the two of them and the scent of them swimming all around you. His smiling lips brush your ear and you don’t even bother to suppress the shudder. “Get on your knees. We don’t have all day.” 

"Not so mouthy now, are you?" Bucky grins, taking a sip of his beer and watching as you glare up at him; lips stretching around his girth, pussy shamefully clenching at the feel of Steve's palm dragging up the inside of your thigh. "Well actually, I guess you are, huh?"

You pull Bucky's cock free of your mouth, spit dripping from your lower lip and down your chin. The hand that curls around the back of your throat startles you, Steve's body leaning over you and his lips inches from your ear.

"Don't want your boy to know what a slut you are, do you?" Steve taunts, the outline of his erection pressing up against the curve of your ass through his basketball shorts. "Do your part and it'll be our little secret."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't changing your tune real fast, your cunt hungry for attention and your lips gravitating back towards the fat cock in front of you. You can't help but hum at the salty taste on your tongue when you lap at the head, lips working their way down his shaft inch by inch. 

"Bet she's fuckin' drenched just from having her mouth stuffed," Bucky teases, looking right past you and nodding with silent instruction to Steve. "Go ahead, bet you bucks I'm right."

A moan vibrates through him when you feel two thick fingers glide through your drenched folds, a sardonic laugh ringing in your ears as they probe at your entrance teasingly. Your eyes catch sight of the $50 bill being tossed forward over your shoulder, landing on Bucky's thigh before he snatches it up with his fingers. 

"I'm never wrong about this kinda shit. I can tell when they want it." He has the sheer audacity to wave the money in front of your face, a smug look on his undoubtedly handsome features. "Hey, do a great job and you might leave with a tip."

You hate the way your thighs clench together, and the distinct sound of your slick squelching between your pussy lips makes you cringe. You hate that you walked in here ready to tear them a new asshole, and now here you are, willing to give anything for them to tear up yours.

You don't know where the urge to please them is coming from, but with each soft grunt that falls from his mouth, every little whisper of praise from Steve's lips - it makes you want more. So much more. 

"Yeah, you love it don't you? Being down on your knees like a worthless little whore?" Steve goads, thumb swiping back and forth over your clit. You find yourself nodding, bobbing your head further down onto Bucky's cock, because it's true. Years of boring, vanilla sex was finally catching up with you. "Still think you can do better. Not makin' anywhere near as much mess we like. C'mere." 

Steve yanks your head backwards away from Bucky's lap, your neck craning to its limit as he holds your mouth open with his fingers; a thick glob of saliva dripping from his mouth onto your waiting tongue. It's disgusting, the way your lips wrap themselves around his fingers when he pushes them between your lips, pressing down against your tongue and making you gag at the foreign intrusion. 

"That's better," Steve hums, withdrawing his fingers and leaning down to leave the sloppiest of kisses against your parted lips. "Say Buck, remember Tiffany from last week? The cheerleader? You think our new toy can throat it as deep as she did?"

"I don't know, Steve. That was one hell of a blow job. I'm not sure she's got it in her," Bucky laughs, and the determination that rises inside you has you leaning back in, taking him further than you have yet, the tip of him prodding against your uvula. "Would you look at that? Someone's feeling competitive." 

You could care less about the noises you're making as you take him deeper, forcing yourself down until your nose is nestled in the coarse hair at the base of him. One hand reaches for the soft sac between his thighs, the other stretching behind you for, well, you don't really know. 

All you know is that you want Steve's fingers back on your cunt. 

You drag your swollen, smeared lips down the underside of Bucky's shaft, your tongue seeking out his balls, sucking them into your mouth one after the other. You can tell by the blissed out look on his face that he's in heaven. Tiffany, who? 

The sensation of Steve's fingers easing slowly inside your cunt has you gasping, your cheek resting against Bucky's bare thigh as you adjust to the stretch. You can't remember the last time Tony initiated any kind of foreplay, and the way his fingertips curl up against that long forgotten soft spot inside you has you sighing with lusty relief.

"Hey," Bucky nudges, the heavy thud of his cock stinging your spit-slick cheek, "you better not be slackin' off now you've got a cunt full. Keep goin'."

"Yes Sir," you smirk, wrapping your fist around his throbbing appendage and squeezing it in your palm. Your confidence is rising with each passing moment, now that you know exactly what having you down here on your knees does to him. To both of them. 

"You hear that, Rogers? Yes, Sir. I like that," he groans, your tongue bravely dipping lower, the tip of it tickling his perineum as his thighs spread wider as if by instinct. "Oh yeah, I like that. I knew she was a nasty bitch. Can't fool me with the fancy clothes and expensive jewelry."

Your back arches, Steve's hand splayed out against it as his fingers work delightfully in and out of your trembling walls. Bucky repositions himself, feet resting on the cusp of the couch and his hips shuffling a little closer to the edge. You know what he's asking for, and you're not about to refuse him. Not when he looks down at you like you hung all the stars in the fucking sky. 

"You gonna do it, baby? You gonna eat his ass? Fuck it, why should he have all the fun?" You whine pathetically, cunt empty as Steve moves from behind you, taking a seat on the sofa next to Bucky and sagging back against the cushions. "Least you can do is jerk me off while you work that nasty little mouth." 

You don't even hesitate to reach beneath the waistband of his sweats, your fingers barely touching as you tug him free. He's not packing as much length as the man in front of you, but his girth is mouth watering. 

Your tongue wiggles its way down, flattening against the tight, pink ring of muscle between Bucky's cheeks, and the groan that leaves his throat is nothing short of sinful. You don't hold back, burying your face against him as Steve takes hold of your palm, spitting in it and leading it back towards his cock. 

"Fuck, look at her.” Bucky groans, unashamedly letting his head fall back against the cushions as you feast on his asshole. You take a moment to breathe, sitting back on your knees and taking hold of Bucky’s length in your free hand; jerking the two men simultaneously and letting your tongue lap at your bottom lip. “Who’s cock you gonna bounce on first, hm? Seein’ as though you’ve been such a good little fucktoy, I’ll let you choose.” 

It’s an impossible choice. How the fuck are you supposed to decide when both look so tempting, so capable of stretching you beyond belief? “I—I can’t. I can’t choose."

Four strong arms hoist you up onto the couch, your body landing on Bucky’s lap and your thighs forcefully straddled either side of his. Steve pinches your cheeks, hooking his fingers at the corners of your mouth as your tongue rolls out; drool spilling down onto your chest and a kitten-like mewl coming from your throat. 

“She can’t decide, Buck.” Steve grins then, menacing and full of obscene intent. “Guess that means she’ll just have to take both.” 

A wave of panic runs through you, Steve maneuvering himself off the couch, his jeans around his ankles and the fleshy weight of his cock smacking against your ass. Your mind tries to wander to your husband, a glimmer of guilt sparking in your chest, but it vanishes just as fast as it appears; Bucky’s tongue sinking into your mouth and the tip of his dick spanking your swollen clit. “Oh, fuck!” 

“You think she can take two cocks in this cunt, Rogers?” His words bring you out of your lustful reverie, anxiety and trepidation shaking you to the core. You tremble, sandwiched between the two of them, their body heat causing your temperature to rise, skin dewy with perspiration. 

“No, wait. I don't think I c—"

"Oh, you can. I know you can," Steve purrs against your ear, a single bead of sweat dripping down your spine. "Don't worry. We've done this before, haven't we? They always start off a little tense, but fuck, once they open up to it they can't get enough." 

Steve grips your waist, holding you still as Bucky’s cock sinks up into your drenched hole. “Fuck, there we fuckin’ go. Knew it’d be worth dealing with that bitch mouth.” 

If your insides weren't melting like warm butter you'd snipe back in retaliation to his insult, but the head of Steve's length poking against your perineum has you stock still, every muscle in your body tensing as you brace yourself for the excessive intrusion. "Please–please go slow." 

"Hey." Bucky's knuckles nudge at your chin as your forehead rests against his shoulder, tilting your gaze up to meet his deep azure state, his features set softer now. "It's no fun for us if it's not fun for you. We ain't gonna hurt you. If it hurts, you tell us to stop. We'll stop. Alright?" 

The stinging stretch causes such pressure on your gut that your eyes glaze over, a subtle wave of nausea washing over your body and a pressure so overwhelming, it's almost beyond comprehension. You've never been this full but they've clearly done this plenty of times before. You can tell by the ease of their movements when they gently begin to thrust [can't think of the word] in and out of your cunt. 

Your body limpens against Bucky's chest, Steve's gliding against your back, a slither of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his sweat-slick skin. It's torture and nirvana all at once, their eager grunts ringing in your ears as you allow them to use your body for their own obscene pleasure. 



You lose track of all sense of time, fucked to within an inch of your own sanity, tugged around like a ragdoll and your limbs manipulated without your own consideration. And you've never felt pleasure like it. 

The cool relief of the wood against your back as they lay you down on the coffee table in the center of the room has you whimpering, your body draped across the sturdy oak and your head hanging off the side. A light tap to your cheek has you struggling to focus on Steve's face as it comes into view, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Hey, where you goin'? You still in there mama?" 

You open your mouth to attempt an answer, immediately muffled by his girth as he feeds it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing instantly and suckling clumsily while he ruts against your face. 

Bucky's fingers plucking at your nipples has a heady whine emitting from your stuffed throat, his cock sliding into your oozing cunt causing your thighs to shake. They've already spilled inside you once. Surely they can't go much longer. Your body is exhausted. "Got you nice n open now, huh? Bet we could keep you here all fuckin' day and you'd still wanna come back for more." 

"Would you like that? You wanna come back?" Steve chuckles, knowing full well you can't answer, spluttering around him each time he drives himself into your mouth. "Yeah, I'll bet you would. Nasty fuckin' whore. You just wanna be a dirty little pleasure pit for college dick, don't you?" 

"Mmph." It's all you can manage, your lips stretched to capacity and your insides wrecked. 

Bucky's surprisingly deft fingers work your clit, softly pinching and strumming, walls beating around his dick like a lusty heartbeat. "She's gonna cum again, aren't you, baby? What's that? Three times now?" 

"I count four. Not that I give a shit." 

If you could talk, you'd say Steve absolutely does give a shit. Nobody puts this much effort into ruining a woman when they don't give a shit. But you're happy to focus on milking his dick with your mouth instead. It keeps you from zoning out completely. 

You’re on the edge of stupid when Steve yanks himself free of your sore throat, thick strings of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. Before you can focus your vision, he's spilling his cum all over your face; sticky, hot droplets landing on your cheeks, lips and chin. 

“There we go. Doesn’t she look pretty, Buck? God, I gotta get a shot of this shit.” Bucky’s thrusts stagger when Steve reaches for his phone, snapping a photograph of your cum-soaked features and grunting in satisfaction at the picture on his screen. 

It’s too late to argue with him, in fact, what’s unfolding doesn’t even register fully in your brain. Your body is still twitching from your last orgasm and you’re certain you can’t take another – and Bucky doesn’t intend on making you suffer through one; pulling out and jerking himself to completion all over your stomach. 

Your head is spinning, the loud click of the camera leveling you out as Steve’s fingers scoop up the pearly droplets on your chin and sink into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion, his digits pressing down on your tongue. 

“That’s a work of art right there, Rogers.” You try to sit up, your limbs boneless and trembling. The guilt begins to settle in as you listen to them laugh, Bucky pulling two beers from the mini fridge in the corner, popping the caps off and handing one to Steve. The sound of glass clinking together makes you wince, the throbbing between your legs nothing in comparison to the heavy sense of regret building in the pit of your stomach. “What’s the matter, mama? You look a little tense. Thought we fucked that right outta you.” 

“You– you took pictures of me.” It’s a statement, not a question. Fear prickles at your skin. What if they show Josh? What if they–

“Calm down, sweetheart. It’s just for my own personal collection. I’m gonna be jerking off over that shit for weeks,” Steve gloats, taking a swig of his beer, your own lips dry and your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I guess a mother really will do anything for her kid, huh?” 

You want to vomit, tears of self resentment in your eyes as you wipe away Steves cum with the back of your hand. Bucky crouches down next to you, a gym towel in his hand as he swipes at the mess on your stomach. “Better get dressed. Frat meeting in 20.”

Your body aches as you stretch out on your couch, the wine helping to ease your pounding head and the soreness lingering in your throat. The sound of the phone ringing on the side table makes you groan. 

“Hello?” you answer, swirling the chardonnay around in your wine glass. 

“Mom?” Josh chirps, panic embroiling you. “Hey, listen. I know I said I was thinking of dropping out but I think I’m gonna stick it out.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, they’ve actually been kinda… nice tonight.” 

“Well that’s wonderful, honey.” 

“Yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” You can hear the echoes of rowdy voices in the background, a party no doubt. “I just wanted to say thank you. You’re a great mom.” 

The phone cuts off and you look to Tony on the opposite end of the couch, a Wendy’s bag on his lap and his arm reaching out to you to offer you some of his fries; fingers coated in shiny grease. “Want one?” 

“No. No, thank you.” 

Heartbeat thunderous in your ears. Breath borderline panting. Then you see him, your step falters. Your hands grab the handle bar trying to right yourself. 

Bucky’s hand shoots out to stabilise you and press the stop button on the treadmill. 

Your eyes shift from the man to Bucky. He frowns at you. 

“Where is your focus?” He worriedly tuns his gaze over you. 

“I’m okay…” You murmur, heat creeping to your cheeks. 

“You sure? I know we’re trying interval running for the first time—,”

“Sir—Bucky,” you correct yourself before he can tell you off again, “I’m okay.” You press on, the heat of his palm against your lower back grounds you more than it should. 

Blue eyes give you a once over, “Okay, how about we try again?” 

He smiles when you nod, you will your heart and mind to focus. When Bucky got assigned as your personal trainer you wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

He’s tall, beefy, with a charming smile and eyes so blue you would tie dumbbells to your feet to drown into, well maybe not that literally but controlling your feelings for him for the past three months had been difficult. 

Every-time he smiled at you, your heart would stop, every repetition he demonstrated you swear your mouth watered with drool brimming past your lips. Then when he joked around and eased your nerves over the whole ordeal to loose weight that that is what set your heart soaring. 

Bucky was sweet, encouraging, the praise for him just never stopped. Everyone at the gym adored him, even if you were mid session and anyone required help he’d look to you if it was okay. He’d jog over help them and return to you. 

He taught you to look at your journey  from the point of view of getting healthier for yourself. Reminding you that the scale is just a number. 

Just like the age gap between the two of you, fourteen years who cares? You definitely don’t, not one damn bit. 

“Ready?” His voice brings you back into the present. You nod. 

“Alright, thirty second intervals, speed at 6.5, and we’ll start at a speed of 3 for thirty seconds then switch higher.” Bucky watches for any signs of confusion on your face, you give him nothing to worry about, he gives you his beaming smile. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the workout. 

Blame the heat on your cheeks on the work—

Then he passes by again, your gym crush, Bucky had been deemed by your best-friends as your Gym Love. 

You watch through the mirror discreetly as the guy-gym crush-because you’re too anxious to even ask his name or approach him. Runs his hand through his hair and you panic when the floor beneath you moves. 

Oh, you’re on the treadmill right. You begin taking the steps, Bucky adjusts the speed to three. 

“What has you distracted? Is everything okay?” He questions and you will yourself not to look at gym crush but your damn eyes betray you because he’s deadlifting and you can hear him groan and why is the speed increasing?

Shit you will yourself to catch up. Bucky follows your gaze to the guy. Then he scoffs calculating the weight the guy is lifting. 

“Not impressive.” He mutters, attention back at you, “Alright there, Doll?”

“Mmhmmm.” You’re on the verge of beginning to pant and he lowers the speed. That damned nickname sends your heart into over drive.

You slow down to a walk catching your breath. 

“How was that?” You question trying to deflect.

“Good, you’re keeping focus.” Bucky murmurs, its stupid he knows being a little petty that you’re stealing glances of someone else. 

“Sorry, I um,” you begin, 

“No don’t apologise, Doll, ready for the next interval?” His eyes meet yours and god he just wants to lean over and kiss you senseless. 

“Yeah, I am.” You grin at him, Bucky increases the speed again. Watching your feet to see if you need any pointers on foot posture and landing. 

This goes on for another fifteen minutes before he gives you a break. When you get down from the treadmill you have to look up at Bucky again because he’s tall. So damned tall he towers over you. You’d be lying if you didn’t want him to lift you up and—, god why does working out turn your brain into a horny mess? 

“Go sit down, drink water, I’ll be back in two minutes okay?” Bucky watches you nod at his words your breath still fast, chest rising and falling, he swallows quickly heading to the main desk where Sam is stationed. 

You make your way to the bench grabbing your water. Involuntarily your eyes scan over the gym, trying to locate your crush. 

Tugging at your t-shirt. To stop it from highlighting your rolls, you sit up straighter as he passes by, heading to the machines. You drink water, then look down at your shoes then towards the area. 

Very fucking discreet, you tell yourself. 

He pays you no mind, focused on his workout. Then he looks your way you look ahead, trying not to make it obvious being caught staring. 

Bucky sighs, Sam shakes his head. 

“Just tell her.” He taps the keyboard, switching playlists. 

“She already has a crush on dudebro deadlifts double digits.” Bucky grimaces, its been three months being your personal trainer, he wanted more, much more. 

Everything about you pulled him in, the way you smile whenever greeting any of the staff, to your jokes during the sessions. The way you would light up when you made progress in your strength. 

God he remembers your scent lingering upon him after hours of you jumping into his arms when you broke your own deadlift personal record. 

Your warmth engulfing him, your skin so soft and pretty he just wanted to sink his teeth and mark you as his own, he could even hear you saying his name over and over.

“Bucky.” Your palm on his hand brings him back into the present. His brows furrow. Thank god for the desk. 

“Y-yeah Doll?” He clears his throat. Sam chortles covering it with a cough, Bucky throws him a glare, then gazes back at you. 

“You alright? It was around ten minutes I got worried…” You bite your lip. Bucky’s gaze falls to them, his tongue peeks out wetting his own bottom lip. 

Your eyes follow the movement, you swallow. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Sam threw paperwork on my head. I’ll walk in with you. You feel up for doing abs or have I worn you out?” He wiggles his brows. 

You giggle, “It takes a lot more than an interval training to wear me out.” 

“Are you challenging me, Doll?” His lips curve up into a smirk. 

Your core pulses at the innuendos being exchanged. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, looking away to breathe. 

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Come on, three variations with two sets of twenty reps, I’ll go easy on ya.” He winks when you look back up at him.  

“When have you ever gone easy on me?” You feign surprise. 

“You’d know when I get rougher, Doll.” Bucky pipes back. 

Sam coughs in warning. Bucky purses his lips, thinking of thoughts that should help rid of his hidden predicament. 

Your fingers intertwine out of nervousness. Licking your lips, “I’ll wait in the studio?” 

“Yeah be there in a second.” He promises as you trace the path back. 

“Just ask her. You’re both practically eye fucking the other.” Sam waves a hand gesturing between Bucky and where you were standing. 

“She’s not interested in me—,” Bucky’s brows furrow pondering over the conversation, “do you think?”

“Man go ask her out before I throw you in the morning shift.” Sam warns as Bucky finds his way to you. 

You’re in the studio, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Fiddling with the corner of the mat. 

“Hey.” Bucky smiles when you grin at him, “Hey.” 

“So I was thinking I’d do the reps with you.” He moves to grab a mat for himself.  

“Won’t that be too slow for you?” You blink up at him. 

“Nope.” He sits on the mat, “Now, first classic crunch, ready?” 

You nod getting into position as does he, “Ready and go.” 

How Bucky is able to keep the counts and do the reps is beyond you. 

He’s staying true to his word in tandem with your movements. 

You have to will yourself to do the reps instead of watching him. The way his hair begins to fall on his forehead and without breaking his movement he shakes it away.

Beads of sweat line your forehead and you grunt laying back covering your face with your palms just as Bucky gives the last call for the rep. That last set took a lot of energy out of you. 

“Hey Doll,” Bucky leans over, you move your hands to look up at him. 

“Yeah Bucky?” breathing is still hard even more so with those azure eyes gazing down at you. 

“You okay?” He checks in, gaze tracing over you.

You nod, “Just need to catch my breath—,”

The door to the studio slams open, Bucky looks up. You sit up, gym crush stands there looking at Bucky. 

“Yes?” He questions the dudebro. 

“You’re a trainer right? I need a spotter, the dude on the front desk is with a client showing the gym. You’re the only other free trainer.” He says, Bucky raises a brow looking towards you. 

“I’m with a client.” He gestures with his palm. 

You offer a smile, “Its okay…”

Bucky scoffs when the idiot doesn’t even thank you. Just gestures to the training area for him to follow.

“Mannerless.” He comments, you frown.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes, of course you wouldn’t like anything bad said about your whatever the idiot is to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask hopeful, even though its your day for cardio having Bucky there makes it better cause he alway made funny faces through the mirror while passing by. You did the same to him just a little more discreet if he was with a client.

“Oh I have to go help a friend move so I might not be there when you usually come in… you can do your usually routine, elliptical, treadmill, cycling or jump rope’s cool too.” He helps you up not letting go of your hand even as you both are standing.

You like that, holding Bucky’s hand. He might not like it though so you look down and he blushes moving his hand away, if though he really didn’t want to do so.

“I’ll see you day after then?” You offer, he nods.

“See you, Doll.” Bucky smiles when he spots you smiling shyly at the nickname.

The next day at the gym you feel Bucky’s absence. Usually he’s smiling, greeting you or making a joke. Checking in upon your diet and how you’re doing mentally. He always made sure to know about your headspace.

You’re getting down from the treadmill making way to the water station. That is when gym crush walks in, you make eye contact while filling your bottle, in a moment of boldness. You offer him a smile. 

He stares at you with his dark eyes, then his face morphs into a disgusted grimace. You look back to your water bottle, moving away rushing over to the locker room.

You can’t get his expression out of your head, the mirrors in the room turn sinister, you cover your face, heading into one of the stalls.

Resting your forehead against the door, trying to quiet your breathing and tears. Your weight didn’t please any man who held your romantic admirations, it was always a factor and despite the hard-work done these past few months it seemed as if this was to waste as well. 

“Fuck.” You mutter, trying to find the positives over the past few months. Everything Bucky has done for you, taught you, you sniffle. It doesn’t work. Not even the mental footage of him doing dumbbell floor presses helps to distract your mind.

Wiping your eyes you grab your bag from the locker, heading out, not bothering to look at anyone. 

As luck would have it you collide into someone, palms engulf your arms, steadying you. His cedar and patchouli scent surrounds you. Bucky.

“Doll.” Is all he says, you don’t look up at him.

You try to keep the sniffle down, but the stupid sound blubbers out. Immediately his calloused hands grasp your face, making you look up into his eyes. 

“Who did this?” Bucky’s eyes scan over the gym floor.

His gaze settles on dudebro, his jaw clenches and eyes narrow.

“Bucky, no one—,” You attempt to defuse the situation.

“Don’t lie to me, Doll.” He warns, one hand leaves your cheek, wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you into the private office.

“You’re going to tell me the truth.” Bucky demands.

“There isn’t anything to say—,”

“That’s it.” He moves without warning, grasping your hips and you’re lifted up, and settled onto the desk, your legs parted to have him stand between them chest to chest.

You’re out of breath without having moved a muscle. 

“Bucky?” Is all you can muster out, he grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head back only slightly.

“Doll, you’re crying and its not the happy tears I’ve seen you shed and wiped away. Now please, please tell me what happened.” He requests, all the earlier range he harboured gone but not forgotten.

“I,” Your chest tightens and your eyes close, as though it would erase it all away. 

“Take your time, Doll.” He encourages, thumb tracing over your jaw.

You gaze into his eyes, the warm comfort in them beckoning you close, “You might think it’s stupid.” you warn.

“Try me.” He shrugs, giving a soft smile.

You swallow and then spill the entirety of the event.

“He grimaced at you?” Bucky confirms, you nod.

“I’m going to kill him.” He begins to pull away and you instinctively wrap your legs around him to stop him.

“Doll—,”

“I’m so sorry—,”

“No fuck, I’ve thought of this so many times…” Bucky trails off.

“You, you have?” Your eyes widen, as he nods again.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me, all I can think about is you. Every sense of mine attitude to you.” He rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes.

“I’ve thought about you too.” Your quiet admission has him smile.

“What have you thought about?” His curiosity getting the better of him.

“How your arms feel around him, how would it be to see you outside of here… to, to have you lift me up like—,” You squeal when he lifts you again, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands on his shoulders, Bucky grins mischievously.

You’re pressed against the wall and him.

“Like this?” He questions, breathless, eyes shifting between your lips and gaze.

“Yes.” the words a breathless whisper.

“Doll I really, really want to kiss you.” He admits, you raise your palm to cup his cheek, shifting your head towards him.

Bucky’s breath fans across your face, his lips are slightly chapped but soft, warm and oh so sinful. The kiss is bruising, he completely dominates and you allow him to, his tongue exploring your mouth and he sucks upon your bottom lip.

You tug on his lip as he pulls away, Bucky audibly groans. 

“You’re so beautiful, so magnificent. And you taste so addicting.” Bucky rests his forehead against yours again, this time both of you stare into each other’s eyes.

You can’t keep the grin off of your face nor can he, “So does this mean I can take you out to dinner?” He requests.

“Yeah, yeah you can.” You answer smiling, his lips meet yours again.

permanent bucky tag: @slutforsexyseabass