metal arm slut

surprise gift giveaway → for @seeleybooth ♡

A/N: Did I come up with AN EXTRA series while I have two in the works already? What are you? A cop? Mind your own business. That said, feedback is appreciated and requests are open! 

The Lover series will be a series of unrelated one shots.

Warnings: "death", sickening fluff, sexy times?, offensive language (40s slang for “gay”)

Word Count: 4,102

Summary: And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends, I’d never walk Cornelia Street again, that’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend.

Brooklyn, June 4th 1942.

James Buchanan Barnes was a ladies man. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t a manwhore or player in any way… He just loved women, so much. Bucky’s talk was as smooth as a dolphin, words that poured from his lips and into unaware ears like honey, sweet, sweet honey.

Steve envied the way he seemed to always have the right words just waiting to be said, just right at the tip of his tongue, while Steve struggled to even flirt. Bucky’s smooth ways allowed him to learn how to talk to, how to hold, how to touch a woman, and God, did he know how.

Bucky had a silver tongue. Until a cat named Y/N caught it.

That being saaaaid. You’re still burning organic material, which still creates carcinogens, and the psychoactive properties can stunt brain growth in the youngins in the memory sector. Don’t smoke with kids, not in the car, not next to you, and not to be the cool parent.

It’s still smoke. People with asthma can still be fucked over, it can still burn eyes, be polite.