.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.

pairings: childhood bestfriend!draco malfoy x fem!reader, malfoy!male oc x fem!reader

warnings: angst on draco’s part, draco is pining over reader for years, jealous!draco, reader is quite clueless, draco is in denial about being friends with a girl (at the start), and inappropriate language.

summary: draco had found solace in you and his valued friendship; he was fortunate that you were his best friend and that you were extraordinary and lovely, the polar opposite of him. he didn't realize he had feelings for you until you admitted that you like his older brother, and he had to endure years of longing until he eventually had enough of seeing you in his brother's arms.

author’s note: i suck at summaries but enjoy! not proofread btw, i was lazy. do not translate or paste this on another platform strictly everything belongs to me, do not claim it as yours, do not plagiarize, thank you.

word count: 5.5k

WHEN DRACO WAS six years old, he met you. He was accustomed with your parents since they frequently visited the manor—your mother and Narcissa were good friends throughout their Hogwarts years—but he was unfamiliar with you. Draco was definitely aware of your existence; he would have heard about you in the drawing room, where his mother and yours would drink tea and discuss a young girl named Y/N.

His mother would brighten up and signal him to come closer when he entered the drawing room to fetch some cookies. She'd remark on him meeting a girl his age, and your mother, with a radiant grin, promised to bring you once she came back to the manor. Draco was first dubious; he didn't want to be friends with a girl, so he scowled as his mother gushed about how pleased she was for him to meet you.

He was irritated by that. Draco was averse to meeting new people and forming friendships with them. He desired to be with his father and older brother, Atlas. Despite the fact that Atlas was only eight years old, their father was employing a slew of tutors and trainers to prepare him for his role as the Malfoy family's eldest heir. Draco also preferred to be prepared like his brother rather than be probed by someone far worse, a girl who would most likely chat about dresses and tea parties.

He'd form hundreds of conclusions about you before even meeting you, making plans to despise you. Draco was so apprehensive of your parents returning to the manor with you that he'd begged his mother to let him and his brother play quidditch to avoid meeting you. It was a stupid decision that he profoundly regretted.

“As beautiful as ever, my dear, like a princess.”

When your parents and you, as a youngster, came to visit the mansion, his mother said that to you. Your mother placed a hand on your lower back to nudge you into Narcissa's waiting hands when you clung to the hem of your mother's skirts, looking bashful and nervous. You approached his mother with trepidation and cautious steps, who kissed your cheeks and pinched it, marveling at how adorable you are.

Draco was taken aback when he found himself agreeing with his mother. His mother would generally read a story to him and Atlas about princesses and princes, so he was well-versed about the subject. Princesses were characterized as elegant and lovely, constantly dressed in exquisite gowns and smiling with delicate grins. You were a natural match for the princess character.

You were dressed nicely at the time, your cheeks were delicate and flushed, yet despite your timid demeanor, your stance was elegant. Draco had seen a lot of girls his age since his parents would go to gatherings and he'd meet young girls who wore dresses and clung to their mothers, but he was certain you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. But he wouldn't say it out loud.

You smiled shyly at him at the moment, uncertain but with an encouraging grin from Narcissa. You spoke to him, your voice gentle and sweet, and offered him your name. Draco gave you an unimpressed look at first, almost like he still didn't want to be friends with you. He didn't bother to mention his name back, which made you frown; he could see his mother giving him a warning look, but his brother may have rescued him before he could speak forcefully.

Draco would have eventually regretted that, but he didn't realize it at the time because he was only six years old and refused to be friends with a girl, no matter how pretty she was.

“Hello, Y/N,” Atlas said kindly, tenderly staring at the girl. “My name is Atlas, and I'm Draco's older brother.”

You'd suddenly brighten, your eyes gleaming as you smiled at Atlas, maybe relieved. Draco's mother gave him a disappointed look, but the six-year-old Draco didn't seem to mind. He wanted to play quidditch and had a nasty desire to make you feel left out, but he couldn't since he couldn't find someone to play with. Atlas was busy entertaining you, and he seemed to stick by your side like a bloody leech the entire time.

When Draco was obliged to sit down in the drawing room with his mother, your mother, you, and Atlas, he sulked and a scowl tugged at his lips. You were eating cookies, practiced and lovely, despite your age, you ate like a well-mannered woman, and Draco was studying you, looking for flaws, even watching you as you drank milk, hoping you'd spill it on your lovely dress, which you didn't.

Atlas would allow Draco engage his talk with you, and Draco was obstinate, glaring at you and dismissing his brother with crossed arms. Atlas was amused and merely shrugged before carrying on with your conversation, while Draco sulked and tried to find something other than you to gaze at.

When his mother observed him peeking at you, she discreetly murmured, “You should talk to Y/N. She's your age and a lovely young girl.”

Your mother smiled slightly when she heard what his mother said. “Y/N was delighted to meet you and hoped you'd become wonderful friends.”

Your round, sparkling eyes widened and you flushed at what your mother said, so you stopped talking to Atlas. Atlas chuckled and fidgeted with the ends of your hair where he sat beside you. Draco frowns; he had no idea that you and his brother were already friendly, but Atlas had the ability to be friends with anybody.

Draco considered it for a moment before reluctantly agreeing, and he began a conversation with you, and he could see your mother and his mother smiling at you guys, and Draco resisted the urge to sigh, and he felt invigorated seeing your beaming smile, despite being nervous, the entire day you and Draco chatted, and his mother suggested that he tour you around the manor, and Draco agreed, and he toured you around with Atlas.

The first thing they did was walk out into the backyard, where the grass was lush and lovely, and there were three brooms laying on the grass that their house-elf had forgotten to discard, but Draco knew he had left it there because he had wanted to play with Atlas earlier. You gazed about, carefree, and made a point of staying near to Draco and Atlas. Suddenly you noticed the broom and stared at it curiously.

“What is that?” you asked cautiously, your voice full of astonishment.

Draco was staring at you as if you'd sprouted two heads. “You've never heard of broomsticks?”

You were embarrassed and unsure of yourself; perhaps you had a flaw at the time. “Am I supposed to know?”

“Of course—”

“No, not really,” Atlas chuckled softly at what you asked as he regarded Draco warningly. “It's an item of quidditch equipment.”

“My father told me about quidditch,” you responded, a flicker of recognition flashing over your face. “However, I'm not sure whether I really fully comprehend it…”

Atlas reassured you, “It's nothing to be embarrassed of.”

Draco frowned as he stared at you, thinking it was something to be embarrassed of. Quidditch is such a popular sport in the Wizarding World and he recalls visiting matches with his brother and father, but he wasn't shocked because he believed quidditch was only known by boys.

He groaned and rolled his eyes, thinking that if he had friends, they should at least be familiar with quidditch. They then proceeded to the corridor, which was lined with about a hundred paintings of the Malfoys and their ancestors. You had stood there in wonder, talking just then and now, while Draco would respond boredly and Atlas would respond compassionately.

It was humorous because you were enthralled by everything you saw. When you and Draco followed Atlas into the dark corridors, you appeared like a doll, eyes wide and posture upright. Atlas strolled ahead, gesturing at the portraits and paintings as if he were a tour guide.

They then proceeded to the kitchen, where buslings house-elves were busy preparing meals, making tea, and generally preparing food. Before beginning their work, they greeted you three. One house-elf approached the three of you, with enormous, tennis-ball-like green eyes, a pencil-like nose, and long, bat-like pointed ears. Draco noticed your beaming smile at the house-elf.

“That's Dobby, our house-elf,” Atlas said, grinning. “He has been with us when I was six, like Draco's age.”

As you gazed at Dobby, your smile was gentle and kind. “Hello, Dobby; my name is Y/N.”

Dobby's eyes widened as he glanced at you. “Miss Y/N, Dobby is delighted to meet you; are you friends with both Mr. Malfoys, miss?”

You looked hesitant for a moment, casting a fleeting glance towards Draco before averting your gaze. Atlas placed a hand on your shoulder, possibly sensing your apprehension, and he was about to speak when Draco interjected, surprising both Atlas and you.

“Yeah,” Draco answered grudgingly.

You flashed him a shocked look while he just shrugged at you, ignoring your smile, and the delightful friendship began.

When Draco received his Hogwarts letter, the first thing he did was write to you, demanding that you visit the Malfoy manor. Draco was a demanding child even at the age of eleven, and you were the polar opposite, a gentle and lovely personality that his mother and your mother would admire for the balance of your friendship.

When you and your mother arrived at Draco's house, he questioned, “Did you receive yours?”

You enthusiastically nodded. “I did,”

Draco recalled you two sitting in the garden with a blanket on the grass, as he asked Dobby to get it for you so dirt won't stain your skirt. As you ate cookies, orange juice, and other delicacies on the mat, you talked about Hogwarts and how pleased you were to finally attend the school that your parents admired.

You stated that moment, eating on cookies and glancing over the garden, “Atlas told me Charms would be fun. I think it is easy for him since it is his favorite subject.”

Draco rolled his eyes and frowned at you for a while before tucking into some candies. “Charms is boring; potions is far more exciting.”

“It's because you had your Uncle Sev tutor you before you even went to Hogwarts,” you replied, laughing, and Draco agreed.

You offered him a sly grin. “I'm guessing you're going to join the quidditch team?”

“Of course,” Draco said, as if it were self-evident. “But first years can't try out yet,” he grumbled, “so I'll have to wait till my second year.”

You inquired, “What house do you think you'll be in?”

Draco gave you a mocking glare that made you pout at him. “Honestly, your questions are so obvious,” he said. “Of course, Slytherin.”

“Your entire family is Slytherin,” you added, your voice filled with astonishment and awe.

Draco was smug because of your voice. “Obviously, Slytherin is the best house; it'd be a pity if you were placed in another.”

You frowned, and Draco felt a pang of remorse inside him. “Atlas promised me that whichever house I'm in, I'll do great.”

Draco had to fight the urge to frown. You trust anything that comes out of Atlas' mouth, and since Draco is your best friend, you should believe anything he says. Years passed despite Draco's obstinacy, and you became inseparable with one another. You and Draco grew closer since Atlas had his own friends his own age.

Draco would be lying if he said he despised your dependency on Atlas. His brother would take you under his wing and lead you through Hogwarts, he already knew. Draco would've been exaggerating if he stated his brother was unpopular, not only because he was a Malfoy, but also because Atlas was known as a handsome and friendly Slytherin. Atlas had a lot of love letters in Valentines when he was only twelve, and Atlas would write Draco letters about it, claiming he was entertained.

Atlas' letters would be about how aggravating and humorous he found the love letters addressed to him. Even though he was thirteen and in his third year, Atlas had yet to fancy a girl. Draco's older brother was very focused in class, on his academics, friends, and, of course, you. Atlas would write you a slew of letters about Hogwarts, including one in which he expressed his delight at the prospect of you joining.

“Sure.” Draco sniffed arrogantly, “But, if you want to be more successful, you must be sorted into Slytherin.”

Draco gazed at you for a moment, and saw you fiddling with the hem of your skirt with your little fingers. “Would we still be friends even if I'm not sorted into Slytherin?”

Of course, Draco thought without hesitation.

He'd met a lot of kids his age at gatherings and pureblood parties, but he'd never met someone like you. Because of his older brother Atlas and the fact that he was a Malfoy, kids normally draw close to him, but you weren't like that. Despite his frigid and domineering personality, you struck beside him with your decency and kindness, softening Draco's stubbornness. When his mother introduced you to him, he thanked her every day in his thoughts.

When his brother came into their line of vision, he was saved from replying. When you saw Atlas, Draco could see how your timid personality brightened. When Atlas sat next to you, messing with your braided hair, Draco groaned, and you swatted Atlas' hands away with a small grin.

Atlas asked, “What were you talking about?”

You shrugged, your gaze averted from Draco. “About the Hogwarts houses,”

His grey eyes shone brightly. “Are you excited? I'm entering into my third year, and there are some new subjects.”

“Yes,” you answered, your face beaming with delight. “But, I'm also nervous.”

Atlas grimaced before shifting his focus to Draco. “Don't believe anything Draco says; you'd be great there.”

“I didn't even say anything,” Draco muttered, attempting to avoid the frown that formed on his face every time he remembered your unhappy pout.

When you and Draco arrived at Hogwarts, he was already acting as if he owned the place, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, despite the fact that you were there alongside him, looking warm, lovely, and small. Draco had forced you to accompany him on the whole journey to Hogwarts, including the train, the boat, and the sorting ceremony.

Draco was sorted into Slytherin, much to nobody's surprise, and he was greeted in the snake pit with loud applause and a pleased smile from Atlas, who patted Draco on the shoulder as he reached the table with the greens. Draco began chanting Slytherin under his breath as if manifesting you in the Slytherin house as your name was announced, and Atlas looked to be muttering under his breath as he saw you sit on the stool.

As the hat yelled Slytherin on top of your head, Draco's chant must have been heard. When you met his eyes and offered him an enthusiastic smile, he found himself grinning like a fool. As you approached, Atlas offered you a quick embrace and a broad smile, which you imitated. You were meant to sit next to Draco, but he sat next to Crabbe and Goyle, and before Draco could swat them away to make room for you, a blonde girl approached you and offered to sit beside her.

The school years went by quickly, and while Draco and you were best friends, you had your own group of friends, all of whom were your roommates. You and Draco would talk in the common room or even the library in your spare time, where he would spit bitter words and complain about Potter and his goons, while you sat there disapprovingly.

Despite being a Slytherin, you were quite respected. Draco was aware of this; you were lovely, well-behaved, kind hearted, and it was a mystery to everybody how the sweet Y/N L/N could be friends with the arrogant young Malfoy.

Draco had a large number of friends. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and the bloody fools Crabbe and Goyle, who were more like his bodyguards. Regardless of his friends, he'd always find his way to you, and you to him. At the end of the day, you'd be back beside Draco, talking and studying.

You fared fairly well in your first year, with high grades, following the lead of Muggleborn Hermione Granger, whom Draco despises wholeheartedly. You've become close friends with Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and Tracey Davis, and you've spent a lot of time with them, but Draco has always made sure he gets half of your time.

Atlas was a busy student, but he found time to spend with you and Draco; he gave advice, which Draco ignored, annoyed that his brother was bothering both of your time, but you didn't seem to mind—of course you didn't, you were too pleasant—listened to Atlas' advice for class, making new friends, and even how to treat subject professors charmingly.

Atlas would occasionally invite you and Draco to his quidditch practice, and Draco would watch there, half-impressed by his brother's skills and half-annoyed that you were observing the procedure with such zeal. Draco, but on the other hand, was pompous about how you'd ask him questions and he'd answer them all effortlessly.

In your second year, the routine persisted. Although the girls and your friendship became closer, you still had time for your best friend. And you and Draco were finally comfortable as second years, he'd get into his ritual of complaining about Potter and you'd listen in, miffed, and Atlas was more keen to assist you guys, he was in his fourth year, skillful and intelligent as he was.

Draco was a part of the Slytherin quidditch team, and you assured him that you would attend every practice. And you went with Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey, watching in admiration as Draco showed off his skills despite only being a second year. He'd explain the basics of quidditch to you in the common room at night, and you'd listen intently, just like he would when you told him about the new books you were reading, and he'd listen with a slight smile on his face.

The third year came to a conclusion, and summer began. Draco, you, Daphne, Pansy, and Theo were all at your place. Draco couldn't care less about Crabbe and Goyle as Tracey stated she was in Italy and Blaise was in France. You were both fourteen at the time, and as the years went, Draco grew more protective, affectionate, and eager to be in your company.

As you talked and listened to whatever Pansy was babbling about, his head was laying on your lap and you were playing with his hair—normally he would loathe the notion of anyone touching his hair, but it seems you were an exception.

“I'm just fussing because it's bloody annoying,” Pansy grumbled. “He won't take the hint, despite the fact that I've already rejected him three times!”

Daphne smirked and cast a knowing glance at Pansy. “Perhaps because your rejection was unclear? If my memory serves me correctly, you merely left the poor boy alone at the Three Broomsticks with no explanation.”

Pansy locked her gaze on Daphne and crossed her arms fiercely. “How do you tell a boy who clearly fancies you that you're not fond of men in general?”

Draco instinctively smiled when he heard you chuckle from above. “Perhaps you should've just been honest?” you said softly, your voice gentler than Pansy's high pitched ones.

Pansy gave you a sidelong glance. She cynically remarks, “Not everyone is as lovely as you are, Y/N.”

“Watch your tone, Pansy,” Draco said lowly, not raising his head.

Theo said to Pansy while fiddling with his ring, his tone suggestive. “Rather than deceiving yourself into thinking you're interested in fake dating boys, you should just ask Tessa out.”

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. Tessa had been the Ravenclaw Pansy's crush since the beginning of their third year. Pansy was in denial; she merely made up excuses about how much she despises Tessa, so she could gaze at her across the room and seem to be glaring at her. You and Draco found it humorous.

Pansy snarled at Theo, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like her? She's an obnoxious Ravenclaw who thinks she knows more than the rest of us.”

“She is sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason,” Theo said, just to irritate Pansy.

As Daphne turned to you and Draco, Pansy and Theo continued to argue—mostly Pansy was annoyed, while Theo was laughing.

“Well, what about you, Y/N?” Daphne asked.

You sounded perplexed. “What about me?”

You got a teasing grin from the blonde girl. “Why haven't you agreed to any of the boys who asked you out in your first Hogsmeade last year?”

Draco bristled, and he frowned when he noticed your fingers had ceased caressing with his hair. He didn't like it when boys asked you out on dates or expressed interest in you. Because you were his best friend, he was protective of you, therefore he found himself paying great attention to what Daphne had to say.

If Draco thought you were beautiful when you first met at the age of six, you grew up to be even more gorgeous. You grew taller, your hair grew longer, and the outfits and dresses you wore became more fitted and flattering on you. It didn't surprise him that so many people liked you, yet it irritated him greatly.

“I don't like any of them,” you respectfully stated, and Draco sensed that you didn't want to talk about it any longer.

“That's because Draco here hovers behind Y/N like a black shadow and his glares and stares scare the shit out of the boys,” Pansy said, pausing her argument with Theo.

Draco only glared at Theo as he reluctantly sat up from where his head lay in your lap, while Theo gave him a knowing grin.

“Not to mention Atlas,” added Pansy.

Daphne is swooning. “He's so hot, I'm surprised he doesn't have a girlfriend yet.”

“The fuck,” Draco grumbled, strangely staring at Daphne.

Pansy giggled, and her face began to relax. “Look, I'm not a big fan of boys, but Atlas has this aura around him.”

Draco turned to you, hoping you weren't involved in Pansy's shenanigans, but you were blushing, much to his astonishment and horror. You were fucking blushing. Draco liked to assume it was because of the sunlight blazing down on your flawless face, giving you a beautiful sheen, but he knew he was wrong.

“He doesn't talk to a lot of girls,” Daphne expressed her displeasure. “What does it feel like to be lucky, Y/N?”

Your face flushed. “Lucky?”

Daphne shrugged her shoulders. “He only talks to you,”

Draco had no idea where this talk was leading, but he wanted to put an end to it. “Of course, Atlas is like her older brother already.”

He glanced at you, expecting you to nod and agree, but you remained silent. You were acting strangely, Draco could feel himself frowning.

“Older brother?” Pansy said, laughing as if Draco were an idiot. “I think it's rather obvious.”

“Yeah,” Daphne said, a thoughtful expression on her face. “And we'll be in our fourth year this year, so I think it'll be convenient.”

Draco spat, “Convenient?”

He received a look from the blonde girl. “I thought you were aware of your brother's stance on Y/N?”

Draco hoped he didn't know they were discussing what he was thinking about. Draco cast another glance at you, noticing you playing with the hem of your sundress, something he knew you did only if you were nervous or bashful, and Draco sensed you felt the former.

“Y/N?” Draco probed, his gaze falling on you. “What are they talking about?”

You were reluctant, but a glance from Draco prompted you to speak, albeit timidly. “Promise me you won't get angry?”

“Bold of you to think he'd be angry at you,” Theo muses, his mouth clamped to avoid a scowl from Draco.

“Well?” Draco said, his brows knitted.

Everyone turned to look at you; despite their teasing smiles, Pansy and Daphne offered you supportive nods, and Theo, like Draco, seemed intrigued and a little worried by your answer.

“I fancy Atlas.” You eventually answered, blushing and avoiding Draco's eyes, “Ever since I was in second year…”

The words pierced Draco's heart like a knife. He had no idea or was unaware of this, and while he should be pleased that you liked his brother rather than some other bloke, he was also enraged, why his brother?

Theo whistled lowly, “Low blow.”

“He's kind, appreciative,” you proceeded to talk about his brother, and while Draco admired your voice, he hoped you would just stop talking.

Draco didn't realize it at first; after all, he's your best friend, so he should know everything about you, right? But he was plainly mistaken. There was also a Triwizard Tournament in your fourth year. Draco complained about the silly competition again since Harry Potter was in it, and while you watched the first task, Draco continued wishing the dragon would eat Potter, much to your chagrin.

He could still recall how you blushed at the mention of his brother, and he resorted to observing you whenever Atlas was around. Draco adored your dazzling grin and bright eyes, but what made him devastated was the fact that Atlas seemed to reciprocate it as well.

There was a Yule Ball after the first task. Many students were ecstatic, but some were nervous—especially the boys—because dates were being asked, and some feared rejection. Draco was unconcerned about it; many girls had approached him in the halls and in class, and he had just ignored them all.

As they strolled into the courtyard, Theo asked, “When are you going to ask Y/N? For all you know, she may have already been asked.”

Blaise was busy looking for a date, while Theo had already agreed to accompany Daphne. And as the days passed, Draco began to yearn you; it took him years and a whack in the head from Theo for him to recognize he had feelings for you. His best friend.

It was silly of him to embrace these thoughts; he didn't want to jeopardize your friendship, but both Theo and Blaise were pressing him to ask you to the Yule Ball as a date, and Draco had been thinking about it since the Tournament was announced. He didn't understand why he was always worried about this; after all, he was Draco Malfoy, and something as little as this shouldn't bother him. But it wasn't a frivolous deed, especially because it involved you.

“Where is she?” Draco inquired, his brows furrowed in puzzlement.

Theo was about to say something but he stopped, almost falling as he looked ahead of him, and Draco looked at him with irritation, but Theo's eyes were wide and he was pointing at something across the space, and he looked like a bubbling fool with his mouth twitching open and closed, and Draco would have been amused if he hadn't turned his head to the direction Theo was pointing at.

“Holy shit,” Theo exhales as he regains his balance.

Holy shit indeed. You were in the courtyard, but this time with Atlas. And Draco could see what was going on, Atlas looked sheepish and like a lovesick idiot, and you were beaming with a bouquet of daisies under your nose, your favorite flower. Draco felt as if he were seeing a horror film, and he could feel himself becoming shallow in disbelief and even betrayed.

Draco did what he did best after that fairly dreadful display in the courtyard: he sulked. He didn't pay any attention to you, didn't let you tell him about your Yule Ball date, and Draco didn't welcome you with a hug every morning like he used to. Draco knew he was behaving childish by ignoring his brother, but it upset him to see that his best friend, whom he had feelings for, like his brother.

After much deliberation, Draco and Blaise chose to attend the Yule Ball without any dates, much to the astonishment of everyone since girls admired Draco and Blaise for their attractive looks, engaging personality, and background.

Theo, Daphne, Blaise, and Draco all went to the Yule Ball together—Pansy went with a Durmstrang student, which Daphne assumed was because someone had already asked Tessa and Pansy was envious. To everyone's amusement, Pansy, of course, denied it. You, on the other hand, were with his brother.

It was difficult to ignore you. Draco's gaze has been fixed on your form since you entered the ball. You wore a lovely gown that accentuated your contours, and your hair was groomed to perfection, as did the jewelries adorning your wrists, ears, and neck. You looked like a princess, Draco could feel himself swallow a bitter air.

He left the ball with a sour taste in his mouth and stepped outside, letting the snow kiss him on the cheek. He couldn't stand there and watch you have a good time, dancing and laughing while looking so lovely in his brother's arms. If he had been friendlier when he first met you, like Atlas, perhaps your perception of him would have been different, or perhaps it was because you just see him as a friend. Draco closed his eyes to drown off the thoughts.

“You didn’t dance.”

He turned around when he heard a voice speak from behind him, and it was you. Even in the dark, your cheeks were flushed from the exhilaration of dancing and the few sips of champagne, you shone brightly.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek with his teeth. He nearly sneered, “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be dancing with Atlas?”

His tone made you frown. “I was hoping to dance with you.”

Draco was on the verge of rolling his eyes. “You have Atlas for that,”

“Draco, what's wrong with you?” you said quietly, biting your bottom lip, and his gaze followed your action unconsciously. “For the past few days, you've been avoiding me... did I do anything wrong?”

He wanted to reply, No, you didn't, you'll never be able to, but he never did.

Instead, he fixed his cool gaze on you. “For a long time, you never told me you liked Atlas,”

Your eyes lit up in realization. “It's about this, isn't it?”

“Of course it's about this,” Draco snarled as he approached you. “It's always fucking about this.”

You look down and Draco takes a deep breath and grabs your chin with his fingers, forcing you to gaze up. He stood near to you and his thoughts were at war; your lips were tempting, but he told himself he was upset at you, and he had to swallow his desire as he glared at you.

“You've been snapping at boys who get close to me, and I'm tired of it,” you began. “And now you're upset with Atlas, your brother, which I hoped would make you less protective of me and allow me to have my fun.”

“You just don’t get it,” Draco whispers. “Do you?”

“Get what?”

Draco exclaimed, releasing his fingers from your chin and moving away from you, “That I've liked you since the first time I met you,”

You gave him a shake of your head. “No, you despised me when you first met me,”

Draco rubbed his face with his hands, not looking at you, and said, “I was six years old for fucks sake. I had a hard time expressing myself to a girl. I wanted to despise you, believe me, I did.”

For a little while, the only noises you could hear were the cold wind blow and the background sounds from the ball. People were coming in and out, but they didn't notice or care about you and Draco, who were hidden in the corner.

“What about now?” you asked. “What do you want?”

Draco's hands were clenched. “Now,” he murmured, his voice low yet sure. “I'd want to kiss you.”

You were silent for a time before saying, “Then kiss me,”

Draco gave you a stunned expression before grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you. The sensation of your lips on his made him drunk on you, and his hands wandered to your waist, pulling you closer to him and sharing his warmth.

He pulled away first, hesitantly but he didn't let go of your waist. “What about Atlas?”

“I've been an idiot,” you said, staring up at him. “I just realized I've had feelings for you the whole time, and I simply convinced myself that I like Atlas. I just didn't want to jeopardize our friendship…”

“We're both idiots,” he said as he kissed you again, and this time Draco felt absolutely thrilled to finally have you in his arms.

taken.

mafia!bucky x f!reader

summary: when you are captured by Bucky’s enemy, he will stop at nothing to get you back, and remind everyone the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.

warnings: cursing, fear, mafia business, blood, dismemberment (not graphic), angst, bucky speaking russian (it’s a warning for sure)

word count: 2,373

Terror tried to wedge its way into your veins, but you truly could not find it in yourself to find a hint of fear inside of you. Even as you sat in a dim, damp, concrete room, your wrists bound behind your back and your ankles tied to a rickety chair, you found yourself… almost bored.

If you were anybody else in this position, you’d probably be suffering from a severe panic attack, shivering and shaking in the chair. But you were you, and you were infamously linked to him - the one who every single person had good reason to fear. Every single person except for yourself.

James Barnes ran New York and its surrounding cities. He was, by far, the most powerful, capable being within a 1,000 mile radius. And he was yours.

You and Bucky had met a few years earlier. The second he set his eyes on you, he knew you’d be his. You balanced each other out in a way that had other people longing for a relationship like yours. Where he was ruthless and mighty, you were benevolent and good-natured. Where you were anxious and unsure, he was collected and comforting. Of course, you were more than capable of handling the lifestyle that came with dating Bucky, but he dedicated all of his energy and resources to assure that you were carefully shielded and would never gain a scratch from his work.

He held his promise until yesterday.

All it took was one second of distraction, one second of Bucky’s porcelain eyes leaving your frame, and you were taken. Snatched from his sight, your shared home, his territory. You were gone, and he blamed himself completely.

You, on the other hand, felt fine. Your captors - some investors in Bucky’s business who got ‘screwed over,’ as they put it - knew that if they hurt you too badly, there’d be hell to pay. So far, you only sported a yellowing bruise on your cheek and raw skin where the restraints dug into your bones. You’d been gone for almost ten hours, meaning that Bucky was due any second.

“When do you think we can wrap this up?” You said through an exaggerated yawn, eyeing the two men who guarded you. One, a burly man with too much facial hair and a protruding belly, merely regarded you for a second before turning his gaze back to the door. The other one, named Charles, tensed his jaw and fluttered his eyes shut in annoyance.

“You shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” he spat.

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your seat. “All bark and no bite.”

“You fucking bi-” Charles began stalking towards you, malice in his eyes, but he stopped suddenly when an echoing bang sounded from outside of the room. “That must be your dear boyfriend,” he sneered, nodding to the guard by the door. “Took him long enough. Guess you’re not as important to him as you thought.”

“No, he just knows I can hold my own,” you snapped back. You couldn’t lie; you felt excitement at the prospect of Bucky finally arriving, not because you were scared, but because this had lasted much longer than anticipated and all you wanted to do was take a bubble bath with a bottle of Rosé and fall asleep in Bucky’s secure hold.

Charles studied you for a moment. “You’re really not worth all the money I’m askin’ for, sweetheart,” he said, scanning your body shamelessly. “Barnes can do better. But hey, I’m not complainin’. S’long as I get my cash, I don’t care that he’s outta your league.”

You stared back, eyes narrowing. “Your momma raised you better than that, Mr. Blackwood.”

Charles was about to reply when a dozen gunshots were heard from outside your room. His eyes widened a fraction, his gaze sweeping as he fingered the gun in his holster. “He’s here,” Charles said to the guard. “He must’ve gotten through the other men outside. Aim to shoot.”

You’d be lying if you said that his words didn’t spark some concern in you. Bucky was at the disadvantage here; he would be knocking down the door with an armed shooter behind it. You had to remind yourself that he’d been in far more dangerous situations than this one, though, and that he was more than capable of taking on two puny men.

“We don’t got all day, Barnes!” Charles shouted, the veins in his neck protruding as he waved his gun around carelessly. “Got your girl in here. She’s sitting here real pretty lookin’. Better act quick.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said I… what was it?” you cocked your head, feigning confusion,“‘wasn’t worth it’?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

Two loud pops right outside the door had both you and Charles flinching. You could see his knuckles turning white from his death grip on his gun. “That’s not going to save you,” you mocked, eyeing his weapon.

“Shut the fuck up,” spat Charles. “I’ll fucking kill you before I let him screw me over again.”

You laughed out loud at that. “Your biggest concern is that he won’t give you the money?”

Charles eyed you, his body rigid.

“Let me tell you something,” you said, a small smile creeping its way onto your face. “You’re not going to get any money today. You’re also not going to walk out of here alive. I’m pretty forgiving, but unfortunately for you, James is not. And you took me away from him. The best you can hope for is a quick shot to the head. Painless and fast.”

You gauged Charles’ reaction, enjoying the way his face contorted in fear. He quickly attempted to hide it.

“But I don’t think that’s how James will handle you.”

Your eyes flew to the metal door as it was caved in, a large dent in the size of a fist protruding from it. The guard next to the door aimed his gun, but he was too slow.

Bucky kicked the door down, taking the guard with it. A sickening crunch told you that he wasn’t getting up anytime soon. Bucky stood in the shattered frame, his suit perfect save some blood splatters on his neck and down his collar. His gaze was on you first, relief and adoration filling his eyes as he took in your disheveled frame. He moved quickly, crouching down and cupping your face in his enormous hands.

“Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “I can handle it.”

“My sweet printsessa. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

You shook your head again. “This isn’t your fault, Bucky.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead as his hands began to untie the restraints on your wrists and feet. As soon as you were free, he pulled back, cradling your face once again.

All of that relief in his eyes vanished, however, when his eyes fell to the small bruise on your cheek. He looked to your captor, who fumbled with his gun beside you.

“You know, I gotta say,” Bucky’s voice was eerily calm. He stood, keeping a gentle hand on your face. “I’m impressed.”

Suddenly, he brought his left hand up and pulled out a concealed handgun. He shot Charles in the wrist, whose gun clattered to the floor. You were quick to kick it out of reach. Charles wailed, holding his bloody hand as he backed up.

“I’m impressed,” Bucky continued, slowly approaching Charles, “that you had the guts to put your hands on my girl.” He cocked his head, studying the man in front of him. “But now that I see you up close and personal, shaking and shivering like a lost puppy, I’m leaning more towards stupidity. Yeah, that’s what it is. You’re not brave. You’re just really, really fucking stupid.”

You turned your head, watching as Bucky backed the man up against the wall without a single push. Charles was literally whimpering, cradling his shot wrist.

“I didn’t… I didn’t do anything to her,” he mumbled. His shaking voice was far different than it was when he spoke to you. Sexist men and their stupid egos, you thought.

“Oh, so you weren’t the one who put that bruise on her face?” Bucky questioned. “You weren’t the one who hurt my girl?”

“N-no,” Charles whispered.

“I gotta say,” Bucky said, clicking his tongue. “I just don’t believe ya. Do you wanna know why?” The question was obviously rhetorical, but Charles nodded in submission. “Because,” Bucky continued, “the bruises on your knuckles tell a different story.”

With that, Bucky landed a deep punch into Charles’ face. Charles spluttered, dropping to his knees as held onto his cheek.

You snorted at that. “Damn right.”

“My girl takes a hit better than you,” Bucky stated.

“Charles,” said Bucky, who crouched to the ground to be eye-level with his victim. “I was raised in a time where everybody knew not to hit a girl. You know what would happen if we did?” Again, Charles shook his head.

“We’d get a slap on our hand. Sometimes by a stick, sometimes a paddle. But since you left a mark on her pretty lil’ face, I’ll have to leave one on you, too. I’m going to cut off your hand, Charles,” Bucky said sweetly, a smile on his face.

Your eyebrows raised. You had never seen Bucky so hostile; usually, he’d simply shoot people and get on with his day. But since this was you, you began to understand, he didn’t need a solution. He needed vengeance.

Charles couldn’t even form sentences at this point. He was a blubbering mess, shielding his face from Bucky as he loomed above him.

“Steve,” Bucky called, not taking his eyes off of Charles. “Bring me my knife.”

Bucky’s second in command waltzed in the room, sending you a kind smile as he placed a ridiculously sharp knife in Bucky’s opened palm.

Bucky thanked him, and Steve walked back out of the room, leaving the three of you alone once again.

Bucky turned to you, the hatred in his face melting into tenderness as he met your eyes. “Oh, dorogoy, you do not have to stay for this. Wait in the car with Steve, if you would like. I’ll be out there with you soon.”

You shook your head. “I can stay.”

Bucky nodded. “As you wish.” With that, he turned back to Charles, flipping the knife in his hands.

You felt heat pool in your belly as you watched his talented fingers handle such a deadly object with grace. It reminded you of how he treated you; his hands, the same hands that were capable of such destruction and violence, only ever touched you with a certain fragility and softness. As if he were afraid to break you.

“You’re going to want to close your eyes,” said Bucky, crouching down to where Charles sat slumped against the wall. “It’ll hurt worse if you watch.”

Bucky yanked Charles’ wrist out, blood already seeping from the previous gunshot. Charles began to plead, begging Bucky to spare him, but Bucky only huffed out a laugh and placed the blade on his skin.

You looked away; gore always made you feel nauseous. You knew Bucky had done it when a blood-curdling scream was ripped from Charles’ chest, reverberating throughout the cell. You were positive that Steve and the rest of Bucky’s men could hear it from outside of the compound.

You glanced back, and Bucky was already on his feet, moving towards you. His enormous frame blocked your view, which you were partly grateful for. Bucky stopped inches in front of you, using his flesh hand to gently maneuver your face to peer up at him.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asked, looking deeply into your eyes.

“What about…” you trailed off, motioning to the figure behind Bucky.

“Steve will take care of him. I have you now, dorogoy, and that’s all that I’ve ever needed.” He ducked his head down, pressing his lips against yours in a skin-heating kiss. Your chest burst with warmth at the familiar feeling of him pressing against you, enveloping you completely into him. “No one will ever take you from me again. Not as long as I’m breathing.”

It was ironic, you thought - here you were, in the middle of an enemy’s compound, a severed hand and a bloodied man mere feet away from you, but you felt safer than ever. “I know, my love,” you whispered. “I know.”

Bucky grabbed your hand. He offered to carry you out of the compound, and when you refused, he gave you his best puppy-dog eyes so you quickly gave in and let him scoop you into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all.

You shielded the sun from your eyes when he stepped out into the daylight. Several black SUVs were parked in a row, with dozens of Bucky’s men standing at attention. Steve stood in front of all of them, speaking lowly into his phone. When he spotted you and Bucky, he shoved it into his pocket and walked briskly towards you.

“Is she hurt?” He asked, scanning you frantically for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

You rolled your eyes, practically falling out of Bucky’s arms to stand. “I’m fine. He just insists on carrying me everywhere we go as if I don’t have legs.”

Bucky chuckled behind you, looping his metal arm around your stomach and pulling you back against his chest. “Get used to it, doll. You aren’t leaving my sight for the rest of your life.”

Steve smiled, silently escorting the two of you into the first car. “If Bucky had it his way, you’d never take a step outside again,” Steve whispered into your ear, soft enough for only you to hear.

“Too bad for him,” you joked, sending Steve a nod of thanks as he helped you into the car and hopped into the driver’s seat. Bucky pulled you into his lap, which wasn’t unusual, but his grip was certainly tighter than normal.

“You will never be hurt again ,” he whispered, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Promise you, milashka. Never again.”

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since january and i was getting tired of looking at it so here ya go

congrats on 1k!!

your lips, my lips. apocalypse📼: send a nsfw or sfw thought with a __!character

sub!theo nott because there’s not enough appreciation for it😩 sfw or nsfw:))

again congrats! your blog is amazing💓

omgggg thank you 😭😭😭😭 AHSHSHSH SHUSH

“what’s wrong pretty boy?” you asked as theo squirmed behind you. “nothing- nothing” he whimpered, you smirked feeling him slightly grind against you and you’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t your intention to get him all riled up and needy, moving your body in a way that would brush against him in a sickly good way.

theo bit his lip harshly, you leaned up and he almost whined out loud.

you tossed your book somewhere you honestly didn’t care about, turning to theo and looking down at his bulge. “want me to help you?” you asked moving your hand to his bulge, theo nodded and his hand subconsciously moved up and down his thighs slowly. “use your words pretty boy” you said and unzipped his pants.

“please help me cum” theo begged, his face flushed pink and breathing starting to pick up pace as you hand slid into his underwear, now touching him. “poor thing, need to cum so bad huh?” you asked teasingly, theo hummed in agreement and nodded frantically. letting his eyes close as you pulled his cock out of the restraints of his clothing.

Aged to Perfection

Pairing: dbf!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been your dad's best friend for years. He remembered when you were a little kid, he was there for your high school graduation, watched you go to college, and now he's coming to your college graduation with your parents...but for the first time, he's looking at you differently.

Warnings: SMUT. Age gap (Bucky is 38, Reader is 23). Unprotected sex (P in V), oral (M and F receiving). Use of pet names. Swearing.

A/N: I am an absolute slut for dbf!bucky.

Your dad met Bucky Barnes when you were just a little kid and the two became fast friends, despite the age difference between them. Bucky was about 10 years younger than your dad, making him about 15 years older than you.

From the moment you hit puberty, you thought Bucky was attractive. Most girls would. Plus, he was funny and sweet, always making sure to talk to you at family gatherings.

Bucky's been there for a lot of the big things in your life. He watched you grow up, graduate high school, and go off to college. He'd barely seen you in the last four years as you'd chosen to go to college out of state. Now he was here on campus with your parents for your college graduation.

Neither you, nor Bucky were at all prepared for the chemistry you both felt when you met your parents and him before graduation. You wanted to make sure they knew where to go and get good seats.

"Hey mom!" you called when you saw your mom's happy expression.

Your parents ran over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug. "Guys, you're squishing me. Can't breathe."

Your parents stepped back and laughed. "I can't believe you're graduating college!" your dad exclaimed.

"Me neither, honestly."

"I don't know, doll, you always were the smart one in the family," Bucky said, coming into view from behind your dad.

The moment your eyes met, you felt like your breath had been sucked directly from your lungs. "Hey Bucky," you said in a tone you hoped was completely normal.

He stepped forward and wrapped you in a hug. Your skin felt like it was on fire where he'd touched you, but you did your best to keep a neutral expression. "It's good to see you," he said with a warm smile.

"It's good to see you too." You turned your attention back to your parents. "You guys should get into the auditorium and find some good seats before it fills up."

"Yes! I want to sit in the front," your mom said, grabbing your dad's arm and dragging him with her. "I'm so proud of you, baby!"

"Thanks mom!"

Your dad turned around, "Come on Buck or you'll get left behind."

Bucky laughed. "Apparently your mom is in a rush."

"Well you only get to see your only child graduate college once."

He smiled. "True. Can't wait to see you after." He shot you a wink and walked off after your parents, leaving you to stand there in shock.

Did Bucky Barnes just wink at me? You figured you were going crazy, so you shook it off and went to join your friends before lining up for graduation.

When you walked across the stage, you heard your parents and Bucky cheering. It made you smile and it really meant a lot that they were all there.

After the ceremony, you met up with them again. "You ready for dinner, kiddo?" your dad asked.

You smiled. "Absolutely. Let me say goodbye to some of my friends and I'll meet you out front."

"Sounds good!" your dad responded and your parents made their way to the front door.

"I'm going to use the restroom first," Bucky said before turning his attention to you. "Show me where the bathroom is?"

You nodded. "Sure."

Bucky walked with you to the nearest bathroom, appreciating the sway of your hips as you moved. "So how's what's his name?" Bucky asked not-too-subtly.

"His name is John, which you very well know. And for the record, he cheated on me...twice."

Bucky raised his eyebrow. "And he's still walking?"

You chuckled. "I decided graduating was a better option than spending the rest of my life in prison for homicide."

"I'm happy to shoot him for you."

"Bucky!"

He grinned. "What? I didn't say he'd die."

You laughed warmly for the first time. "You're a dork." You gestured behind you, "The bathroom is right there."

He stared at you for a moment, just soaking in your appearance. He took a step forward and leaned in close to you. "Thanks, doll." With that, he stepped around you and into the bathroom, once again leaving you in shock.

One of your friends came over to you and waved a hand in front of your face. "Uhh, (Y/N)? You in there?"

You shook your head. "Sorry! I was umm...lost in thought."

She looked at you skeptically. "So it had nothing to do with that hot guy that just walked into the bathroom?"

"No, that's just Bucky."

"THAT'S Bucky?! Why didn't you tell me he was so hot?"

"Shh. Keep your voice down. He's got weirdly acute hearing."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously though, he's gorgeous. When are you going to tap that?"

"Omg, I am not going to 'tap that'. He's my dad's best friend."

She shrugged. "What your dad doesn't know won't hurt him."

"You're terrible."

"And that's why you love me." She winked at you. "Ope, time to go. Love you, (Y/N/N)." She scurried off and you just laughed.

"Friend of yours?" Bucky asked.

You turned to face him. "Yeah. She's a wild one." You smiled. "Let's go meet my parents before dad gets hangry."

Bucky winced jokingly. "Your dad is actually terrifying when he's hungry."

"You're telling me."

The two of you walked to the front in companionable silence. You did your best to keep a cool, calm exterior, while on the inside you were absolutely freaking out. Bucky's proximity to you set your nerves on edge. Plus, you were pretty sure he'd been flirting with you all afternoon, which was definitely something new. But he was your dad's best friend, so there was absolutely no way he was interested in you...right?

"Uhh, doll? You with me?"

"Huh?" You turned your head to look at him.

He chuckled. "I asked where you wanted to have dinner."

You realized you were in front of the building, your parents and Bucky all staring at you waiting for a response. You hadn't even realized you'd made it outside. "Sorry! My mind was wandering. Umm...Outback?"

"Hell yeah," your dad said with a grin. "Blooming onion, here I come."

Your mom laughed and shook her head. "Dear god, your cholesterol."

"You only live once, right? That's what the kids say these days."

You groaned. "Well that makes you sound old."

Your dad laughed. "I am old."

"You're 50, dad. Not 80."

"Close enough. Come on, let's get a move on. I'm dying here."

You and Bucky follow your parents to their car. Bucky leans close to you and whispers, "Technically, he's 48."

You looked at him in confusion.

"Your dad. He's 48, not 50."

"Same thing."

"If you age him, you're aging me. I'm 10 years younger, remember?"

You actually hadn't remembered. You knew he was younger than your dad, but you weren't sure by how much. That made him 38 years old...which wasn't actually that much older than 23 if you think about it. "My apologies, Bucky. I don't want you to feel old," you said in a light mocking tone.

He laughed. "Don't be a brat, doll. Or I'll have to fix it."

Your eyebrows raised. "Fix it?"

He just grinned and opened the back door of your dad's SUV, gesturing for you to get in. When you started to climb into the backseat, he leaned forward. "I'll have to fuck it out of you," he whispered, lips brushing your ear.

You were shocked by his words and you turned to look at him, but he was already shutting the door and coming around to the other side of the car. You felt wetness pooling in your panties at his statement and you squeezed your thighs together, embarrassment creeping into your face.

Bucky noticed the way you squirmed in your seat when he got into the car and it made him smile. He wanted you to want him and he was pretty sure you did, if the pace of your breathing was any indication.

The car ride was relatively normal. Your parents chatted and Bucky joined in, but you were mostly silent. Words weren't coming to you easily at the moment and your mind was focused entirely on maintaining your composure.

When you got to the restaurant, you sat down in a booth and Bucky slid in beside you, your parents sat across from you. Thankfully your dad sat in front of you and your mom in front of Bucky. Your dad wasn't nearly as observant as your mom was.

Bucky's thigh brushed against yours under the table and you jumped slightly.

"You okay there, kid?" your dad asked.

"Yeah, just a little chilly."

"Here," Bucky said as he removed his jacket. "Put this on."

You allowed him to drape the jacket across your shoulders. "That's better, thanks."

"Of course." Bucky and your parents went back to their conversation, but Bucky's thigh remained pressed against yours. The proximity was overwhelming your senses. All you could see, hear, smell, and feel was Bucky.

Thankfully, the arrival of the server provided a momentary relief. Everyone ordered water, but when the server landed on you, you ordered your favorite alcoholic beverage. You handed the server your ID and ignored the surprised expressions on your parents' faces, as well as the smirk gracing Bucky's.

When the server left to get your drinks, your dad checked on you again. "Everything alright there, (Y/N/N)?"

"Yeah, I'm just celebrating," you lied smoothly.

Your dad just nodded, but your mom stared at you, scrutinizing your face. You must have been doing a good job at hiding what you were thinking, because she eventually smiled and went back to chatting with your dad.

Bucky leaned over to you and murmured, "I thought you didn't like to drink in front of your parents?"

"I'm going to need a drink to get through this," you mumbled back.

"Get through what?" he asked mockingly.

You raised your eyebrow at him and he grinned. You rolled your eyes and silently praised the swift return of the server with your drinks. You chugged half of it before setting the glass back on the table. Your parents looked at you in surprise, but kept their comments to themselves.

The server stayed to take your orders and by the time she walked away, you'd already finished your drink.

"You want another one, sweets?" Bucky asked lightly.

The expressions on your parents faces decided that for you. "No, I'm alright. I'll stick with water now." The alcohol was already having the desired effect. You felt a calmness wash over you and you suddenly weren't so anxious about Bucky's proximity.

You joined in on the conversation and everything seemed to be going just fine. That is, until your mom brought up John...again.

"Honey, how is John doing? Have you talked to him recently?"

"No, mom, I haven't. He's an ass."

"(Y/N)!" your mom exclaimed in surprise. "He was always so sweet."

"That's because you weren't dating him," you mumbled.

"I just don't understand why you would break up with him. He was perfect for you."

You felt Bucky's body tense beside you, but you fought the urge to glance at his face. It might be too revealing in the moment. "Well, mom, from an outside perspective that may have been the case. But he wasn't a good guy and I deserve better."

Your mom started to object again, but your dad gently cut her off. "Let it go, honey. (Y/N)'s an adult. She can make her own choices."

You smiled. "Thanks, dad."

The server returned to the table with your food. As she was setting plates in front of each of you, Bucky's hand landed on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked over at him and he looked at you with a soft expression. "You okay, sweets?"

You offered him a soft smile. "Yeah, Buck. I'm alright. Mom's just a big fan of John."

"Did you mention why you broke up?"

You shook your head. "She would have blamed me."

Bucky's expression lit up in surprise. He wasn't able to question you more as the server was walking away, taking the distraction with her.

The four of you ate your food in companionable silence, simply enjoying each other's company. Once the meal was finished, you all got ready to leave. You wanted to get back to your apartment and just crash.

"Honey, we have to stop at the auditorium. Bucky left his car there," your mom said.

"Okay, that's fine."

"Since you two have a farther drive than me, how about I drop (Y/N) off at her apartment?" Bucky suggested casually.

Your body tensed and you felt the heat rise in your face. Please say yes, you thought to yourself.

"Well I suppose that would be fine. Are you okay with that, sweetheart?" your dad asked.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine with it." You tried not to sound excited, but you couldn't help but smile a little.

The smile wasn't lost on Bucky. He leaned over to you and whispered, "I saw that."

You turned to him and winked...the alcohol in your system making you feel bold.

Surprise lit up his handsome face, quickly followed by a wolfish grin.

It felt like forever before you arrived at the auditorium. You and Bucky said goodbye to your parents and watched as they drove away.

"Come on, doll. Your chariot awaits."

You chuckled. "Cute."

"Yes, I am," he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but followed Bucky to his car. He opened the passenger side door for you and helped you in. When he slid into his seat, you suddenly felt butterflies rise in your stomach. "Do you know where you're going?"

He smiled. "I remember, doll."

"That was like 2 years ago," you said in surprise.

"It's you. I remember everything that has to do with you."

You felt your heart rate quicken. You wanted to ask him if he was serious about what he'd said earlier, but you couldn't find the words. Thankfully, Bucky took control of the conversation. "So why didn't you tell your parents about John cheating on you?"

You sighed. "Mom's a little old-fashioned sometimes. She thinks that if a woman gets cheated on, it's the woman's fault. She must have done something to deserve it."

"What?" Bucky looked angry. "I'm absolutely certain you didn't do a damn thing to deserve being treated that way."

You gently touched his arm and his expression softened. "I appreciate that and I know I deserve better now. It just took me a little while to figure it out."

"You deserve the world, (Y/N)," Bucky said softly.

Your breath caught in your chest at his words. It gave you the bravery to voice your question. "So what you said earlier...did you mean it?"

Bucky glanced at you with a smirk. "When?"

"You know," you said with a groan.

He grinned. "I can't seem to remember..."

"Bucky!" you whined.

"You've gotta use those words, sweets."

You groaned again. "You can use your words," you grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"There's the brat again."

"Still wanna fuck it out of me?"

Surprise crossed both of your faces. You couldn't believe you'd actually said that out loud and he couldn't believe you had either. "Do you want me to?" he asked quietly.

By this point, your panties were practically soaked. You'd been thinking about him all evening and you desperately wanted to touch him. "Please," you whispered.

Bucky groaned and his body visibly tensed. "I gotta say, doll. I never thought we'd be in this position."

"Neither did I."

"Ever since you went to college, I've been imagining what it be like to be with you. You've always been funny and smart, but you've grown into an absolutely beautiful woman, (Y/N)."

The sincerity in his voice warmed your heart. "You have?"

"Of course I have," he cleared his throat. "Have you ever, you know, thought of me?"

You stayed silent for a moment. You'd been dreaming about Bucky Barnes since middle school. The man was gorgeous, there was no denying it. Plus, he was the sweetest person you'd ever known. "Since I was a kid," you murmured honestly.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

You rolled your eyes. "Look in the mirror, Barnes."

He laughed as he pulled into your complex. "So you're telling me you've been dreaming about me for years?"

"Oh my god, Bucky. Shut up," you said with a laugh.

He grinned. "Hey, sweets, I'm not mad about it." He parked the car. "You're home...safe and sound."

Suddenly everything began to feel more real. Bucky must have noticed the panic on your face because he reached out and gently touched your hand. "Hey...we don't have to do this. I can just drop you off and head home. No hard feelings."

The weak part of you...or maybe it was the scared part...wanted to thank him for the ride and just go upstairs alone. But the majority of you was dying to have this man's head between your legs. "Will you come upstairs with me, Bucky?" you asked.

He groaned slightly. "It would be my pleasure."

"I'm hoping it will be mine," you said lightly.

He laughed and his eyes darkened. "Oh doll, it absolutely will be."

You grinned and got out of the car. Bucky quickly followed you up the stairs and into your apartment. The moment you entered the apartment, Bucky shut the door and pressed your body against it, kissing you with a deep kind of passion you'd never felt before. "Bucky," you gasped when his lips left yours.

"Yes, sweets?"

"Is this--I mean--do you just want to have sex? I just want to know now so I know what I'm getting into and I--"

He cut off your rambling with a soft kiss. "Doll, I adore you. Every damn thing about you. I have for years. It's wrong, I know it is, but I want more. I want all of you, every part. But if you only want sex, I underst--"

You pressed your finger against his lips. "Stop right there. I want more," you whispered.

Bucky groaned and pressed his forehead against yours. "Say that again, doll."

"I want you, Bucky. All of you."

"Fuck," he whispered. He pressed his hard body against your soft one and kissed you like you were his life support. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair and he moaned against your lips. He slipped his hands under your ass and lifted slightly. "Jump, pretty girl." You did as he asked and wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to your bed and laid you down gently.

"You gonna take my clothes off or are we just going to kiss for hours?" you asked sassily.

"There's that brat again. You're really asking for a good fuck, aren't you doll?"

"Are you just gonna talk about it or are you gonna do it?" Where the hell is this confidence coming from?

Bucky's normally crystal blue eyes darkened. "Doll, you're moving into dangerous territory here. I'm not one of those little college boys you're used to."

You sat up and touched his chest lightly. "No, you're a man and I expect you to show me what you can do."

Bucky grinned. "Oh doll, you're in for a treat." He stood up and started to strip. Your mouth watered as you watched him. His body was sculpted, every inch covered in thick muscles that you were dying to run your hands over.

He quickly shed his pants, followed by his boxers, leaving him completely naked in front of you. You stared in silence for a moment, causing him to chuckle. "Like what you see?"

You gulped. "You--you're...huge."

He laughed at your wide-eyed expression. "Bigger than you're used to?"

You nodded, worry etched onto your pretty features.

"Don't worry, sweets. I'll take good care of you. I promise to be gentle."

"I don't necessarily want you to be gentle..."

"Oh?" he asked as he crawled back on top of you. "So you like it a little rough?" he asked teasingly.

You nodded.

"Use those words, sweets."

"Yes, Bucky."

He grinned. "That's a good girl."

You let out an involuntary moan that made him grin. "You've got a praise kink, don't ya sweets? You wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Yes, Bucky, please."

"Okay, sweets. Why don't you take that dress off for me?" He sat back so you could sit up and remove it. Once you'd discarded the dress, he leaned forward to help you remove your bra and panties. The moment you were naked, he sat back again to take in your body.

He was silent for several moments and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You knew you'd gained weight during college, so you were a little worried that he wasn't attracted to your naked form. You started to cover your midsection with your arms and hands, but Bucky stopped you, holding your hands at your sides. "Don't. I'm trying to admire perfection."

You let out a little gasp at his words. You felt a warmth spread all over your body and couldn't breathe for a moment. No guy had ever said that to you. Hell, the last one told you he'd cheated because you'd 'gotten fat'.

Bucky noticed the look on your face. "Hey, where's that pretty little head at?"

You tried to smile. "It's nothing."

He held your chin and tilted it up so you met his eyes. "Don't do that with me, sweets. What's wrong?"

You sighed. "I've been pretty confident my whole life, but college was a little tough at times. I, uh--I put on some weight and I'm a little self-conscious of it. John even said that he cheated on me because I'd gotten fat."

Bucky's eyes flashed with anger. "He said what?"

You looked down, but Bucky held your face firmly.

"That asshole isn't worth a damn, (Y/N). Your body is absolutely perfect, just like the rest of you. I happen to like a little softness to my women."

"Oh?" you asked in surprise.

He leaned forward to give you a kiss and squeezed the flesh on your hips. "This is the sexiest damn thing in the world, sweets. I wanna worship every inch of this perfect body."

The praise went straight to your core. "Well I'm not going to stop you," you said sassily.

He chuckled lightly. "There's my girl."

My girl? Your body shuddered in response. You didn't realize how badly you wanted to be his girl until that moment.

Bucky noticed your reaction and he grinned. "You like that, doll? You wanna be my girl?"

"So damn badly, Buck."

He groaned and rutted against your bare core. "I'm going to absolutely ruin you, doll."

"You talk a big game, James, but why don't you show me."

"Fuck," he groaned as his fingers dug into your flesh. "I love the way you say my name."

You grinned. "James," you moaned.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. "By the end of this, you're going to be screaming my name." He kissed you passionately and your fingers dug into his hair. "Doll, I'm going to need you to sit on my face."

"What?" you asked in surprise.

"I wanna taste this sweet pussy and feel your thick thighs squeezing my head while you ride my mouth."

No one had ever asked you to do that before. You weren't even sure what the logistics of that were. "I've never done that," you admitted softly.

Bucky looked surprised. He laid down on his back and reached for you. "Come here, sweets. I'll guide you."

You climbed up on top of him and he slid down a bit so you were hovering over his head. He gripped your hips and lowered you down slightly.

"Relax, doll. I've got you."

"What if I smother you?"

"Then I will die I happy man."

You smacked his arm. "Bucky, I'm serious."

"So am I. Just trust me."

You nodded and took a deep breath. Bucky dug his fingers into your hips and tugged you down onto his mouth. He let out a groan before licking your pussy. "Fuck, doll, you taste good." He wrapped his arms around your legs and held you down.

Each swipe of his tongue sent waves of pleasure through your body. You had never in your life had a man eat you out like this. He ate you out like he was absolutely starving and you were an all-you-can-eat buffet. You were certain your neighbors could hear your moans, but you couldn't be bothered to care. "Bucky, please don't stop."

Bucky sped up his movements and helped guide your hips back and forth, effectively grinding you against his face. You gasped in pleasure and clung to your headboard for support.

Your moans began to increase in both volume and frequency, letting Bucky know you were close. He dug his fingers into you and he sucked your clit into his mouth, letting out a moan that sent vibrations of pleasure through you.

"Bucky!" you cried out as your orgasm exploded through you. It felt absolutely incredible, unlike anything you'd ever felt in your life. The pleasure soon became unbearable and you tried to remove yourself from his mouth. "Buck, too much. Please."

He was still holding you in his iron grip and he groaned against you. "But..." You tugged on his hair and tried to move again. He finally let you go and you collapsed beside him.

"That was incredible," you mumbled, still breathless.

Bucky wiped his mouth and licked his lips. "You tasted incredible."

You laughed lightly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He grinned. "I'd like a little more, actually." He moved on top of you and tried to go down on you again, but you grabbed his hands and pulled him towards you.

"No more, James, please."

He groaned. "It's hard to resist, especially when you say my name like that."

You grinned. "I can think of something else to do that I think you'll like just as much."

"Oh yeah?" he asked teasingly.

You bit your lip and ran your hands down his body. You loved the feel of his tight muscles under your fingers. When you reached his lower body, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock. You started to stroke him gently and his body immediately reacted to your touch.

Bucky started to breathe a little more heavily and he let out a breathy moan when you ran your finger across his slit, collecting the precum that had beaded there. You lifted your hand to your mouth and licked the precum off your finger with a moan. "Delicious."

He groaned and rolled his eyes back. "Fuck, doll."

"I wanna suck your cock, Bucky. So badly."

His eyes widened slightly at your words. "I won't say no."

You grinned and pushed him back. "Stand up."

He did as you asked and you dropped to your knees in front of him. You licked your lips and took his cock into your hands, guiding it slowly into your mouth.

Bucky moaned and gripped your hair tightly as you took him as deeply as you could. You gagged slightly, but you kept sucking him and stroking what you couldn't fit into your mouth. He loved the way your mouth felt and he was desperate to fill that pretty mouth of yours with his cum.

You loved the way his cock felt in your mouth, so thick and heavy. You moaned around him, the vibrations making his body shake with pleasure. You grabbed his hips and started to move them back and forth slightly, hoping he would get the hint.

Bucky looked down at you and he murmured, "You want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, sweets?"

You groaned loudly and nodded your head as best as you could.

He smiled at you and gripped your head tightly. He began to thrust his hips slowly, but your moans encouraged him to speed up. "Shit. Doll, you feel so good."

He thrust a little deeper, causing you to gag. He looked down at you to check if you were okay and the look of your tear-filled eyes and his cock in your mouth was absolutely the greatest image he'd ever seen. You were loving every second of this and that only added to his pleasure.

He started to moan louder and his thrusts were a little weaker. "I'm so close, doll. Gonna cum in that pretty mouth."

You moaned around his cock and it was all he needed to push him over the edge. He came with a gasp of your name and you swallowed every drop of his cum. He pulled out of your mouth and collapsed on the bed. "Come here, doll."

You climbed onto the bed beside him and he wrapped his arms around you. "Just need a minute. That was amazing."

You smiled at him and kissed his chest. "Getting tired, old man?"

"Old man?" He flipped you onto your back and kissed you deeply. "I'm going to make you cum so many times you won't be able to walk for a week."

You grinned. "I can't wait." You pulled him down to you and kissed him passionately.

You heard loud ringing coming from your purse on the other side of the room. It was the ringtone you'd set for your dad's phone. "Shit. It's my dad."

Bucky grinned. "Go ahead and answer it, doll. He'll be worried if you don't."

You groaned and went across the room to grab your phone. You came back to the bed and sat down before answering it. "Hey dad."

"Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

You felt Bucky come up behind you, lips caressing your neck. "Yeah, Bucky got me home safely."

"Good, good. I'm so proud of you, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, dad." Your voice was a little shaky as Bucky's lips trailed down to your shoulders and his hands gently massaged your breasts.

You'd hoped your dad didn't notice, but you weren't quite so lucky. "You okay, kiddo?"

Bucky rolled your nipples in his fingers and you bit your lip to hold back a moan. "Mhmm."

"You sure? You sound a little strange."

You glared at Bucky and he bit your shoulder in response. You groaned and smacked him lightly. "Yeah, I'm just tired and I uh, stubbed my toe."

Bucky laughed soundlessly and you elbowed him lightly. He kissed your neck again and you leaned back against him.

"Okay, (Y/N/N). Get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too, dad."

The moment you hung up, Bucky flipped you over and pressed kisses to your breasts. He took his time showing each of your breasts attention.

"Bucky," you moaned softly. "You almost got us caught."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked cockily.

"Never."

He chuckled and went back to what he was doing, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and giving it a little nibble. You moaned and your hips bucked up against him, pulling a moan from his throat.

"I want you so badly, Bucky."

"Yeah, doll? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Hmmm..." he nipped at your neck and ground his hips against you. "I'm not sure you're ready for me."

"Bucky," you whined. "But I've been such a good girl."

He groaned. "Yes you have, sweets. So good for me. I guess you do deserve a reward."

You grinned and pulled him towards you for a kiss. You lifted your hips up to brush against him and he grinned against your lips. "So eager." He brushed his hand up against your core and collected some of your slick. He slid a finger into his mouth and let out a low groan. "Is this for me, sweet girl?"

"All for you, Bucky."

He gripped your hips and lined his cock up with your entrance. "You ready, doll?"

You took a deep breath and nodded.

He noticed your worried expression and offered you a soft smile. "Do you want me to go slow?"

You shook your head. "I want you now."

Bucky tightened his grip on your hips and plunged into you with one thrust. You cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure. You dug your nails into his back and he allowed you a moment to adjust.

"Please move, Bucky. I'm ready."

He nodded and placed his hands on either side of your head, caging your body beneath his. Without warning, he set an absolutely brutal pace. "Fuck, doll, you feel so good. This pussy was made for me."

You moaned and clutched his biceps for support. You could hardly breathe, let alone think.

"You take me so well, sweets."

"Bucky," you moaned. "Feels so good."

He kissed your forehead and quickened his pace. "I could stay here forever." He angled his hips to drive even deeper into you.

With the new angle, he hit your sweet spot with each thrust, sending you so close to the edge. "Bucky, don't stop."

"Oh don't you worry, sweets. I won't." Bucky kept the brutal pace and you quickly tumbled over the edge, crying out in pleasure as you came. True to his word, Bucky didn't stop. He continued to thrust into you, building your pleasure up once again.

Your brain couldn't formulate words; the pleasure was too overwhelming. You clung to Bucky like he was the only thing keeping you tied to Earth.

"You gonna cum for me again, doll?" You just moaned in response, earning a light chuckle from Bucky. He leaned down to you and kissed your lips. His hips never faltered as he whispered, "Cum for me, (Y/N)."

Within moments, you cried out in pleasure for the third time that night. Your orgasm washed over you in waves. Bucky continued his movements, now chasing his own high.

Bucky's body began to tremble slightly and his thrusts became less steady. "Fuck, doll. I'm close."

You touched his face and murmured, "Fill me up, Bucky. I wanna feel your cum inside me."

Your words were the last thing Bucky needed to send his body into overdrive. He came with a cry of your name and filled your pussy with his seed.

As he came down from his high, he pulled out and laid down beside you for a moment. "That was fucking incredible."

You laughed lightly. "I'd have to agree."

He turned to face you. "So you think it's an improvement from the last guy?"

You turned your head to look at him. "Buck, you're lightyears away from every man I've ever been with."

He grinned and kissed you gently. "That's what I like to hear. I'll be right back." He got out of the bed and came back a few moments later with a warm wet towel. He cleaned you up before crawling back into the bed with you.

You curled up against him and laid your head on his shoulder. "Bucky, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, doll."

"I know we kinda talked about it, but I just want to make sure. Was this just a one-night stand kind of situation?"

He held you a little tighter. "I'd really like this to be a more long-term thing."

You looked up at him. "Like...dating?"

He sensed the nervousness in your voice and he placed a kiss to the top of your head. "Yeah, doll. Like dating."

Your body relaxed and you leaned into him again. "Good because you have definitely ruined me for all other men."

He laughed. "I told you I would." He paused for a moment. "What the hell are we gonna tell your dad?"

"Oh I'm definitely not gonna be the one to do that," you said with a chuckle.

"Why not?! He's less likely to kill you."

You smiled and placed a kiss against his chest. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Bucky. For now, let's just be happy together."

He squeezed you tight. "Alright, doll. You make me happier than I've been in years."

"You too, Buck," you said as you yawned.

He kissed your head again and murmured. "Goodnight, sweets."

"Night, Bucky."

All It Takes Is A Shot

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: sexual tension, sexual situation due to a couples game, friends catching feelings, teasing, no smut, but it might as well be, Chris definitely has blue balls by the end of the round.

“You two are not going to win, Evans,” I smiled, looking at my best friend. Chris nodded and picked up the next card as I pointed at Scott and Steve, continuing to trash talk the couple. Chris gave me a smirk and grabbed two of the plastic shot glasses, shooting me a wink. I felt my heart begin to race, and I looked away from him, “what’s the card say, anyways?”

He playfully flicked the card at me, it’s glossy surface glinting off the lighting. My breath hitched in my throat as I read it.

‘Take a sexy tequila shot off your partner. If playing in couples, both you and your partner take the challenge. Use the eliminated competitors to judge. If they say it’s not sexy enough, you are eliminated. If no one has been eliminated, all competitors will judge.’

Scott and his boyfriend looked at me and began giggling as they too, read the card. I shook my head, “no way. No. Chris!”

“Are you really gonna let Scott and Steve beat us?” he asked, grabbing two slices of lime. He set them on the counter beside me, and reached for the saltshaker, “over a shot?”

“Damn,” I growled, my competitiveness getting the best of me. With a sigh, I made my way over to his side of the island. Scarlet and her husband had already tapped out, as well as Chris and Robert and their spouses. We were the only two pairs left. Chris looked at me, and I rolled my eyes, “you want to go first?”

“Take your shirt off.”

My eyes nearly bulged at the request, “excuse me?”

“It’s a sexy shot, right?” he asked. I blushed as the other couples were laughing at the response I had to his request, “come on. I’ll put the shot between your boobs, and the lime beneath it. And the salt on your neck.”

“Oh, that’s sexy!” Scarlet laughed tipsily. Her husband Colin agreed, and Chris smiled.

“See!”

I sighed, and unbuttoned my blouse, sliding it down off my shoulders, “you’re lucky you’re my best friend.”

He smirked, and one hand wrapped around my waist as the other slid up my shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly, before I felt his hand slide around the back of my neck. He gently pulled at the hairs at the back of my neck, tilting my head to the side, as I held back a moan.

My thighs clenched together and my eyes glared into his momentarily before they hooded as he pulled my hair a little more. Stifling the second moan was harder as I felt his thick, wet tongue lick a stripe up my neck. I shivered as the cool air hit it and when he backed away, I kept my neck bared, feeling the salt shaker release some grains onto my throat.

When I turned to look at him once again, he slipped the lime wedge right along the bottom ridge of my bra, between my breasts, and sat the shot glass on top of it, my breasts holding it in place.

“Don’t forget,” Hemsworth cheered, “no hands, Chris!”

I blushed, looking back to my best friend, suddenly regretting my decision to play in the sexy couple’s game that he’d set up for the night. But he just laughed, linking both of his hands on the small of my back so that everyone could see he wasn’t using them. I leaned back slightly, feeling the edge of the counter behind me, and he closed me in, pressing his taut form against mine.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. I nodded and he kissed the tip of my nose, “good girl.”

I squirmed, feeling myself getting worked up from the two simple words.

Good girl.

I wanted to jump up and latch onto him. But I closed my eyes and held back, waiting for it to be over.

You can’t have feelings for your best friend.

You CAN NOT have feelings for Christopher Robert Evans.

HE IS OFF LIMITS!

He is o-oh god!

My mind ceased to function as I felt his tongue slowly lave over the swell of my breasts before trailing up the column of my throat, catching the line of salt. I felt his cock twitch against my hip as he continued his trail all the way to the edge of my jaw, and then dipped his head, his lips ghosting back over the swell of my breasts as he picked up the shot glass with his mouth and slowly tilted his head back.

His eyes never left mine as he deposited the plastic shot glass away from the two of us by simply spitting it to the side. And then his face dipped back down, getting lost between my breasts. My thighs clenched again, and my breath caught in my throat as my aching core fluttering around nothing. As his beard scratched my chest, his teeth began nipping lightly and his mouth started sucking on the swell of my d-cups.

He came back up a second later, empty handed, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that he had no intention of ever getting the lime. He just wanted the excuse to touch me. I bit my lip as the couples around us joked that he couldn’t get the lime.

“It was sexy until you couldn’t get it,” Robert laughed, putting a thumbs down to the two of you. Scarlet and Colin gave the two of you a thumbs up, and Hemsworth and his wife gave the two of you a thumbs down, agreeing with Downey and his spouse. To which he looked at me, “looks like you gotta save yourself and Evans, kiddo.”

I groaned, frustrated and turned on by the experience, yet knowing that there was nothing I could really do. But that damned devious glint in his eye made me want to get back at him.

“Take off your shirt and sit down on the chair.”

This time his eyes widened, “what?”

“You heard me,” I said swiftly, acting as though I had my game face on for the card game, and not to torture the ever-loving hell out of him for what he’d just done by leaving me turned on with no relief. I felt his cock twitch against me again, and a blush rose to his cheeks, “go sit down, Chris, and take your shirt off.”

The other couples cat called him as he followed my instructions, but instead of going to grab a dining room chair he went to the living room and sat on the couch. I rolled my eyes and followed him out with the shot glass, the salt shaker, and the lime.

“Okay, what now?”

“Part your thighs a little and open your mouth!”

He swallowed, looking a little nervous now, “w-what?”

“Come on, Evans, don’t be a baby,” Scarlet encouraged, “do what the woman says.”

“You trust me, right?”

The glint in his eye disappeared, and I knew that while he was nervous about what he knew I was going to do, he thought that it was just about the game, “o-of course I do.”

“Then do it.” He nodded, and parted his thighs and opened his mouth. I put the shot glass between his thick thighs, and closed them, making sure the top of it just peaked over them. Then I put the lime wedge in his mouth, his teeth holding onto the rind. A blush rose to his cheeks as I dropped to my knees in front of him.

A few of the guys chuckled, and Scarlet and Chris’ wife whistled and cat-called. He blushed as I put a hand on his outer thigh, and dipped my finger into the tequila, dragging a line down his happy trail. His eyes widened as he watched me.

“Don’t forget,” Scott laughed, a giggle coming from him and his boyfriend, “no hands!”

I rolled my eyes, and then dropped the salt to the side after creating a line on him. Leaning forward, I pushed him back against the cushions, and tilted my head to the side, licking the line of his jeans, before sliding my tongue slowly up his happy trail, collecting the salt, and then flicking my tongue over his belly button.

I felt his abs tighten beneath my tongue, and I watched as his eyes closed, a heavy exhale escaping his nostrils. I smirked, giving the side of his thigh a little squeeze as I dipped my own head back between his thighs, and grabbed the shot glass between my lips. I threw my head back, the bitter harsh liquor stinging my throat as it went down.

His eyes had opened again, and I could see the noticeable bulge in his pants. I slowly climbed on top of his lap, resting my core against the bulge straining against his jeans, and I dipped my head, dropping the plastic shot glass between my breasts. He watched me, the lime still in his mouth, and he swallowed.

I watched his adam’s apple bob for a second, and the look of realization crossed his features. His eyes broke away from mine and glanced down, as though he could look at the lime between his lips. I let my arms snake around his neck as I ground myself against him. He groaned, and I grabbed his hair, pulling it back so that I had access to the lime.

“Good boy!” I whispered softly, leaning in. I plucked the lime from his mouth and bit into it, the juices flowing between my lips and his as I pulled away, letting the tangy citrus into my mouth. Letting go of his hair, I leaned back, rolling my hips. I felt his hands slide to my hips and hold me on his lap as I dropped the lime into the plastic shot glass.

The room was quiet for a few moments, before it was Downey that spoke, “okay…that was hot. Thumbs up, kid. Thumbs. Up.”

Robert’s wife agreed with him, as did everyone else. Scott and Steve pouted at me as I got off Chris’ lap, and pulled the shot glass from between my bra. I shot Scott and his boyfriend a wink, “I think its your turn, boys. Go grab your card.”

“Holy shit!” I heard Chris mutter as I walked back into the kitchen.

Hey honey !! Sooooo I have a request 🙈 I was thinking about bff!Bucky being possessive . Bucky and reader act like they’re dating when they’re not . Neck kisses , handsy with each other , reader sitting on Bucky’s lap etc 🙈🙈

main masterlist || bucky masterlist

“What’s my bra size?” You asked as you turned your back to Bucky.

You expected him to move your shirt and look at the label in your bra but instead his hands snaked around your body and cupped your breasts, gently bouncing them up and down as his head tilted with concentration. You looked over your shoulder to see his lips pursed as he thought about it before letting go and shrugged.

“Wouldn’t have a clue, a nice handful?” He offered with a lopsided grin.

“You’re absolutely hopeless.” You huffed and pulled your shirt over your head before unclipping your bra and taking a look for yourself. “Stop staring you perv.”

“I’m a man and you have just put a beautiful pair of boobs in front of me.” He shook his head and continued to watch them as his eyes darkened. “You get off on taunting me.”

“Says the man that just fondled me.” You pointed out as you put your bra back on and grabbed your phone to order the right size. “Think this will look good?”

You held the photo up of the lace bra and he grabbed it, zooming in on the picture and seeing the pretty detail adorning it. “Whats the occasion?”

There was a suspicious note to his tone and you took your phone back with a frown. “I’m, um, going on a date.”

“You didn’t tell me that. I thought I was your best friend.” He pouted. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know him. And do you know why? Because you scare away everyone that comes near me.”

“You have a poor taste in men, I’m just looking out for you.” He said as he took a seat on your bed and pulled you down on his lap. “You’re my best girl, I don’t want you to end up with some asshole that will try keep you all to himself.”

“Of course.” You said with an eye roll. “Only you’re allowed to do that.”

“Exactly!” He chuckled and kissed your neck. “I’m the only one allowed to hold you like this and kiss you like this.”

His lips pressed to your neck and left a trail of light kisses across your skin and along your jaw line. You sighed as his hands came to rest on your hips and his thumbs made small circles, brushing up your shirt so he could feel your skin. Your own fingers curled his long hair around them and you felt his cock stirring beneath you. “As far as I know, most friends don’t kiss their other friends like this.”

“You’re more than just my friend, doll.” He promised as his lips came tantalisingly close to yours before he kissed your cheek. “You’re my best friend.”