hoeforbucko - Tumblr blog

hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK i need a nerd bucky irl

relax • two

18+

you've had a long day, so bucky takes you out.

warning: nerd!frat!bucky x reader, fluff, soft!bucky, angst, kissies.

part one

Bucky spots you across the library long before you notice him there. He watches you while you print, wishing that he was the type of guy who could simply rock up next to you and say something cool.

'Hey, beautiful. How you doing?'

As if. Instead, he stays at his table, flicking through the textbook in front of him with his eyes firmly glued to you. He likes your outfit. It's intimidating, how stylish you are, and seeing you interact with multiple people only makes him recoil into himself more.

He doubts you even remember much of the party last weekend. Well, you likely remember the fun parts. The two hours you spent playing games with Bucky, though? Probably left your mind the second you walked out his room.

Suddenly, though, something odd happens. Your eyes land on Bucky before they light up. With a grin, you make your way over to him, putting away the printed sheets in your bag.

"Hey, baby daddy," You greet him warmly, taking his breath away with your casual tone.

Fuck, you're so cool. And you remember that night?

"Hi," He replies politely, glancing around the library to see if anyone else is seeing this, too, or if he's just hallucinating.

"Studying hard?" You ask, looking down at his notes.

Shrugging, he taps the highlighter against his textbook nervously. "I- I guess. Yeah. You?" Pull it together, man.

"Not really; I had an early start and now I'm feeling burnt out," You admit with a sigh. "And I haven't eaten all day, but also the idea of food is so off-putting right now."

"Oh," Bucky says simply, sitting up. "You should eat."

"I know, but nothing sounds good," You complain lightly. "Is it just me, or is food so boring these days?"

Hit with an idea and a semi-decent amount of confidence to go through with it, Bucky clears his throat. "I know this place downtown," He proposes. "They do dessert, but it also doubles as a comic book store. It's- it's pretty cool, if you're into that sort of thing."

A smile grows on your lips. "Dessert sounds perfect," You say warmly. "Let's go!"

His eyes widen slightly. "Let's? You mean, us?"

"Unless you're busy right now?" You ask with a frown.

"No, I'm not busy," Bucky assures you. "I- just give me a second to pack up and we can go."

"I'll help," You offer sweetly, leaning over the table and collecting his colored pens before placing them in his pencil case. Meanwhile, he packs away his books, his eyes flickering up to you every so often. His cheeks tinge pink when your fingers brush against his as you hand him the pencil case, a shiver running down his spine. You pick up his R2-D2 pencil sharpener and hand it to him with a soft laugh and a mumbled, "Cutie," almost making him pass out.

"Uh, shall we go?" He asks softly once he's all packed up.

"Lead the way," You reply with a grin.

It's a brief walk across campus and a few blocks to get to the comic book dessert parlor, but it's a pleasant journey nonetheless.

"And it turns out, General Saunders is the one who stole the treasure from us," Bucky reveals as he tells you how the pirate game ended. "We have to kill him, then save the mayor's daughter from Blue Beard, and the treasure is all ours again."

"I knew there was something off about Saunders," You mutter, shaking your head before smiling coyly and nudging Bucky's arm. "Did we fall in love with the mayor's daughter?"

He chuckles at your question as the two of you walk down the street. "Funny thing, actually; we got the option to either kiss her first or go straight for the treasure chest," He reveals, to which you snort.

"Please tell me you went straight for the treasure," You say between laughs.

"Of course I did!" He exclaims with a grin. "Captain Barnes is all about the money. Love can wait."

"That's a good mantra," You mumble, glancing down at your feet.

"This way," Bucky says, taking your hand and leading you to the edge of the sidewalk before looking both ways. Once it's clear, he leads you across the street.

When you get to the other side, you feel his grip on your hand start to loosen, but you instead link your fingers with his before he gets the chance to pull away. His heart skips a beat at your action, while you do your best to remain calm. This is fine, Y/N, just two friends holding hands on their way to get dessert. Nothing weird about this at all.

You continue walking hand in hand for the remainder of the journey, in a blissful silence. The sun beams down on you, the breeze wafts over your skin, and you feel safe in his presence.

"Here we are," Bucky announces as you reach a busy street of stores and restaurants. As promised, there stands Cookies N' Comics.

"It looks so cute!" You gush as you spot a glimpse of the inside. Hurriedly, you rush in, pulling Bucky behind you.

The interior is fantastic, the walls covered from top to bottom in comic book strips. Cardboard cutouts of superheros and villains are spread around the place, along with figurines as the centerpieces on the tables.

"This is insane," You say with wide eyes, looking around. The sweet smell of waffles and cookie dough only adds to your delight, as a server approaches you.

"Good afternoon, guys," She greets you with a smile. "Table for two?"

"Yes, please," Bucky answers her. "And could we get an upstairs booth?" He isn't one to demand special treatment at all, but he wants to make sure you get the best experience you can.

You immediately understand why he requested to be seated on the first floor once you see it. There's a library of physical comic books along the back wall, along with a few arcade machines.

Sensing your slight overwhelm, Bucky squeezes your hand for a second and takes you over to a table in the corner. You sit down, pulling on his hand when he tries to sit opposite you.

"Sit next to me," You invite him with a slightly pleading tone, wanting him close.

He has no choice but to do as you ask, feeling his cheeks heat up at your close proximity. Be still, my beating heart.

"Do you come here a lot?" You ask him, looking around. It isn't very busy, with a handful of other customers.

"I've only been here a couple of times," He tells you, before laughing. "Steve bought me 3% stock in this place for my birthday."

"Of course he did," You say, shaking your head with a grin before lowering your voice. "I have a very important question, Buck, and I need you to be serious."

Leaning forward with a glint of fear and concern in his eyes, he nods. "Yeah. Shoot."

You place your hands on the table. "Batman or Superman?"

Relief hits him as he relaxes, sitting back and chuckling. "Oh. Uh, you probably won't like my answer."

"How bad could it be?" You wonder with a laugh.

He winces before answering, "Superman."

"Oh, God," You say dramatically, before shaking your head. "I already knew that."

"You did?" He asks, taken aback. "How?"

"Last Halloween, you dressed as Clark Kent," You recall with a warm smile.

"You remember that?" He questions, utterly shocked. "Why?"

"Because," You begin with a sheepish smile. "I remember thinking you looked cute."

He snorts, shaking his head. As if. "And, uh, what were you dressed as?" He asks, swiftly putting the spotlight back onto you.

"Ouch," You say with a pout. "You don't remember?"

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky scours his mind. The fact that he was forced to attend Sam's Halloween party was rectified with a lot of alcohol, which is how he gets through every party he's forced to attend. That also means he promptly forgets every detail come morning.

With a bruised ego, you decide to change the subject and avert your attention to the menu. A waitress comes up to take your order, and soon, you're eating the best brownie sundae you've ever had.

"So, is Superman your all time favorite comic?" You question Bucky curiously.

"No, actually," He admits with a shy smile as he spoons into his cookie dough. "My favorite's always been Xena."

"The warrior princess?" You clarify before grinning. "A man of taste, I see. I'll be sure to dress as her next Halloween; maybe that'll get your attention."

Your wording puts him on edge. You've been trying to get his attention?

"Buck?" You ask once he's ignored you three times. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, fine," He assures you. "Just... the thought of you dressed as Xena had me short-circuiting."

What the fuck? Did he really just say that out loud?

"Bucky Barnes, are you flirting with me?" You gasp playfully, unable to hide your grin.

Blinking a few times, Bucky lets out a quick breath. "Uh..."

Laughing melodically, you shake your head while licking ice-cream off the back of your spoon. "You are too cute, Bucky," You tell him.

His cheeks flush pink as he looks down at his plate, feeling his heart race. "Shut up," He mumbles, biting back his smile.

"Make me," You shoot back slyly.

Lifting his head up, he sits back and asks, "What's the square root of twenty-four thousand, six-hundred and forty-nine?"

Baffled, you frown, tilting your head. After a few moments, you let out a scoff. "What?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Got you to shut up."

You roll your eyes, "You're stupid."

He leans forward and whispers, "It's one-hundred and fifty-seven."

"Still stupid," You whisper back immaturely. "Fuckin' nerd."

Bucky laughs heartily at that, the sound making you heart soar. You didn't think laughter could sound so pretty.

The two of you continue eating and chatting, and you feel all your academic stress melt away as he distracts you with his favorite villain origin stories.

"And then there's Bane; raised in a prison where he had to fight every single day," He tells you, incredible at storytelling. Or maybe you just like him. "He got experimented on, and they injected him with this chemical that turned him into a super soldier. Can you imagine that?"

"Bane's my favorite Batman villain," You tell him eagerly.

Placing his hand on top of yours, Bucky leans closer before uttering, "Mine, too."

Feeling slightly tense under his gaze, you swallow thickly. His hand on yours makes your heart race, and you do your best to keep calm. "Can I ask you something?" You inquire shyly.

"Of course," Bucky replies instantly.

"You're into Star Wars, right?" You ask him.

He smirks, "I mean, you saw my R2-D2 pencil sharpener."

Laughing softly, you nod. "So... can I ask you a favor?"

Without hesitation, he answers, "Anything."

"You know how Steve's throwing that costume party for his birthday next month?" You begin, feeling nervous.

Bucky raises a brow. "Where's this going?"

Deciding to get the question out without overthinking or worrying, you let it out. "Do you wanna go together?"

He wasn't expecting that. "Uh.. you wanna go to the party... with me?"

"Yeah, uh, you can go as Anakin Skywalker, since you already have the arm for it," You say with a nervous laugh. "And then I can be Padme."

"I see," He says with narrow eyes. "You're just using me as a prop for your costume."

Relaxing, you nod. "Yep."

Doing his best to seem casual, he shrugs. "Sure. It'll be fun."

"Really?" You ask, the excitement clear on your features.

"Why not?" Bucky asks with nonchalance. "I didnt have any other ideas." He had many ideas, but he'll put them all on hold for you.

"Great," You mumble, nudging his arm just because you want to touch him. Looking around at the comics strewn around the tables, you grin. "My favorite has always been Zatanna. I love her - have you read any of her comics?"

With a slightly distant stare at your face, Bucky nods. "Mhm."

"She's amazing in Justice League Dark," You go on to gush. "What's your favorite Zatanna comic? Do you have one?"

"Mhm," He repeats, lost in the shine of your eyes.

"Bucky?" You ask with a frown. "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry, I just... " He trails off sheepishly. "I'm thinking about something else."

Sightly offended, you raise a brow. "What are you thinking about?"

He leans in closer, and the tension between you tightens. Immediately, you know what's about to happen, and your heart races at the very thought of it.

"This," Bucky whispers before closing the gap between your lips with a soft kiss. You're quick to reciprocate it, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to stroke against yours. The kiss itself is gentle and slow, paired with his hand on your leg. He strokes your knee, making you shiver at his touch.

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss but stay close to his face, smiling up at him. "I thought Captain Barnes was the type of guy who skipped the kiss and went straight for the treasure," You mumble teasingly.

He smirks back at you. "You're much prettier than the mayor's daughter," He admits, wondering where the fuck the burst of confidence came from.

You lean forward and kiss him again, this time taking his metal hand in yours and linking your fingers. His free hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, keeping your head in place as he deepens the kiss. Slowly, you lead his metal hand to your hip where you place it, allowing it to lower to your ass. He then pulls away to give you a few shorter kisses, each one making your stomach flutter.

Looking into your eyes, his own light up. "Bunny."

Taken aback, you laugh. "What?"

"Last Halloween," He clarifies. "You were dressed as a Playboy bunny."

You're pleasantly surprised by his accurate recollection as you nod. "Well done, Buck. How did you remember?"

His cheeks flush pink as he looks down, shaking his head. "Just... just remembered."

"Do you really expect me to believe that nothing significant reminded you?" You ask him incredulously.

Biting down on his lip, he hides his grin. "Your tail," He finally lets out. "I remember the fluffy bunny tail."

Smirking, you glance down at his metal hand which is still firmly cupping your ass. "Nice," You comment, patting his chest. "Great recollection, Buck."

He laughs, resting his arm on the back of the seat. You lean your head back, and he places his hand on your head where he rubs your scalp. A shiver runs down your spine as you budge closer to him, letting out a sigh of content.

"Thanks for bringing me here, Bucky," You say warmly, linking your fingers with his metal ones. "I really needed a break from studying."

"Happy to help," He replies genuinely, stroking your hair. "Whenever you need a break, you know who to call."

His words make you sit up suddenly. "That reminds me - I don't have your number," You inform him.

"No, you do not," He says with a small smile.

"Why is that?" You ask while pulling out your phone and handing it to him.

Typing in his number, he shrugs bashfully. "I don't know. You never needed it."

"Well, now I do," You tell him with a grin as you take back your phone. When you see that he's saved his contact under 'BJ's Dad', you can't help but laugh. "That's all you are to me?"

"As co-parents, we have to remind ourselves of what's most important," He says teasingly, nudging your arm. "Our son comes before our personal relationship, as much as I know you wanna save my number as Steve's Hot Friend."

Smiling coyly, you squeeze his arm. "Now, you're my hot friend."

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth as his cheeks turn red and he loses the ability to look at you. You love how shy you can make him, finding it utterly adorable.

Checking the time on your phone, you deflate slightly. "Ah, we should probably head back. I have a class in twenty minutes," You inform him regretfully.

"Of course," Bucky says with a nod, standing up before holding his hand out to you. "Let's go."

He takes you downstairs and to the counter at the front, where someone is waiting at the cash machine. You start to pull out your purse, but Bucky gently places his hand on your arm.

"Don't worry about it; I got it," He assures you while taking out his wallet.

"Oh, you shouldn't," You say, stepping forward. "We can split it."

The worker at the counter smirks at you, tilting her head. "Let him pay for the date, miss," She interjects with a wink.

Date? You and Bucky share a quick look before immediately looking away again, both of you taken by surprise. Was this a date? Well, you did kiss. Does that make it a date?

Giving in, you step back. Bucky gives you a victorious grin as approaches the counter, wallet in hand. Meanwhile, you're distracted by a life-size figure of Shazam!, and you trail over to look at it closely.

"Would you like to buy any comics, today?" The worker asks Bucky.

He glances back at where you're exploring the other life-size figures and smiles before turning back to the worker. "Yeah, can I get one of every Zatanna comic you have?

She looks surprised at his request, but nods. "Absolutely, Sir, let me just take a look in the back and see what we have for ya," She replies before going to the storeroom behind her. A few minutes later, she returns with a pile of around eight comic books, which she's placed into a small box for him. She rings it up and adds the price of the food, before giving him a smile. "That'll be $62.59 today, Sir."

Once Bucky's paid, the two of you make your way outside. He timidly takes your hand in his free one, unable to look at you when he does so. His heart pounds when your fingers link with his, and the two of you begin to walk back to campus.

You glance down over at the box he's holding in his metal hand and raise a brow. "What's in the box?" You ask him curiously.

Casually, Bucky shrugs. "Just a coupla comics," He tells you, biting back his stupidly wide grin.

bucky masterlist

side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

buy me a kofi <3

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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relax

18+

when everything gets too much, you can rely on bucky to calm you down.

content warning: nerd!frat!bucky x reader, fluff, mention of panic attacks/anxiety, brief mention of masturbation, soft!bucky is timid and cute and if anyone hurts him i will kill them, subtle implication of m*necraft.

You burst into the bedroom, leaving behind the booming party and instead entering Bucky's peaceful safe haven. He looks over his shoulder from where he's sitting, pulling down his headset with a frown.

"Y/N?" He's confused to see you, assuming you'd be partying with his roommates and the rest of campus.

"Hi," You breathe out, closing the door and leaning back against it. "I'm sorry, but is it okay if I just chill in here with you for a bit?"

"Uh, sure," Bucky answers, still taken aback. He keeps his eyes on you as you trek over to sit on the chair next to him. "Do- do you wanna play?"

"No, that's okay. I just wanna watch," You reply with a small smile.

He hesitantly returns to his game, side-eyeing you every few seconds with slight bewilderment. The sound of his thumbs hitting the buttons of his controller relaxes you, giving you something to ground yourself with. You sit back, looking up at the ceiling, doing your best to take slow, long breaths.

"Are- are you having a panic attack?" Bucky asks you timidly, to which you laugh softly.

"No; just doing some deep breathing," You inform him. "I'm fine, really."

He nods slowly, turning back to his game. Slowly, you sit up and budge closer before resting your head on his arm.

"Is this okay?" You ask him lowly.

"Y- yeah, of course," He replies genuinely, feeling his heart flutter. After a few moments, he lifts up his arm and mumbles, "Here," before instead wrapping it around your shoulder, allowing you to move closer to him and rest your head against his chest. The action makes his stomach flip, and he wonders where he plucked up the courage to do it.

"What do you have to do?" You ask him with a mumble.

It takes him a few seconds to realize you're talking about the game. "Uh, I'm playing this pirate, outlaw guy, and I'm tracking down my stolen booty," He informs you. "The game kinda sucks, but now I've started it, so I have to complete it. The graphics aren't bad though, and most of the side missions are fun."

You watch on with keen interest as he plays, smiling when you catch a glimpse at the character. "Did you customize him?"

Bucky snorts. "Yeah, take a look," He says before turning the camera to show you his character - and the resemblance is uncanny.

"Oh, my God, he looks exactly like you!" You exclaim between laughs. "But, not as handsome."

His cheeks tinge pink and he's glad his room is dark. "Well, video game technology hasn't yet advanced enough to be able to recreate such beauty," He says sarcastically. "One day, though."

"One day," You repeat through a grin.

Bucky pulls out his headset from the controller which causes the sound of the game to play out loud. He lowers the volume, the game's background music combined with the occasional fight sounds being oddly calming to you. You look down at his hands, watching as his fingers expertly dance on the controller, his veins and tendons popping through every so often. His metal hand steals your attention, and you stare at it in awe.

"I had to retrain it when I first got it," He recounts, somehow able to tell that you were thinking about it. "Thought I'd never be able to play again, but it actually works better than my real hand, now."

"Does ink show up on the metal?" You ask him curiously. "If you draw on it?"

"Mhm," He replies absentmindedly as a particularly intense battle begins in the game.

Reaching out to the desk, you pick up a dark purple Sharpie from his pen holder and pull off the lid. Instead of drawing on his hand which would distract him from the game, you opt to draw a little further up. Bucky feels the sensation but is too engrossed to pay any real attention to it.

"Come on, you fucker," He mutters lowly, leaning forward. His arm wraps tighter around you as the fight intensifies, until you're practically forced to lay against him. You aren't complaining, though.

Once he wins the battle, he lets out a sigh of relief before relaxing. Looking down at you, he realizes what you did and leans closer to get a good look.

"Cute fish," He comments with a smile. "What's his name?"

"Uhh..." You give it a few more details, including some air bubbles. "Bucky."

"Very original," He teases you. "How'd ya come up with that one?"

"Shut it," You mumble with a laugh, pushing against his chest. "It's little Bucky Junior."

"Aw," Bucky coos, looking down at it proudly. "Look at that; he's got my eyes."

"My scales, though," You add, drawing tiny love hearts around it.

"You're his mom?" He asks with a raised brow.

"I am the one who made him," You say dramatically. "I practically birthed him!"

"Alright, alright," He says with a chuckle, looking back down at the fish. "Sorry about that, Bucky Junior; mommy can get a little testy."

"Don't turn little BJ against his mother!" You gasp, nudging him.

"BJ?" Bucky repeats incredulously. "You nicknamed our child blowjob?"

"What you choose to connote with his nickname is down to you," You state curtly, taking his metal hand off the controller to give yourself better access to it as you begin to doodle on it.

"Do you mind? My body is not your canvas," He says, though he can't hide the wide smile on his face.

"Yes, it is," You retort, glancing up at the paused game. "You didn't have to stop playing."

"Well, my strong hand is currently occupied elsewhere," He says pointedly.

Frowning, you tilt your head. "Is it true that guys use their dominant hand to jerk off?" You ask, the shots from earlier releasing you of your inhibitions.

"Uh, it depends on the guy, I guess," Bucky answers you with a shrug.

"Which one do you use?" You ask him without even realizing what you're saying.

An awkward look overtakes his face as he glances down at his metal hand which is currently being held by yours. "Uh..."

"Gross!" You cry, dropping his hand.

"I clean it!" He swears, holding his flesh hand up in surrender.

"Doesn't it hurt?" You wonder, picking it back up again and going back to doodling.

"I thought it would, but I was pleasantly surprised," Bucky says, so past the point of shock at the fact that he's discussing his masturbation habits with Steve's pretty friend that all he can do is go with it. "Doesn't hurt at all."

"That's good," You mutter, drawing a cat. "I'm glad to hear that."

"You are?" He asks you with a raised brow.

"Of course!" You claim. "Your satisfaction means a lot to me, Bucky."

"Shut it, you weirdo," He says between chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder. "How come you ditched the party?"

You let out a loud, dramatic sigh, closing the Sharpie and tossing it back onto the desk. "It just got a little... too much," You explain as best you can. "When there's so many people being so loud and excited, it just gets overwhelming."

"I completely understand that," He tells you truthfully. "Which is why I spend my night in here playing shitty video games, instead."

"Yeah, I see the appeal," You say. "Might have to join you in here more often."

"Be my guest," Bucky offers warmly. "It'd be nice for little BJ to see more of his ma, too."

"Are you calling me an absent parent?" You scoff, placing your hand on your chest.

He winces, shrugging. "Well, I definitely ain't calling you a present parent."

Shaking your head, you look up at him with a glare. "As my baby daddy, you should respect me a lot more."

His metal hand moves to rest on your hip, making you shiver. "I'm sorry," He says with a pout. "Forgive me?"

You let out a sigh. "How could I refuse the face that even video game technology couldn't replicate?"

Bucky laughs heartily at that, and his grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, making your stomach flip. Why are you so nervous? It's only Bucky.

Glancing down at his hand to see your newer doodles, he snorts when he reads, 'I jerk off with this hand and it doesn't hurt,' written on his wrist and palm.

"Thank you for that," He says dryly. "That's exactly the kind of thing that'll stop people being scared of it."

You laugh at his words before your face drops and you frown. "People are scared of it?"

Bucky raises a brow. "You haven't heard anyone say that?"

"Well, my only friends are your best friends," You point out, glancing back at his bedroom door. "And something tells me they aren't scared of you."

"They're not, unfortunately," He says with a chuckle. "But, yeah. Maybe scared is giving myself too much credit, but they're definitely weirded out by it."

"Oh," You utter simply, before linking your fingers with his cold, metal ones. "Well, they're missing out on the best canvas I've ever used."

"They don't deserve it," He mumbles, resting his head on yours. "They don't deserve to know little BJ."

"Right? Our BJ was born of love and beauty," You say, tracing over the little fish. "I gave you BJ despite how hard it was."

He grins, shaking his head. "So stupid," He murmurs between laughs.

You can't help but laugh along, looking up at him with a wide smile. Having not realized how close you were too each other, you're a little taken aback by the proximity of his face to yours. Of his lips to yours. His eyes are wide and glued to yours as he feels your breath on his chin, making him shiver. For a few seconds, you both forget that the outside world exists.

Pulling yourself out of it, you sit up straight and look ahead. "Do you have any two-player games?" You ask him casually.

Bucky clears his throat before pulling out another controller. "Do I?" He replies pointedly. "You bet your ass."

You take the controller from him and watch as he turns it on and signs in for you.

"What do you wanna do?" He asks, scrolling through his vast library of games. "Beat me up? Build a house? Race me?"

"I wanna beat you up," You answer him bluntly. "Because I'd never be able to in real life, but I've got a good chance in a game."

Narrowing his eyes, he smirks. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, baby," He mutters without even realizing what he's saying.

The nickname makes your heart race but you do well to recover, keeping your eyes on the screen. "We'll see, Bucky Senior," You reply lowly, subtly moving back to where you were before with one of your shoulders resting against his chest.

You grin as he shows you secret moves and special combinations, his eyes lighting up when you get the hang of it quickly. "That's my girl!" He exclaims proudly, grinning. "Beat the fuck out of me- just like that. Have you played this before?"

Once you're done beating him up, he puts it on a calmer game, the two of you working together to build Bucky Junior a home. The music drowns out the noise from the party, and once again, it's just the two of you that exist in the world.

You smile to yourself as he explains the difference types of stones and bricks to you, his low voice making you feel safe and grounded. Though you've never really spent any time with Bucky before tonight, you find yourself getting along with him as though you've known him your while life. God, are you glad you came into his room tonight.

Bucky feels himself relax with the weight of you against him. Leaning his head on yours, he lets out a content sigh. He's never had the balls to talk to you before, as most of Steve's friends don't give Bucky the time of day and aren't the type of people he'd wanna be friends with anyway, but you just showed up and completely took him by surprise. God, he's glad you came into his room tonight.

part two >

bucky masterlist

i don't have a taglist, follow my side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates

buy me a kofi <3

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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all I do is listen to music and think about my silly little fictional people

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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my comfort fic!!!!!! jus wanna say if this was published im gonna buy the hardcover version of the book even though im broke as fuck

Foot-in-Mouth Syndrome Masterpost (Complete)

Summary: On a fortuitous night, you meet two of the dumbest Avengers. One of them is red, white, and shit-for-brains. The other happens to be named near-identical to your dog. Chaos ensues. Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

–

Part I: What’s in a Name (That Which We Call a Bucky)

Part II: Of Cinnamon Rolls and Soldats

Part III: On the Road, and Off the Road

Part IV: I’m in the Mood For Love

Part V: The Damn Truth

Part VI*: In For Life

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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Chris Evans characters as daddy types. 🥵🥺

The (get on your knees now) daddy. 🥵

The (sweet smug) daddy. 😀

The (jealous/I'm gonna destroy you tonight) daddy. 😳

The (degrading) daddy. 🥵

The (wait till we get home) daddy. 😵

The (I'm gonna eat you out until you pass out) daddy. 😶

The (playful soft dom) daddy. 🥺

The (sweet, bubba cuddly) daddy. +sweet cuddly dodger. 🥺🥺🥺

The (long nights, bad boy, trouble) daddy. 🥵

For Sebastian Stan.

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

Text

my comfort fic 😇

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 14

Part 14: Negotiations & Promises

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.9k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia families. References threats from creepy mustache guys. References to mistresses. Firearms. First time sex for the reader. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~

When the reception finally started winding down, you took the opportunity while Steve was talking to the heads of the families and his lieutenants to slip away. Yelena escorted you to the stairs and from there, you made your way to the room where you’d been sleeping until last night.

And last night? Well, that had your emotions spiraling more than they already were. Fear of the unknown did battle with curiosity and the deep craving he’d kindled in your body. Yeah, you were officially married now and consummating the union was inevitable.

Your body was open to the idea. Your mind still rebelled against the loss of your freedom. Your heart?

Blowing out a sigh, you dropped onto the edge of your bed. Your emotions were a tempest you were too tired to control. It felt like you’d been at war for so long.

Standing in front of you, Yelena looked as concerned as you felt. There’d been no opportunity to talk to her in private during the entire affair and she’d looked worried since the confrontation with Katerina.

“While I have the opportunity, I want to apologize to you for earlier,” Yelena said slowly and with sincerity. “Hansen created a diversion and that’s how Katerina was able to get to you. For that, I am very sorry. I wouldn’t have had that happen to you today of all days. Her presence was terrible enough.”

It really was.

“What did he do?” you had to ask.

“He followed us when I led you out of the wedding party,” she explained. "I went to warn him and he led me on a chase."

That Yelena was wary of Barnes’ man was obvious. You understood. You’d be happy never to see the man again. Somehow you doubted you’d be that lucky.

“He stared at you the entire time they were here,” she went on. “When I confronted him, the bastard acted like I was overreacting. He made me realize that I really am an amateur here.”

That pause, that deep breath she took to steady herself, made you understand that he scared her too.

“I let you down,” Yelena told you. “I am so sorry.”

You had wondered where she’d been when Katerina was waiting for you outside the bathroom. And then Hansen had found you. You didn’t know Yelena at all. You’d just met her today. But intuition told you she was telling the truth.

“Hey, you told me earlier that you were learning,” you replied. “So am I. I could have done without ever meeting either of them. But that wasn’t your fault. I can’t help but feel like it would have been worse without you there.”

Yelena nodded, a little hope creeping into her expression.

“What did you say to her?” you wanted to know. “In Russian. You yelled something at her.”

“I told her to go before I put my foot up her whore ass.” Yelena tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t hold it when you laughed.

“Would you be interested in doing this again? Working with me?”

“Working for you?” Yelena’s smile was tentative. “I would be very interested, yes.”

You hadn’t changed your mind about that. You wanted Yelena to be your own security. It was best you didn’t say anything to her until Steve agreed to it. And you had a plan to get him to agree to it.

“Thank you,” you told her. “Thank you for watching over me today.”

Yelena nodded, looked relieved.

“Would you like for me to get the stylists to help you change?” she asked.

“Fuck no,” you told her, pulling the veil from your head. “They can go. I’ve had enough of that for one day.”

Yelena did help you out of the elaborate wedding dress. Then there was the gun strapped to your thigh. Removing the .22 and the cuff, she thought about it for a moment and then handed them to you.

“Hold on to them for me,” she bid you. “You can find a hiding place, yes?”

Oh, you could and did. “You know, I have no idea how to use it.”

“You could learn,” Yelena told you. “It would be best if you did.”

That intrigued you. Especially with Katerina’s hatred of you, the mystery of her necklace, Bucky Barnes, and creepy mustache guy.

“You would teach me?” you asked.

“I would,” she replied with no hesitation.

You grabbed a robe and she kept you company as you tried to decide which of the fancy lingerie pieces to wear for your wedding night. Her company was soothing, nearly as comfortable to you as Dyson’s.

You’d kept your alcohol intake to a minimum as she’d suggested. You just wished you had a bit now.

Shaking your head at the three different filmy little negligees you’d narrowed it down to, you sighed. “I have no clue what I’m doing here.”

“What do you mean?” She eyed you curiously. “You’ve shared a bed by now, yes?”

“I haven’t shared a bed with anyone,” you admitted.

The shock on her face at that was priceless. You had to laugh.

After a moment, she recovered. “Well, honestly, it really won’t matter what you’re wearing. Not where he is concerned. Wear what would make you feel best.”

“Then I’ll wear my pajamas,” you told her.

Instead of telling you what you should do or what was expected, Yelena nodded. Deferred to you.

Now that’s the kind of support you really needed.

But on thinking about it, you needed to look the part. You needed to convince Steve to allow you to retain Yelena as your security. Especially if she could help you learn to defend yourself. If you were going to be trapped in a world of violence? You needed to learn to be violent.

When you picked out the pale blue negligee instead, Yelena’s raised brow posed the question she didn’t speak.

“Since apparently, I’m seeing this marriage through,” you explained, “I guess I should go with one of these.”

When she nodded to the strap mark around your thigh where the gun had been for hours, you shrugged and tried to play it nonchalantly. You just didn’t think you were fooling her at all.

“It will be a conversation opener,” you said nervously.

“Hey,” Yelena said, sounding more like a friend than a bodyguard. “It’s nothing to be scared of so long as he is careful with you. The first time always hurts but in time, you might like it.”

You suspected she was right, but you weren’t going to admit that to her or yourself.

“Either way,” Yelena went on, “you will find sex a useful tool with him.”

“Keep him happy you mean?” You’d heard this before. “Be a submissive wife and mother?”

“No,” Yelena was firm. “That’s not what I meant… Look, sex can be whatever you want it to be. If you make it a chore, an obligation, you will treat it as a chore. And you will send him back to her bed.”

You didn’t like that reference. “Do you know her?” you had to ask.

“No,” she replied. “But seeing how she conducted herself today?”

Yelena didn’t need to finish that thought.

“Make sex what you want it to be,” she went on. “Steve isn’t unattractive. That’s fortunate.”

That was the truth. Steve was undeniably handsome.

“You will learn it and then you will learn what you like,” she concluded.

“I have no idea what I like,” you told her. “Katerina was right about one thing. I have no clue how to satisfy him.”

Yelena shrugged. “That you have never been with anyone could be an advantage. Some men like that. Steve will teach you how to please him. He will please you. But you need to be willing to learn. And once you have, perhaps you will both enjoy your relationship.”

You’d honestly never thought about any of it that way.

“Once you’re confident in your intimacies, you’ll find that he is more receptive to your ideas and wishes.” The smirk she finished that with was telling. She wasn’t telling you to grin and bear it. She was explaining how you could take some ownership in your marriage, even as inexperienced as you were.

She had to leave not long after that and you changed into the negligee. You kept the satin robe on to help shield you from winter’s chill. As you waited for your husband, you thought about all of Yelena’s help. You were more determined now to have her as your confidante, your protection.

Nerves were getting the best of you as you tried to stay calm, turning on a musical that you often watched for comfort.

Steve quietly opened the door and walked into your bedroom just after midnight. His suit coat was gone. His tie hung loosely from his shirt and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His feet were bare. If anything, he looked like more of a temptation.

Damn him.

The soft light of the lamp was enough for him to see you. The robe wasn’t belted, and he got an eyeful of you stretched out on your bed.

“I’m sorry it took me a while to get away,” he finally said. “I somehow knew I’d find you here.”

You nodded. That was deliberate. There were things you needed to talk about.

Steve walked over to your bed and it dipped under his weight as he sat beside you, one hand sliding gently up your arm and down again. The light touch made you shiver. And he always smelled so good.

You couldn’t start like this. Carefully, you sat up, nudged his hand away.

The soft smile that curved his lips faded and he nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Princess.” He sounded like he meant it. “It’s my fault she did this. I should have ended things with her way before I did.”

Tears were coming and you were trying to blink them back, to keep your voice steady. “Yes, you should have.”

Steve smiled at that. “It’s progress. I was expecting you to tell me I shouldn’t have ended things with her again.”

Swiping angrily at the tears, you shook your head. No, it wasn’t funny. When you told him that before? You meant it. The only reason you weren’t hurling insults at his head now was because you wanted something.

It wasn’t the reaction he expected. He was so careful when he reached for your hand. You yanked it away, let the tears come now.

Steve sighed. “The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. Especially today.”

“I’m not crying because I’m upset, Steve,” you told him with your temper rising. “I’m angry. I’m so angry. You know, most of the time when you bring a woman to tears? She’s not broken. She’s pissed off. Really pissed off. And it just sucks that it comes out this way.”

You scrambled to the other side of the bed and jumped off, staring him down.

“It’s understandable,” Steve sounded resigned. “And I put us in that position. It won’t happen again.”

“Position?” Your anger flared but you tried to keep control. You needed to remember your goal here. “Having to play nice with her, your ex-girlfriend, and Barnes, who hates my guts, at my own wedding? That was an uncomfortable position. When Katerina cornered me at the bathroom?”

Steve’s gaze hardened at that. “What?”

“I went to the bathroom,” you explained. “Yelena was with me. But someone lured her away and when I came out, there was Katerina. “

“Lured Yelena away?” Steve asked with deceptive calm.

You were getting to that.

“Katerina told me you were hers. That I’d never be able to keep you happy and that you’d end up back in her bed.”

“She wasn’t happy when I broke things off,” he replied. “She took it out on you. She won’t do it again.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” you told him. “Katerina found a way to smuggle that necklace in for the rehearsal dinner. Today she shows up for the wedding. And she had help.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s growing ire was obvious.

“Yelena came right back and ran her off,” you told him. “And then there he was. That creepy mustache guy with Barnes. Hansen, right?”

Oh, that got Steve’s attention. “What happened?”

Your hesitation seemed to be enough of an answer for him. Steve rose from the bed, marching around it to you, getting in your space.

“Did he touch you?” he demanded, his big hands capturing your upper arms. “Tell me everything.”

You told him exactly what the bastard did and said. Your anger faded, replaced by the fear that you’d shoved down at the time. There was the slightest tremor to your voice as you spoke. You shook beneath his hands.

“It happened so fast,” you ended with. “Yelena, well, she told me he was worse than Barnes so…”

Steve’s gaze didn’t leave yours. “He scared you.”

You nodded.

“Yelena is right about him,” Steve told you. “Man’s an animal. I don’t want the fucker ever laying eyes on you again. Much less touching what’s mine.”

Stepping back, he released you. One hand scrubbed over his beard. Steve was furious and it made you realize Hansen was indeed a serious threat.

You tried to ignore the way your heart squeezed in your chest. He wasn’t angry because of you. Steve didn’t care about you. It was an affront to his position. That was all he saw. Creepy mustache guy touched his wife. His property.

After a moment, he seemed to recover. Moving back to you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulled you into the solid heat of him. His hands felt good smoothing over your back as he held you.

“We’ll deal with that situation tomorrow,” he said softly. “This is why I need you to trust me to keep you safe. Okay? I’m not trying to clip your wings here. But until this situation is dealt with, I can’t risk anything happening to you.”

“You’re head of the families now,” you said in a tone that was dangerously close to self-pity. “You have everything you wanted. You don’t really need me anymore.”

“Hey,” Steve drew your gaze to his. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but your father’s position isn’t the only reason I wanted you. I’ve told you that… And you said it yourself. If I hadn’t pushed the marriage, I would have found a way to take his seat anyway. You’re right. But once I saw you, I wanted you too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ll be Katerina with a wedding ring?”

“Katerina wasn’t my girlfriend so much as she was convenient,” Steve told you, his warmth welcoming. “We had an arrangement. She got a certain dollar figure every month, and I went over there to blow off steam. I can count on one hand how many times we went anywhere outside her condo. It wasn’t my idea of a relationship.”

Steve didn’t consider it a relationship, huh? Maybe not many people realized who she was. Still…

“A marriage is a relationship,” Steve told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “We’ll get to know each other. We’ll go places and be seen. We’ll have a family. You’re my wife now and I’m very proud of that.”

Steve brushed a kiss on your lips before he went on. “If we catch feelings along the way? Well, that’s just the way it’s supposed to be.”

You had to stop yourself from telling him that he didn’t have to say things like that now. You were married. The deed was done. When he continued kissing you, enticing promises of his lips on yours, your heart sped up. When he pulled you closer to him, you went willingly.

You put up no fight, so his seduction shifted from a silent question to smoldering desire. He deepened the kiss, tasting you while his hands moved down your back, sliding gently over the curve of your ass. Steve pulled your hips into him, grinding the hard length of himself into your belly. While you were lost between trepidation and a raw need that was new to you, Steve groaned. The deep sound had your thighs squeezing together, had your center heating up.

Your hands clutched in his shirt, holding on because he was kissing you breathless. While one large hand kept you pressed into his body, the other moved down your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers lightly skimming over the skin of your thigh.

Then he stopped, breaking the kiss. Leaning down to hook his fingers behind your knee, he pulled your thigh up to his hip. The move made you aware of the heated wet silk covering the most intimate part of you.

Steve’s gaze locked with yours, before looking at the lines on your thigh from the cuff. You’d known he’d find it.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“The marks from a really big garter?” you tried, still a little winded from his kisses.

“A gun?” Steve knew. “Who gave you that? Dyson?”

“Yelena,” you admitted.

Skepticism crept into his expression. You remember how he tried to put you off about the subject before the reception. You knew he didn’t have a lot of faith in Yelena. Because she was young? Because she was a woman?

You had faith in her. You were going to see this through.

“You ever handled a gun?”

“I don’t think I’d ever seen a gun in real life before today,” you told him. “It gave me a lot to think about.”

“I will keep you safe,” Steve said carefully.

Lowering your thigh, you realized you had no idea how to use sex to get what you wanted here. You’d never had it. Your mind scrambled and came up with another angle fast.

“I believe you,” you told him, still clinging to his shirt. “It’s just that man scared me so badly. I don’t know what I would have done without Yelena there.”

Steve tensed a little at that. “The wedding is done now. Until things with Barnes are resolved, you won’t be out in the open like that again. I promise.”

“But I felt better having her there,” you pleaded. “And she can go places with me that your men can’t.”

“Maybe.” He was thinking about it. “But we also have Dyson. I have no problem with him being in your private spaces.”

“He might,” you pointed out. “That day he walked in when I was in the bathtub, I thought he’d have a heart attack.”

Steve chuckled. “He did.” After a moment of gazing into your eyes, he nodded. “I’ll think about it, okay? If it’s that important to you, I’ll consider it.”

Well, you had to commit to it.

Carefully letting go of his shirt, you eased out of his embrace. “That’s fair. Let me know what you decide, and we’ll get back to this.”

You could have laughed to see Steve standing where you left him, gaping at you. His flushed face and the tent at the front of his trousers let you know you’d left him in a bit of a state.

“Excuse me?” he said after a minute like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Folding your arms across your chest, knowing it showed off your cleavage, you studied him calmly.

“Steve, I’m just not going to be able to relax enough to enjoy myself here under the circumstances,” you said, surprised at how smoothly it came out. “So I think it’s fair that we pick this up once you’ve reached a decision.”

His brows shot up. He planted his hands on his hips as he blew out an exhale. “You’re really going to put the brakes on here to get me to agree to something when I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

It’s possible. Yelena wants to do it.

You smiled. “Yes, I really am.”

Oh, he was pissed. “There’s a lot more to this than you realize,” he said meaningfully.

“I’m sure there is.” You had no clue, but it really wasn’t your problem. You wanted her as your personal security and that was that.

His brows lowered. It was an intimidating scowl.

“You’ve already kept me waiting for two years,” he pointed out, his voice tight.

“Then however long it takes to find out what you need to know shouldn’t be a problem,” you said lightly, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

You made it exactly three steps when a large hand grabbed your upper arm, spun you around to face him. Steve leaned down, got on eye level with you. Heat came off him in waves, a combination of frustration and need.

“You’re going to shut me down, your husband, on our wedding night until you get what you want?” he demanded.

It was meant to try to guilt you into backing down. You weren’t about to capitulate. You stared him down.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you said calmly.

“If I agree to it, and I’m not sold on the idea, we continue?” he asked. “And I can’t guarantee anything.”

“But you’re the most powerful man in Boston now,” you reminded him. “I think you can guarantee it. And I need to feel safe.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he warned you.

“I’m aware,” you replied.

His gaze moved over your face, your lips. His hand tightened on your arm slightly.

“If she even wants to do this,” Steve told you, “She’s going to answer every fucking question I have. You’re my wife and I’m not risking your life for anyone. Even you.”

“When?” you wanted to know.

“As soon as I can arrange it,” he told you in an edgy tone. “Monday. I need tomorrow to recover from the wedding... Do we have a deal?”

“Swear it.” It was something your father always demanded in your dealings with him.

Steve hesitated. You felt his intensity in the hand that still held you in place.

“I swear,” he told you.

You yelped at how quickly he moved, scooping you up in his arms and hustling out of your bedroom, headed for his own. You barely had time to wrap your arms around his neck when he kicked his door shut, approaching his huge bed fast.

You tried to push fear of the unknown down as he dropped you onto the bed, climbed onto it after you. Steve’s eyes were dark and heated and he chased you to the center of his bed, looking ready to pounce. When he reached for your robe, you flinched as he stripped it off you, tossing it off the bed. The negligee you wore was thin and short, not hiding much.

Steve took a deep breath then, stretched out next to you.

You didn’t want to just lay there like a sacrificial lamb, so you reached for his shirt, your fingers working to open the buttons quickly. Steve smirked, grabbing the shirt, and pulling it open, free of his slacks the second you were done. Before he accomplished it, your fingers were already tracing the ink of his tattoos expertly applied to his smooth skin, shown off by all those muscles.

One benefit to this? You'd enjoy exploring those. When he was covered up by his suits, you found Steve very handsome. When all those tattoos were on display, he looked dangerous, and you had to remember he was.

Today made you realize just how dangerous his world, your father’s world, really was. If you could convince him to let you have Yelena, you would feel better. She’d teach you to defend yourself.

If you figured out how to make him happy, well, he’d keep you safe too.

What if Yelena was right? What if sex was something you liked after all?

His breath came fast as he just watched. But he wasn’t stopping you. When he grinned and rolled onto his back, you paused. But he tucked his hands behind his head – oh my God look at his biceps – and you took it that you were free to keep exploring. And oh, you did.

There was a light dusting of chest hair across his chest. As you smoothed your hands all over those muscles, you found scars there too. Small silver lines littered his torso, wounds healed some time ago. If what Nat told you was true, Steve was in his early thirties. To you, it seemed like a lot of scars for someone to have at that age.

It also suggested that while he was the leader now, he hadn’t always been.

One of your hands slid down, over the top of his slacks and further. When your hand slid over the length of him, his mouth dropped open. You squeezed him lightly, before slowly stroking him, up and down.

You jumped a little when his hand covered yours, but you didn’t move it. Steve guided your motions then, urging you to use a little pressure when you touched his cock. Guiding your hand further down, you felt his sac there, swollen and soft. Steve guided you in touching those too, his body starting to move restlessly.

You remembered your objective here. Your hands went for his belt, opening his slacks. Yeah, you’d surprised him, but he made no move to stop you. When you grabbed those slacks, the briefs beneath, you pulled them down his hips with intention. The scent of him went to your head, unfamiliar and musky. His cock was red and swollen, lying on his abdomen. It was bigger than you would have guessed. It was the first time you'd seen one of those in real life too.

Now you were a little nervous.

Slowly, you traced your fingers along that shaft. His skin was so soft…

Steve was much faster to help you this time. Showing you how to wrap your fingers around him and stroke him, how to move with a little speed, a little pressure.

Leaning down, you brushed your lips over the head of his cock. A light, warm press.

“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly.

When you did it again, he sat up. His big hands grabbed your face as he claimed your mouth in a brutal kiss. The kiss was one shade away from rough and demanding. It wiped your mind clear of everything else. His tongue teased yours, his hands held you in place. You couldn’t say you immediately noticed that he rolled you under him.

“I like your initiative,” he whispered, his face flushed above yours.

His weight felt nice on you. When he ground his erection against your lower belly, your lower body clenched. The craving that he kindled between your thighs wasn’t unfamiliar. You remembered the sharp pleasure he’d drawn from you last night. But something about the covetous way his gaze moved over you had your heart racing, made you feel heated and restless.

“I just can’t wait anymore,” he told you, dropping kisses like hot rain over your face and neck.

Grabbing the negligee by the hem, he roughly yanked it up and pulled it off you, popping one of the straps in his haste. You didn’t have time to react to that because he was kissing you breathless, his hands roaming possessively over you. His rough palms felt good on the tight points of your nipples, smoothing down your tummy until his fingers slid into your panties.

His fingers? Steve knew what he was doing. You grabbed the bedding beneath you when the pad of a finger found your clint, tracing unbearably light circles around it until the room started to spin. Sliding down to your entrance, he teased the slick flesh there, groaning when you circled your hips to get more of his touch.

When his mouth claimed one of your nipples, you grabbed him. You were losing your mind. His tongue lashed your nipple while that finger slid slowly into your untried opening. You appreciated the care he took even as your thighs squeezed him, needing to close around something.

You thought he’d do what he did last night, make you come using his fingers. When they left you, you whined. Steve grinned at you before he moved down the bed, roughly pulling those tiny silk panties until they gave way. Heated presses of his lips blazed a trail from your breasts to your tummy. You gasped when he kept going.

Grinning, he pressed little kisses to the top of your bare mound while your entire being went up in flames of embarrassment and…

“I like this,” he told you, sliding a finger over your bare intimate flesh.

He wanted you to talk right now?

“It looks better,” you explained breathlessly, “for dancing. I’ve studied ballet…”

“I’m not questioning it,” he told you with a wink. “You’ll enjoy this more because you’ll feel everything.”

“Everything?”

You jerked in surprise when Steve put his mouth on you there. He moved quickly to get a tight grip on your thighs, keeping them wedged open as he kissed your pussy like he would your mouth. The unease burned off fast as he used his tongue, lips, and the harsh rasps of his breath to explore every part of you.

When he used his tongue on your clit, you trembled, moving your hips instinctually to get more of that. When he slid his finger deeper inside you, you grabbed for his shoulders and hair. That seeking touch made you realize how empty you felt, made you need. Steve’s groan was a deep, earthy sound on you, making you feel it. When his tongue traced your entrance, the light strokes that made you feel like you were going to combust, you cried out.

While he took his time, you didn’t miss the part where he was grinding his own hips into the bed beneath him. It pushed your desire higher. Your nails dug into his scalp, holding his head to you as he tormented you with soft lashes of his tongue, masterful strokes of his fingers. When he sent you flying, you could barely breathe. The orgasm rocked you to your core.

But he didn’t stop. You were aching and trembling, so he doubled down. The sight of his golden head between your thighs would be burned into your mind after this. The way he ceaselessly tasted and tormented you made you a wild wanton thing on the bed beneath him, desperate for anything he’d give you.

The second time you came he used his fingers and his mouth, leaving you gasping and euphoric beneath him. The flesh between your thighs quivered. The heated kisses he pressed to your inner thighs had you twitching. You were so sensitive now.

Reaching into the drawer of his bedside table, you watched him fish out a condom. He had it out of the packaging and rolled on in Olympic-worthy speed.

When Steve rose above you, he’d taken himself in hand. You watched him stroke that impressive stalk of flesh, studying how he moved. In the span of a heartbeat, he moved over you, slotting himself between your trembling thighs.

You felt him positioning the wide head of himself at your entrance, anxiety had you tensing beneath him.

“Shhh.” Steve realized you were scared. He was so gentle when he lowered himself over you, claiming your mouth in a lusty kiss. The taste of you smeared over your mouth as he dazed you with that kiss. The kissing you liked, and it did ease you whether from lack of oxygen or just the feeling of him surrounding you, keeping you warm and safe.

Steve was still kissing you when you felt the pressure, felt him pushing himself into you. He moved fast, breaking through your barrier in one sharp thrust. He captured your surprised cry of pain in his mouth, holding still inside you once he was as far as he could go.

It stung like fire and tears swelled in your eyes as you tried to fight him, tried to push him back.

Steve broke off the kiss, still not moving while your lower body adjusted to the painful intrusion.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips. “It will feel better.”

But it didn’t when he pulled back, not pulling free of your body. It still hurt but the pain was less. When he pushed back in, the hurt was fading. Your inner walls tightened around him as he slowly began to move.

In seconds the pain gave way to a feeling of fullness. It was too much and not enough as he loved you, his movements slow and careful. It hurt less when you brought your thighs up around his slim hips. Your arms wound around his waist, your fingers sliding on the muscles of his back as he worked you. And his body was filled with tension. He was holding back and you appreciated it. While it was starting to feel nice, the pain was still underneath it.

Steve was tense in your arms, his cock inside you feeling like silk-covered steel stretching your walls. Burying his face in your neck, he seared your skin with hot kisses as his lower body moved. His grip on you was just shy of painful as he sped up.

“Not going to last long,” he said low by your ear, his fingers easing between your bodies to tease the center of your pleasure with strokes that were too light, too gentle. Your pussy clenched around him as your nails carved into his back. “Want you to come while I'm inside you… want to feel it on my cock.”

Steve’s movements got faster. It was a purgatory of pleasure and pain that you couldn’t escape. The wave that was coming for you was different from what you felt before. The intensity held you captive as surely as Steve’s body did. Your hands slid down to his ass, pumping into you with force now. When release hit you, your cries filled the room and your eyes squeezed shut.

Steve growled when he came, caging you to the bed and tightening his hold on you until you couldn’t move or breathe until he was spent. Both of you panted, Steve lifted himself from you after a moment, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

More kisses, whisper-soft, on your eyelids, your lips. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

You opened your eyes, but the edges of your vision were still black. Steve’s gaze moved over your face, concern obvious there. You nodded. The flesh wrapped around him ached, burned.

When he pulled out of you, you hissed. Glancing at where your bodies had been joined, Steve winced. Carefully, he pulled off the condom he’d used. There was blood on his hand.

“Don’t move,” he whispered.

Hustling off to his bathroom, there was a sight you could appreciate because his ass looked as good as it had felt under your hands, Steve disappeared for just a moment. When he returned, he was wrapped in a black robe, a gray washcloth in his hand. You tried to grab it from him, but he wouldn’t have it, cleaning you up so gently.

“I could run a bath for you,” he offered once he was done, traces of guilt in his tired smile.

You shook your head. “Just want to sleep,” you mumbled.

Nodding, he turned out the lamps by his bed and peeled off the robe, climbing back into his bed with you. You liked his warmth, willing to snuggle up against him when he pulled you into his arms.

Steve pressed a kiss in your hair. “Goodnight, Mrs. Rogers.”

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Do we have to?” you grumbled.

Steve just laughed at that. “What am I going to do with you?”

Something told you he had many ideas.

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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nah man i cant come over tomorrow im gonna listen to songs and think about characters. yeah no its gonna be all day

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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the only valid form of cardio is riding dick

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hoeforbucko · 3 years ago

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Say, Mob!Steve or just dark!Steve takes the reader and at first it's all brutal but then he falls for her. How do you think she would react when his love triggers her own feelings? Loving someone who hurt you 👀

Title: Condemned to Him

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: It’s hard to love someone you were meant to hate. But Steve doesn’t care, and he will have your love no matter how much you deny it.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Hate sex, smut, past non-con mentioned, kidnapping implied, dubious consent, possessiveness, implied forced marriage, mentions of violence and guns, angst, reader in third person pov, 18+ ONLY

A/N: I have never written from a character’s first person pov before, and phew, it is was a little much. For all those waiting for my Halloween fics, I am afraid you’re gonna have to wait longer. I lost my muse there for a while.

My mother told me that death is the ultimate peace. Everyone dies, one day so will I, but until the time that never ending embrace came for me, I lived my life with little regrets. At lease I did, as of a couple months ago. Now I stare at her, watching the way she dipped her pinky into the ketchup only to lick it, sometimes tracing random swirls with it on her plate. She hasn’t looked at me, not once in nearly two weeks.

I think again that my mother was a wise woman, but she never thought I’d be stupid enough to die this way. Because that is what she does to me. She is killing me, every damn day, a tiny bit everyday the more she stays silent, the more she refuses to meet my eyes. It’s ironically fitting. There is no peace in my life without her, and she is the one who would bring me death. I won’t get peace in death; I will get death by peace.

“I can cook you something else if you don’t like this.” I said, trying once more to get her attention. She doesn’t even react. I know she hates what is on her plate, but she pointedly picked up her spoon and took in a mouthful. Right now, I feel as if she’d rather drink poison than look at me.

Sighing, I try to reach across the table to her, my hand an inch away from hers when she quickly got up and dumped her leftovers in the trash, walking away without a look behind her back. No one shows me their back, not unless they want a bullet in it. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t fear me anymore.

If there is one thing she knows, it is that I will not hurt her. Never again, not after I lost my heart to her so tragically that Shakespeare would pay me good money to have an opportunity to write about it.

Give her space, that is what they told me. But space from what? How? I cannot stop loving her, I cannot stop myself from crawling in the bed beside her, staring at her face bathed in moonlight. She can hate me, she can even kill me, but she cannot leave me. I wouldn’t let her.

My fingers slide slowly over the few inches that separate us, gently landing on her shoulder. She was awake, I knew she was, and her body became rigid. It had been more than a month since I fucked her, nearly two weeks since I last touched her. With the way her skin came alive with goose bumps, I know she missed my touch too. If I was a slave to my heart, she was a slave to her body. She couldn’t help craving my touch any more than I could stop craving her heart.

I pulled her close, rolling on top of her and groaning quietly at her eyes that lay stubbornly closed. My lips press softly against one, and then the other, feeling her eyelashes fluttering against my mouth. Her breath hitched, fingers twisting into the sheets, and I cursed her for keeping herself from me. She wants me, and I am here to give her everything.

Please God, just let her look at me.

I kiss down her face, tracing the curve of her shoulder and neck and the soft swell of her chest, reveling in the softest whines she let escape. Her body was clenched tight, like a snake coiled tight and ready to attack only she relaxed with every touch of my lips. I pushed away the flimsy robe from her body, the one she still wore to bed. Maybe it was habit, most probably it was torture. I could see her, but I couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t taste her.

But she didn’t stop me today. I bathed her in my tongue, relishing her taste and feel, fingers digging into her flesh to reclaim the body that I had stolen. I wasn’t gentle the first night I took her. She had cried under me, pleading to be let go as I satiated my appetite inside her. She didn’t want me then, and I didn’t love her then. But now, she wanted me, and I loved her. But there was only silence.

Please God, just let her say my name.

The moment I entered her, her eyes snapped open and she raised them heavenwards to glare at the monster up there, probably telling him to fuck off for letting me get to her. I filled her perfectly, and her hands twitched until she lost the battle and wrapped them around me. Her neck was tilted to stop the temptation of facing me. And I let her have her dignity by burying my face in her breast and breathing hard as I thrust inside her.

It was so gentle, and I knew she hated it. Her entire body trembled as I touched her like a lover, coaxing her to open up. She once told me that she’d rather take my bullet than my heart, but I was a man rarely denied. I forced her to take my love, forced it into the marks of my teeth that littered her collar bone and the mouth hands that worshiped her and the lips that formed her name with every passing second.

She was close, I could tell. Her thighs shook and nails dug hard into my shoulders and the moment she came, I knew what would happen. Love was about letting go, about relaxing in its embrace. She snapped. Her eyes flew to mine and filled with rage, and she clawed like a tigress. I was prepared for her fight, prepared to see her eyes narrowed in hatred and I reveled in it.

I could take her bitterness; I could take every scar she ever gave me as long at those eyes were locked with mine in the battle of wills and hearts. She cried, fighting hard the way she knows I like, and my lips curled into a smile, hips hammering harder, causing her to wince and curse but retaliate with more vigor. The ring on her hand, the one I had forced there, cut across my cheek as she slapped me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Let her cut me open and wring me dry of the last drop of blood as long as she was mine. As long as she stayed under me like this and called me words that no one dared say to me at my face. I held her strong, fucking her so hard that I know she hurt for real. But the tears that slipped past her eyes weren’t those of physically agony. When I had stolen her body, she used to cry with pain. Now that I am stealing her soul, she cries because of loss.

I am as battered as her abused hole, her fingers tangled in my hair that she tried best to uproot. But as angry as she was, the wetness that slicked between her legs gave her away. She didn’t stop me. She hurt me, but she didn’t stop me. One word from her and I would have. Between us, she has all the power, but she takes my lust and my need and my love and throws back her anger and disgust at me, poorly concealing the feelings that she reciprocated inside her very being.

I pitied her then, because I would hate it too if my captor turned out to be my pardoner, if the villain I was sworn to hate wore a shining armour and became my hero. I made her fall for me, and she could hate me for it, but she would still love me. I made sure of it.

The moment she begins to close her eyes I grab her face hard, grunting as I pushed into her struggling body with enough force to bruise both of us. Our hearts were already broken, so some bones wouldn’t hurt as much.

“Don’t look away. Not now.”

I am begging, pleading, ordering, praying, everything and nothing as she looks at me and falls apart. I push away as she arches her back and shakes in pleasure, my mouth finding her cunt and diving in until her shrieks are heard by God and Satan and angels and demons who all stop to watch us burn. My tongue sweeps inside and flicks until she cums again, trying to pull away from my mouth unsuccessfully that keeps up until she is sobbing and cuming once more.

She lays limp on her bed, the fight fucked out of her as I enter her once more and take her harder and faster and with more love than either of us knows what to do with. I release inside, marking her as mine and holding her close, ignoring the blood that leaks down the cuts that she inflicted on me. I would put a dagger in my own heart to see her smile.

Please God, let her smile again.

“Steve.” She says, and my heart freezes before burning again because I never thought she would say my name again. It tastes like poison to her, and she only spits it out. But now, she sobs. “Why cannot you let me hate you in peace?”

I want to. I want to give her everything she ever wants. I want to give her my gun and ask her to point it at me and end her suffering. Mine too. But I love her so much. And I love her so selfishly. She was mine, and her every breath was mine. We could spend the rest of our lives fighting, with her clawing at me and me chasing her when she tries to run, but we will spend it together.

Because she was here to stay. She was my heart. My true heart. The one inside my chest could shrivel up and die but she would live and beat and thrive, and as long as she did, so would I. I didn’t know how to leave her alone.

“I will let you strangle me right now.” I promise her, pulling her broken body close. “I would let you take out the last dregs of your hate and rage on me, right here, right now, if you promise to love and mourn me for the rest of your life. For your love, I would die.”

This night, she doesn’t sleep with her back to me. Her head is on my chest, and I wonder what she is thinking. Maybe counting my heartbeats. Or maybe contemplating how to stop them.

I don’t care. As long as she is mine, as long as I have her here with me, I will survive.

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