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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 20, Uninhibited - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, drug use, dirty dancing, questionable choices.

Word Count: 3.1k

Previously On...: You're still throwing up :(

A/N: BRING ON THE BAD DECISIONS!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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"How do I look?" you asked Wanda and Nat as you came out of your bathroom in your outfit for the party. When Tony had told you your party was going to be 90s themed, you'd been over the moon, since the last time you had a birthday party was probably actually in the 90s. Yes, you'd all gone out for drinks and dancing when you turned 21, and then for a fancy dinner when you turned 30, but it was the first time you'd actually given in to Tony's pleading to let him throw you an actual party, and he was pulling out all the stops, so you wanted to make sure you looked your best. And if looking your best happened to stick it to a certain super soldier, well, that was just a bonus.

"Oh my God," said Nat at the same time Wanda whispered "Holy shit." You were wearing a black leather mini skirt with thigh-high boots and a navy and silver handkerchief top that barely covered your tits. You'd curled your long hair into loose, beachy waves and Nat had done your makeup.

"You look like a fucking seductress," Nat nodded in appreciation.

"Barnes is not going to know what hit him," Wanda concurred.

"If Barnes knows what's good for him," you replied, putting in a pair of large silver hoop earrings and checking out how they looked in the mirror, "he won't even show up tonight. Besides, I only have two goals for the evening: Celebrating my birthday with my best friends and; Getting over one man by getting under another one."

"Amen to that!" Nat cheered, raising a glass of pre-game champagne Tony had delivered to your suite. "Tonight, you flirt with anything that has a penis." Catching Wanda's pointed expression, she added "Anything that has a penis that is not already committed to another vagina." Wanda smiled appreciatively.

"Please, Natty" you said, grabbing your own glass of champagne and toasting with her, "tonight, I'm flirting with anything that has a pulse."

"That's my girl!" Nat wrapped an arm around you and squeezed. You would have fun tonight, Bucky Barnes be damned.

You could hear the thumping of the bass long before you reached the doors of the banquet hall. The party was already in full swing. Before you entered, though, Nat grabbed onto your elbow and palmed something into your hand.

"Happy Birthday, Pocket," she said with a wink, before letting you go and allowing you to open your palm. Nestled inside was a small, white pill.

"Nat!" hissed Wanda as loudly as she could to be heard over the bass, "did you just hand Pocket drugs?!"

"Relax, Wanda," Nat said, rubbing the other girl's arm. Turning to you, she added "It's just some molly. Take it if Barnes shows up and you need to manufacture yourself a bit more fun, that's all." And she threw you a wink. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad."

"Thanks, Natty, but, if anything," you said with a smile, putting the little pill in your pocket in case you needed it later, "Tony'll be pissed you didn't bring enough for the whole class." You hoped you weren't going to need it, but it was rather comforting having it on hand. You hadn't done MDMA in years, and the idea of taking it again was thrilling.

"Fine," said Wanda, and you could both tell she wasn't thrilled with your actions. "Let's just go inside and have a good time, okay?" The three of you linked arms and made your way through the doors to the banquet hall.

It had been positively transformed. Usually, it was the place where Tony held his fancy dinners for visiting heads of state who wanted a look at what the Avengers did all day, tonight it had become a rave out of a fairy tale. There were bubble machines sending cascades of multi-colored bubbles through the air, everyone dancing with glow-sticks, and a DJ booth hung suspended from the ceiling. Tony had brought in what you suspected were real trees and had decked them out with twinkling fairy lights; there was even a fountain in the middle of the dance floor. It was something straight out of your dreams.

The room was crawling with hundreds of people. Most of them you vaguely recognized as people who worked in various positions in the Tower, some old colleagues from Stark Industries, and friends from outside of work, but scattered throughout were the members of your family. You spotted Clint and Laura dancing together in a corner of the dance floor while Nirvana's About a Girl blared, Sam flirting with three different women at the same time, and Thor over by the bar with Steve, a bottle of Asgardian liquor being passed around between them. Maria Hill was sitting in a lounge chair talking with Helen Cho and Vision. You were pleased to see neither Bucky nor Jade in your initial sweep of the room. With any luck, they wouldn’t have the balls to show their faces.

"This is incredible," you murmured, though you were sure neither of your friends heard you over the roar of the music. No one had noticed you'd arrived just yet, so you took the moment of anonymity to just soak it all in. Tony and Pepper had done all of this for you. You couldn't think about it for too long, or you would start to cry right there. They weren't connected to you by blood, but they loved you better than your real family ever had, and you were struck with an overwhelming surge of gratitude and appreciation for them both.

"Oh no!" Nat shouted over to Wanda. "She's getting misty-eyed! We need to get her a drink, STAT!"

You laughed as your two best friends dragged you to the bar. As you entered the throng, people began converging on you, wishing you a Happy Birthday and giving you more hugs than you'd probably ever received in your entire life. It was impossible to not feel the absolute love that came from everyone around you. You nearly toppled over when Wanda pointed out the giant table of presents that sat, waiting for you, in the far corner of the room. Never in your entire life had you felt so appreciated, and coming on the heels of how Bucky had discarded you, you felt your heart soar with love for all of these amazing people.

At the bar, you caught the attention of Thor and Steve, the latter doing a double take at the sight of you. Thor immediately enveloped you in a bear hug, his massive arms dwarfing your body as he picked you up.

"Happy Birthday, my Lady Pocket," he bellowed, planting a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek. "I would offer you some of my Asgardian mead in celebration, but I fear it would be far too potent for your tiny human body to handle. I would not want to be responsible for your death on this day we celebrate your life."

"Thanks, Thor," you said as he finally put you back down, "I'm fine with good old Earth alcohol tonight."

The bartender handed you a frozen drink without your asking. "It's tonight's signature cocktail," he responded to your confused expression. "The Plum Pocket." Your face soured. The Plum Pocket was a drink you'd invented for Bucky months and months ago. Half of a plum because he loved the taste of them so much, strawberries, (because you loved them), raspberry liquor, lemon syrup, vodka, and a bit of sugar blended with ice into an almost smoothie-like consistency, with some lemon zest for garnish. How would Tony even know about them?

No, you were not going to think about Bucky Barnes tonight. You were going to enjoy your drink, dance, and get your flirt on. In that order. There was no room on tonight's agenda for wallowing in self pity over someone who didn't give a shit about you enough to keep his dick in his pants.

You took a sip. It was damned delicious.

"Hey," a soft voice spoke to you over your shoulder. You turned and looked up into Steve's face. His eyes were slightly glassy.

"Enjoying that Asgardian mead, Cap?" you asked with a teasing grin.

He smiled, a flush creeping up his cheeks at being called out. "Happy Birthday, Pocket. I um... I wanted to tell you, you look really pretty tonight."

The compliment took you aback. You didn't think Steve had ever complimented you on your looks before. He must be far more drunk than you first thought. "Thanks, Steve," you responded with a smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

Before you could say anything else to him, there was a drop in the music, and a spotlight lit up Tony Stark in the DJ booth, dressed in his full Iron Man glory.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, and the handful of people who accidentally wandered in from the fury convention," Tony began, his amplified voice carrying over the crowd, "welcome to the party of the century! I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate someone very special to me, to all of us. She's like the kid sister I never wanted, in that now that I've got her, I couldn't get rid of her even if I tried." The crowd laughed and you hid your face in your hands. "Fortunately, I like having her around too much. She's got a brilliant mind, she's funny as hell, and she's the beating heart of this team. Without her, the Avengers would just be a group of coworkers, and not a family. And let's be honest, she's one of the few people who's willing to tolerate me on a daily basis." Somehow, his eyes were able to find yours in the crowd and he gave you a classic Tony wink; you blew him a kiss back. "So, everyone, please raise a glass to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or as we like to call her, our own little Pocket! Pocket, Happy Birthday, kiddo! We love you! So, everyone, grab a drink, don't hold back on the dance floor, because, let's face it, I spent a fortune on hiring the best DJ in New York City, and let's make some bad decisions! Except for you, Parker. Jesus is watching."

Through the crowd you could just make out Peter's soft voice saying "Aw, come on Mr. Stark," and you broke into laughter. God, you loved these people.

"Let's go," said Nat, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to the middle of the dance floor, "it's time to dance!"

The beats were dirty and your body responded to them like a siren's call, your hips moving subconsciously to the rhythm. Dancing was one of your favorite ways to lose yourself, and so you did, melting into the sound, letting your body take you wherever it needed to go. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively knew it was Natasha behind you.

"Bruce not coming out to the floor?" you whisper-shouted into her ear as she moved her body against yours.

"No, he's being a dullard," Nat responded with a sigh.

"Give him time," you told her knowingly. "Once he's been watching you move your ass out here long enough, he'll cave just so he can get his hands on you. He always does."

"I know," she said, grinding her chest against your back, "but I do love giving him a show."

You laughed and continued dancing with your friend. You knew Bruce would come to her eventually. The poor man couldn't stay away, no matter how hard he'd tried in the beginning.

Slowly, the members of your little family found their way to you on the dance floor, and you were all dancing together in a group. Even Bruce had gotten over himself and had finally joined Natasha, who was now running her hands along his chest.

You had to admit, you were having the time of your life.

But then you saw them.

Bucky stood at the bar, Jade not far away. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but his eyes were boring a hole straight through you, and he looked amazing. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and the shirt you had gotten him last Christmas, the one that matched the color of his eyes. He'd cut his hair again, just the length you liked it-- the perfect length for pulling while he had his face buried between your-- No. You were NOT going to think about that.

Wanda had moved away from where she'd been dancing with Vision and came over to you, following the line of your eyes. "He has a lot of fucking nerve showing up here with her," she spat. "Do you want me to kick them out of here for you, love?"

You turned and wrapped your arms around her, smiling at her fierce protectiveness of you. "As much as I would love to see it, Wan, it's okay. I think I just want to pretend he doesn't exist and keep dancing. The last thing I need is them ruining my party by bringing more drama into my life."

Wanda put a hand on your elbow and shrugged, then leaned in to whisper "Suit yourself, but my offer still stands if you change your mind," before heading back over to Vision. You sighed, disappointed that the sight of him had dulled your excitement for the evening. But then you remembered Nat's gift.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the tiny pill. You considered your options for half a second before tossing it into your mouth and swallowing it. You were not going to let Bucky Fucking Barnes ruin your birthday.

A couple of hours later, after an enormous cake had been brought out, everyone singing to you and you blowing out your candles, you were feeling positively euphoric. Everything felt amazing. You were so in love with every single person in the room, you could cry. Your limbs were buzzing, as if the music was vibrating through them and your entire body was being poured full of liquid joy. You were connected to everyone. They were all a part of you, and you were a part of them.

You moved to the music, your hands caressing up and down your body, the sensation of touch almost overpowering in its intensity. You practically moaned when Natasha leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"Don't look now, but Steve's been staring at you for the last twenty minutes." You glanced over and noticed the super soldier standing at the bar next to Bucky, but in the clarity of the MDMA, Steve was all you could see. He was watching you intently, his eyes locked on the movement of your hips. You watched him lick his lips as your hands brushed across your chest, sending a wave of shivering pleasure through your body.

You didn't know why, but suddenly, it seemed like a really, really good idea to have Steve come dance with you, so you caught his eye and beckoned him over with a curl of your finger.

You laughed when you saw his eyes grow wide with surprise. He pointed at himself, as if he couldn't believe you were beckoning to him. You nodded and, chugging the rest of his drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar, he made his way to you.

"Hi," he said over the sound of the music when he was standing in front of you. God, he was so much taller than you were. Like a giant. Sublime's Badfish began to play.

"Hi," you hummed, the feelings of ecstasy pulsating through you. "Do you want to dance with me?" You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Very much," he said, so softly that you wouldn't have been able to make it out if you hadn't read his lips. "But I don't really know how to dance to this music."

"I can teach you," you smiled up at him. Turning around, you put your back to his chest. Grabbing his left arm, you wrapped it across your bare stomach, splaying his fingers across your scorching skin. You put his right hand on your hip and let out a soft moan when he squeezed your flesh.

"Just move with me," you whispered, knowing that his enhanced hearing would catch your words through all the extra noise. Your entire body was pressed against his now, and the feeling of his hard muscles against you was sensational. You never wanted him to stop touching you. You slowly started grinding your hips against him, laughing a little when you heard him gasp. He began sliding his hand across your stomach, once or twice brushing the underside of your breasts with his thumb. Each touch was like a wave of light pulsating through you and you craved it. You could feel the length of his semi-hard erection pressing into your back, and somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, the idea of it surprised and concerned you, but in your current state, all you could do was feel. And you felt so. god. damned. good.

You leaned your head back against his chest, reaching back to grab a hold of his bicep and exposing the curve of your neck, and when he reached down and began planting small butterfly kisses where your neck met your shoulder, you thought you were going to come undone right there.

"You're so beautiful, Pocket," he whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. Everything he did, everywhere your bodies connected, felt like pure magic.

You noticed the looks that you were getting from Nat, Wanda, and the others, but you didn't register them. The only thing that mattered right now was how good you felt, how good Steve was making you feel.

You weren't sure how much time went by. The songs changed, your tempo fluctuated, the people around you came and went, but the contact remained the same.

Finally, you turned yourself around in his arms, pressing your chest to his. He looked down at you, the blue of his eyes a mere ring around the black of his pupils.

"Stevie," you whispered, your voice husky, "will you take me back to my room?"

His lips curled up in a wicked grin and for the briefest of moments, you saw Bucky in your mind's eye, but you quickly shook the image away. Steve took you by the hand and, without another word, led you away from the party to the solitude of your bedroom.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Rolling in the Deep

Prequel to Make You Feel My Love

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, blood, miscarriage. Warnings may not be exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

Summary: You try to get out.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: Please leave any thoughts or comments or reblogs or anything you like!

You take the suitcase out of the closet. Already packed, waiting, ready to go at just the right time. That moment has come. Bucky’s gone. A mission out of the country.

It’s not just the bag. You have a plan. You’ll leave your phone there. When you get downtown, you’ll find a public bathroom to do a sweep of your clothing for any other trackers. You have cross-country tickets. You don’t need a passport for those, it will be harder for him to find you.

You’ll disembark at a midway point and do something about your hair. A change that obscures your trail. From there, you’ll take a bus and buy a train ticket at the first major city. You just need to lose yourself in the shuffle of life outside your tiny world.

You check the pouch strapped around your stomach. Cash. Enough to get you far away. You’ll figure it out from there. You lift the bag and near the door. You hold your breath. The house is ominously silent. The only witness to your flight.

You look out into the hall. You take a breath and carry the compact luggage cautiously along, steps softened by the long runner rug. Your hand goes to your stomach. It’ll be okay. You’re almost there. You just need to get outside.

As you near the top of the staircase, a shadow appears in the doorway closest to you. You take a step back, stunned by the unexpected figure. No. No. It can’t be. You know you can’t lie, he can hear your heartbeat.

“Steve,” you gasp and drop the bag.

You stand in a deadlock, you caught and him knowing. You swallow and repeat his name again. He tuts and puts his hand on the door frame.

“Why?” He utters. You should ask the same. Bucky’s little lap dog, his left hand, another enabler.

“You know why…” you say crisply.

He rolls his eyes and steps into the hall. You flinch as he grabs your arm. You wriggle and try to rip yourself away. You know it’s futile but your pride makes you fight.

“You’re going to let him hurt me. Again,” you sneer as he marches you backward.

He doesn’t respond as he nearly bowls you over. He gives a small shove so you stumble back into the bedroom. You catch your balance and stare at him. You knew before you tried it wouldn’t work. You don’t even know why you put so much effort in.

“You ask for it,” Steve grabs the door and snaps it shut.

You rush forward and hit the wood. You holler through it as you bring your fist against it, over and over, “Steve. You’re not like him. You can let me go. You can save me. Aren’t you supposed to save people… Captain?”

His footfalls pause not far from the other side. A sigh puffs loudly and he clears his throat. He continues on, the stairs groaning beneath his descent. You back up and cradle your stomach, the bump hidden by the loose fabric. I’m sorry, you look down at your shirt, I wanted better for you.

💔

Dread. That emotion has coloured much of your relationship with Bucky.

At first, that dread that this man with the dreamy blue eyes and chiseled jaw wouldn’t like you.

Dread again when you sat on the cusp of your wedding day, stressing about everything that could go wrong.

And when it all went wrong and it was the fear of his temper, of his fist. Of how you might unwittingly bring out the worst of him. That part of himself you didn’t see until the last day of your honeymoon.

Now you wallow in it. You sit against the door, waiting. This is it. You know this doesn’t end well for you. You knew that when you packed the suitcase.

The dread twists in your chest, threatening to choke you as you hear movement below. The front door and the exchange of low voices. Silence, and then the unmistakable, discernible trad of his step. You know it anywhere, you’ve learned to listen for it, to recognise it.

You will not face this on your knees. You stand and face the door. You try to shake out your fear but that you cannot escape as much as you could not get away from this man. You take a deep breath as his slow progress creaks down the hallway, his weight shifting down the floorboards.

You stare at the handle as it turns, the lock sliding back. No one would ever know it but if they did, they would indeed think it rather odd that the lock is on the outside. They might even guess why.

You’re speechless and Bucky looks much the same. You see the anger pulsing in his forehead as his glare scalds you. As it all boils under the surface ready to bubble over. He is just deciding how he’ll let it come out. His lip twitches and his hand balls to a fist. Words or force, it doesn’t matter.

“Why can’t you just let me go?” You whisper.

His blue eyes flare and he takes a step forward. You retreat on your heels and he stops short. He sways as a shadow of hurt washes over his features.

“Why don’t you love me?” He grits.

You shake your head and cross your arms, “that’s the problems, Bucky, I do love you.”

He sighs, a deep exhale akin to a growl. His gaze falls and wanders over to the dresser. You wince as he stomps towards it and rips open the top drawer. It’s empty. He slams it and you cower as he faces you again.

“It’s true,” he sneers, “you were going to leave.”

You hang your head. Does he not see that you have no other option? That he has left you with no other choice. It is your life or no life at all. Whether you stayed or not, it would end like that.

“You–” he snarls and you cry out as he seizes the back of your neck.

He moves fast, faster than you can. You untangle your arms and reach back to claw at his forearm. He marches you down the hall as your feet bounce off the floor clumsily. You whine as his fingers curl into the tendons of your neck.

“Bucky, please, you’re hurting me–”

“You hurt me!” He hollers as he urges you to the top of the stairs.

“I… I never wanted to–”

“That’s all you’ve ever done,” he barks into your hair, sending hot breaths across your scalp. “You want to leave me? After all I did for you? After I loved you?”

“Bucky, I was scared–”

“Of what? I’ve protected you!”

“You!” Your squeeze his wrist as his metal fingers threaten to crush down to your spine, “I am terrified of you–”

“So you want to leave? You don’t want to talk?” He hisses as he pushes his head next to yours.

You look down the stairs as he hovers you on the top step. Your toes hang over the edge. You keep one hand on his forearm, the other clinging to the post beside you.

“I tried–”

“You want to go,” he snaps, swallowing loudly, “then… go.”

The last words are a gravelly whisper. He shoves you, throwing you off the step as you fall without obstacle. Your arms flail as he lets you go, as you try to catch yourself on anything. There is only air and then the harsh devastating crack of the first stair.

Your knees hit first and you shield your head against your uncontrollable plummet. Your chest hits next and you go ass over head, twisting around to bounce on your side, rolling and bumping over each step. Your foot flies out, hitting the banister as you hit the bottom and catches between the columns, the wood wrench your leg in the socket.

You stop, one leg bent unnaturally up as your foot stays hooked in the railing. Your breaths rattle as you lay strewn and broken. Agony coils around every part of you, burning most hotly at the base of your spine.

Bucky descends, a step at a time, each echoing ominously over you as you gulp and gasp for air. He looms over you and clicks his tongue as he bends to look you in the face.

“You fell, baby,” he shakes his head, “it’s a goddamn tragedy.”

You feel a churning in your pelvis, a hot pain in your stomach that makes you want to puke. You groan, vision speckling as you struggle just to lift a single finger. You close your eyes and shudder.

“Bucky…” you rest your hand over your stomach, “...the baby.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #prequel #drabble #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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captainsophiestark · 3 months ago

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Oldies And Goodies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Bucky's not a fan of modern dating conventions, until Sam sets him up on a date with a good friend who shows him the potential of the modern world.

Word Count: 1,543

Category: Fluff

A/N: To the anon who sent me an idea outline for this, I hope you like it! It got merged with another idea I had, but hopefully, it's still pretty close to what you had in mind :) Thanks for continuing to read stuff for Grant Ward and enabling me to keep writing him- he's my fave, so I'm glad I have at least a few people to share the love with!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

My eyes scanned the restaurant, trying to make out Bucky through the dim lighting. After a moment, I caught sight of him at a table by the window. I smiled and started heading his way. As soon as he noticed me, he shared my smile and stood to greet me. Always the perfect gentleman. My heart skipped a beat, and I made a mental note to make Sam some cookies or something as a thank you.

Sam Wilson, a good friend of mine even before he'd taken up the superhero mantle, had recently introduced me to the second supersoldier out of time that he'd befriended. Bucky Barnes, the reformed Winter Soldier, was a little different than the Man With A Plan Steve Rogers, but he'd been different in a way that I liked. We'd hit it off pretty well, and with a some meddling from Sam, we'd set up a date within a few weeks of first meeting each other.

I'd spent an hour and a half making sure my outfit looked just right and trying to convince my nerves to calm the hell down. It was just a first date, with someone I was already friendly with. And I knew Sam wouldn't steer me wrong. Tonight was going to be fun.

Once I got close enough to the table, Bucky pulled a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back, holding them out to me with a lopsided smile. I gasped, taking them from him with a slightly disbelieving look.

"I've been told the flowers are a little old fashioned, but... it seemed like the right way to go," he said. I gave a little laugh, taking a moment to smell the roses (literally) before beaming back at Bucky.

"I love them," I said. His shoulders seemed to relax a little, the smile spreading to cover the rest of his face as he took a few steps closer to me.

"I'm glad. Here, let me get your chair."

He pulled my chair back from the table, gesturing for me to sit down. I nodded my thanks, trying to ignore the butterflies exploding in my chest as he scooted the chair back in for me like it was nothing. I gently laid the roses down on the table as he took his seat across from me again.

"Thanks for finding this place," I said, scanning the restaurant to take in the ambiance this time, instead of just searching for Bucky. "It's... really nice."

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, huffing a small laugh. "Honestly, I'm... a little out of my depth here. A lot's changed since the last time I asked somebody on a date."

"Well, for what it's worth, you've been doing pretty damn well so far."

We shared a smile, but then a silence settled over us that wasn't entirely comfortable. As much as this night seemed perfect, I couldn't help agreeing with Bucky. This place wasn't totally my scene, and I was starting to feel a little out of my depth, too.

"So..." I said, taking a deep breath and meeting Bucky's eyes again. "What exactly did dates look like back in the 1940s? One of the handful of times I talked to Steve, he said you set up a pretty cool double date to... some kind of expo?"

Bucky's eyes fell to the table even as his mouth pulled up in a smile. He nodded, talking as much to himself as to me.

"Yeah. Despite how it ended, I was always pretty proud of the Stark Expo one. We got to see a car fly long before any of that should've been possible. Walking around, looking at all the exhibits and experiments... honestly, it was incredible." He looked back up at me, the soft smile still in place. "Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of major, groundbreaking expos happening tonight for us to swing by."

"Damn. That would've been fun," I said, gently reaching across the table to take Bucky's hand in my own. I bit my lip, then looked up at him with a smile. "You know, Steve also said you're kind of a nerd."

Bucky snorted. Clearly, that's not what he'd been expecting me to say. He shook his head, but when he looked back at me, he had a smile on his face.

"Steve's got quite a few stories of his own that he should keep in mind when he says things like that."

"Well..." I took a deep breath, hardening my own resolve. Bucky and I were friends, and for whatever reason, this restaurant didn't feel right for either of us. I needed to trust him and our relationship so far, rather than pretending for norms or anybody else's approval. "Look, I don't know about you, but... this restaurant is lovely, but not exactly my usual vibe."

Bucky sighed, shaking his head and pulling his hand out of mine.

"I know, it's not really mine either. I just-"

"Hold on. I have an idea for a solution that might suit us both. And I think it'll be super fun."

Bucky stared at me for a few moments appraisingly, the faintest ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

"You know, I'm not used to letting the other person plan the date. But I guess I can make an exception."

I grinned. "Good. Because I have an idea that didn't exist in the 40s, but is the kind of modern thing I think you'll be able to get behind. You trust me?"

"...Yeah, I do."

"Good." I took Bucky's hand, grabbed my roses, then stood from the table. "Then follow me."

****************

"...and in the original, Gollum volunteered the ring as a prize for Bilbo winning the riddle contest!"

I beamed at my date as he raised out of his chair, the few beers we'd had and his passion for Tolkien pushing him to make his point loudly after being called on for the bonus question of this round of trivia. The host grinned, ringing a bell and pointing at Bucky.

"Aaaaand that's correct! Mark that down as three points for Oldies and Goodies! Hang tight everybody while we update the scoring, and we'll be back with our final round in ten minutes."

With that, the bar dissolved into chatter again as everyone went their separate ways for the break in trivia. Bucky settled back down into his seat with a sigh, then carefully cut his eyes towards me.

"So... was that a dealbreaker for you?"

I laughed. "Are you kidding? You got us three points, all while schooling the rest of the bar on some nerdy shit! It was hot."

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head even as a smile stayed in place on his face.

"Alright, I've done a lot of complaining to Sam about how much dating's changed since I last did it, but I'll admit... I like this."

I grinned. "I'm glad. And for the record, I like it too. As far as I'm concerned, being able to have fun and kick ass at bar trivia with someone is one of the best green flags there is."

"Well, good. Because that table over there is right behind us in the points, and after they shouted out the worst string of horseshit about the Hobit I've ever heard with complete confidence, there's no way I'm letting us lose to them."

"Hell yeah! I'll go grab us another round, and then we'll make them wish they'd never come to this trivia night."

I jumped down from my seat and started heading past Bucky to the bar, but he caught my arm before I could get very far, his expression more serious than I'd seen it all night.

"Hey. Thanks. For getting a round of beer, for agreeing to come out with me tonight, for bringing us here... it's the best time I've had in a while, and you've been pretty much the entire reason for that. So thank you."

I smiled, my heart speeding up in my chest as I took a half-step closer to Bucky and softly kissed him on the cheek before leaning back.

"You're welcome. Thanks for being willing to try out something as new and chaotic as bar trivia. Maybe we could even make it a weekly thing?"

Bucky beamed back at me. "Sweetheart, I would love that."

"Okay, good. Then start getting ready for the next round, because if we're coming back here next week, I want it to be in defense of our title. This is the beginning of the trivia power couple Oldies and Goodies."

"I like the sound of that," Bucky said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned into me a little. I smiled, and he pulled me into his side, squeezing me tight before letting me go so I could get us both another round.

My dopey smile stayed on my face even as I got to the bar. I'd always had butterflies in my chest when I was around Bucky, but now, it was more than that. Being around him made me happy. I felt comfortable, and I didn't want the night to end. And luckily for me, he apparently felt the same way.

Destroying our enemies at trivia was just the beginning for us. And with no ending in sight, I truly couldn't wait to see what came next.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

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luna-rainbow · 2 years ago

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Digging this out of my old drafts:

There is a strange poetic parallel (or poetic irony, depending on your point of view) in what Peggy says to Steve as he mourns Bucky, and what Steve says back to her when she pleads with him not to tank the plane.

Peggy: It wasn't your fault. Steve: (If you read the report) You know that's not true. Peggy: Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him? Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice.

Peggy: Please don't do this. We have time. We can work it out. Steve: (...) Peggy, this is my choice.

I mean, firstly, this is textual proof that Bucky's last act was a conscious choice to protect Steve. Secondly, the bitter irony of that line once you take into consideration what follows - of Hydra, enabled by SHIELD, stripping away the dignity of Bucky's choice (as well as his ability to make a choice).

But Steve's pointed wording is...interesting. Even in the kindest of readings, he is using her own words against her. During a time when she's upset and vulnerable, he uses the exact words she gave him when he was upset and vulnerable. "Give me the dignity of my choice," he tells her while dismissing her appeal to consider other options.

And it makes me wonder what exactly did Steve feel when Peggy said that to him. Bucky didn't board the train planning to die, and he didn't protect Steve with the intention to die. Death was a risk, but it was far from the explicit choice that Steve was making here which (as far as he was concerned) equated to certain death.

Had it really been a comfort to Steve to hear that Bucky should be the one to take the brunt of the responsibility as "the dignity of his choice"? When that hadn't been the explicit choice he made? Did those words really serve to alleviate his guilt when both of them knew the only reason Bucky made the choice was for him?

In the end, Steve wasn't allowed the dignity of his choice when he woke up in the 21st century...and he would learn, to his horror, neither was Bucky.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #anti peggy carter #stucky #meta

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questionableratatouille00 · 5 months ago

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ʟᴏɴɢ, ꜱᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛᴇ, ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

Pairing: Sambucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes)

Summary: Maybe those vacations aren’t long or separate.

Bingo Fill: ‘Long, Separate Vacations’ on my ‘Vacation’ card for @sambuckylibrary’s sambucky summer bingo!

Warnings: none!

Bucky shut the door, fully intending to stay in his apartment for the next however many years he would be alive. He wiped at his wet eyes, then at his slightly wet nose. He’d fully ruined the only relationship he’d had—and even the potential one he could’ve had. He knew Yori would never want anything to do with him ever again.

He wasn’t sure where the hell he stood with Leah. But it was clear nothing would ever come out of that date anyway, so why did he even care?

He wasn’t sure about that, either.

Shaking his head and trying to pull himself together, he walked to his kitchen. The place was poorly furnished—but it had the basics. Just enough so that if police ever showed up or the government decided to stop by, he wouldn’t look insane.

The kitchen had all the necessities. Exactly eight drinking glasses. Four plates and four bowls. Twelve knives, forks, and spoons. All of the random odds and ends you’d need in a kitchen. Wooden spoon, pasta strainer, spatula.

The island had three barstools at it. One for him, one for his bag, and one for his jacket to hang off of.

He even had a small square kitchen table, with four chairs. One was out of the question, two was pitiful, and three looked ridiculous. He was sure that four chairs was the most normal choice. He had a TV. He had a couch he slept next to. He had a bedroom with a dresser and a bed. He had a bathroom with toiletries in it.

That didn’t change the fact that the apartment just felt insanely empty. Maybe it was because he didn’t have any personal decorations—no plants; real or fake, no pictures or posters on the walls, no magnets on the fridge.

And it wasn’t just his home that was lonely. He was, too. Now that he didn’t have mandatory meetings with Raynor, he really didn’t have many reasons to leave the apartment.

He had no friends. No family. No stable job. No pets.

Well, he had Sam.

He glanced at his phone, debating on texting Sam or not.

Eventually, the latter won in his mind. He’d seen Sam six hours earlier, when he’d left Delacroix. Surely it was too early to text him right? Bucky wasn’t too familiar with the modern texting customs or whatever, but he was positive that there were rules to it.

He shook his head, purposefully setting his phone down on the counter before walking into the other room.

Sam scrubbed the plate gently, comfortable in the monotony of the task. It enabled his mind to wander, and it did.

He caught himself thinking of Bucky. He hasn’t seen the guy’s house, but based on what he knew of the man, he was sure it was a sad sight to see.

His phone sat on the kitchen table, and he desperately wanted to walk over and text Bucky. But he didn’t want to weird him out, and knowing Bucky, he probably wasn’t even bothered by his intentional solitude. Hell, he probably loved it.

Bucky seemed to like spending time with Sam’s family, just based on how he acted and presented himself when he’d been in Delacroix. But of course, Sam knew he was an introvert. Maybe that had just been his perfect amount of human interaction, and any more of it would piss him off or something.

So he didn’t text.

And when he finished washing the dishes and moved on to putting them away, he didn’t stop to text Bucky then, either.

Walking through the house, he found comfort in the familiar creaking of the floors, and he walked up the stairs slowly as to not wake up the boys.

Getting up and into his room, he looked out the window. His room, and the boys’ room, faced the water. Sarah’s room was across the hall, and she didn’t seem to mind the lack of the view.

Sam spent the next couple of days like that. He wanted to reach out, he desperately did, but he suddenly never knew what to say.

Until Sarah stopped him one night after the boys went to bed.

“Sam, I swear to God, if you don’t stop pining after that man…” she gave him a knowing look.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He looked at her.

“Bucky. You look at that damn phone everyday as if it had the news on your dying granddaddy. I know you’re waiting for a text and it seems like it’s not coming. Just call him.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” He huffed. She looked at him as she walked out of the kitchen.

“It doesn’t work like that and you know it!” He called quietly as to not wake up his nephews.

He glanced at his damned cellular device.

Did it work like that?

Bucky thought about contacting Sam all week. He knew the man’s address. He could send a letter.

He mentally smacked himself. People don’t just send letters these days.

He didn’t wanna call him. He’d freeze up, or say the wrong thing. And texting just didn’t hit right. It seemed like he was between a rock and a hard place.

He picked up his phone, typing out a paragraph.

Hey. I know I was being a real ass about the SHIELD. I’m still sorry about that, by the way. But I was

Yeah, he didn’t know where he was going with that.

He typed out another draft.

Hey. Can we chat for a bit?

“C’mon, grow a pair.” He grumbled to himself, before pressing the send button and setting his phone on the counter, face down.

Sam drove down the small road, focusing on the pretty scenery. Sarah suggested taking a small road trip and renting a cabin out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere with no cell service.

He’d told her no, that he was Captain America now, that that would be too risky. He hadn’t included the part about Bucky potentially texting him or calling him.

She didn’t let him finish. She sat with him at his laptop as he booked the cabin.

“There’s plenty of heroes,” she’d added.

And so he’d set off.

Bucky wallowed for the next weekend when he got no response. It was then that he’d realized that he truly was alone, that he’d die with no connections, that—

Oh. Sam was calling.

He picked up the phone, and the both of them began talking at the same time.

“Sam, I know I just saw you, but I—“

“Hey, Buck, I was thinking about—“

“Oh, uh, you go first.” Bucky coughed.

“No, you go ahead.” Sam said politely.

“No, you. You started talking first.” Bucky shot back.

“No, go ahead.” Sam retorted. There was a silent battle between them for a second.

“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “It’s just—I’ve been thinking about talking to you all week, and I sent a few texts but you didn’t respond, so I..thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“What? Bucky—no. I didn’t have cell service for a while, the texts must’ve never went through. And I do want something to do with you.” Sam explained.

“Oh.” Bucky didn’t know how to respond.

“You really thought I thought that way about you?”

“Well—I didn’t—I don’t fuckin’ know. But now I know that you don’t think about me like that.” Bucky rambled. “I—I’m messing this up. Do you wanna..get a coffee, sometime?”

“Sounds great, man.” Bucky could hear the smile in Sam’s voice.

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

[bingo masterlist]

#sbsummer2024 #sambucky #sam and bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #winterfalcon

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jen-with-a-pen · 1 year ago

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ALL TIED UP - TWO

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: The start of the week that changed everything. Bucky and Sam propose something that Steve shouldn't have agreed to. A good brother is a good brother, though... right?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1.17k

warnings: Bucky and Sam are true frat bros, Clint and Tony are somewhere I swear, annoying roommates, plot development

a/n: never thought i'd see the day again but: here's chapter two! i'm excited to keep building this world and to drag everyone along for the ride. again: mind the slowburn and plot dev, i promise i'm getting there ♥

The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Monday.

“Rogers! Rogers! We know you’re in there!”

“Yeah, c’mon, Stevie! We need t’ talk!”

Fists bang on the flimsy wooden door to Steve’s bedroom, threatening to break it down. Steve rubs his face with the back of a (cleaner) hand as music continues to blare out of his earbuds, charcoal dust from his latest drawing assignment now caking his desk, hands, and floor. He groans. Irritation and a slew of curses beg to launch off his tongue. Pressing his lips together tightly, Steve tosses his earbuds onto his desk and shoves back his chair. The legs scrape against the old wood flooring, screeching loudly and announcing his surrender as he walks to the door. He unlocks it– undoing the deadbolt, too– and swings it open, eyes shooting sharpened daggers at the stupid, knowing grins plastered on his frat brothers’ faces.

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson beam at Steve, trouble and mischief brewing behind their eyes.

As the heads of the household and leaders of the Sigma Beta Theta (ΣΘΒ) Fraternity, one of the oldest– and most infamous– frats in Richards College Greek life, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were known campus and state-wide for their level of commitment in Greek life. Fourth years in whatever program they’re enrolled in, Steve couldn’t recall; some rumors claimed they were ‘Super Seniors’ who decided they couldn’t bear to part with their beloved frat. Others said they’ve been out of school, already graduated a year or two before, but were still allowed to run the frat since Bucky’s step-daddy was elected Dean a couple years back. The timing lined up, Steve had surmised, once he’d been pledged.

Sam and Bucky each prided themselves in their muscular, god-like statures to their own accord. Their builds were accentuated by broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, abs hard enough to crack an egg– and each had one hell of a sex drive, Steve learned, during his first night in the house.

He adapted rather quickly to falling asleep with his earbuds in. The risk of choking on his own headphone cord was worth a better night’s sleep than lying awake to the constant thump thump thump-ing that came clearly through the walls surrounding his room. Every. Fucking. Night.

But, Steve had to hand it to them. Even they weren’t entirely self-centered. They still thought and cared about their frat and fellow brethren: mandating daily workouts in the morning (no matter how early your first class is), requiring frat colors to be worn to every sporting event (even chess), and everyone being forced to take a minimum of three shots at every house-held party (including ones during weekdays, midterms, finals, and holidays).

Steve had been reluctant since the moment he signed his name on the scholarship contract. Something that day made him feel as if he’d signed his life away. He knew that joining a frat was an integral part of his full-ride– that he promised his mother ‘college was taken care of’ so she wouldn’t have to pick up even more shifts at the county hospital. What he didn’t know was which frat to join. That part was up to him. Sigma Theta Beta chose him more than he chose it.

Steve blinks.

Sam and Bucky lean against either side of the doorway, waggling their brows at Steve and glancing from one another to him. Steve rolls his eyes, sighing heavily with an annoyed edge. He swallows the curses and puts on the most neutral tone he can possibly muster.

“What.”

Shit.

Bucky hitches a shoulder and looks to Sam, who exaggeratedly clears his throat.

“Rogers! You gotta stop lookin’ so mean, man!”

“You made me mess up my drawing, again, man,” Steve seethes through clenched teeth. Sam waves a hand absently.

“Ah, you’ll be alright,” he scoffs, “anywho, Buck n’ I–”

“Don’t call me Buck,” Bucky growls.

“–ahem, Bucky and I heard from a lil’ birdy that it’s your birthday this weekend–”

“–and we were wondering,” Bucky chimes in, as if on cue, “if we could dedicate this weekend’s party to you!”

Steve blanches. His brow furrows after a second, suspicion stabbing him in the gut.

“You,” he points to both brothers, “Wanna throw a party this weekend. For me?”

Bucky and Sam nod in unison, grins and gazes growing.

“Yeah, man! You deserve it,” Bucky says, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Sam quickly copies him. It’s not reassuring in the slightest.

“Why?”

“Because! As an official pledge, newbies always get thrown a birthday party,” Sam drives an index finger into Steve’s chest.

Steve raises his brow, but buries it again after giving the proposal more than a millisecond of thought.

“My birthday was in July. I wasn’t even pledged yet.”

Sam huffs, smile faltering as he looks to Bucky with slight annoyance behind his eyes.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, it was, but,” Bucky mirrors Sam’s prodding finger digging into Steve’s sternum, “this is for your fraternity birthday. Plus, you’re the first pledge in three years, so you get an extra special celebration.”

Their grins begin to make Steve squirm. He pushes their hands off him. The whole thing feels dirtier than his own, charcoal-covered hands. He can see through their shitty façade of charisma, but can’t make out what’s on the other side. Whatever it is, it makes him feel uneasy and ungrateful at the same time.

He’s been the newbie for the last few weeks, and all he’s done is keep to himself and draw for hours in his room. He hasn’t made any real friends, aside from the exchanged niceties from a classmate or two in his gen ed courses. He should be getting out there, getting to know his housemates– his ‘brothers’– better, shouldn’t he? After all, he is an only child. He didn’t grow up with the siblings Bucky, Sam, or Clint did. Tony was an only child, sure, but Steve couldn't find another thing to even relate to the guy about.

He should trust them, give this thing a shot.

Right?

Steve looks Bucky up and down cautiously before turning to Sam, sighing and plastering on a half-smile.

“Alright, sure. I’m game.”

Bucky and Sam erupt into fist pumps and high fives while Steve stands in the threshold with a knife in his gut jamming further and further into his innards.

“You’re gonna have the time of your fuckin’ life, Stevie,” Bucky reassures him. His fingers dig deeper into Steve’s shoulder and he flinches at the bruising pain. For a split second, he swears he sees a glint of something dark in Bucky’s eyes. Something dangerous. He can’t help but respond with a mumbled ‘okay’ before the two leave to raid the kitchen downstairs.

Steve turns back into his room, shutting and locking the door and before leaning back against it. His head falls back, cushioned by jackets and sweatshirts hanging from their hooks. He rubs his face, no longer caring about the gritty charcoal covering his face.

What the fuck did he agree to?

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thisonesatellite · 1 year ago

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Title: Tempus Fugit

Author: @thisonesatellite (RecoveringTheSatellites on AO3)

Artist: @rufferto9 (rufferto on AO3)

Rating: M

Word Count: 20,057

Warning: None

Relationships: Steve Rogers / James “Bucky” Barnes

Tags: Alternate UniverseShrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Archaeologist!Steve, chaos muppet BAMF assistant!Clint, Scott just being Scott, Tony just being Tony, nerd battles will happen, plot and connection and softness, and at least one hail of bullets, and a happy end, also - history nerds will absolutely get theirs here

Summary:

tempus fugit (lat): time flies November, 1926. Steve is an archaeologist who has been looking for something all his life without quite knowing what it is. Clint is his long-suffering assistant who definitely doesn't tempt Steve to fire him at least once a day. Their latest venture has bounced them around the Mediterranean with no clear plan, until Clint points out the obvious and they both embark on a journey that will finally lead them to their destination. Or rather, to finding out that what Steve's been looking for his whole life isn't a what. It's a who. Because of course it is. Shenanigans, secret society conspiracies, casual mentions of world domination, the apocalypse, and the crusades, a little magic, a lot of science, and some witty banter ensue. Also adventure. Plus soft bois wrapped into the strings of fate and destiny and a very happy end. (For those of you who need to know, there are no mummies in this fic. Anywhere.)

Written for the shrinkyclinks double bang at @buckybarnesevents.

Art by the incredible and amazing @rufferto9 . This has been an absolutely wonderful collaboration, and i am so glad i got to do this with you.

My eternal gratitude goes out to @booksandabeer, beta extraordinaire, who can squeeze fic from a stone and enables my lunacy no matter which form it takes, and @wistfulcynic, my Person, who doesn't even Marvel and yet holds my hand every time i threaten to melt down.

Without you guys there would not have been fic. i owe you EVERYRTHING.

And also the awesome mods -- @mxaether and @buckyismybicycle -- thank you for a great event!

#shrinkyclinksdoublebang2023 #bucky barnes events #stucky fic #thisonesatellite #rufferto9 #master post

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the-feels-assassin · 9 months ago

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A Pern/Avengers Crossover (That No One Asked for)

So I was reading a recent popular book involving dragons and dragonriders, and thinking how much I like the Dragonriders of Pern better (lol), and of course my brain did it's thing. So here you have it. My definitive opinion on what sorts of people the Avengers would be in the world of Pern.

We're gonna start with Steve/Peggy/Bucky because I HAVE THOUGHTS:

Of course this is during a Pass, because Steve/Peggy/Bucky have to be during a time of War and a Pass is the closet we have to War in the Dragonrider sof Pern.

Steve Rogers: oh, Steve. Poor, tiny, sickly Steve. He and Bucky are fosters at a Weyr, but no one expects/wants Steve to bond a dragon because no one is confident this sickly kid is going to live through the night at any given time. So either they keep him off the sands during a hatching or he's up in the bleachers. But Steve, being Steve, we get a Jaxom or Keevan scenario. No one means Steve to Impress a dragon, but of course you can't communicate that to freshly hatched dragons. And so of course between the sheer determination of Steve pulling himself out of the infirmary (ala Keevan in The Smallest Dragon Boy) and the stubbornness of the dragon refusing everyone on the sands (ala Ruth looking for Jaxom), we get tiny Steve Rogers bonded to what will be the biggest, most powerful Bronze Dragon the Weyr has ever seen. Steve becomes a Wingleader and everyone expect he'll be Weyrleader one day when Peggy becomes head Weyrwoman. Which leads us to Peggy Carter

Peggy Carter: Peggy is a rider of a gold dragon, of course she is. She was fostered in a different Weyr from Steve and Bucky (hence the different accent), but due to injuries and deaths during the passes, she gets redistributed to another Weyr that is lean on Golds and their leading Gold and Weyrwoman are aging. Peggy will be the next Weyrwoman. She is Peggy Carter in every way, fierce and determined, and like Lessa she fights the leadership of her time to enable Gold dragons to fight. Because Peggy Carter is all about sticking it to the patriarchy.

Bucky Barnes: Bucky Barnes is solid and reliable and dependable. He Impressed one of those Brown dragons that's as big as a Bronze (ala F'nor and Canth). He is Steve's Wing-Second. And then something happens while they are fighting Thread. Bucky is hit. Thread takes his left arm and sears most of his dragon on the left side. His dragon jumps Between and never comes back. Everyone assumes Bucky went with him, dead.

Everyone, of course, assumes wrong.

So what happens to Steve?

Steve just fought Thread, the battle is over and he's beat, and he's just doing a sweep to make sure nothing got through. It's time to go home; he goes to jump Between. He accidentally jumps time. He envisioned something off--something in the stars, maybe it was a night jump?--and suddenly he's in the future. He has no idea how to get back. Steve Rogers is a bit of a legend. His arrival sends both the Weyr into chaos, but also no one really believes it's him. They need the Harpers to verify, since the Harpers hold the history of Pern.

Which of course...brings us to SHIELD.

Because we all know the Harpers are the Spies of Pern, and the Masterharper of Pern is the most powerful man on Pern (search your feelings, you know it to be true) so of course I'm saying that:

Nick Fury: Nick Fury is the mother-loving Masterharper of Pern. Look, I don't care if he doesn't sing or play an instrument that we know of in the Marvel movies. In the Pern novels, Robinton has his fingers in EVERYTHING. He is the puppet master. Nick Fury is the Masterharper of Pern. I will brook no argument on this. Which of course means all of our SHIELD agents are harpers. Yes. It's wonderful.

Clint Barton: I mean how could Clint Barton NOT be a harper? He grew up Holdless. He picked up his acrobatic, juggling, and archery skills as a Holdless kid. But a Harper (probably Fury) saw his talent and potential and recruited him to be a Harper. Sure the kid is partially deaf, but he's a natural with an instrument and a born-entertainer. He's also so darn personable. Everyone immediately likes him and trusts him and tells him things. So of course, of course he's a perfect Harper, a perfect person to collect information and brook trust with the Holdless, Holds, and Weyrs alike.

Natasha Romanoff: There isn't really an equivalent of the Soviet Union in Pern. Natasha grows up in the Southern Continent, maybe the child of an Oldtimer exiled there. I think like Menolly, Natasha naturally Impressed a whole little flight of fire lizards, because she is like that. While Natasha is raised in an environment where all those in the Northern Continent are the enemy, eventually she meets Clint Barton and is recruited to Harper Hall and to the cause of ridding Pern of thread forever (the Ultimate Goal).

Phil Coulson: Look he makes Harper Hall run. He mostly stays in Harper Hall while Fury is out doing God knows what, and it's Coulson who is keeping tabs and getting reports from Barton and Romanoff.

Okay but what about Tony and Bruce? They are the last two Main Avengers left.

Tony Stark: Obviously the youngest Master ever at Smithcraft Hall. Could be on track to be the next Mastersmith BUT you know Tony. He likes to work on what he wants to work on. He's a genius and we love him, but staying within an authority matrix or running one isn't his strong suit. Eventually he becomes the head of Computer craft, when he meets....

JARVIS: Obviously the AIVAS analog. Tony is just bitter he didn't invent JARVIS himself. In this AU, I think it's Natasha who discovers AIVAS, while messing around on the Southern continent, doing her undercover recon thing. She sends her queen firelizard (the only one with two brain cells, obviously) to report back to Fury, who immediately gets Tony down there via Dragon. And of course that Dragonrider is none other than Tony's best friend.

James Rhodes: Rhodey was raised in Smithcraft Hall, went to be fostered at a Weyr for a short period of time, mainly to learn more about the Weyr's needs and how Smithcraft Hall could better plug in and whoops, impressed a dragon. Tony is still mad his best friend "abandoned him" for a "giant lizard" (which really Tony is just incredibly jealous. Who doesn't want to be a dragonrider?).

Bruce Banner: Bruce is basically the opposite of Rhodey. He was a dragonrider and he lost his dragon fighting Thread. This has left Bruce teetering between suicidal depression and complete rage. He's found new purpose in Smithcraft Hall and has become friends with Tony, but there is just a pain in him that is indescribable and everyone who interacts with him can feel it. In this AU, General Ross is the Weyrleader of the Weyr that Bruce was in--Betty is still his daughter and a gold rider. But since Bruce's bronze dragon is dead, well, there is just really no future for him and Betty.

Okay that's it for now. I have no idea what happened to Bucky (how does he come back? What is a Winter Soldier equivalent in Pern??), and I have no intention of writing a story in this AU, but inexplicably this keeps coming to me.

#long post #Avengers #Dragonriders of Pern #crossover #an AU no one asked for

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your-darling-gaze · 4 months ago

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Eyeing the crisp suit chip, getting a hang of it for a moment, a bewildered expression, really, really uncertain about the idea, chest heaving with an easy breath, strained posture from hours of lab work, a chip that reads...

IRON PATRIOT V3.06.884

Latches the chip onto the left side of my chest, tapping it up once, twice...thrice. Tech starting to whirr around, plating expanding to cover against my skin, circuitry whirring inside the plating and cavities, the helmet hatching over my head for cover.

'Friday..? You in here..?'

Breathing heaved, system powering on, a million numbers and figures starting to float around in my sight, stats and figures, a handling console to move the settings around...

WELCOME, IRON PATRIOT. SYSTEM RENDERING, VOICE ACTIVATION REQUIRED.

'Uh...Anthony Edward.'

ACCESS DENIED.

'...Shit...Genius Billionaire?'

ACCESS DENIED.

'....For god's sake if this works....'

'Man in a Can.'

ACCESS GRANTED. FRIDAY, WORKING WITH YOU, IRON PATRIOT. PLEASE REQUEST Y0UR MUSIC.

Shakes head, slightly disappointedbut not surprised...

'Just play anything that mister stark plays, Fri...'

NOTED. NOW PLAYING: TAKE ON ME BY A-HA

'.....Can you make a data chip on the chest plate circuit functioning, send it in?'

PLEASE SPECIFY RECEIVER OF DATA.

'.....Darling Grace...?'

RECEIVER NOT FOUND.

'....Cherry..?'

RECIEVER NOT FOUND.

'Well shit...uh...Experiment Handler.'

RECEIVER FOUND. COMPILING DATA IN PROGRESS.

DATA COMPILED. SENT TO SELECTED USER ONLY WITH ONE TIME PASSWORD FOR ACCESS AND PERMISSION OF REPLICATING THE FILES ONLY TO RECEIVERS WITH ACCESS.

Hums in agreement, whispers a polite 'Thank you...'

Decides to look for controls to get the suit off. Eyes wandering over the many stats and figures hovering into my vision, getting slightly confused.

'...How does this come off...?'

REQUEST RECEIVED FOR TAKE OFF.

'...No, no, I meant Come Off, not Take Off...'

HANDLING RECEIVED FOR TAKE OFF. GETTING THRUSTERS READY.

'....What did you say...?'

THRUSTERS IN POWER, READY FOR BOOST OFF.

'Hey...hey, no, retrieve that request...no request...NO request...'

COUNTING DOWN: 3...2....1...0.

Thrusters boosting up with a jerk, wide eyes, trying to keep up with the tech handling, the sudden unbearable thrust, jaw locked from the acceleration against wind resistance, the music rivetting through the internal speakers, heartbeat throbbing hard against my chest, a violent beeping from the thruster heating up, a slight sheen of sweat against my skin from the heated suiting...

'Retrieve...reque....ret-'

Voice cracking, mouth drying out due to the speed, heartbeat accelerating, the sky speeding past the vision, clouds hazing vision, triggering the Acrophobia, the music resonating between my ears, mindless, not being able to register it...

'Retrieve...retrieve...'

Only small whispers left my throat...

FUEL RETRACTION. ENABLING POWER SAVING FLYING.

Chin trembling out of panic, Anxiety kicking in quicker than breath, trying to move around, trying to move hands, feet, anything, trying to reach somewhere more grounded...

'Mister...Mister Stark....'

FUEL LEVELS ALARMINGLY LOW. ENABLING LOW POWER FREE FALL.

Plummeting through the sky, suit flickering and sputtering as it struggles to stay operational, dim and unstable, with sparks erupting intermittently across its surface. The suit's thrusters erratic, flaring up sporadically but unable to provide consistent propulsion...

WARNING: The HUD displays critical errors and warnings, struggling to keep up with the rapidly changing situation. The suit's sensors and onboard computers are overloaded, barely able to process the free-fall trajectory or calculate a safe landing.

The wind howls around, amplifying the sense of speed and urgency. as the crescendo in the rivetting music builds. Every second counts, attempting to regain control on the deploying emergency systems...

______________________________________________________

( @the-loss-of-my-life @soldier-bucky-barnes )

#Spotify

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klecrone · 4 months ago

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@hardwiredweird created this beautiful gouache painting of Bucky awhile back and gifted the stunning original to me! I just can't get over how incredible it looks in person, and I wanted to share it again since the energy he’s conveying really reminded me of the no-nonsense intensity of “Barnes” in this chapter (even if he’s far more undercover in the current chapter of my ongoing story).

Please check out HardWiredWeird's Twitter and Tumblr accounts to see more of his incredible art! His skill with portraiture is phenomenal, and there are loads of recognizable characters across his art accounts! He’s also just an all-around fantastic person and watercolor and gouache enabler.

Chapter 90: "Modus Operandi" - (Read on Ao3) "Winter of the White Wolf"

With my recent posting I've also just surpassed 800k+ words on my story, which is utterly wild. Thank you all for the encouragement and community on this insane journey. ❤ Life's been really wonderful lately, and I've included some bonus photos of my recent adventures at the bottom of the above chapter!

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 18, Unread - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. (hand stuff), mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Bucky came home from his mission and woke you up in the most pleasant way possible.

A/N: Why can't I say no to you people? SUPRISE DROP

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You woke up the next morning with a pleasantly familiar ache between your legs. True to his word, you had, after the fifth or sixth time, had to beg him to stop. You’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d managed to coax out of you, but you’d been too sensitive to continue any further, and the sky was already lightening with the promise of dawn when you’d both finally succumbed to sleep.

“Mornin’” Bucky whispered into your hair, planting a kiss to your head.

“Morning, Buck,” you greeted back, snuggling closer to his chest. “Can we just stay in bed all day and play last night on repeat?”

Bucky chuckled. “As much as I’d love to, doll,” he said, “I’ve gotta do a mission debrief with Steve and Tony at some point today.” At the sight of your pout, he added “But we can make them wait a little while longer.”

You kissed lazily for awhile, welcoming the familiar sensation of being next to one another once more, physically and emotionally, but soon your hands drifted lower, and before you knew it, you had one hand wrapped around his dick while he had one of his buried in your cunt, your thigh draped over his.

Neither one of you spoke or broke eye contact as you brought each other to completion yet again, and though you technically weren’t having actual sex, it felt like the single most erotic experience the two of you had ever shared.

“Holy shit,” panted Bucky as he pressed his forehead to yours. “That was so fucking hot.”

Your chest heaved with your own heavy breaths. “We should do that all the time,” you agreed.

“I love you,” he kissed you again.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him when the kiss broke.

Bucky cleared his throat, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I was thinking.”

“Well, that sounds unfortunate,” you joked, but his face remained serious.

“We should leave here,” he said, not quite meeting your gaze.

Your face turned puzzled. “What do you mean? Like, actually take that vacation we talked about?”

“Well, yeah, but no.” Bucky huffed. “I mean, we should leave the Tower. Get a place, just the two of us. Really start over proper, without everyone else always around.”

“Bucky Barnes,” you grinned at him, “are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Would it be so bad?” he asked back. “Think about it– a place of our own, that we could make into a home. Where we could create brand new memories. Maybe think about starting a family.”

That took you by surprise. “You mean, like, have kids?”

“Only if you wanted to!” Bucky said hastily. “I’d never force you into anything you didn’t want to do. I know we never talked about it but, if I was gonna do it, I’d only ever wanna do it with you.”

You sat up. This was now too serious a conversation to be had lying down. And naked, probably, but you didn’t make a move to get dressed. “I… I honestly never really thought about it, Buck. About having kids.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now, sweetheart,” Bucky sat up to join you. “I’m not tryin’ pressure you into anything. And I wouldn’t want kids until after we were married for a little bit, anyway. It’s just… somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about.”

“Married?” you asked him, eyebrows raised.

Bucky’s cheeks colored. “Well, I’m not sayin’ tomorrow, or the day after, but come on, doll! You gotta know you’re it for me. Ya think I haven’t been dreamin’ ‘bout callin’ you Mrs. Barnes since the day I met you?”

You nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You dirty liar.”

Bucky’s body immediately tensed at your words. “Why do you think I’m lyin’?”

“The day you met me? Come on, Barnes.”

“Oh,” Bucky let out a shaky exhale, “it was definitely that day. I remember thinkin’ to myself ‘Always did want a wife who made awful jokes.’”

You had no idea if he was being serious or not, but it was sweet all the same. “You sure you didn’t always want a wife who did all the housework and had a pot roast waiting for you every day when you got home from the office?”

“Pfft,” Bucky waved away the thought. “Obedient, submissive women are overrated. Gimme a sassy girl with a dirty mouth and a heart of gold anyday.”

You laughed at that and then bit your lip, considering. “Yeah, okay,” you said after a moment.

Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Really, doll? You’ll marry me?”

You barked out a laugh. “Whoa, slow down, Casanova! I’m agreeing to getting our own place! You wanna marry me, you’re gonna have to go through the trouble of putting together a real proposal. Our engagement story is not going to be ‘well, we lying were in bed after jacking each other off, and then he said ‘we could get married, if you want.’’ I am far too classy for that.”

It was Bucky’s turn, now, to laugh. “Yeah, alright, sweets. You deserve something special, anyway. You deserve the world.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’ll think of something that’s gonna knock your socks off.”

“Looking forward to it, Barnes,” you said, your heart feeling both fuller and simultaneously lighter than it ever had before.

The two of you went back to kissing (and maybe fucking once or twice) when, eventually, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He stole a quick glance at the screen (thankfully, this time, he did not currently have his dick inside of you).

“It’s Steve,” he said, picking it up to read the message. “He wants to debrief in twenty.” Putting the phone back down, Bucky reached for you again, but you gently pushed him away. “What?” he whined, looking pitifully rejected.

“Buck, you reek of sex,” you warned him. “If I can smell it on you, you know Steve will, too. Go take a shower so you don’t traumatize your best friend!”

“But I thought you liked it when I smelled like sex, baby,” Bucky rubbed his body playfully against yours.

“I do,” you agreed, “but that doesn’t mean that everyone else will!” With a grumble, Bucky turned and dragged himself out of bed, but you managed to smack him on the ass before he got very far. “Hey,” you said, getting his attention once again, “if you hurry up and get back quick from your meeting, I’ll make sure you reek of sex all over again in no time.”

Bucky saluted you. “Ma’am, yes ma’am,” he said with a grin before heading to the shower. It took all of your willpower not to get up and join him, but you knew that, if you did, there’s no way in hell he’d be able to make his meeting in time.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago

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GENERAL RULES FOR MY BLOG.

<- back to navi

☆ I write for:

— bucky barnes — logan howlett — matt murdock — moonboys — miguel o’hara (not so much anymore) — peter quill (not so much anymore) — pietro maximoff — spencer reid �� tangerine

☆ here are some do’s and don’ts :

— please do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms. even though it may not seem like it, I spend many hours on piece alone

— mdni as a majority of my content is 18+ and the characters I write about are adults

— be sure to read the warnings in each post. I have tagged it carefully, but im not responsible for your media intake

— I write for fem!readers only unless stated/ asked otherwise, but some of my fluff fics can be considered GN

— I have started to delete requests that get sent in when they’re closed. I know sometimes people may not realise when it’s shut, but they’re closed for a reason

— I don’t use y/n or appearance details unless requested so

— although im sensitive, im open to constructive criticism and feedback, but if you don’t like something, please be nice about it

— please don’t send me an ask that you have already sent to another writer

— please don’t spam me with the same request as I’ll be less likely to write it

— sending in a request doesn’t guarantee I’ll be able to write it, I appreciate you sending them in, but im just not able to complete every request I receive. and if I don’t connect with the request, I’ll be less inclined to write it

☆ some guildelines for what to request :

— when sending in an ask, please try to be as specific as you can. ‘fluff’ or ‘smut’ isn’t a request, id like to know exactly what it is you’d like

— im nsfw friendly, so I take smutty requests

— for smut requests, female readers only

☆ I will write :

fluff, smut, angst, comfort, reverse comfort

18+ only. im good with most things & kinks, some examples- light bondage, choking, climax control, dom/ sub (preferably male dom) praise, degradation, age gap (nothing too wild though) public stuff, food play || basically anything along those lines

☆ I won’t write :

real people, dubcon/ noncon or cnc, heavy bdsm, anal (includes eating) pegging, anything toilet related, daddy kinks/ ddlg, raceplay/ racism, sexual abuse/ assault || basically anything extreme, i personally prefer soft sweet, lovey dovey sex, so I don’t like writing anything on the contrast

but if there’s anything unsure of, please message, I promise im not mean :)

☆ few more things :

— in my smut fics, I often don’t mention any contraception- to me, as it’s fiction, pregnancies and sti’s etc, don’t exist, so it feels pointless to write/ describe it. like it takes up space that’s not necessary needed. if you were wondering, no, I don’t have a breeding kink that I worm into my writing lmao. I just feel it’s pointless to mention- unless it’s specified/ asked for in a request etc

— just know that it may take a little while, im not ignoring you- it also depends on how many requests are in my inbox. unfortunately im not able to write every request I get. also please don’t be offended if I don’t write yours, or if I write requests out of order from when I receive them, sometimes I feel more like writing some asks more than others

— if you have any ideas or requests, I would be happy to write them for you- assuming you like my writing. feel free to send in requests (preferably drabbles, blurbs, HCs) for any mcu male character - but if there’s one im not comfortable writing, I’ll nicely say so in response :)

— also be sure to enable mature on your content filters (ofc if you want to) just so you can see things that may be blocked by community labels

#read rules before interacting #navigation #request rules

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year ago

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You bring me closer to God - Ch1

AN: Righto, I’m here to pop my Buckquín cherry (thanks @sidepartskinnyjeans and @buckyismybicycle for enabling)

Big thanks also to @buckyismyconstant and @sparkagrace for the song recommendations - NIN and Placebo hit just right.

Beta’d by @hannahshattuck

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board by me

HSB Prompt is Long day at work - thank you @buckybarnesevents

Master list| Hot Bucky Summer Master list

Summary: Bucky’s pissed off, his blood boiling, but all he can think about is taking out his frustrations on a certain, newly-minted Falcon.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Joaquín Torres

Word Count: 1.7k

CW: Mean Dom Top Bucky, Enthusiastic Sub Bottom Joaquín, Pre-established ‘Situationship’, Male Masturbation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Degradation, Sub Space, Non-Verbal Joaquín, Flash backs

Bucky was pissed.

Angry.

Incandescent with rage.

It was bad enough that he had to deal with what seemed to be an never ending stream of war-lords, manic super-scientists with robots, or mal-adjusted mutants, but add to that the fact that Joaquín seemed determined to throw himself into harm's way, Every. Single. Time. had him practically frothing at the mouth.

It had been an annoyance when they first met, when he’d found out how the baby-faced Lieutenant had tried to single handedly stop the Flag Smashers, but since they’d started, whatever this was, Bucky was finding it harder and harder to reign in his violent tendencies.

Luckily, for all concerned, Sam didn’t say anything out loud about Bucky’s mood shifts, although he had smirked, earning him a ‘murder glare’, before Bucky stalked away.

But today? Today the little idiot had jumped in front of Bucky, to protect him from some unknown projectile. Sure, Quín wasn’t completely helpless - he had his suit and his wings - but that wasn’t the point. Bucky was eminently more indestructible, and the kid shouldn’t be risking himself like that, especially not for him.

Once the battle was won, and SWORD were making their way in to carry out clean up - of weapons, rubble and unidentified goo - Bucky had ignored his partner and his, well, sort-of other type of partner - lover, fuck buddy, whatever - and stomped off to his part of the jet, the place he sat when he didn’t want to talk to the others. Sam and Quín had tiptoed around him, and Bucky had pretended not to see the pointed looks his two winged colleagues gave each other as he cleaned and resharpened each knife in his current arsenal.

The newly minted Falcon had only tried once to speak to him, but hadn’t even gotten a word out, his mouth gaping like a fish when Bucky had just growled at him.

“Not now!”

He’d almost felt bad when Quín's expression had fallen, like some kind of kicked puppy, but only almost. He was still too mad.

It had been a tense two hour flight back to up-state New York, and the new Avengers compound. It was late when they got there, and Bucky knew there was no point going home to Brooklyn, because he’d just have to be right back here first thing in the morning for the debrief.

As he’d exited the high-tech stealth plane, Sam had risked bodily injury to snag his arm.

“Don’t be too hard on him, please. Think about what his actions really mean.”

Bucky had just grunted and shaken off Sam’s arm, before walking away at high speed, to his quarters. He needed to relax, but his blood was up and he knew only one thing was gonna take the edge off.

His thumbprint let him through the door with ease, and he kicked it shut before crouching to unlace his combat boots. Those were thrown unceremoniously in a corner and then he began to divest himself of his tac vest and other clothes with as much speed as he could manage without damaging the clothes. He was moving as he dropped the various types of black fabric to the floor. Each knife was pulled from its holster and flung at the well scarred coffee table, every single one landing with a reverberating thunk into the wood.

By the time Bucky moved into the bedroom, which only had the barest minimum of personal touches, he was naked and only carrying his phone. He opened his music app and cast a playlist to the smart speaker, placing the phone on the dresser

As he walked to the bathroom, the music started to play. The beat thudded through his body and the lyrics spoke to his state of mind.

He started the shower, stepping under the water before it had even fully warmed, needing to wash, not only the sweat and the grime from day away, but also the anger and frustration too.

Goddamn it. Why did Joaquín have to risk himself like that? Fucking selfish, is what it was. Sam would have been devastated if his protege had been seriously injured, or worse. And him? Well he obviously did like the young man, that much was clear by the number of times he’d been balls deep inside him. He obviously didn’t want to see the young man hurt.

He smirked to himself.

Unless it was hurt in a specific, consensual way by him, of course. Quín did cry such pretty tears, after all.

Water cascaded over him, soothing, and Bucky let his hands travel down his torso and he remembered the last time he’d indulged himself in the soft warmth of Joaquin’s body.

It had been a standard, post mission fuck, the pair of them full of adrenaline and needing to get it out. It had been the younger man who’d started it that time. He’d left the hanger first, leaving Sam and Bucky to finish up. They were all going to get washed up and then meet in the conference room for the debrief. Sam had turned one way to head to his room and Bucky the other, when a closet door shot open and Bucky was dragged inside.

He’d feigned surprise, of course. He’d know that Joaquín was lying in wait for him, because of the erratic thumping of his heart and stuttered breathing that Bucky had heard from 10 feet away. It was cute though.

“You need something, baby boy? Something so urgent you couldn’t just wait and come knock on my door?”

But Quín had already started to go non-verbal, his need taking over and he’d just rubbed his body up against Bucky’s, nose to Bucky’s neck, inhaling the sweat of the mission, and letting out a pathetic whine. Luckily Bucky knew just what his boy needed.

“You wanna get caught, don’t you? Want everyone here, all of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, knowing just what a slut you are, huh?”

It had barely taken a touch to Joaquin’s shoulder to have him falling to his knees, pulling at Bucky’s belt and zipper in his frenzy to get to Bucky’s cock. Bucky had smiled to himself in the dim light of the storage closet, leaning his weight against the door, and watching his lover lose himself. That was until Quín finally wrapped his lips around him, taking him deeply, with sloppy strokes, and Bucky had had to close his eyes, at least momentarily, overwhelmed by just how fucking good Quín’s mouth felt.

He’d let his lover run the show for a few minutes, slobbering and gagging messily, letting out garbled moans and whimpers as he choked himself on Bucky’s dick, but then he’d pulled the young man off him, and reached into his back pocket for the small packet of lube he now always kept with him… for ‘emergencies’.

And Quín had known the drill. As Bucky lubed up his cock, the Baby Falcon had shucked the sinfully skin tight pants he’d worn under his flight suit. Bucky had lifted him, and he’d wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist. The former assassin had spun them around, pressing the younger man’s back to the door. With desperation and a lack of finesse, Bucky had managed to get the remains of the lube out of the packet and onto his fingers, summarily spread it over Quín’s tight little hole and roughly pressed one in.

Joaquín hadn’t been able to hide his sudden intake of breath, but had had the forethought to muffle any further noises by biting down on Bucky’s leather jacket. Bucky’s prep had been fast and somewhat lacking, but at this point neither of them cared. They’d both needed to be fucking. Right then!

Bucky had lined himself up and sunk home and Quin’s pathetic whimpers had made his dick impossibly harder and spurred him on. The fuck might have been inelegant, and over faster than either would have liked, but it was what they had both needed.

Back under the spray of his Stark paid for shower, Bucky’s hand drifted down to his cock, fully awake after exploring those memories. He wrapped his right hand around it and started to jerk himself with quick, firm strokes. He could have gone slow, but just like that last time with Quín, he needed to get off. He needed to come, and hopefully exorcise the demons currently plaguing him.

He focused on the memories of Quín’s channel squeezing him tight, of the way the smaller man had shuddered in his arms each time Bucky brushed his prostate. The way those involuntary movements had been also accompanied by the most musical of whimpers and sighs, driving Bucky’s hips to snap up, harder and faster.

Fuck!

He loved the way Quín’s long dark eyelashes alway brushed over his cheekbones, and how his warm, tawny skin flushed pinker as the young man got more and more aroused. He’d get frantic as his orgasm got closer, moving his hips to meet each thrust, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes…

Bucky came with a shout, barely managing not to crack the tiles on the wall with his left hand as he leant against it. Panting, he watched his spend circle the drain, white and sluggish, before slowly sinking down it.

He’d achieved his goal, but it hadn’t worked as he’d hoped - His cock was still rock hard and his blood was still boiling in his veins. There was now only one possible way to assuage the feelings coursing through him.

He finished up the rest of his shower quickly. As he towelled himself dry, he knew that in theory he should take the time to properly clean his arm and give it a tune up, as well as giving his shoulder a break from wearing it, but that would have to wait until later. He needed two hands for what he had in mind, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989

#hot bucky summer #hotbuckysummer2023 #buckquin #bucky barnes x joaquin torres #late writes #joaquín torres #bucky barnes

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