#date night with bucky barnes

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Date Night

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Black!Nurse Reader

Warnings: mdni, mentions of sex, jokes about age.

Main Masterlist

WC: 1.3k

✧���♥༻∞

Being at the Avengers Compound on your day off used to be weird. Avengers are cool and all, and you’re very appreciative for the chance to be considered ‘part of the team’ even if you only worked in the Medbay. No one wants to hang around their place of work when they don’t need to be. Then you started seeing a certain blue-eyed brunette super soldier.

So here you are walking through the main hallways to the the gym and passing a good amount of agents and techs enjoying their breaks. Then you hear your name being called. You look up from your phone and see Aaliyah, a friend of yours that works in the special equipment department (aka Avengers Weapons Only). You walk up to the cafe where her and some other work mates like to frequent.

“Hey Liyah, I didn’t know you were working today.”

She brings you in for a side hug. “I know, I’m not supposed to be, but Mr. Wilson just had to call me on my day off about fixing redwing.” Her cool demeanor shudders as the Falcon’s name coasts out of her lips.

You smirk. “I think he would prefer if you just called him Sam or your boyfriend. Your pick.”

She covers her face and shakes her head. “How about we talk about why you’re here on your day off? The Medbay is about 6 floors up and on the other side of campus.”

“Hey, I’m completely fine with saying I’m here for my man.” 

The light cockiness in your voice paints a mischievous grin on her lips. “Oh speaking of your boyfriend, does Barnes know how to use a pc- no a toaster- nope a smartphone?”

“Oh fuck off, is that what yall actually think?” You scoff as a people 10ft away from you shake their heads. “No fucking way, you can’t be serious!”

“Girl half of these people have never even seen him in person and they work in the same building he lives in.” Kyla, another nurse, says from the end of the table.

You roll your eyes and look at Aaliyah. “For real?” She nods her head.

“You know he wasn’t frozen for 70 years straight right? He couldn’t be a spy if he didn’t know how to blend in.” 

“How does he work a phone with the metal arm though?” She asks as someone comes up behind her.

“He has a flip phone, gotta remember he’s an old man.” Sam chuckles as she jolts out of her skin.

“You asshole! I told you to wait downstairs.” He shrugs and throws an arm around her. 

“You said you’d be back by 2:30, now I’m a punctual man baby. I waited a whole 5 minutes before tracking you down.” She buries her face in his chest to hide how he flustered her with the pet name. So cute.

“You should be going too, the old man has not stopped talking about you since we got here. I swear I’m gonna ask for a new mission partner.” You smile then hug them goodbye.

The walk from the break center/ cafeteria to the weapons testing arena and gym is a 5 minute straight shot. It also where you’d more times than not find your boyfriend. In the miniscule chance that he isn’t, you could probably find him in a conference room, with Captain Rogers outside lapping civilians or his suite. The kitchen exactly because those soldiers can eat. 

But the second those sliding doors open to his personal gun range, you see him just like you knew you would. He sat on a stool at a table with his muscular back adorned in a form fitting black henley and black jeans that emphasized his ridiculously thick thighs. His neck length brown hair is tied up in an adorable blue silk scrunchie as he dissembles his favorite rifle to clean it. You lean against the door frame just admiring the man’s beauty for a while more. He most definitely knows your behind him thanks to his enhances senses and experience as a spy, but that would not stop you from-

“Enjoying the view pretty girl?” Exactly, he gets it.

You smile and walk up to him, “absolutely.” You hum hugging his back and tracing your short almond acrylics across his abdomen.

A strong warm hand covers yours as he chuckles, a deep almost gravely laugh that electrifies every cell in your body. “I’ll be done in a couple minutes, then we can go.” 

You watch from over his shoulder the way his hands work in tandem to polish each nook and cranny of the gun. His vibraninum fingers curling around the body of it cause a shiver down your spine as you think about the nights you spend withering in his bed thanks to them. You shake those thoughts away and lay your head on his shoulder.

He brings one of your hands up and places his soft lips to your knuckles. “Fuck you smell so good. I knew you were coming before you hit the door.” He groans extending the kiss to your wrist before placing your hand back on his stomach.

“It’s your favorite, and you haven’t even seen the whole outfit yet.” 

He lets out another one of those heavenly chuckles. “Aw baby, did you get all dressed up for me?” The gun clicks shut and you feel yourself spinning around to face him.

“You like?” He takes your hand and you beam as he spins your once more. 

Since you were just going to a drive in movie, you paired a simple black top with your his favorite pair of dark gray baggy jeans that hug your waist and accentuate your ass just the way he likes. You couldn’t go wrong with some gold jewelry that shines beautifully on your brown skin. The whole look complimented itself.

Your 4c hair on the other hand didn’t want to cooperate this morning, the week old braid out was at its wits end and desperately needs all the mousse and gel washed out of it. So you did what you had to, found a giant hair tie, slicked your edges back and finger coiled a few strands in the front to give the look back some of it’s life. 

He nods biting his lip and looking you up and down. “You look just how you smell: decadent, like one of those death by chocolate cakes you love. And like you want to spend the rest of this weekend in my bed naked.” He smirks.

You hook your arms around his neck, step into the spot between his strong legs. “Well Mr. Barnes, we can’t have that. You promised me dinner and movie and the look’s not complete yet.” 

He raises a brow and dips his face to yours. “Oh yea,” he says huskily. “What could possibly be missing? You already have the body glitter.” The takes an imaginary bite out of your glazed arm. You nod at the leather jacket hanging on the hook by the door and he grins instantly.

“Go walkin’ around in that and everyone will know you’re mine.” He growls, his crystal blues deepening in hue flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.” You whisper against his lips tilting your head to connect them to yours.

His soft lips melted into yours perfectly, your hands pull on the hair tie locking away his silky locks and gently pull at them. He groans languidly licking into your mouth and swiftly lifting you into his lap, his hands holding firmly on your ass. Just like that it feels like the first time. Your heart beating heavily against your chest while you learn each other mouths. Tugging at his roots a bit more you nip his bottom lip and smile.

“You love playing with fire love.” 

You cheekily chuckle pulling back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He squeezes your cheeks then playfully smacks one inciting a gasp from you. “A dangerous, dangerous game that could cost you your night.”

“Aw but my favorite movie is playing.” Your fake pout morphs itself into a smirk. “Or maybe I wanted to makeout with my hot Brooklyn boyfriend in public without anyone knowing.” He bites his lip as you look at him with siren eyes.

“And people wonder why I can’t stop talking about you, my girl is a damn minx. Fuck it, lets go.” He sighs as you jump off his lap and grab his leather jacket.

While he’s securely putting away his rifle, you look over at him and smirk putting on the jacket. “Thanks daddy.”

His eyes go wide as you walk out the door giggling.

Gotta love date night.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡

AN: I was missing the character that brought me back to my passion, so this was really for me but yall can enjoy it too xox

as always likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated

[navybrat817]

Club Owner!Bucky sitting with a photo of you. He's excited for that date.

...Wait, where did he get the photo?

[sjsmith56]

First Date

Summary: A misdirected mail mishap results in a young woman, recently moved to New York City meeting the Avenger, Bucky Barnes. With Sam’s help Bucky asks her out then spends the week trying to come up with the perfect first date.

Length: 5K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, named OFC (Holly), unnamed OFC (sister).

Warnings: Both sisters are mostly not physically described, they’re single, slightly plus sized, nervous Bucky, some slightly impure thoughts from OFC, otherwise this is a pretty fluffy piece.

Author notes: Alternating first person POV between OFC and Bucky. Right now it’s a one shot but it could become more if I get enough feedback. Takes place in a slightly AU MCU, after the events of Endgame and FATWS (one where Bucky and Sam tackled the Flag Smashers themselves as the other Avengers were dealing with other things). There is a tease for a double date with Steve Rogers and Holly’s sister (Coney Island?) so if you would like to see another instalment please comment.

Second date Third date

📦

Holly

I stepped out of the elevator and stopped as soon as I saw the box leaning on my door. Another package. Great. This made four packages delivered to my address instead of the other address which was printed on the shipping label. Another package I had to physically take to the post office to deliver to the correct address. Another hour out of my day standing in line then having to explain that James Barnes didn’t live at my address, was unknown to me, and that he had an unlisted phone number so I couldn’t phone him to pick up his mail. Looking at my watch I sighed. It was already too late to take the package in if I was going to make it to my evening dance class. That meant I would have to take the package to work with me tomorrow then drop it off on my way home.

“Why don’t you just keep it?” my sister suggested when I mentioned it to her at the dance studio. “Obviously the guy keeps putting something wrong on the shipping information whenever he orders whatever he’s buying.”

“You know I can’t do that,” I replied as I started in first position. “If it was my package being misdirected, I would hope that whoever received it would be honest enough to return it. They don’t come back so they obviously make it to him eventually.”

“Or he cancels his order,” said my sister as she mimicked my actions.

“Ladies, less talk, more focus,” said Madame Elise, the ballet mistress.

We both made a face at her when she turned, then both tried to stifle our giggles after. For being in our early thirties we both had our juvenile moments. After class we dried off the perspiration before pulling our sweats on. We never showered at the studio as the facilities bordered on disgusting plus there was a core group of women there with perfect dancer bodies that made us feel inadequate. I’m not into body shaming and although they never said anything out loud it wasn’t hard to see their opinions about our figures in their eyes. Neither of us needed that kind of judgement especially when we were in between boyfriends. On our way out we stopped and picked up an iced cappuccino at the coffee shop then walked to the subway. Finishing our drinks just before the train arrived, we boarded.

When it came to my sister’s stop, she stood up, did a little pirouette and performed a jeté out the door onto the platform. Grinning at her I waved then settled back into the seat ready to get off at my stop, the next one. Joining the others who were also getting off we walked up the stairs towards the exit. I had to stop at the bodega as I was out of milk so by the time I was walking up the steps of the apartment building, it was already dark. Pressing the button for the elevator I waited and waited but it didn’t come, and I groaned as I really didn’t want to walk up five flights of stairs. It had been working well when I left. One of my neighbours came down the stairs with their garbage bag for the dumpster out back.

“It was working earlier,” I stated, gesturing to the elevator.

“Yeah, it was but someone pressed all the buttons as a joke, and it got stuck on four,” he said. “It’s sitting there with an open door. The super called a repairman, but they won’t be in until tomorrow.” He headed towards the door to the alley. “You have someone waiting for you at your door. A big guy. I think he used to live there before you. Something about his mail still being redirected to your address.”

With a sigh I began the long climb up to the fifth floor. There was a man leaning against the wall outside my door. He must have heard me coming up the stairs as he looked in my direction as I exited the stairwell. Even from that distance I was aware of his size, tall and broad shouldered. His dark hair, just long enough to kiss the collar of his jacket, framed a very handsome face highlighted by a pair of incredible blue eyes.

“Hi,” he said casually, with a slight wave of his hand, before he put his phone back in his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry to bother you but the post office screwed up the redirection of my old mail, most of it anyways. They’ve been sending things with my new address on the shipping label back to here.”

“That explains it I guess.” I smiled at him. “Mr. Barnes, is it? I tried to find a way to call but there was no listing for your name. I would have dropped the packages off, but the other address is so far away, and I don’t have a car.”

“Call me Bucky.” His eyes lit up as he smiled. “Not a problem. I’ll leave you my number so if any more mail shows up here, I can pick it up at your convenience.”

Between the time I unlocked my door, and I went inside to retrieve his package I realized who he was. He was still waiting in the hallway, which struck me as odd, until I recalled that I hadn’t invited him in. Looking towards the open door I could see him waiting there patiently.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I stammered. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure,” he answered, stepping just inside, looking a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to presume anything.”

“Did you get the other packages that I returned?” I asked, holding the most recent package in my hands. “I would have brought them over but it’s quite the train ride from here to Midtown.”

“Yes, they did arrive, not that it fixed things.” His smile was warm. “I wouldn’t have expected you to do the Post Office’s job.” He looked a little more at the small flat. “You fixed it up nice here, much nicer than I had it.”

“You lived here for how long?” I asked. “I’ve been here two months.”

“Almost a year,” he replied. “After I got some legal matters cleared up, I had to live in the New York area. This was affordable and it wasn’t far from where I grew up.”

There was an awkward silence, so I stepped forward at the same time he did, intending to give him his package. In the light of my apartment, he was even more handsome, and I tried desperately to think of something to say to him, but my mind went blank, and I smiled politely instead. He took the package and nodded, then turned around, walking out.

“Wait, your phone number!” I called, running to the doorway.

He was at the top of the stairs and sheepishly came back. I unlocked my phone and offered it to him, to enter his information in. Looking at it I sent him a text, then watched as he took his phone out, seeing my name, Holly, which in my blank state of mind had forgotten to give him earlier.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, as my attention was focused on those beautiful eyes. “I won’t forget who it belongs to.”

“Thank you, it’s been nice meeting you,” I replied.

He headed back down the stairs, and I closed the door, setting the deadbolt in place. I had just met an Avenger. 🔹

Bucky

Sam was still sitting in the driver’s seat, checking his phone when I stepped out of Holly’s building and up to the truck.

“That took you long enough,” he said.

“She wasn’t home, and I wasn’t leaving without my package,” I replied. “You must have seen her coming in. Tall, dark haired, wearing sweats.”

He shrugged. “Pretty?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I got so tongue tied. Said I would leave her my phone number then I almost left without giving it to her.”

“You get her number? Did you ask her out?”

“What, already?” I sighed again. “That’s a bit quick, isn’t it?”

“What would old Bucky have done?” he asked. “Would he have asked her out right away?”

“Yeah, but I’m not him anymore.”

“Give me your phone.”

Sam held his hand out. With a third sigh I handed it to him. He tapped out a message and sent it then handed my phone back so I could read what he sent.

Me: Are you free Friday night? I understand if you have other plans. Just thought we could meet for drinks, or I could pick you up. You don’t have to feel obligated or anything.

I couldn’t believe he did that, and I almost started texting to take it back when I got a reply.

Her: I am free on Friday night. We could meet somewhere, or you could pick me up. I’m good either way. Nothing too fancy. I’m not into that.

Staring at my phone screen I tried to think of what to say, not wanting to sound desperate or needy.

Me: Okay! I’ll pick you up at 7:30. You okay with riding a motorcycle?

Her: Sure, that means jeans and a jacket, right? I don’t have a helmet.

Me: I have a spare. Looking forward to it. See you then.

I had a date, an actual date, with a nice-looking girl … woman. Bad habit. I showed Sam and he grinned.

“See, old Bucky is still there. Where are you going?”

I looked at him and swallowed. Old Bucky would have taken a girl out in style, dinner, then dancing, then whatever came from that. But I had already told her that I was picking her up by motorcycle, which meant casual, which meant something outdoors, or a movie, or sightseeing. He started the truck up to drive back to Avengers Tower, making suggestions along the way.

“Empire State Building.”

“Heights, you know how I am about heights,” I answered.

He nodded. “Yankees are in town. You could take her to a ball game.”

I glared at him. Never, ever would I go see the Yankees play. Mets, maybe, but I had hated the Yankees since I was a boy, and I wasn’t about to change that. Sam didn’t say anything more until we got back to the Tower and up to the common room area where the others were gathered, watching Jeopardy. I held up my package, which brought some half-hearted cheers.

“Someone has a date Friday night,” announced Sam. “He’s picking her up on his motorcycle at 7:30 and needs some suggestions.”

“Empire State Building,” said Tony.

“He doesn’t like heights,” stated Steve. “Ball game?”

“Only the Yankees are in town,” replied Sam. “He nearly bit my head off when I suggested it.”

Steve grinned and shook his head, picturing that. He knew how I felt about the Yankees because he felt the same.

“The museum,” he countered. “There’s a new art exhibit.”

I shook my head. “That’s your thing, not mine. It’s okay. I’ll come up with something before Friday.”

Using my phone, I looked up all sorts of things to do in New York but kept finding something wrong with them. Either they were too formal, which I really didn’t want, or they were too noisy and crowded, which I really didn’t need. Some of them appealed to me but started and ended early, meaning the date could be over by 9 pm which didn’t appeal to the old Bucky in me. By Friday morning I was ready to cancel the date then Tony Stark turned to me in the elevator.

“I sent you an email,” he said. “Two suggestions. Take them or leave them. But the first part might be interesting for both of you and the second might be a bit nostalgic for you. The best part is that they’re not far apart and you might be able to do both, if it’s going well.” The elevator doors opened on the lab floor, and he stopped in the elevator doorway, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “I hope you have a good time no matter what you end up doing. You deserve that much.”

When I read the email, I smiled. This might not be so bad. 🔹

Holly

After Bucky left, I called my sister to tell her I had a date with the Avenger, Bucky Barnes, and that he was the one whose packages were being redirected back to his old address, now my apartment. She said something about me having all the luck as she thought Steve Rogers was absolutely dreamy. I didn’t rub it in. The next day she sent me a text.

Her: Empire State Building. He’s taking you to the top, to view all of New York. It’s right out of Sleepless in Seattle.

Me: I’ve read he’s not big on heights, due to surviving that big fall in World War II.

A few hours later she sent another text.

Her: Yankees ball game. They’re hosting the Red Sox.

The answer to that was obvious to me.

Me: He’s a Brooklyn Dodgers fan. No self-respecting Dodgers fan would ever cheer for the Yankees.

On Thursday, she texted again.

Her: Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art.

Me: 🫤

That meant I wasn’t into it. On Friday morning, after several days of sending more suggestions she texted another.

Her: Harbour cruise.

That actually wasn’t a bad idea. Wearing jeans and a jacket would keep me warm out on the water. A harbour cruise would start and end at the same pier and a motorcycle would be easier to park in the crowded area. I looked up the cruises then texted my sister back. They all started at 7:00 and he was picking me up at 7:30 so it couldn’t be a cruise. Then Bucky sent me a text.

Him: We’re still on for tonight, right? We’re going to be taking a walking tour in Greenwich Village so wear good shoes. Then we can have a late dinner at a 24-hour diner near the East Village.

Me: Absolutely. That sounds like fun. Hopefully, it doesn’t rain.

Why did I say that about the rain? Now I had introduced the thought that rain could potentially ruin our date. He sent me a reply.

Him: No rain in the forecast. I’ll see you at 7:30.

I smiled. Obviously, he had already thought of the possibility. When I texted my sister with the itinerary, she sent me a thumbs up emoji. It was looking to be a fun date, with no pressure. At 7:25 there was a knock on my door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw that it was Bucky, and opened the door.

“Hi,” I said. “Come on in.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back, producing a bouquet of mixed flowers. “These are for you.” He seemed a little embarrassed. “I always brought flowers on the first date back in the day.”

I was touched as it was a very sweet gesture. “Thank you, I’ll just put them in some water. Make yourself comfortable.”

He wiped his feet on the doormat and stepped in further, sitting down on the sofa. As he stretched his long legs out, I found a vase and filled it with water. Smiling politely, he watched me then stood up and came over to the small kitchen island.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“I’m nervous,” he admitted. “I had a date a while ago and messed it up when I had a bit of an anxiety attack partway through. She wouldn’t talk to me after that. Can’t say I blame her.” He breathed out noticeably.

“You feeling nervous now?”

“A little.” He fixed those gorgeous eyes on me. “I’m 106 years old, haven’t really dated since the 1940s and some days I feel so old and out of place. I used to be quite the ladies' man before the war.” He breathed out again. “My friend Sam sent the original text as I didn’t think a nice-looking girl like you would go out with me.”

“I haven’t had a date in a few months,” I told him. “Before then I had a boyfriend who told me that I would be prettier if I lost 20 pounds or so. He wasn’t my boyfriend after that. I know I’m not perfect, but I like who I am. Do you want to go out with me still?” He nodded, then smiled and said yes. “Then we’ll go out. I think you’re a gentleman first, and I liked that you brought me flowers, and I liked hearing you call me a nice-looking girl.”

When I brought my jacket out, he helped me on with it, then waited patiently as I locked the door. Down at the sidewalk was his motorcycle, one of those classic ones that usually cost an arm and a leg. He unlocked the security compartment, bringing out a helmet for me. Making sure it fit properly he put his on, zipped up his leather jacket, and straddled the seat, gesturing for me to get on behind him.

“Hold on tight,” he said. “If it’s too much for you, pat my front two times and I’ll pull over. I’m a safe driver and I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

Placing my purse crossways over my body I got on behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle. Even through his jacket I could feel how firm his abdomen was. For a brief moment I pictured him shirtless (yes, it was nice) and giggled then put the thought out of my head as I leaned against his back. The rumble of the motorcycle was loud, even inside my helmet but as soon as he put it into gear it lessened slightly. The motorcycle proved to be the perfect vehicle as he could easily get out of any traffic snarl quickly and just over 20 minutes later, we arrived at Washington Square Park. After locking our helmets back inside the security compartment, he held his right hand out to me and guided me to where a small group of people were waiting. We checked in and waited for the rest of the people to arrive.

🔹

Bucky

Even though I was recognized by the tour guide I kept my attention on Holly, making sure that she didn’t feel ignored. She took my hand again as we waited for the rest of the people. When they arrived, our tour began with a history of Washington Square Park, including the fact that it was a native burial ground as well as a cemetery used to bury the dead of the American Revolution. Apparently, they still occasionally found human remains whenever an excavation had to be done on repairing utilities. We also went to what was called the Pirate’s Den, connected to a notorious woman, named Vivian Gordon, murdered in late February 1931.

“I was 12, almost 13 years old,” I blurted out. “I think I remember that. Wasn’t the mayor of New York implicated in that murder?”

The tour guide looked at me, smiling. “I can safely say that this is the first time I’ve had a participant who was around for one of the older historical events in this tour.”

It got everyone laughing and Holly squeezed my hand, smiling at me. From there we were shown where Mark Twain lived, and where his ghost apparently made appearances. The tour guide had a device that supposedly could show the presence of a ghost electronically, but it didn’t show anything there, although it did on other places that we stopped at, specifically the Brown Building, where the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire occurred, killing over 140 women. After an hour of walking and stopping at various landmarks the tour ended back at Washington Square Park. I slipped the tour guide an extra $20 and mentally thanked Tony Stark for suggesting the activity. It had been interesting, and I think Holly liked it as well. She looked over my arm as I checked the address of the diner.

“It’s close enough to walk, about twenty minutes,” I said. “Would you mind if we left the motorcycle here, so I don’t have to find another parking spot?”

“Not at all,” she responded, taking my hand again.

Making sure I was walking between Holly and the street we strolled along without speaking, not that we needed to fill the silence with anything. Instead, we just enjoyed each other's presence. We did have to dodge a guy on a skateboard that zipped towards us, but Holly just casually turned towards me as he passed.

“Sorry,” she said, as her other hand reached for my chest, and I put my other arm around her. “He came out of nowhere.”

“It was worth it,” I said, without thinking.

It was something old Bucky would say. Her face lit up as she smiled at my reply. Patting my chest with her hand, she looked up in a way that brought back memories of previous dates. I almost kissed her then she dropped her hand and returned to walking beside me, her hand firmly in mine. When we arrived at the diner Holly’s face seemed pleased.

“I didn’t know about this place!”

“Tony Stark suggested it,” I replied, holding the door open for her.

It was bright inside, considered retro for the 21st century with its checkerboard flooring, booths with padded seats, and the older lighting fixtures. In the 1940s it would have been seen as futuristic with its many curved lines in the finishings. We were seated in a booth where our knees touched. I was about to ask to be moved but she just smiled and said it didn’t bother her. It reminded me of when Sam and I first started working together during the Flag Smashers, and we had the impromptu therapy session inside the Baltimore police station. Before I could tell Holly about it, the waitress arrived to take our drink orders. Not wanting to give her the wrong impression I ordered a coffee. She ordered a chocolate milkshake and asked for a starter of mozzarella sticks. Quietly, we looked at the menu, although I tried to look at her some more. When our drinks arrived Holly ordered a chicken wrap and salad. I ordered the meatloaf special, and a bacon cheddar burger with fries on the side. Before I could explain she looked at me with some amusement.

“So, it’s true?” she asked, her eyes bright. “Super soldiers have to eat a lot of food to keep their energy up. I envy you. I wish I could eat like that.”

“It’s true but it’s not always enjoyable,” I replied. “After really heavy missions that take a lot out of us, I barely have enough energy to eat at all, but I have to force myself. Bruce … Bruce Banner, invented a supplement for me and Steve to boost our calorie intake and give us instant energy, but it’s not the best tasting and the texture is kind of awful.”

“I guess that would be a downside,” she offered. “My sister has a crush on him, on Steve.” She clarified. “She’s my best friend and we would have lived together but she got here a year before I did, found a place to share and co-signed the lease. When I decided to move here, I had to find my own place because she was locked into the lease with her roommate. We’re only one stop away from each other and we see each other a lot.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

I was asking because I knew Holly would appeal to Steve and if her sister was like her, perhaps she would be good to double date with. That would be something, a double date with Steve that might actually work in his favour as he was still as hopeless now with the ladies as he was in the 1940s.

“She’s between boyfriends right now.” A smile crossed Holly’s face that lit her up from inside. “You thinking of fixing her up with Steve Rogers?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I tried. Even though he is more handsome now he’s still the same shy guy he was when we were younger. Takes him weeks just to get up the courage to say hi to a girl.”

She was leaning towards me with her chin resting on her hand. “I like how you call me a girl. It’s supposed to be a put down in these times, but I guess to someone of your age, someone my age is a girl. I’m not offended by it, although I guess some are.”

Just like that Holly put me even more at ease. Our mozzarella sticks arrived, and she took the first one dipping it into the sauce. Tentatively I bit into one, then smiled as the cheese stretched out from my mouth to the stick. Holly giggled a little as we grappled with the strings of cheese. Our main food arrived just as we finished the last of the appetizer. Holly stole some of my fries which didn’t bother me at all. For dessert I had apple pie à la mode, while she had chocolate cake.

Tony had good instincts referring me to this place. It was informal enough that neither one of us tried to impress the other. We talked more about all sorts of things, my love of books, her love of dancing, our shared interest in science and technology. After I paid the bill, I opened the door to the outside and we stepped out into the night, which had cooled down a little since our tour. We headed back towards the park where my motorcycle was parked. As we got closer, we could hear the sounds of music and applause.

“Street performers!” exclaimed Holly. “Please, can we watch?”

How could I say no?

🔹

Holly

Watching the street performers with Bucky was something else. He had never seen buskers like this before. Jugglers with fire sticks, catchy music and clever repartee were just the beginning. There were some aerial gymnasts doing all sorts of tricks that displayed their acrobatic abilities. A pair of guys with tap shoes danced to hip hop in ways that successfully melded the two forms of entertainment. Another guy with a bmx bicycle did all sorts of twists, turns and jumps including some on an obviously home-made ramp that defied gravity. It was an explosion of sight, sound, and colour that intrigued him, making him so much fun to be with, not to mention even more gorgeous. I gave some money to the hats that were passed around, explaining this was probably how many of the buskers made a living. He added some of his own. When we finally pulled away and began the walk to his motorcycle Bucky couldn’t stop talking about how entertaining it all was.

“Does this happen all the time here?” he asked. “Tony never said anything about it but if it does, then I owe him. That was amazing, just amazing.”

We were holding hands and he stopped at the motorcycle, pulling me closer. It was like we were in a movie as he looked so softly at me, making me feel all sorts of things, both good and kind of scary because I had never been this close to someone like him. Most of my dates were of the nerdy kind, nice but slightly socially inept. This was Bucky Barnes, handsome, notorious, and an absolute dreamboat. When our lips met, I swear there was music. Of course, we were only a block away from the park where the entertainment was still going on, but the sounds from there just seemed to add to the romance in our little moment of kissing. He could really kiss … I guess that’s something a guy doesn’t forget, no matter what kind of hell he’s been through.

“I should have asked first,” he murmured when we stopped. “I suppose I got caught up in the moment.”

“Why don’t you ask then?” I replied, looking up at him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

The second kiss was even better as it was accompanied by his arms wrapping themselves around me and mine wrapping themselves around him, bringing thoughts of him shirtless and more, to my mind again. This kiss also lasted a lot longer before we stopped, and he looked at me.

“I should get you home,” he said, not sounding completely convinced by his own words.

We got back onto the motorcycle, pulling up in front of my building a short time later. After dismounting I took my helmet off then handed it to him.

“I had a really good time,” I said. “Would you like to come up?”

Even in the dim light I could tell he was blushing. “If this was the 1940s, I would have said yes, but I’m not that Bucky anymore. I kind of played the field then and I want something more than that now.”

He really was something else and I looked at him with my heart racing a little. “So, you want a second date?”

“Yes, do you?” I replied yes and we kissed again, a really nice and sweet kiss. “Then I’ll call you soon. I promise.”

I went inside the door of the building and up the now working elevator. When I got inside the small flat, I looked out the window and smiled to see that Bucky was still waiting beside his motorcycle, apparently watching for me to appear. He waved to me, then put his helmet on and started up the motorcycle before pulling away. It might have been just a first date, but it was one of the best dates I had ever been on, and I hope Bucky felt the same.

If you read this one shot and enjoyed it please like, comment and reblog.

[simplevanquish]

You Gotta Know (You Know That I Adore You)

Filling out two spaces here with this fic! 'And they were roommates' and 'Date night'. This is like last minute @sambuckylibrary but this was fun to write for the loving bingo card for sambuckysummer hehe Very short summary: my sambucky roommate au: extended. Date Night Rating: Teen and Up

(It is a sequel to this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54882493 but you can absolutely read it on it's own)

Sam has come to find out that, in a way, dating Bucky is very freeing for his conscience.

Where beforehand he would lean against the counter and watch Bucky with conflicting emotions telling him that staring so obviously at his roommate was very rude and weird while crushing on him- now he can admire all he wants.

When Bucky offers a shy or smug or content smile- well Sam can appreciate it without worrying if he's being 'too obvious'. He can reach over and kiss that smile, one spreading across his own face as he pulls back and watches Bucky squint at him, nearly confused, the hold he has on his phone going limp.

Sam laughs a little, backing up on the couch they've draped their limbs across indiscriminately. "Sorry, Bucky, you had this little thing called a smile on your face."

Bucky shakes his head ever so slightly, a faint movement as he rolls his eyes lightheartedly.

"Clearly, I'm not the only one," He says, putting his phone down to the side and leaning towards Sam. Based on the messy way their splayed about, Bucky has to fit himself between his own thigh as well as Sam's. A tangle of arms and legs and whatever else the human body carries, Sam isn't bothered to know. He's too busy watching Bucky reach an arm around him, nearly laying on top of him, and give him this squeeze of a hug he gives with a hum.

If there is another thing that Sam has come to learn since dating Bucky, it's that the man loves to touch. In no way is Sam upset when he says that he can't stand by the counter without the risk of Bucky closing in on him and wrapping his arms around him, Sam's back pressed against his chest before Sam turns around with smirk or a flustered expression- depending on the degree of it all.

Sam soaks it all in like a sponge in a lazy river, it's all so smooth the way Bucky holds him, bare arms sneaking around Sam's back and lifting him slightly of the couch because yeah, Bucky is handomsely strong and his arms make Sam drool (he isn't bad himself, but seeing the muscles on Bucky- Sam has a crush on that guy, not himself, so duh, it's different when Bucky is the strong one). Bucky's leg is pressed against his own chest, his other being trapped as Sam throws his own leg over it, pulling Bucky in with a hand on the back of his neck.

By God, if it's the physical touch that Bucky wants, then he shall receive. Sam has absolutely no problem indulging in however Bucky likes to show his affection.

Bucky kisses his jawline, leaning back a bit and Sam watches his frame move around, muscles flexing, and he lets his head hit the couch with a cheeky smile as he slaps a hand against Bucky's bicep. "See this? Ridiculous," Sam claims sarcastically, watching Bucky's eyes flicker to his arm for a moment before he huffs. Sam raises his hand, tucking a bit of Bucky's hair behind his ear in the way they do in a whole lot of romance movies. But normally it's some blonde women with the wind making her hair unruly. Here, though, Bucky's face just gets a little pink, no wind, and his brown beautiful hair and broad shoulders with his chest on display. "You're unfairly attractive- dude- do not look at me like that."

Bucky blinks like he doesn't look like the most perfect man in the world has gotten somebody just as perfect to share life with. He's glancing at Sam like perhaps Sam was all he ever really needed in life, maybe it was written in the books- in stone, in sand- that Bucky would make it this far to meet Sam. He loves the look, it makes him melt, his fingers sliding against Bucky's neck like lava down the slope, heat rising to the surface of his cheeks as his heart leaps, daring to rocket out of his chest all for Bucky.

It feels like a lot, it feels a little much, but it feels like it's just right when Bucky's palm flattens against the middle of his back and blushes with his forehead bumping Sam's shoulder.

"I'm not looking at you like anything," He defends, words mumbled into Sam's shirt, the slow tread of the day ahead leaving them to take their time here with tender movements and hazy, unguided, and lingering touches.

"Oh but you are."

Bucky hums, very low commitment and not convinced which makes Sam groan, meeting Bucky's still so gorgeous blue eyes as he continues.

"You're staring at me like I've- like I'm the winning lottery ticket a broke man's been needin."

Bucky pauses, brows furrowing as he tries to solve Sam's attempt at explaining it, at explaining what it means to him, and he doesn't blame how Bucky cocks his head to the side, confused for moment.

"And this is bad?"

Sam shuts his eyes for a moment as he sighs, then cuffs Bucky's face in both of his hands. "No, man. No."

"Good," Bucky says calmly, pulling himself back, a steady release of the knot they've tied their bodies into, easing back into his original spot on the couch before they dismissed any sense of formal behavior and just got as close as possible. "Cus maybe you are, man."

Sam coughs, a quick action, but it happens nonetheless as he takes in Bucky's response, face searing, burning terribly as he shoots up to sit on the couch properly. Obviously Sam wasn't prepared for Bucky to actually engage in this excuse of verbal flirtation- mostly it's in the body language with this man- but Sam takes it joyfully as he raises a brow, sending a quizzical look over at his boyfriend.

He's about to say something- what? He doesn't know. But then Bucky is nodding his head towards the wall behind Sam with a casual expression, his bashfulness exiting as he squints.

"Should we put something there?" He asks.

Sam whips his head around, finding exactly what Bucky is referring to because heck, even he's thought about the same question before. There was an empty wall left after they got fully settled, one that has yet to be filled unlike the others that display old family photos or are occupied by shelves and potted plants, anything really to make it more homey and personalized.

"How much do you read, Bucky?"

"Not enough for what you're suggesting."

"Yeah, I don't want a buncha books anyway," Sam resigns, facing away from the vacant area quietly waiting to be subjected to a bit of decorating. Not today, probably. He thinks back on it for a brief moment and comes to the conclusion that a bookshelf would be a bit too bulky for the space anyways.

Before they can throw out any other ideas, Sam's phone goes off from where it sits on tv stand. He makes a noise of exaggerated exhaustion, patting Bucky's shoulder twice before he parts, sliding off the couch and walking up the ringing sound of his alarm.

Unfortunately, the day ahead is starting, and Sam has to get ready for work. He turns the obnoxious loop of an alarm off and pockets his phone.

"Work?" Bucky asks, peeking up at him from behind the arm he's thrown over his face, hair a mess.

"Yeah," Sam says with a sigh, then starts trudging to his room.  "Guess I can't sit around and stare at some shirtless prince charmin' all day, huh?"

Bucky opens his mouth with a comment, stumbling for a split second as Sam raises his brows teasingly. Bucky brings his arm down, revealing his full face, and tries to act disappointed all the while his face flushes just the tiniest bit. It always amuses Sam how easy it is to make Bucky fluster about just because of his words. He smiles, fond of the sight as Bucky crosses his arms across his bare chest.

"God, Sam, get outta here with that."

"With what?"

"It's corny, yknow," He declares, tipping a thumb towards Sam dismissively before leaning back in the couch and throwing his legs over the edge.

"Right, right," Sam starts, waving away Bucky. "I'll consider that when you stop blushing."

"I'm not-"

"Sorry, what was that?" He calls, holding a hand to his ear and watching Bucky craft a dramatic grumpy expression before Sam dips around the corner. "I think my ears struggle to hear lies."

And Sam likes to think morning's have never been this easy until Bucky came along.

"Are you done staring?" 

Sam Wilson blinks because no, he wasn't staring at her. Well, her hair. Maybe that's a yes then. He shakes his head, attempting a chill movement as he reclines in his chair.

"Course not." He tries, then his eyes shift back over to Natasha crosses her arms. "But uh, something looks different- a new lipstick? Did ya get your nails done?"

Natasha smiles, skipping over the whole acting annoyed bit as she uncrosses her arms and places them on her hips. "It's not bad, is it?"

And the truth is no, it's just very, very different. Natasha has always had long and beautiful hair since they day they met. Just like she did last week. But Sam came into work today to be met with a short haired Natasha, hair bleached a platinum blonde that doesn't even manage to touch her shoulders- possible graze over.

"It's new," He says and Natasha frowns for a moment, disappointed, before Sam holds up a pointer finger. "But it's not bad. At all."

"I'm trying to figure out if I should believe you or not," She tells him, walking forward to take her spot in front of him, leaning a hand on the desk and sending a short glare at him, hoping it will somehow will an honest answer out of him.

He wouldn't lie, of course, about Natasha's hair. He attempts to prove such, holding up his hands in a way to ask for mercy as he shrugs. "Honest, it's a good different. The red was iconic-"

Natasha raises a brow.

"But," Sam adds in, placing his hands on his knees. "You're rockin the blonde. Honest."

Natasha rolls her eyes, sliding away with a nonchalant sigh. "It's not real, but fine, I'll trust you."

"It's not r-" He pauses, squinting intently at her new hairstyle as he searches for a sign. "It's a wig?"

She smiles simply. "Didn't know if I'd like it, truth be told. Thought I'd test it out before I make any big decisions," She explains and Sam nods, it's a fair reason. Then she shrugs, looking elsewhere. "Plus, I've got a ton of wigs that haven't been worn in a while. Thought'd it be fun."

Sam brings his head back in a short and quick movement, his glance averting from his friend to the side with a look of suspicion. But in the end, he guesses it's nothing really to look into, let the women wear her wigs, he declares, and holds up his hands in surrender at his own confusion as he twirls the chair back around. "To each their own."

"For now I think I'll stick to to natural- you're not the only one who seems hesitant, yknow. Myself included."

"Okay, wait- wait-" Sam begins, shaking his head for his own personal defense as he sends her a look. "I was not hesitant. It was just different. Whatever you wanna do is up to you, but I wasn't hesitant."

Natasha barely considers any of his rantings before she taps on his desk. "Fine, well, moving on from this," She says, bobbling her head so her hair sways around for a moment. "How are things going with you and that guy? Bucky?" She confirms the name with a nod from Sam before she carries on. "Yeah, how are you two?"

"We're good," He says, raising a shoulder that he tilts his head down towards in a poor attempt at a shrug, a smile threatening to pull at his lips as he clasps his hands together. "Uh, yeah, nah, it's real good. Bucky, he's fun. I think you'd like him."

Natasha hums, curiosity simmering behind her eyes as she squints, memory trialing back to her, and she tips a finger towards him in acknowledgement. "Oh, right, have you taken him on a real date yet?" She asks, an all kind and genuine question but Sam feels a sense of fatigue climb behind his eyes and make them dry as he sighs, pushing off the ground slightly, chair tilting. "Cus, yknow, you said that the other one didn't count."

"Because it didn't," He says and Natasha knocks her foot against the pole part of the chair, causing Sam to stumble a bit due to him leaning about in it. He centers himself before putting his elbows on his desk and scooting in. She backs up, watching closely as he shakes his head. "But no, I haven't yet.  I've been trying to, though," He confesses, eyes darting over to the lined paper sitting at the edge of his desk filled with various ideas crossed out, the occasional 'too expensive' or 'no spots left' written about in blue ink.

"What, do you need some ideas?" She questions, pursing her lips as she thinks for moment, then bends her knees a little to reach his level as she starts to count them off on her hand. "Fancy rsvp-"

"Too broke or too full," Sam states with a slight laugh, watching as Natasha spares a small smile in return before pursuing her little brainstorm session.

"The movies?"

"There aren't really any good films that have come out that we haven't already seen," He says truthfully and Natasha's brows furrow, trying to possibly salvage a solution.

"Well, sometimes it's okay if the movie is bad, right?"

Sam scoffs, looking over at her with a hand held up to shield his mouth like he's telling a secret despite nobody else listening. "That man is surprisingly picky when it comes to film. I thought he would watch just about anything, but Bucky just bores himself with the majority of it."

Natasha huffs, this substitute of a laugh, and offers a smile with knotted brows. "He does like some movies, though, right?"

Sam nods, settling into his chair. "Of course, just mostly watching the same ones- oh except those educational children shows- don't tell anyone but I have caught him fuckin engrossed in them a few times."

Natasha has an entertained expression on her face as she laughs, standing back up straight and firmly nodding. "I won't tell anyone, I don't think anyone cares, anyway, Sam."

"He does," Sam says, sliding the paper of ideas to the middle of his desk and sliding it under his arm to keep it there before looking back at her. "He quoted a fact from one of them channels and when I told him where I think he saw it from he said 'oh, no, it was the internet'."

"Okay, first official date idea: learn things about the solar system together!" She cheers, playfully suggesting the thought as Sam puts on a mock offended face. "Sounds real cute, don't it?"

"I'll ask Bucky, for sure." Sam shakes his head in contradiction to his words as he glances down at the paper again, reviewing all the possibilities of a first date he's recorded.

Discovering and reviewing scientific facts found on a public education channel directed towards children isn't on there, but oh for sure, he'll definitely ask.

If it wasn't made apparent enough, Sam does indeed not ask Bucky.

Instead he spends the evening sitting on his bed surrounded by two- no three crumpled papers laying on his blankets, one of the three fallen to the floor in his flash of frustration.

This time, each paper is written in red ink, but the content he's writing down basically all but remains the same.

Date ideas.

Sam doesn't know why all of a sudden he's like a fish out of water, all touch and thoughts lost at sea where he is left here to shrivel up, all dried out.

He doesn't think even half of these ideas are good enough for Bucky. A museum? Maybe it'd appeal to the part of Bucky eager to learn a bunch of stuff but really- what if there's actually nothing interesting there? He crosses that off, excessive strides of ink blocking the proposal out.

He groans, frustrated and his head starting to gain the most faint but still approaching ache. He rubs at it, wondering where all that creativity went from back when he was forced to do projects for school. He bombed those, absolutely. No here he is with not even so much as a fuse to light, no good ideas sparking in his brain.

It's been a week and he still hasn't asked Bucky out on an official date. Sam tries to reason with himself that maybe it's okay because Bucky hasn't asked either.

But also Sam had been so oblivious and basically sorta led to leaving Bucky to make the first move, so maybe it was Sam's turn to take the initiative here and ask- maybe Bucky is waiting.

Clearly  Bucky is thinking of something, Sam has seen it. Sam will be reading some article about what they could possible do in this urban city that they find themselves in, living a life, and just trying to find a bit of romance and companionship within each other. And then when Sam has found nothing good or that they haven't maybe already at least partially done as 'just friends'- Sam clicks out of the article with exasperation towards the absence of an answer. Soon after Bucky would try to pry into him like there's something he knows, or has to, at least. Sam has been noticing it the more that he's been trying to put together a date. It shouldn't be this hard, something about overthinking blocking his supposedly clear pathway to success.

But he wants it to be just right.

However, Bucky keeps eyeing him throughout it, trying to figure out a puzzle of his own, and it sorta makes Sam put on extra pressure to just get over himself and pick one thing.

"Dammit," He curses, realizing that apparently pens from junior high do in fact have their day marked on a calendar, a moment bound to happen eventually as red ink starts to become sparse and thin before disappearing all together. His furious and invisible scribble on the paper comes to a halt when there's a knock on the door.

"You all good in there, Sam?" Bucky asks and Sam can hear the concern shift as he carries on, morphing into something so lovingly but eye-roll worthy sarcastic. "Coulda sworn it was a party over here just a moment ago."

"Ha, ha." Sam deadpans, recalling how he snuck into his room and has been sitting here all silent and focused ever since. So there wasn't even a smidge of partying, but Bucky is terrible at jokes like that, loves it all, and Sam just sighs. "I guess you can come in, then."

Bucky opens the door, peeking his head in through first as he scans the room, finding Sam shoving his papers and notebook off the bed, letting it tumble to the floor unceremoniously. He snaps his gaze at Sam in a quizzing manner, raising a brow, then blinking back down at the notebook.

"Whatcha need?" Sam asks, legs crossed as he flexes his hands, settling them on his knees and cocking his head to the side in an attempt to redirect Bucky's attention. Admittedly, it might be embarrassing should Bucky pick up the notebook and look all over Sam's attempts to find something suitable for a first date.

"Well, I guess-" Bucky rolls his shoulders, this little movement Sam has begun to notice Bucky does when he's just a little on the edge, possibly nervous, trying to find the right way to say things because apparently this beautiful man in front of him doesn't consider words to be a strong suit of his own. So Sam waits, meeting Bucky's gaze when he seems to regain his confidence, patting down the sides of his legs before shrugging. "I could use a little insight on how you're doing? Lately you seem..." Bucky huffs, eyes drifting above Sam to the wall behind before he frowns. "Like there's an extra thing you got to carry."

Sam stops the slow tapping of his fingers on his knees, quickly looking up at Bucky before his shoulders raise, and he lets out a puff of air.

"I mean-" He cuts himself off, deciding not to skip around the whole thing in an attempt to fish out a believable excuse as he looks away. "I dunno. Maybe I have been? But I shouldn't. I'm just chronically overthinking it all."

"Overthinking what?"

"Nothing," He says then internally winces because that's a big lie, and he instantly shakes his head, holding his hands out as he takes it back. "Not nothing! Actually, it's something, I just-"

But then Bucky is moving towards him, a soft look in his eyes that kinda melts Sam so much it takes him a second to comprehend that Bucky has also bent over and picked up a messily rolled up piece of notebook paper before joining him on the bed.

"Does it have anything to do with all these tossed papers?" He questions and Sam knows he's never been all that good at keeping a secret, not one like this where the whole point was for it to matter- to tell somebody- to invite Bucky.

"Maybe," he says at a last attempt to ditch the subject, but Bucky is unphased, holding steady until Sam crumbles into the gingerness that shows beneath the blue of his eyes and he waves a hand. "Yeah- yes. Sure."

Bucky hums, opening it up a bit all while watching Sam closely. Sam lets him, of course, he has a good guess that if it was something he really didn't want Bucky to see, Bucky would respect that (but not without being a little suspicious, of course).

When Sam urges him to get along with it, Bucky's eyes switch towards the paper, finding red letters scrambled together in Sam's efforts at collecting information from the internet. Most words are crossed out. Sam squeezes his thumbs as he watches Bucky's eyes trace over red possibilities meant to involve the two of them together.

He feels his face flush, warmth suffocating him as he reads over it too and cringes when he is met with 'jazz club. romantic type tho fr' written hastily.

"Uhm." Sam clears his throat, reaching for the paper. Bucky lets him have it before glancing at him curiously. "So, yeah, that's what that is, Buck. I-"

"You've been stressed about this?" Bucky asks him and it doesn't sound like he's judging him, so Sam finds it in himself to ease up a little, if anything Bucky sounds both concerned and amused, once again something he knows as Sam nods slowly.

"Yeah dude."

Bucky then chuckles, this genuine thing that leaves him with a smile on his face and rosy cheeks.

Sam, however, is at a loss. He frowns. "What?"

Bucky just smiles wider, so Sam crosses his arms. "Seriously, Bucky, what?"

"I've been preparing a date for us, yknow," Bucky says simply, like oh yeah, Sam totally knew- even the reason Bucky is laughing is because Sam didn't. It makes Sam choke on his own words before he can even register the tint of irony in this situation.

"Please."

"I'm serious." Bucky promises, a bit of his hair falling in front of his face, slightly disrupting Sam's clear shot of blue eyes but it's alright because his hair, despite how it might not have been brushed at all today, is one small jewel of the whole treasure that Bucky truly is. Sam feels his chest blossom with a multitude of feelings, mostly ones that end with him hiding a smile as his stomach pleasantly erupts with butterflies.

"I- what?"

Bucky laughs lightly, a breathless noise as he shrinks into himself with a proud but shy smile, how he can still manage to be both at the same time is a mystery to Sam.

"I may not be a professional chef, but I still wanna ask-"

"Yes." Sam agrees, cutting him off. Bucky shakes his head, putting a hand on his chest as he leans forward.

"I wanna ask if you'll go on a picnic date with me? For dinner?"

Sam's head is spun in a joyous way, his heart thumping in excitement against his bones, a grin widening across is face as he wraps a hand around Bucky's wrist, a gentle hold, as his other rests on Bucky's thigh.

Sam kisses Bucky, of course.

"Let me get some bug spray," Sam says, watching a shimmer of pride flash in Bucky's eyes, something that's mixed in with happiness and desire-

And a hungry stomach as their packing up, Sam glancing over at Bucky who just shrugs the grumble of it away as something for the future to deal with.

Finally, it seems Bucky knows a place that Sam doesn't, when they finally get there.

There are hills beyond hills ahead of them, a dark blue pond decorated with cattails and all the other natural sort that sits a couple feet ahead of them. The sky stretches wide, an infinite thing that looks so vast and beautiful, very dark but yet, blues and purples find their way to wiggle in and create a nice view. They're positioned under a weeping tree that makes romance movies look not so far fetched (in this specific category).

Sam's knees are bent to his side, leaning on his hands an twirling a loose thread of the picnic blanket underneath them. The sky if full with dull little specks of light, stars to distant with a few share of planets. He admires the way it all looks, the summer night granting them to forget any worries about it being to cold.

"This is really nice," He blurts out, a confession of the heart, his eyes finding Bucky in his line of sight. He's unwrapping the food, the thrumming of base and drums playing from the phone muffled underneath his thrown jacket. He pauses though, glancing up at Sam with a calmness that sends itself out in waves, washing over Sam until he matches him, sighing as he picks at random blades of grass. "Thanks."

Bucky hums, the still air of the night crisp until he cuts through it with a hand sneaking around Sam, pulling him closer. "No worries."

Then he gestures in front of them, down at their food. "Hopefully it doesn't taste terrible, huh?"

Sam looks down and marvels at the choices, from pinwheels to chicken wings to the good ol classic picnic sandwich. "Dude, do not even stress about that." He shakes his head, glancing over at Bucky who's already watching him, expectant for a taste test reaction. Sam presses his lips into Bucky's first, kissing him slowly.

Bucky is in his element here, clearly, as the way his hands reposition Sam constitutes as this full and smooth movement, one that makes his stomach flip, Sam's hands pushing and pulling at Bucky until the two tumble backwards, Bucky on his back. Sam gazes down at him, in love with the sight, and his eyes try to take in every existing detail of it all, from the very pink color spreading across Bucky's face to the sprawl of his hair, blue eyes examining Sam's face as Bucky breathes in.

"You're a very distracting person," Bucky blurts, a spray of weathered roughness in his voice that has Sam's head and heart reeling. It takes a bit of will-power to remember they both have yet to eat dinner, and that he can't start kissing Bucky senseless just yet.

He sits back, Bucky following him quickly, and Sam shoves the container towards him. "Eat up and I'll let you continue you with that," He offers and Bucky shrugs, an easy thing to accomplish considering he was hungry anyways.

Sam and Bucky take a bit of the pinwheels at the same time, and Sam watches as Bucky's shoulders sag a little bit, satisfaction of his demanding appetite finally starting to be met. He can't help but chuckle at how quickly he finishes it, placing his hands between his legs with a low sound.

"It's good," Sam clarifies after he realizes Bucky is waiting for his opinion in order to take any more food. "You did good, Buck."

Bucky beams, pleasantly accepting Sam's praise and indulging in the chicken wings he made.

All the food does look good, honestly, Sam thinks, and his heart is swelling up when he thinks about how Bucky has in fact been spending more time in the kitchen, muttering things to himself and such- and to think, Bucky has been wringing out that elbow grease just to fix up this?

Sam is still forever swooning, bless his soul, he may never recover from the gift that Bucky is.

Minutes later, they've really dug into the picnic food and Bucky is soon laying his head on Sam's lap, squinting up at him as he holds his phone to the side, his flashlight on, brightening the area where Sam has his eyes set, hands twisting around as he fixes up an oval shape made from leaves and twigs.

"What're you making?" Bucky asks curiously, lifting his head for a moment to peer over Sam's thigh, Sam's leg slightly hitched up so he can put his feet flat against the ground for stability.

"Crowns, I guess. Unless you wanna call it a headband." Sam snorts, sneaking a glance down at Bucky to see the way his face wrinkles up with a smile before he tilts his head as best as he can in his position.

"You want bugs in your hair?"

Sam shrugs. "You won't get any in your hair, mkay?"

Bucky hums, his hand drooping, wrist growing tired. So Sam lets his phone slip from Bucky's hand to his own, setting it down on the blanket so the light isn't shining in their eyes but still providing Sam with a working station of sorts.

"That's a relief," Bucky says and whether it's about the bugs, his hand, or both, Sam nods in return.

Then he's made two crowns, all finished in their leafy green and pale twig glory, all bendy and awkward on the head but they work. Sam can't stop giggling like a dummy at how it sits lopsided on Bucky who placed it on haphazardly when Sam jokingly lied about flicking an ant off of his.

The night feels endless and Sam finds that a good thing, a floating feeling of bliss hovering around the blanket as Sam tugs Bucky in close for a photo, the flash nearly blinding them but it's more than alright as Sam looks back at it while Bucky relishes in the shrinked distance between them, his arms tangling around Sam with shut eyes.

Sam favorites the photo before he's sent toppling over with Bucky once more, a shriek of laughter spilling out of his lips before it's swallowed when Bucky kisses him, drinking in the giddy sensation and leaving Sam's lungs chasing out for oxygen.

To think he was worried about finding the perfect first date idea, all the meanwhile, here it was, waiting with Bucky's charming smile.

When they get home, energy stretched out and drunk on life, Sam teases the idea of printing the photo of them and their dumb leaf crowns on the empty wall as a start to fill up the space. Bucky calls it corny, of course, falling into bed next to Sam.

But like many things Bucky calls corny, it means he probably likes the idea as well.

It might just be the perfect thing.

[mochie85]

Hey fellow friends💖 I’m on a mission to provide some distraction for anyone who needs it so…

Loki asks you out for dinner - what are you wearing?

A special - what if it’s Bucky ?

I'm going to answer this the only way I know how...through a mood board. (I know, sorry I'm extra)

Loki would take me on a romantic museum date and then a private dinner overlooking the city...

Bucky would stay at home and cook dinner for me while we watch a movie and he massages my feet...

This was a great distraction, my love. Thank you 🥰🥰🥰

@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writess @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias @lokixryss @athalialaufeyson @thedistractedagglomeration @theotherspiderlady @cheekyscamp

[itiswormtimebaby]

Listening to Bucky Barnes audio porn like it’s a podcast >

[braveclementine]

Chapter 9

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

I came to a stop, sitting down on the front porch step in front of my Professor's house, quickly switching out my tennis shoes for my high heels, which I pulled from my bag. I also quickly applied non-aluminum deodorant, placing a very thin sweater over my blouse. 

I had walked to my Professors house, figuring it wasn't a safe idea to take an Uber since I had no means of protection. I checked my watch to see that I was twenty minutes late. 

I quickly knocked on the door and after a few seconds, it was opened. 

"Miss Silvertongue, I was worried." Professor Rogers said as he opened the door up and I quickly stepped inside. 

"I'm sorry Professor, I miscalculated how long it would take for me to get here." I said apologetically. "I'll leave much earlier next week." 

He paused for a moment, giving me a curious look. "How did you get here?" 

I flushed, "I walked, Professor." 

"You walked?" He repeated in surprise. Professor Barnes was just coming down the stairs, clearly only having just woken up, long hair tousled and completely shirtless. 

"Yes sir." I replied a little meeker. 

"Why?" 

"I didn't have protection, sir. So I didn't take an Uber." I explained, feeling very rational. 

"Well, that is completely unacceptable. I'll pick you up from now on so you don't have to walk." Professor Rogers said, turning and walking again. 

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked in shock, hurrying to catch up with him as he was already half-way up the stairs. "Really, Professor, that's completely unnecessary." 

"Miss Silvertongue." Professor Rogers said sternly as we entered his office, turning to me for a second. I stopped so short that my back slammed into the closed door, leaving me effectively caged in between the wood and the man. "I refuse to let you walk, when it would be so much easier to simply pick you up. I expect no refusals, understood?" 

"Yes sir." I murmured. 

"Good girl." He said, turning away so that I didn't have to hide my face as butterflies erupted in my stomach. He moved behind his desk and smiled gently at me, "I've already prepared the binders for you." 

"Of course." I breathed out, hurrying up the stairs, closing the door behind me. I closed my eyes, sliding down against the door, trying to get a breather. "Fuck me." I mumbled, before getting up and moving back to my desk. 

I worked hard, but kept an eye on the clock this time, working only till my allotted time. If Professor Rogers was going to start driving me to and from 'work', then I needed to make sure I was only working from eight to eleven. 

Once the clock hit eleven, I marked where I had left off with a purple binder clip, proud of myself that I had gotten five out of six binders completely finished. 

I headed back down the stairs, finding that Professor Rogers was no longer in his study. Exiting the second floor and heading down the set of stairs to the living room, I could smell something delicious cooking and my stomach growled. 

I followed my nose figuring I'd find Professor Rogers in the kitchen, instead finding both of them lip locked over the stove. My mouth dropped, watching the two men kiss each other slowly, sensually. Professor Barnes' tongue dipping into Professor Rogers. Their hands tight on each others' bodies. Immediately, I felt myself growing aroused and I backed up slowly. 

Once I felt cooler, I approached the kitchen again, making my footsteps louder and paused in the room again. This time, they pulled apart, looking over at me. 

"Don't burn the house down." Was all I said, my voice sounding amused. 

Professor Rogers chuckled, pushing Professor Barnes out of the way, going and flipping whatever was in the pan. 

"You hungry Elizabeth?" Professor Barnes asked, going over to the fridge. 

"Oh." I said in surprise. "Um-" 

"Everything's organic and non-gmo." He smirked at me as he brought out a rather large fruit dish, placing it on the table. "It's all from Stark farms." 

Stark farms did have the healthiest food on the planet. Non-gmo, the livestock received no hormones or medications that could alter the meat or other livestock products. And everything was grown without pesticides. Plus, it was at a reasonable price that the normal American could afford. The only problem was, they only were usually sold at specialty stores. We had easy access to it at home because Jungle Jims was near my house and they were the biggest specialty store in Ohio. 

"There's a specialty store around here?" I asked in interest, making a note to let Clementine know. 

"No, in Itacha. It's about a four hour drive." Professor Rogers said, flipping whatever he was cooking onto a large plate. They looked like grilled cheese sandwiches, which were suddenly stacked higher than I thought they should. I raised an eyebrow. 

"That's a lot of food." 

"We eat a lot." Professor Barnes explained, popping a grape into his mouth, pushing the tray towards me. "Besides, I can hear your stomach growling." 

I giggled, sitting down at the island counter, taking one of the grapes and popping it into my mouth too. "Well, thank you then." 

Besides the grilled cheese sandwiches and fruit, there was also a tray of crackers, two different types of cheese, and pepperoni and salami slices. Like a Christmas or New Years' tray. 

"Am I interrupting some sort of anniversary I don't know about?" I asked nervously, looking at the tray. 

Professor Barnes laughed. "No. Punk just really likes these trays." 

"So do you." Professor Rogers grumbled, gently putting a glass plate down in front of me. "We're going to move out to the other room to eat, if you want to join us. Help yourself to whatever you want." 

"Thank you Professor." I said, watching the two of them stack food up on their plates and then head out of the kitchen. 

Now that I was alone, I took a moment to appreciate the kitchen. Now that I was looking at it, I realized it was a retro kitchen and was surprised I hadn't noticed immediately. The cabinets were a pastel green, which matched perfectly with the red appliances and white counters. The floor was also tile, white with navy blue dots. 

"Oh wow." I mumbled, looking over my shoulder. The retro style kitchen definitely clashed with the way the opening room looked more like the seventies.

I looked at the grilled cheese sandwiches and realized that not only had they been cut into triangles, but the crust was gone. I was immediately sold, putting three of the sandwiches on my plate. I also put a large amount of pepperoni, cheese, crackers, salami, grapes, and strawberries on my plate and there was still half leftover. 

I carried my plate and cup of milk out to find them. 

"Oh, punk, just so you know, I think she likes me better." Professor Barnes was saying, sounding very smug. "She called me Bucky a few days ago." 

"Is that so?" Professor Rogers chuckled. 

I smirked, shaking my head, and walked into the room. "Hey Steve. Professor Barnes." 

Professor Rogers burst out laughing as Professor Barnes pouted. "You were saying jerk." 

They had set TV trays up and I sat down between the two of them since that was where the empty tray was. A small part in the back of my head was wondering why I was so comfortable with this, with them. I had never had a teacher before that I would ever have thought doing this with. 

I just. . . felt safe with them. Relaxed. Like they could take all of my problems away. 

Strange that I felt that way, considering I barely knew anything about them. But I had always been able to have a feeling about people and be right about them. At least, I hadn't been wrong yet. 

I blinked as I heard familiar music start to play and saw that they had turned on Jurassic Park. "Bucky!" I squealed, excited. "What-" 

"Hush you." Bucky teased, poking my nose. "I want to hear this fantastic movie." 

I smirked, digging into the food. I was positively vibrating with enjoyment, watching as the scenes unfolded before me. Once I was done, I put my plate up on the table, noticing that the boys had gone out for seconds, but I was stuffed. 

Out of habit, I started to get very comfortable during the movie, and eventually wound up with my head resting against Bucky's shoulder without evening noticing it. I completely forgot that I was with two Professors in their house, feeling like I was with best friends instead. 

Every time the Jurassic park music came around, I let out a giggle. I was just a total fangirl and it was probably best they had put this one because if it had been Harry Potter or Vampire Diaries, I wouldn't have been able to contain myself. 

As the movie came to a close, I realized that we had all gotten super comfortable. My head was resting on Bucky's shoulder and his arm was around my shoulder. My feet were tucked up under Steve's leg, my feet keeping warm although I couldn't actually remember taking my shoes off. His hand rested on my calf, mindlessly stroking a single finger, almost in a circling motion though not quite. I wondered how I didn't feel it before. 

"That was pretty good." Bucky finally said, though he made no effort to move. Steve on the other hand slowly stood up, picking up all three plates and moved back to the kitchen with them. I closed my eyes for a second, wanting to preserve this memory, though I knew it would never really be the same. 

Then I slowly stood up, stretching. "Thank you for letting me stay for the movie." 

"Anytime." Bucky said, getting up as well. He smirked at me and Steve came back into the room. 

"Ready to go?" 

"Yes." I said with a smile. "Thank you Pro- er- Steve." 

"See you later." Bucky said, lifting his hand and then took the stairs two at a time. 

"Bye!"

"C'mon." Steve said and we headed out of the house. He helped me into the fancy car, just as Bucky had my first time he drove me home. 

"Oh, I meant to ask, is each room of your house designed after a time period? Because the kitchen is an adorable 40s, but the living room doesn't match at all." 

Steve rolled his eyes. "Stark helped us with the house. Buck and I wanted the house to be a complete 40s remodel. But he added his own flair naturally so it's half 40s half 70s/80s cause he very much liked that decade." 

"What do you like about the 40s?" I asked. 

"The simplicity." Steve said. 

"Makes sense." I said. "I love the kitchen. It's so vintage, but it's also authentic and it's beautiful." 

Steve smiled. 

"Oh!" I said as he was nearing the campus. How had a twenty-five minute drive felt like only five minutes? "Do you mind dropping me near the English building. I'm supposed to meet Professor Wilson in a few hours." 

"Oh?" Steve sounded surprised. 

"Yeah." I sighed. "I'm not sure for what, but he said it would help me. I'm thinking it's probably some therapy thing but. . . well maybe I should try it." 

"I'm glad you're opening yourself up to it." Steve murmured softly. "If that is what Sams' up to in the first place. Maybe he's just going to try and steal you from me to do his grading." 

I giggled at that. "Well, as long as he pays me decently I'll gladly take on more work." 

"That reminds me." Steve said as he pulled into the parking lot, pulling out his wallet. "Here's your payment." 

"Thank you Professor." I said softly, carefully putting the money in my bag. "Thank you for the ride." 

"Of course." He hesitated and then said "Really, if you need anything, just call, okay?" 

"Sure." I replied, smiling, climbing out of the beautiful car. Maybe I'd learn more about this car, I could see why guys were into this sort of thing. I closed the door behind me, deciding to listen to music as I headed into the building. I smirked to myself as I put on a Jurassic park playlist, the Jurassic Park theme song coming on first. 

I found the small study room in the English department and saw that there were very few students in the room. Only three or four others, so there was plenty of places to sit. 

I made my way into a corner, curling up on an armchair and put my laptop up on the movable desk. Immediately, someone sat down in front of me and I jolted a little, surprised. 

"Hey." It was the guy from the dorm and I could feel some sort of pit in my stomach. I really didn't like the vibes this person was giving off. 

"Hey." I murmured, pulling an earbud out so I didn't come across as rude. "You here to study too?" I wanted to convey that I was attempting to study. 

"Not really. I just saw you coming in here and wanted to say hi." 

"A bit creepy." I commented offhandedly, a small smile dancing on my lips. 

He chuckled. "My apologies. I was just hoping to make some friends and you seem like you'd be a pretty good friend. I don't mean to come across as creepy." 

'Yes you do bud.' I thought. 

He pointed to my phone, "Can we exchange phone numbers now?" 

'NO!' 

"Yeah, sure." I said, letting him type his phone number into my phone. It was actually probably a good thing, now that I thought about it, because it meant I would have his name and number to give to Buck- Professor Barnes. 

John Garrett. That was his name, I saw, as I took my phone back, seeing that he'd already texted himself. 

"Do you study here often?" 

"Yeah." I lied, knowing that my study spot was really the library. I would never be studying here again. 

Suddenly we were interrupted by a young woman who looked like she might be mixed, standing in front of me. "Are you Elizabeth Silvertongue?" 

"Um, yes." I said nervously, wondering who she was and what she wanted. 

She looked over at John. "Scram kid." 

John looked very taken aback, looking over at me and I just shrugged. He slowly got up and moved away, though still staying in the room. 

"You looked uncomfortable." The girl said nonchalantly, sitting down in John's abandoned seat. 

"Oh-" 

"Helen Thrace." She said, holding her hand out. I shook it. "Anyways, really, I just wanted to say thank you for what you did a few weeks ago, protecting the class. My best friend Ivy was in that class and I just want you to know that I'm grateful she's still alive." 

I could feel myself blushing and also felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. 

"Yeah um, no problem. You're welcome." I said hesitantly. 

"Look, we got a group of us." She said, plucking my phone out of my hand, leaving me even more startled than before. "You're welcome to join us anytime." She handed the phone back and I saw that I had been added to some sort of group chat, already with the nickname: Brave. 

"Thanks." I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." 

She winked and then got up, leaving. 

I decided to pack it up and leave since John was still hanging around. I managed to get away with just a quick wave to him, before darting down a hallway and then slipping into the womans' room. 

Although I wasn't quite sure it would stop him. Nothing being girls' only had stopped him before. 

I pulled my phone out and texted Steve before I knew what I was doing. 

:Tell Bucky his name is 'John Garrett.' If he's confused, you can tell him he's the one that I said was 'the third'.

Then I slipped my phone back into my pocket, and waited till it was time to meet with Professor Wilson. 

: ̗̀➛

Steve heard his phone ping a text as he stepped in the bedroom. Bucky was already lounging on the bed, waiting for him. They'd have loved to have their new doll between the two of them, but they were promising each other to take it slow with her. 

"Hey." Bucky said, looking up as he heard him enter. Steve pulled the phone out of his pocket and his brow furrowed as he read the text message. Normally, he would've been ecstatic to receive a message from Elizabeth, but the contents of the message worried him. 

"John Garrett." Steve said aloud and looked up at Bucky. "Elizabeth said that you and her were talking about 'the third'?" 

Bucky frowned for a second and then nodded, "Yeah, a few days ago after Psychology she said there's been a boy in the dorm building she's staying in. Except our dorms are-" 

"Gender split so he shouldn't be in there since he's not a female." Steve finished with a mumble. "Anything else?" 

"Just that she had bad vibes coming from him and that he keeps pursuing her to be friends." Bucky said, his voice turning dark at the end. "Why?" 

"His name is John Garrett." Steve said, watching Bucky's eyes flash with recognition. "John Garrett the third." 

"So the bastard has a grandson." Bucky snarled, getting up off the bed. 

"Buck, why do you think he's so interested in Elizabeth?" Steve asked suddenly. "If she's right and he's trying to pursue her." 

"You have seen her right?" Bucky asked. "She's drop dead gorgeous Steve. And fucking innocent like nobodies business. You have seen the way others look at her, right?" 

"You don't think she has bad connections though, right?" Steve continued, not wanting anyone to put Bucky in danger again. "That she's secretly HYDRA or something?" 

"No way." Bucky said. "I had Nat search her. She's clean." 

"What about her friend? Clementine?" Steve asked after a moment. "Maybe they've gotten them switched around, they look awfully alike." 

"Mostly clean." Bucky shrugged. "Had a police report filed against her brother but her brother looks clean. Perfect records, scores, top athlete, Stanford acceptee." 

"I'll head over to the dorm and take a look around. Maybe he's staying with a girlfriend." Steve said. 

"I'll come with you, I want to know why the grandson of a HYDRA agent is here." Bucky huffed. 

"Because they don't know any of us are Avengers." Steve sighed, thinking of how everyone had lost their memories of who the Avengers were after the blip. 

"Are we going to tell her?" Bucky asked suddenly. 

"Eventually." Steve nodded. "But not until-" 

"Yeah." Buck nodded. "Okay." 

"C'mon." Steve said, clapping Bucky on the shoulder, "Let's go." 

[sambambucky]

Sam def rips down the decorations 😂

I desperately want to take this as a prompt, but I'm not gonna!

Sam is definitely the one that put them up, too, isn't he? Bucky likes that he decorates with the seasons, but he can't ever get his shit together in time to do anything like that, so he just helps and encourages the best he can.

[aquaticmercy]

Almost Kisses

Summary : Bucky's kisses have become a daily part of your life together, but it wasn’t always that way.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : very slight mention of food and mild cursing

Requested by : @buckys-wintersoldier

Word count : 1.8k

Note : This one was very fun! I was listening to Work Song By Hozier while writing this, so it's safe to say the song served as a bit of inspiration, too. I did say it would be >1k word blurb but I have once again got over the limit.

Requests are open!

Kissing you had become second nature to Bucky. Every morning when he woke up, every night before bed. It was part of his routine, it felt as natural as breathing. He kissed you when he passed you in the kitchen, when you laughed at something ridiculous, when you weren’t paying attention. He kissed you just because he could.

It was hard for him to remember a time before that, but once, kissing you had seemed impossible.

The first time the thought even crossed his mind, you were standing outside his apartment door, trying to get his attention. Sam had called you, worried about him after days of radio silence, days of ignoring texts and phone calls from both him and his therapist. 

Sam could get through to Bucky on most days, but on the really hard ones, when the weight of his past pulled him under the covers and refused to let him go, there was only one person who could reach him. You. 

Somehow, Bucky had imprinted on you in a way he never had with anyone else. Sam wasn’t stupid— he knew that Bucky was down hard for you. Hell, everyone who ever saw the two of you interact knew that Bucky was in love with you. Everyone except you.

Because love had to keep you blind like that, at least for a while.

"Bucky?" Your voice was soft that day, muffled by the door separating you from him. You knocked again, gentler this time. "I brought you pizza. Just cheese, no toppings—your favorite." You paused, like you were waiting for signs of life, anything, but the silence was deafening. You lowered your voice, a whisper now. "I cut off the burnt bits, the way you like it."

The door creaked open, just a sliver of light pouring in from the apartment. Bucky's figure stood in the shadow, his frame filling the doorway, but his voice was small and frail. "Extra cheese?"

"Of course, Buck." Your lips curved up knowing you’ve essentially made it in. You slipped inside the moment he stepped back. 

That night, you didn’t leave his side. You pulled him out of the dark waters he had drowned himself in. He told you about his nightmares, the memories that wouldn’t let him breathe. You listened, laughed when he cracked the odd dark joke, and cried while exchanging stories. Minutes blurred into hours, and eventually, you fell asleep beside him on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder. 

That was the night he realized what you did to him. You didn’t just pull him out of his pit of despair— you made him feel alive. Electric.

The next morning, you took a shower, borrowing one of his shirts since yours were dirty. Seeing you in his oversized clothes twisted something inside him, drove him insane with wild thoughts— he almost said something, but bit his tongue to stop the flow of words that would have been unstoppable. When you hugged him goodbye, he held on just a second too long, his arms tightened around you, hesitating to let go and wishing he could stay in the safety of your embrace forever. And for just a heartbeat, he stared at your lips. He almost gave in, almost kissed you right then and there, but he shoved the thought away at the last second. Why would you ever want to kiss someone like him?

The second time he almost kissed you was at the ice rink in Central Park. It was the holiday season, and this year Bucky realised that he didn’t need to spend it alone anymore. He invited you out, convincing himself it wasn’t a date— just two friends hanging out, doing friend things.  

You were hesitant, admitting you couldn’t skate and that the ice never seemed to agree with you, but he insisted.

"You can hold onto me," he teased, though he left out  telling you how much he wanted you to. Just to feel you close. Just for you to embrace him again.

"Buck!" you squealed when he picked up speed, your hands clutching his jacket tight around your fist in a death grip. "You’re going way too fast!"

He laughed, slowing to a stop in the middle of the rink. The moonlight between trees shrouded the two of you. You stumbled into his chest, your fingers curling into his coat. For a second, you didn’t move. You stayed there, taking in his scent. "What would I do without you?" you murmured into his chest, voice barely above a whisper.

In that moment, he realised that you weren’t just his friend out of pity— You made him feel wanted. Needed.

His hands found your cheeks, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. He could almost taste how your lips would feel— soft, warm, perfect. His breath hitched, his body taking control. But then, just as quickly, he put his logical mind back in the pilot seat. He pulled away. Why would you want to kiss someone who’d been broken as many times as him?

The third time he thought about kissing you, he could’ve sworn you wanted it, too. You were on one of your usual runs and morning coffee— your ritual together. It happened once or twice a week when he wasn’t whisked away to some strange land for a mission. 

Bucky always slowed his pace to match yours. He didn’t mind since he could spend those extra moments near you. 

After the runs, you’d get coffee together. He talked about everything—his life in the 40s, his family, Steve, his friends from school. 

You gave him pieces of his humanity back with every conversation. With you, he felt more than a soldier— you made him feel more organic. Human.

He felt that, for once, he was more interesting than the winter soldier.

He then talked about wanting a small pet, maybe a dog, or a white cat. 

"What, am I not companion enough?" you had teased.

His ears burned, and the super soldier found himself stammering. "That’s not what I meant."

You laughed as you brushed coffee foam off his facial hair. The briefest touch and his heart started racing out of control.

He could've sworn you leaned in just slightly, almost instinctively. He wanted to kiss you. He needed to. But again, he pushed it down, convincing himself that the two of you were just friends. 

The day after, he found himself lying on the couch, thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t stop thinking about you— your lips, your laugh, your touch. He didn’t know what to make of it. The feelings ate away at his sanity, and they wouldn’t go away. For the first time, he asked himself the question he was too afraid to ask: was this how it felt to be truly, deeply, and desperately in love?

Then came the knock.

He opened the door, and there you were, looking as tired as he felt. Your hair was a mess, your clothes crumpled, and you looked like you haven’t slept since he saw you yesterday, but you were still so goddamn beautiful. You had this infectious wild energy, like you were on the edge of discovering the secret to world peace.

"I’ve been thinking all night," you said, stepping inside the gap he had open. That was how welcome you felt in his space, how comfortable he was with you. "If I’m wrong, this is going to be so embarrassing, but— three times. You almost kissed me three times."

Bucky blinked, caught off-guard.

"That night with the pizza, when I said goodbye," you continued, pacing around the room in deep thought. "The ice rink. And yesterday at the coffee shop." You held up three fingers at his face, your hands trembling slightly. "Three times is too much to be a coincidence. Three times is too much to just accidentally lean in. Please, tell me you’ve thought about it. Tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me because—" You stopped, looking into his beautiful eyes. "Because I’ve thought about it too."

Your voice was shaky. Bucky had never seen you so vulnerable, so uncertain. So hopeful.

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered, your voice now barely a whisper. But before you could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between you. He grabbed you by the waist and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate rush. All the hesitations melted away from the tension in his muscles, and it was better than he’d imagined a thousand times. He didn’t know how it was possible, but you tasted even sweeter than he had dreamed. His hands tangled in your hair as you stood on tiptoes, clutching him as if he might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you whispered in disbelief, "So I was right."

Bucky smiled, finger running along your skin, in a sensory attempt to remind him the was all real and not just one of his fantasies. "Only took you half a year to notice."

You laughed softly, melting into his touch. "I could say the same for you."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. "Shush," he whispered between kisses. He was addicted now. He needed his fix. He needed your touch, your warmth, your lips on his. Again, and again, and again.

And that was more than a year ago. Now, Bucky still couldn’t stop kissing you. If anything, it had only gotten worse, not that you were complaining.

He kissed you every chance he got. When you rolled over in bed, still half asleep, he kissed your forehead. When you stretched in the kitchen, reaching for a mug for your afternoon tea, he kissed the back of your neck. When you came home late from work, tired but smiling, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you breathless, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Buck," you laughed, stopping his train of thought, playfully trying to squirm away as he pulled you onto his lap. "We’re supposed to be watching a movie."

His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear. "But I’d rather kiss you."

You were powerless against him, as you always are. Laughing softly, you said, "You know, you kiss me every day. Aren’t you tired of me yet?"

He pulled back just enough to look at you, reminding himself of how lucky he was that he had you here. That if it wasn’t for you storming into his apartment in a frenzy with a theory, you wouldn’t be here in his arms. "Never." His voice was so soft, making your breath hitch.

You were about to say something smart, but Bucky stopped you with another kiss, his lips gentle and loving, yet there was such a fiery passion beneath. You curled into him, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, the movie long forgotten.

He stared at you, thumb brushing the side of your face, as if memorizing every detail. "I’m never gonna stop kissing you," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry from the taste of you. "I don’t think I could, even if I tried."

And you believed him.

-end

[simplyholl]

Filthy

Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.

See my Masterlist Here

"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.

You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.

That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.

You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.

Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.

The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.

One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.

He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.

You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."

Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"

Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.

You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.

"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.

Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.

He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.

He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.

You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.

"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.

"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.

His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.

His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.

You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.

He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.

He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.

He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.

His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.

His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.

His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.

He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.

He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.

His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.

You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.

You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.

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[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet

Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)

Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.

A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2

Three Years Ago

"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”

He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”

The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”

You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”

He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.

“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

× × × × 

Present

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.

It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.

“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”

You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”

You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking. 

“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”

Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”

You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”

“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”

Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”

You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.

“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”

You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”

“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”

His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”

“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”

Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”

You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.

You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.

“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music. 

“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.

Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”

Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.

× × × ×

A few months later.

The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.

Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.

“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”

Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”

The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.

“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.

The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky. 

When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”

“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”

His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”

You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.

When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”

Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”

“I think so too,” you murmured back.

The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”

“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”

A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”

You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”

His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs. 

Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss. 

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”

Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”

You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”

And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.

× × × ×

1.5 years later

You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.

How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?

Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.

“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”

“Supposed to what?”

You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.

His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”

He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.

Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”

You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.

“Wait… is that a—?”

“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.

Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”

You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”

“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.

Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”

“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”

“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”

He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”

“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”

Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”

Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”

“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”

You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”

The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”

“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”

With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.

Positive.

Positive.

Positive.

Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.

“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.

He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”

You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”

“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”

“Bucky—”

“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.

“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.

“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.

You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”

He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.

“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”

After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”

“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”

Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.

“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”

“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”

He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”

“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”

Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”

“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”

“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”

“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”

“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.

And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.

× × × ×

First Trimester.

The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.

He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”

Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”

Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”

“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”

The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.

“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”

“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”

Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”

“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”

Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”

You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”

“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”

Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”

“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”

Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”

A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.

“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”

“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.

Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”

You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”

“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”

“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”

And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.

“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.

“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”

You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.

“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”

You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”

Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”

“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”

Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”

You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.

“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”

You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”

“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”

You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.

“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”

His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”

The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”

“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”

“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.

“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”

“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”

With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”

You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.

Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.

You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.

“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”

“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.

“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”

“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.

As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.

Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.

× × × ×

Third Trimester

Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.

It began with the shoelaces.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.

“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.

“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.

“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”

“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”

You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”

He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.

Then there was the laundry basket incident.

It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.

“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.

“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”

“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”

Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”

“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”

You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.

It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.

One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”

“Bucky—”

“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.

With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”

“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.

It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.

The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.

“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.

“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.

You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”

“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”

“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”

“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”

Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”

By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.

“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”

“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.

You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

× × × ×

“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”

“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.

“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”

Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression. 

“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”

“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.

Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.

Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”

“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”

“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.

He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.

“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.

“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”

“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”

You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.

But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.

“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”

Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”

“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”

Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”

You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.

“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.

“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”

Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.

“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”

You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”

“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”

He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.

“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”

“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.

He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”

“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”

He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”

A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.

“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”

You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”

With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.

Even if he does go overboard sometimes.

[navybrat817]

Date Night!!! ❤️

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Crf1z9iMyZF/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Nonnie, I have to ask. Was it Stud and Smartie who bought the Crocs for Soot and Alpine? 😂❤️ Movie nights are the best and the cats have to get just as many cuddles in as Bucky and his girl. 🥰

Love and thanks! ❤️

[buckyalpine]

18+ AF Minors dni. Just a lil smutty thought with a scene I imagined. Bucky finds out Tony updated the security system for the compound and upgraded all the cameras to HD quality.

"So what you're saying is that footage would've recorded everything in the kitchen from morning to evening and the middle of the night...everything?" Bucky shuffled by Tony's desk after everyone had left the briefing about the latest Stark tech. Everyone's phones w

"Yes grandpa, that's how a security system works" Tony snorted while Bucky hummed, his mind still wandering.

"Yeah but....everything..in full detail? Including sound?"

"Yes, why, what are you doing in the kitchen" He cocked his head in confusion while the super soldier gave him a blank stare, only blinking twice in response, his cheeks growing redder with each passing second.

"Oh"

"OH"

Bucky scrambled out of the room, leaving behind a cackling Tony, his fingers desperately tapping his phone to unlock and check the security archives. He locked himself in his room, his stomach already churning when he saw the date of the video still very much accessible, dragging his finger to find the exact time-

"FUCK Sergeant!!" Bucky nearly flung the phone, quickly lowering the volume of the video, your loud, slutty moans and fucked out face clear as day. "P-please Sergeant, harder!"

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

What had started off as wholesome date night had turned into something else by the time Bucky had you alone in the compound. He'd struggled to keep his hand to himself all night with the dress you were wearing and it didn't help that the waiter at dinner shamelessly flirted with you the entire time. You didn't entertain it but it didn't stop the former assassin from growing jealous, itching to remind you who you belonged to by the end of the night.

You'd gone by the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the sight of you leaning over the counter to fill your cup was enough to break Bucky's resolve. His bedroom could wait.

"Princess" Bucky swallowed thickly hearing his voice dripping with possessiveness, watching himself cage you against the counter, purring in your ear. He could see you shiver as his lips trail up the column of your neck, preening as he licked your skin, pressing his achingly hard erection against your ass.

"B-Bucky" You whimpered, squeaking at the spank he gave you, clicking his tongue.

"Try again, baby"

"Sergeant Barnes" Your voice melted into a moan as he hummed, taking his time slipping your dress up over your hips to give himself a perfect view of your lacy covered cunt.

Bucky fully intended on deleting the video. He was going to highlight the section and get rid of it for good. He desperately tried to ignore the way his cock stirred the longer he watched, unable to tear his eyes off the way you were bent over the kitchen counter like such a good girl, waiting for him to do something.

"That's right. Your Sergeant" The clink of his belt hitting the floor made you whine. He wasn't interested in prepping you, no foreplay, this was pure possessiveness, every vein in his body itching to own you. "You're a little slut for your Sergeant, aren't you princess?"

"M'your slut" you nodded, gasping at the tear of your panties, the lacy material tossed to the side.

"Let me show I fuck my slut" Bucky didn't give you a second to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace, your hips bumping against the marble countertop.

"S-SERGEANT BAR-NES!-" Bucky slapped his hand over your mouth, your broken screams muffled against his palm.

"Take it" He growled, his other hand pressing against your shoulder blades, purely using you for his pleasure, "You love how your Sergeant fucks you, my perfect little slut, mine"

"Fuck Sergeant!!" You wailed while Bucky snaked his hand to circle your clit, his cock starting to leak at the way you tightened around him. You'd never looked prettier. Your makeup was ruined. Sweat covered your body. Your eyes rolled back. Bucky replayed that part of the video over and over again, finally giving into his heavy cock begging for attention. He gave himself a squeeze hoping it would calm him down but before he knew it, he'd pulled it out and started to tug, precum glistening at the head.

"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"

"Pleasepleaseplease-fill-me" you slurred, unable to form sentences while Bucky's grunts grw louder, his pace faltering.

"Gonna fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel me in your pussy for days princess" Bucky fucked you like an animal, eyes feral as he kept you caged under him, his heavy balls and hard cock ready to blow, "We'll go back to that restaurant. Have that same waiter try and talk to you while I drip out between your legs. Won't even let you wear panties baby, want you to make a mess on their chair, let them see where I marked you, fuck m'cumming!!"

Bucky tightly held the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watched himself pump you full, hips stuttering. He couldn't cum yet. Not when he knew what was coming up next. He watched himself pull out of you, cooing at your soft little whimper before decidedly acting like a deranged feral fuck again.

"Shhh, let your Sergeant clean you up again" He smirked, picking you up with 0 effort and setting you down on the counter, spreading your legs apart so he could lick up every bit of cum that dripped out of you, the most salacious sounds filling the room. He greedily lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning at the tasted of his spend mixed with yours, loving that no other man would get to taste something so good. No other man would get to watch their cum drip out of you after filling you past the brim. No other man would get to have you at your most sensitive, cleaning every bit of their cum off you with their face buried between their legs-

"F-fuck" Bucky whimpered, quickly biting his lip to shut himself up but it was no use. His chest heaved, breathy moans growing louder as he jerked himself faster. "Yes, yeah, shit-" Bucky was nearly whining at this point, his hand working at his sensitive cockhead, giving himself quick, hard strokes, "OH FUCKK" Thick ropes of cum spilled from his cock, a steady stream making a mess all over his sheets as he continued to touch himself, rewinding the video to the beginning. His hard cock wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

Maybe he wouldn't delete the video just yet.

Later in the groupchat:

Tony: Everyone, please don't check the kitchen footage from two days ago at exactly 1:04 to 1:38

Sam: Why would I check that in the first place

Nat: Wasn't planning on it

Steve: I don't know how to access the footage.

Tony: Trust me. None of you should check that exact time stamp.

Tony: 🙂

*a few minutes later after everyone obviously checked the footage*

Nat: Holy shit.

Sam: BARNES YOU DIRTY DOG

Nat: That's hot

Steve: Tony, I still can't access the footage.

Sam: YALL ARE NASTY

Steve: Who is nasty?

Sam: I love it though

Y/n: 😏He's the best sergeant

Sam: HAHAHA

Nat: You guys are so cute 🥺️🥺️

Bucky: I hate you all

Sam: What you gonna do about it Sergeant

-Bucky has left the chat-

Steve: Why did Bucky leave

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[sinner-as-saint]

run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. 

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes 

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list. 

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.” 

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night… 

— 

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you. 

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl. 

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it. 

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you. 

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees. 

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought. 

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again. 

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.” 

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore. 

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered. 

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music. 

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.” 

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap. 

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.” 

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room. 

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His. 

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man. 

But no. 

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either. 

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest. 

“She left me.” 

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may. 

—

But now Bucky knew where you were. 

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions. 

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you. 

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all. 

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you. 

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV. 

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods. 

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily. 

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it. 

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered? 

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap. 

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs. 

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him. 

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly. 

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.” 

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you. 

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…” 

That’s it. 

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away. 

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though. 

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home. 

But that ended up not happening. 

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance. 

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind. 

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here? 

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?” 

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out. 

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed. 

“Bucky, I—,” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.” 

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care. 

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.” 

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did. 

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough. 

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry. 

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman. 

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear. 

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.” 

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in. 

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive. 

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough. 

More, more, more. You mentally chanted. 

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?” 

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably. 

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” 

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.” 

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…” 

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out. 

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. 

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?” 

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you. 

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding. 

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you. 

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt. 

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly. 

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,” 

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.” 

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” 

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers. 

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.” 

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look. 

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him. 

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it. 

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit. 

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so… 

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less. 

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be. 

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it. 

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered. 

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.” 

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully. 

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.” 

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.” 

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too. 

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia. 

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend. 

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you. 

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.” 

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.” 

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.” 

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?” 

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.” 

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.” 

You nodded in confirmation. 

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned. 

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly. 

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.” 

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.” 

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,” 

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently. 

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.” 

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.” 

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?” 

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply. 

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again. 

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here. 

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.” 

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice. 

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,” 

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,” 

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.” 

Bucky frowned. “Baby…” 

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.” 

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.” 

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen. 

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now. 

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind. 

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space. 

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.” 

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.” 

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?” 

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.” 

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone. 

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you. 

— 

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes. 

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well. 

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already. 

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased. 

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.  

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time. 

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours. 

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.” 

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again. 

“And you’re mine.” 

— 

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?” 

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.” 

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen. 

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second. 

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought. 

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable. 

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?” 

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you. 

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.” 

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?” 

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle. 

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.” 

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow. 

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.” 

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough. 

“Bucky.�� You warned. 

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.” 

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,” 

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,” 

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?” 

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.” 

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face. 

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.” 

You sniffled. “Buck…” 

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.” 

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile. 

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked. 

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could. 

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you. 

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased. 

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly. 

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried. 

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants. 

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again. 

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…” 

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you. 

This time, he made you a different promise. 

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.” 

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

[witchywithwhiskey]

room for one more

pairing: movie star!bucky barnes x female reader x movie star!steve rogers

summary: you meet your boyfriend's best friend for the first time, and he perfectly matches the energy of your relationship. then, what was meant to be a fun night for the three of you, turns into something more.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, threesome, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f and m receiving), anal fingering, come eating/swallowing, come play, semi-public play, light bdsm, check-ins, marking/bruises, teasing, edging, light overstimulation, some m/m (kissing and hand-holding), dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), aftercare, established relationship, happy ending polycule

word count: 12.2k

a/n: i was inspired by those pics from last month at the walk of fame ceremony, and this was originally just going to be a fun, flirty threesome. but then as i was writing, the characters decided we were adding some bucky/steve to the mix, so here we are!!! i haven't written anything like this before so i hope i did ok 🫣 also i did not mean for this fic to be so long but i had so much fun writing it, i just couldn't stop hahah anyway! hope y'all enjoy!!!

A jolt of excitement shot down your spine when you recognized Steve Rogers approaching through the crowd beneath the white canvas tent set up on Hollywood Boulevard. Your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, must’ve felt the way your body tensed as you sat beside him, because his hand tightened on your bare thigh. 

Bucky wasn’t looking at you—he’d caught sight of his oldest friend, and the corners of his mouth were flickering in the way they did when he was trying to repress a grin—but you could feel his own excitement in the way his fingers dug into your soft flesh. You had a feeling you weren’t the only one thinking about the plans you, Bucky and Steve had for that evening.

But then your boyfriend’s touch was gone and Bucky was standing to greet his oldest friend with a tight hug. There were even a few enthusiastic back pats thrown into the mix. It was clear the men were happy to see each other.

You watched the interaction, fascinated. In all the time that you’d been dating Bucky, you hadn’t met his childhood friend, nor had you seen them interact, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he relaxed in Steve’s presence. Bucky’s shoulders loosened and his smile was easier. Normally, he’d be tense in a crowd surrounded by photographers, and look to you for comfort—and you were always happy to give it. 

But it seemed you weren’t the only person who could have a calming effect on Bucky, and it made you smile to see him catch up with Steve, a sense of happiness settling into your heart as you watched your boyfriend talk to his best friend. There was an easiness to their interaction that spoke to their decades of friendship, and instead of feeling put out that Bucky hadn’t introduced you yet, you understood he needed a moment with Steve. 

It had been months since they’d last seen each other, and they’d only been reunited for the Walk of Fame ceremony you were attending with Bucky, where a director he and his best friend had both worked with was receiving a star. The director had discovered Steve and Bucky when they were younger, giving them their first roles that eventually led to their careers in Hollywood. 

“Is this your girl?” Steve asked, his friendly voice pitched a little louder so you could hear it over the crowd of people all crammed beneath the tent. You looked up and found Steve’s face tilted down toward you, his attention making you feel warm all over. There was a playful, devastatingly handsome tilt to his mouth as he asked, “The future Mrs. Barnes?”

Steve held out both of his hands to you and you tipped your head back with a laugh as you slipped your fingers into his palms. He helped you to stand, his hands smoothing up your arms to your elbows, then pulled you into his orbit as he leaned in to brush kisses to both of your cheeks. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Steve,” you murmured in between skimming your lips over his whiskered cheeks, enjoying the prickle of his beard against your soft skin.

Since you were so close, Steve’s warm, woodsy scent washed over you. Somehow, it went straight to your head and your core, making you sway a little on your heels as a warmth bloomed deep in your belly. You had to repress a shiver and hold yourself back from burying your face in Steve’s neck to inhale more of his delicious smell as you leaned back from your greeting.

“The pap photos don’t do you justice, sweetheart, you’re much more gorgeous in person,” Steve rumbled, his hands giving your arms a light squeeze before he stepped back to a more polite distance.

You felt bereft without Steve’s touch, and you reached instinctively for Bucky’s hand. Your boyfriend slid in next to you, catching your fingers in one of his hands while the other settled against your lower back. His familiar cologne filled your senses and you smiled up at him, feeling steadier as you leaned into Bucky. In your chest, your heart was racing, and you tried to make sense of the riot of emotions in your belly. 

Thankfully, Steve’s comment about paparazzi got the men talking about their least favorite aspect of working in Hollywood and you could take a moment to collect yourself.

As you did, you took the opportunity to look at Steve properly. 

Of course, you’d seen him in movies, and in plenty of photos on social media. You’d even seen him in some pictures of the two friends that Bucky had hanging in the brownstone you shared together in Brooklyn. But it was a different thing entirely to see your boyfriend’s Hollywood heartthrob best friend in person.

Steve had made a name for himself in the business as the golden boy action hero, leading a franchise that had grossed over $2 billion with just three movies. In his mid-30s, he had his pick of any blockbuster movie role in town, and he had the looks and the talent to make whatever film he chose a success.

Your eyes, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, raked down Steve’s body, and it struck you how much he looked like the epitome of an action hero with his broad shoulders and trim waist. His biceps bulged in the sleeves of his short-sleeved button-up and his thighs filled out his slacks nicely.

Trailing your eyes back up to his handsome face, you noted that Steve’s beard was well-groomed and his watch looked expensive despite its simplicity. But he managed to look much more down-to-earth with his navy blue cap and sunglasses than most of the overly shiny men in Hollywood. 

It almost made you smile how you could immediately spot so many differences between Steve and Bucky, but, at the same time, so many similarities, too. 

Although they were both actors, their career trajectories had gone in completely different directions. While Steve had become an action star, Bucky had made a name for himself in indie movies and prestige dramas. Also in his mid-30s, Bucky had a few major awards under his belt, and he was often flying around the world to promote his movies at film festivals like Cannes. 

But, like Steve, he’d opted for a more down-to-earth look for the Walk of Fame ceremony, choosing a patterned button-up tucked into simple slacks. He looked a bit more polished, in your opinion, and just as handsome as his best friend. Though he didn’t have the same broad build as Steve, he still looked strong and fit—and his ass filled out his slacks very nicely, which you’d told him before the two of you had left your hotel suite that morning. 

“It’s a shame it took something like this to finally get you both out here to LA at the same time,” Steve said, getting your attention. 

He shifted closer to your side opposite Bucky, making you feel almost caged in between their two broad chests. To your surprise, though, you didn’t mind. You felt more comfortable between them, and you wondered what it would feel like to be pressed between their broad bodies without any clothes in the way…

“I’ve been dying to meet your girl,” Steve went on, his voice dropping low so only you and your boyfriend could hear. His fingers skimmed up the back of your arm and across the bare skin of your shoulders, making you tremble lightly. Steve’s eyes danced across your face and he smirked as he said, “And I can’t wait to get to know you intimately later tonight, sweetheart.”

You visibly shuddered at Steve’s suggestive words, your mind jumping immediately to the plans the three of you had for that evening. They entailed the hotel suite Bucky had booked for the evening, and the three of you alone together, completely naked. Touching, kissing, and more.

The plans were a result of conversations you’d had with your boyfriend. Bucky had told you early on in your relationship that he had a fantasy about sharing his girl with his best friend, and you’d liked the idea far more than you’d expected. However, it had been difficult to make happen, given his and Steve’s busy movie star schedules. So, despite it being the same day you were meeting Steve, that night might be the only time in a long time that it could happen.

But something about the energy between the three of you in that warm tent made you think that even if the plan wasn’t already for you, Bucky and Steve to end up in bed together that night, it would’ve happened anyway. You couldn’t put your finger on why you thought so, but it had quite a bit to do with the hungry looks they were shooting your way—and exchanging with each other.

“Don’t get her all riled up yet, Stevie,” Bucky chided his best friend lightly, but when he cut his eyes to you behind his sunglasses, you could see a mischievous glimmer in their depths. “You keep whispering in her ear like that, and she’s gonna end up leaving a mess on her chair.”

Biting back a gasp, you squirmed against Bucky’s side, your embarrassment at his comment fanning the flames of your arousal. Your boyfriend chuckled at your reaction and wrapped his arm around your back, his fingers digging into your hip to hold you still, though that only made you want to writhe against him some more.

Steve’s eyebrows winged upward at Bucky’s comment, and you could tell from the slight shifting of his head that he was looking back and forth between your faces, a small smirk on his lips. “Is that so?” he asked, the slight edge of a challenge in his tone. 

Bucky knew your body well—he knew what turned you on and just how wet he could make you with his words and voice alone. You’d long since learned that your boyfriend got a great deal of enjoyment out of teasing you and working you up until you were begging for him. He loved seeing just how wet and sloppy he could make you, pushing you both until you were ravenous for each other. 

So it didn’t surprise you that Bucky shot his best friend a cocky grin and drawled, “Oh Stevie, you’d be surprised at just how messy my girl can get.” 

Heat flushed fast and fierce through your body and you whipped your head around to look at your boyfriend. It was on the tip of your tongue to demand he and Steve take you back to your hotel, but at that moment, the event organizers began telling everyone to take their seats. 

You were frustrated and thankful for the interruption as you took your seat between Bucky and Steve. Although the ceremony beginning meant there was no way you could convince Bucky to leave early, at least it meant your boyfriend and his best friend couldn’t continue to torture you.

At least, that’s what you naively believed. Until not one, but two hands slipped onto your bare thighs. 

“You don’t mind, do ya, Buck?” Steve asked cheerfully across you, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that nearly had you whimpering. He wore a shameless grin as he sat forward, looking at your boyfriend while touching you.

Your thoughts had scattered, and it didn’t even occur to you how inappropriate it was for Steve to put his hand on your thigh right in front of your boyfriend. In the deepest reaches of your heart, it just felt right for both Bucky and Steve to have their hands on you. And instead of being surprised by Steve’s boldness, you just felt desperate for one of them to move their hand higher, to stroke their fingers over the spot where you needed them most. 

“Not at all, Stevie,” Bucky replied easily, his tone almost nonchalant as he dragged his gaze up from Steve’s hand to his best friend’s face. “You go right ahead,” he said, shifting in his chair, moving closer to you as he began stroking his thumb against your other leg, matching Steve’s rhythm so perfectly, it was maddening.

If you didn’t know Bucky so well, you wouldn’t have been able to detect the undercurrent of desire in his tone, or the way he was shifting in his seat to hide the slight bulge in the front of his slacks. Your whole body clenched tight with the reminder that you weren’t the only one excited by the knowledge that you would be bringing Steve into your bed that evening. 

Bucky clearly got off on seeing his best friend’s hand on your thigh and you relaxed a little. Your boyfriend’s desire calmed the anxiety you didn’t know you had—anxiety that you were the only one excited for more—leaving only arousal simmering deliciously in your belly.

As if somehow sensing your thoughts, Bucky leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Bucky purred, his voice as warm as the summer sun shining on the crowded tent. “Having my best friend’s hand on your thigh, his fingers so close to your sweet, needy cunt?” 

Bucky’s fingers slid slowly up your thigh, curling beneath the hem of your dress, teasing closer to the heat nestled between your thighs. He was so close to touching you where you needed him most, that you had to bite back a whimper before even beginning to think about answering. 

Your boyfriend’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, urging you to respond, but all you could manage was one word.

“Bucky.” His name was the softest whine lilting from your lips, carried on the gentle California breeze. Your fingers were clinging to the edges of your seat and you squirmed restlessly, already feeling wetness gathering between your legs and soaking into the thin fabric of your panties. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” came Steve’s voice, rich and deep in your other ear. “You keep squirming and whining like that, and you might draw attention to yourself.” His fingers slipped beneath your dress, slotting in between Bucky’s as both men gripped your thighs, groping you unabashedly despite the crowd that surrounded the three of you. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Bucky’s chuckle ghosted past the sensitive skin of your neck and your shoulders trembled with the effort it took to stop yourself from writhing on your chair. Pressing your lips together, you bit back the desperate mewl that threatened to spill from your lips, heeding Steve’s warning and suppressing the urge to beg them to touch you, crowd be damned.

Steve was right, after all. You were in a crowded tent, waiting for the Walk of Fame ceremony to begin, surrounded by your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues—and there were cameras everywhere. You may have felt surrounded well enough by the broad shoulders of your boyfriend and his best friend sitting on either side of you, but it was a false sense of privacy.

You knew you needed to sit up straight and smile blandly, and pretend like Bucky and Steve’s hands weren’t slowly inching closer to the juncture of your thighs. You needed to play the part of Bucky’s devoted girlfriend, and normally it wouldn’t be too difficult. Your boyfriend didn’t usually play this game in public, since he knew you were one photograph away from winding up on the home page of TMZ with a headline calling you Bucky Barnes’ whore or something equally degrading. 

But there was something about Steve being there that was making your boyfriend act a little reckless. And, despite Steve being the one to warn you about the situation you were in, you knew he was the foolhardy one. You could feel his energy urging Bucky on, and your boyfriend seemed all too happy to match his best friend’s energy. 

“Didn’t you know, Stevie,” Bucky began, his voice quiet but easygoing, as if he was talking to his best friend about something as banal as the weather or their new movies. “My girl’s a needy little slut, and she can’t help acting like it.” 

Your teeth sank into your lower lip a mere second before the tips of Bucky’s fingers brushed so, so gently against the soaking wet fabric of your panties. A strangled moan caught in your throat and you tried to squirm in your seat, but Bucky and Steve’s hands clamped down hard on your thighs, holding you still.

“Just look at the way she’s spreading her legs for us,” Bucky went on, a new warmth in his tone, like he was wholly enjoying the way you were getting worked up. “She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.” Bucky’s face tilted toward you, and you could feel his gaze like a warm caress against your cheek as he asked, in a patronizingly sweet voice, “Do you, baby?”

Despite the chatter of the crowd around you, the sharp breath you inhaled at Bucky’s question was loud in your ears. You dragged your gaze away from your boyfriend’s face and looked down to see your thighs had spread open on your chair, much wider than was appropriate for the public ceremony, without you even noticing.

Your first instinct was to snap your legs closed, and somehow, both men seemed to anticipate it. Bucky and Steve moved simultaneously, almost as if they’d planned it, shoving their hands under your dress to be trapped between your plush thighs. Their fingertips were so close to your pulsing heat, but not quite touching it. 

Your legs clenched tight together around their warm hands, trying to force them to touch you, but it was no use. They were trapped, and so were you, unable to spread your legs and beg them for more while you were sitting in the crowded tent on Hollywood Boulevard.

If Bucky and Steve minded that their fingers were tangled together between your thighs, they didn’t show it. Both men were grinning at each other, their bodies bracketing either side of yours, heads ducked together as if the three of you were simply having a private conversation. 

But that’s not what was happening. Your body was a riot of sensation, of desperate, burning need. Fisting your hands in your lap, you curled in on yourself and shuddered, biting your bottom lip hard against a moan of pleasure and frustration. 

It felt so good to have their hands on you, but you wanted them to touch you for real. You wanted them to push your panties to the side and stroke your clit before plunging their fingers into your dripping hole. But they couldn’t. And more than that, you knew they wouldn’t. Not while the three of you were in public and surrounded by people.

Bucky’s hand settled over your curled fists, his strong fingers easing the tension from your hands until he could slip his palm into both of yours. “Sit up, baby, the ceremony’s finally starting,” Bucky murmured in your ear, not unkindly. 

His other hand flexed gently on your thigh, making you wheeze and tremble as you straightened, but your boyfriend only chuckled under his breath when you shot him a little glare. He ducked close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, mollifying you for the moment.

Your fingers tangled with Bucky’s on your lap as you sat up and pushed your shoulders back, fixing a polite smile on your face. You did your best to ignore the fact that both your boyfriend and his best friend’s hands were tucked between your thighs beneath your dress, making a valiant effort to pretend as if nothing was amiss. 

It helped that you had something to hold onto, your fingers twining idly with Bucky’s. You hadn’t realized you were fidgeting a bit too much until you felt another hand land gently on your forearm, and you followed it up to look at Steve. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, his hand squeezing your arm lightly, and you settled further. 

While the emcee of the ceremony took the small stage and began to introduce the director being honored, you managed to relax. You focused on the speech being given, and worked to remain quiet, despite the still burning heat in your blood.

You thought, once the ceremony began, the boys would behave themselves, but you were wrong.

Bucky and Steve seemed to work in synchrony, taking turns whispering filthy things into your ear that refused to let you forget you had their hands trapped between your thighs, your body aching for them to touch you.

Sometimes they’d tease you with the predicament you found yourself in, and other times they’d make promises that they intended to fulfill once the three of you were alone.

They were equally merciless, their words getting dirtier and dirtier as the ceremony went on, and your core throbbed unrelentingly, the evidence of your drawn-out arousal dripping into your panties and smearing on the plastic seat of the chair. 

It became increasingly apparent that Bucky’s playful warning would come true—you were going to leave a wet spot behind when you stood up. But no matter how you tried to rein in your desire, Bucky and Steve were determined to keep you on edge with their words and their touch alone. It was all you could do to try to portray the image of a respectful Hollywood girlfriend, and not the wanton slut all three of you knew you to be. 

Finally, the ceremony wrapped up and all around you, people began to stand and chatter again as photographers hired for the event escorted some to have their pictures taken with the director being honored. 

The reality that you’d have to stand up on legs that felt like butter melted in the summer sun hit you all at once, and you grabbed Bucky’s hand before he could stand up. You gave him a desperate, pleading look, unable to find the words to ask for help. 

But your boyfriend must’ve felt the way your leg trembled beneath his other hand, because he seemed to understand your plight. He glanced around before removing his hand from under your dress, Steve following his lead and doing the same. 

Both men had turned their bodies toward you, caging you in and protecting you from the eyes of the crowd and the paparazzi. Bucky wrapped his arm tightly around your waist while Steve braced your arm under his, and they both helped you to stand. 

It took a moment, and you swayed between their broad bodies, their scents swirling around you and making you want to sink into both of them. But after a moment, you managed to get your legs to work and hold you up with minimal help from your boyfriend and his best friend.

Once you were steady, you watched the boys exchange a look and then, in tandem, they looked over your shoulder and down at the seat where you’d just been sitting. You, however, didn’t need to look to know what they’d see, and your cheeks flamed with red-hot embarrassment, even as your core throbbed in arousal. 

Steve sucked in a sharp breath at the same time Bucky chuckled, and you knew—there was a wet spot on your chair. You tried to bury your face in Bucky’s chest, but he tutted at you quietly and gripped your chin to turn your face to Steve. 

Your boyfriend’s best friend had waited until he had your attention, then he shot you a wicked grin before ducking down and wiping his fingers through the mess you’d left behind on the seat, cleaning up most of it. As he stood back up, he popped his fingers into his mouth.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you watched Steve lick your arousal from his fingers, his soft groans reaching your ears over the noise of the crowd. 

“Mm, you taste just as sweet as I hoped,” Steve murmured, crowding into you with a delicious smirk curling his mouth. Leaning in, his beard brushed gently against your cheek, making you shudder. “You really are just as much of a slut as Bucky said, huh?” 

You tried to bite back a whimper, but the soft sound of desperation slipped free from your lips. “Yes,” you mewled, meeting Steve’s gaze through both your sunglasses, feeling his hunger sear you to the bone while Bucky’s hands held you steady. 

“Can’t wait to bury my mouth in your cunt later, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, nuzzling the side of your face lightly. You could smell yourself on his breath, and it made you tremble harder in Bucky’s arms. “Gonna make you scream for being such a good girl and putting up with me and Bucky’s teasing.”

Your eyes were wide behind your sunglasses, your breathing shallow, and you couldn’t stop shaking with desire. You felt like you might explode right there on Hollywood Boulevard, and Bucky seemed to sense that you’d been pushed to your limit. 

“Alright, Stevie, that’s enough,” Bucky said as he tucked you in beneath his arm. His tone held an undercurrent of finality, and Steve backed off, nodding as he gave your elbow an apologetic squeeze.

Then Bucky’s fingers were gently nudging your chin to lift so he could look at your face and check on you. Even through his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze roving over your face and you smiled softly to let him know you were ok. Bucky pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You were a very good girl, baby,” he praised in a soft rumble, swiping his thumb just beneath your bottom lip, cleaning away some of your lipgloss. “I’m so proud of you.” He brushed another kiss to your forehead and let your head fall against his shoulder, taking a moment amidst the chaos of the post-ceremony rush to hold you.

You snuggled into your boyfriend despite the warm summer heat in the tent, enjoying the comfort of his familiar scent and letting it relax you. You knew you still had a few hours before Bucky and Steve would take you back to the hotel suite your boyfriend had booked for the night, and you took the opportunity to let the desire in your body cool just a bit.

Too soon, a photographer was calling for Bucky and Steve and they left you to take photos with the director. You waited for them, long having gotten used to watching Bucky get his picture taken. 

As you watched Bucky and Steve laugh together, throwing their arms around each other, you were struck again by how much at ease your boyfriend was with his best friend. Part of the reason he’d chosen to get a place in Brooklyn was that he said he always felt awkward at Hollywood events, and you’d squeezed his hand in comfort enough times to know that to be the truth.

But with Steve at his side, Bucky looked just as relaxed as if the three of you were hanging out alone, throwing his head back as his best friend made some kind of joke just for him. 

It occurred to you that perhaps you should feel jealous. After all, you took great pride in being one of the few people who could make Bucky feel comfortable and relaxed. But instead you just felt happy—you were glad Bucky had someone else in his life who made him feel at ease.

When the pictures were finally done, Bucky cut through the crowd to wind an arm around your waist, tugging you against his body and dropping his mouth to yours for a quick kiss.

“Ready to get out of here, baby?” he murmured, a delicious smirk on his handsome face. You nodded eagerly as Steve slid in next to Bucky, joining the two of you and making a circle of three. You smiled at Steve, who gave you a devastating grin in return.

The hours after the ceremony went by in a blur. Despite your best efforts to calm yourself, burning need simmered low in your belly, ensuring your body never properly settled, even through the early dinner you shared with Bucky, Steve and some of their close Hollywood friends. 

Your pulse seemed to beat in time with the watch on Steve’s wrist, your body instinctively counting down the seconds until your boyfriend and his best friend would take you back to the hotel and fulfill their promises of sharing you. You had to keep your thoughts on other things, lest you leave another wet spot on your seat, while you smiled and chatted through dinner.

The elevator in the hotel felt too cramped for the three of you, and you clung desperately to Bucky’s hand, your fingers twisted so tightly around his, you would’ve worried about cutting off his circulation if you could think of anything else but the throbbing heat between your thighs. Steve snagged your other hand, holding it tightly and giving it an encouraging squeeze that you felt in your core.

The door to the hotel suite had barely closed when Steve pounced on you, his hand wrapping around the front of your throat as he backed you up into Bucky’s chest, his lips descending on yours as he took possession of your mouth like you were his to devour. You let out a small squeak of surprise before surrendering to Steve’s plundering mouth, sinking into the need and desire of his tongue as it stroked against yours.

Bucky’s hands circled your upper arms, holding you pinned between the two men’s firm bodies while Steve ravaged your mouth. Unable to stop himself, Bucky dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing the fluttering spot over your thrumming pulse point and nuzzling your soft skin with his whiskered jaw until you were shivering with need.

Then Steve was dropping to his knees, right there in the entryway of the suite, muttering something about needing to taste your cunt straight from the source. If it wasn’t for Bucky holding you steady, your knees would’ve given out at the sight of the golden boy action hero staring at the juncture of your thighs with such determination, it sent a quiver of anticipation down your spine.

Steve moved quickly, pushing your dress up past your thighs and ripping your panties down your legs, tossing them away. He crawled closer, throwing one of your thighs over his broad shoulder before burying his face in your cunt, groaning loudly against your slick folds.

Bucky held you propped up against his chest, his hands holding your dress up so the both of you could stare down your body and watch Steve feast on you like a starving man. While his best friend ate you out, Bucky pressed kisses and little love bites into your neck, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

Your boyfriend told you what a good girl you were, behaving so well for him and his best friend while Steve’s tongue buried deep into your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit until you came with a scream. Your spine arched, and you twined a hand in Steve’s soft blond hair while your other clung to Bucky’s arm, holding onto both of them as you shattered apart on Steve’s tongue.

After that preamble in the suite’s entryway, it wasn’t long before you were bouncing on Steve’s cock, another orgasm quickly building in your core. 

The boys had divested you of your remaining clothing and shed theirs in a flurry of hands skimming over naked skin and low, appreciative groans. You hadn’t been able to stop touching either of them, your fingers raking over hardened muscle and nails digging into golden skin. You felt drunk and gluttonous on the ability to finally touch them, really touch them, in the true privacy of the hotel suite.

As you fucked yourself on Steve’s perfect cock, your hands never seemed to stop moving, fingers digging into his pecs, his abs, trailing up the sides of his ribs until he was laughing and moaning at the same time. His face was a little flushed, rosy pink spots in his cheeks, and his mouth flattened into a determined line. Steve was just as beautiful undone beneath you as he’d been when you’d first seen him in person on Hollywood Boulevard.

“Fuck—fuck, sweetheart, your cunt’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” Steve huffed, his hips working up between your thighs, impaling you on his thick cock. “Fuck, ‘m gonna blow in your pretty pussy in no time if you keep…” 

He trailed off as the tip of his dick hit a spot inside you that made your whole pussy clench down on his hard, heavy length. Steve threw his head back with a growly groan, his fingers digging so hard into your soft hips, you suspected he’d leave bruises behind.

Not that you minded in the least. 

It felt too good, Steve’s thick, hard length pounding into you from below, bouncing you on his cock so your tits heaved and you wanted to pinch your nipples, but you were too eager to keep touching your boyfriend’s best friend to tear your hands away. 

Your gaze trailed away from Steve, finding Bucky sitting back on his knees beside you and his best friend, a satisfied smirk on his perfect mouth while he pumped his own cock lazily in his fist. His glimmering blue eyes were focused on the place where you were impaled on Steve’s cock, but when you whined desperately, his gaze flicked up to meet yours.

“Ya having fun, baby?” Bucky asked, humor in his tone as he ignored the pleading look in your eyes. A drop of precum beaded at the tip of his dick and your mouth watered with the desire to flick your tongue over his cock head and lap it up. But then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“Yes, yes, but I need more,” you rasped, your voice husky with arousal, stuttering out of you as Steve kept pounding you from below. You arched your spine, sticking out your tits and putting them on display for the men while your fingers dug into Steve’s abs, hoping your boyfriend would take the hint,

“Greedy girl,” Bucky said, chuckling good-naturedly as he shifted closer on his knees. You angled your body toward him and he took one of your breasts in his free hand, kneading it with dextrous fingers while his mouth descended on the other. He sucked your nipple into his mouth and laved his tongue over it, still stroking his cock.

If Steve cared that Bucky’s cock was close to leaking all over his arm and ribs, he didn’t say. Instead, the blond man’s eyes glittered with desire as he watched your boyfriend play with your tits.

“Christ, Buck, you get to fuck this pussy every day?” Steve huffed, awe and a little bit of jealousy in his ragged voice. 

Bucky’s low laugh ghosted over your dewy skin. He gave your nipple one last affectionate suckle before pulling his mouth away, his other hand trailing down your body and between your thighs. Your boyfriend teased a fingertip around your clit, making your body jerk, a whine slipping from your lips that only made him laugh again.

“Stevie,” Bucky began, light admonishment in his tone. He rubbed your clit, making you wail in pleasure as your body clenched down hard around Steve’s cock, pulling a loud grunt from the man between your thighs. “I fuck this pussy multiple times a day. You know how she feels now, wouldn’t you fuck her every chance you got?”

“Yes—fucking christ, yes,” Steve groaned, his chest heaving, hips rising up from the bed as he fucked you harder, chasing his release. 

His wild blue eyes caught yours, Steve’s expression fixed into one of tenacity that made your pussy flutter. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, his fingers digging deeper into your hips, nearing the point of pain as he pulled you down onto his stiff length. “Come on my cock—let me feel you before I blow my load in your cunt, please.”

You didn’t know if it was Steve’s ‘please’ or his cock buried deep in your pussy or Bucky’s fingers on your clit—though you suspected it was a combination of all three—but the pleasure coiling tight in your core snapped. Electric currents of ecstasy flashed through your body as you came. Tossing your head back, you screamed your release to the heavens, your hips working of their own accord, grinding your pulsing cunt mercilessly on Steve’s cock.

Your boyfriend’s best friend was right behind you, coming with a rough shout, the tendons of his neck straining with his head thrown back on the bed. His fingers dug so deep into your plush hips, you could’ve sworn they reached down to the bone as he pulled you flush against his abdomen.

He was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock twitch and the pulsing warmth of his come as it flooded your pussy. The sensation dragged another fluttering wave from your cunt, and you writhed against Steve, both of you eking out as much pleasure from each other as possible. 

Bucky’s fingers didn’t relent on your clit until you whined at the overstimulation, your upper body swaying almost drunkenly. Your head felt like it was filled with puffy clouds of pleasure as you slowly came down from the peak of your release, enjoying the way your body buzzed and your pussy fluttered around Steve’s softening cock.

“You did so good, baby,” Bucky murmured into your cheek before kissing your temple tenderly. 

A smile flickered at the corners of your lips as your eyes slid closed and you slumped against your boyfriend’s broad chest. You pressed your face into his sternum, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of his cologne lingering on his skin. 

For a long moment, the three of you stayed like that. Bucky’s hand trailed comfortingly up and down your spine, his lips pressing sweet kisses to your face, while Steve’s big hands massaged your hips to ease some of the sting from his brutal grip. You were still going to bruise, but you didn’t mind having his marks on you.

Unsurprisingly, their hands touching you, no matter how gentle and soft they were being, had an effect on you, and it wasn’t long before desire rekindled in your core. Your hips squirmed restlessly, feeling Steve’s cock slip from your pussy, his release dripping out of you and making a mess of both your bodies. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, fingers trailing down his chest and taking his hard length in your hand. Your boyfriend’s cock jumped excitedly against your palm, the tip leaking precum that you desperately wanted to taste. Siting up, you looked up at your boyfriend from under your lashes, the corner of your mouth curling in a smirk. “D’you want my mouth or my pussy?”

A pained sounding groan came from Steve, drawing both your and Bucky’s attention. The blond man had thrown an arm over his eyes, looking exhausted, even with the smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” Steve muttered, but you could feel his cock twitching beneath your messy cunt, trying to harden again already.

Bucky laughed huskily, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck before he pulled you to him for a consuming kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth and you wondered distantly if he could taste Steve’s kiss on your lips, but then he groaned into you and all thoughts scattered from your mind.

When your boyfriend finally pulled away, you were breathless with anticipation, your wetness dripping from your pussy to coat Steve’s already slick cock. 

“You’re gonna clean up the mess you left all over Stevie’s cock, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his hand cupped beneath your chin, fingers digging lightly into your cheeks. “While I pump your pretty pussy full of another load of come. D’you want that?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, not even needing to think about it. “Yes, please!”

Both men chuckled at your enthusiastic response as they began shifting on the bed, rearranging themselves to make Bucky’s words come true. 

Steve dragged his half-hard cock from between your messy folds, making you whimper at the loss of him as the cold hotel air rushed in against your throbbing core. The blond man smirked a little smugly, ducking forward and capturing your lips in an apologetic kiss.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled when he pulled away, laughter in his tone. “You’ll have my cock again before tonight’s over.” He dropped one, last smacking kiss to your lips before shifting up the bed. He flopped down in the mound of pillows with a contented sigh and spread his thick, golden thighs for you to crawl between. 

You bent forward onto your hands and knees and slid up the bed to settle between Steve’s legs, your fingers playing with the golden hair covering the taut muscles of his thighs as you pressed your face to his hip, leaving a lingering kiss against his skin. 

You felt Bucky moving into position behind you, and you smiled against Steve’s abdomen when your boyfriend’s hands grabbed your hips. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as you kissed closer to Steve’s cock.

Bucky adjusted your body until your ass lined up with his lap. His cock pressed between your closed thighs, sliding through the slickness of your and his best friend’s releases to coat his hard length, and you moaned into the thick thatch of hair at the base of Steve’s cock. 

Turning your head to the side, you lowered your shoulders so your boyfriend could see you nuzzling his best friend’s hardening dick, which was still soaking wet with a mixture of his come and yours. The scent of your release mixing with Steve’s while Bucky teased you from behind was a heady thing and your hips swayed from side to side, your pussy aching desperately to be filled again.

“Ready for me, baby?” Bucky teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. He dragged the head of his cock through your dripping slit, making you whine and try to push back onto his stiff length. 

Cutting your eyes over your shoulder, you gave your boyfriend a pleading look. “Please, Bucky, just fuck me,” you mewled, arching your back and spreading your thighs as much as you could, presenting your pussy to your boyfriend the way you knew he liked. 

You could tell by the way Bucky’s blue eyes darkened and dropped to the cleft of your ass that he liked what he saw. His big hands groped your thighs, then your ass, spreading your cheeks wide and grinning as he ran his thumbs along the seam of your pussy, pulling you open for him. 

“Well, since you begged so pretty…” He trailed off as he lined himself up with your hole, and then he was shoving the full length of his cock deep in your cunt.

You cried out in pleasure as Bucky speared into your sensitive hole, your face pressing against Steve’s cock, which jumped in response as if begging for your attention. 

Looking up Steve’s muscular form, you found him propped up on the pillows at the head of the bed, one arm angled behind his head. His bicep bulged in a way that made your mouth water, wanting to trace the veins of his arm. Instead, you put your tongue to use on his cock, dragging the flat of it up the entire length and humming a satisfied sound as the taste of your combined releases filled your mouth.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Steve groaned, his hips jerking up off the bed, pushing his hardening length against your kiss-swollen lips as if begging for more.

You acquiesced to his body’s wordless plea, taking the tip of him into your mouth and sucking softly, swirling your tongue around the head, wringing a grunt from Steve. His hand fell gently to the crown of your head, petting you affectionately as you worked his cock deep into your mouth, your lips forming a seal as you sucked him to full hardness.

“Oh f-fuck,” Steve moaned, a slight tremor working through his thick thighs on either side of your body. His fingers flexed against your head, but he didn’t push you away or pull you closer. “Jesus, Buck, you didn’t mention your girl’s mouth felt like fucking heaven,” he ground out through a clenched jaw, his eyes flicking to your boyfriend over your shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, fucking you in slow, lazy strokes, seemingly content to watch you suck off his best friend. 

You knew exactly what he was doing, taking his time to give Steve the chance to recover so the two of them could take you at the same time. When you and Bucky had first discussed details about inviting Steve to join you for the night, you’d admitted that you’d fantasized about being spit-roasted, and you knew your wonderful boyfriend was making sure it happened before he took his own pleasure.

Bucky groped your ass tenderly, bringing you back to the moment as he laughed at Steve’s comment. 

“Some things you just gotta figure out for yourself, Stevie,” came your boyfriend’s snarky reply, but his voice was low and gruff. 

You could hear just how much your boyfriend was affected and you smirked around Steve’s cock, refocusing on your task so the two of them could fuck you properly and Bucky could come. 

“Just wait till you feel her ass,” Bucky went on, surprising you by rubbing his thumb teasingly over your tight rosebud. “My girl’s tightest hole will have ya seeing stars.” 

You hummed a pleased sound at Bucky’s praise, wringing a grunt from Steve as the vibrations travelled down his cock, and pushed your ass back against the tip of your boyfriend’s thumb. He chuckled, pressing past the ring of muscle in your ass and making your entire body melt when all three of your holes were filled.

Your throat relaxed enough that Steve’s cock slid into it, and you swallowed around him, making his hips stutter up off the bed again at the squeeze of your muscles. It seemed to take him effort to settle back onto the mattress, his hand flexing furiously against your head.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, while you bobbed up and down on his dick. Spit and drool coated the length of him, slipping past your lips and down your chin, making a new mess on his cock. “You’re gonna suck out my fucking soul if ya keep doing that.” 

You huffed a laugh before taking Steve to the root and looking up at him from under your lashes. His blue eyes were glittering with desire, but there was something else in his gaze, too. Something deeper that you couldn’t quite name, but made your heart pound a little bit harder.

Looking away from his searing gaze, you refocused on sucking Steve’s cock and reveling in the feeling of Bucky’s dick in your pussy while his thumb stayed buried in your ass.

The three of you lapsed into silence, save for the grunts and groans from Steve, and the rumbling growls from Bucky as he kept his self-control on a tightly held leash and fucked you in firm, steady strokes. Your own sounds were muffled by Steve’s cock, but the soft, wet noises added to the small cacophony of pleasure filling your ears.

Finally, when Steve’s cock was twitching and so slick with your spit that he was sliding easily into your throat, he used his hand on your head to gently pull you off him. When you glanced up at him, though, he wasn’t looking at you. Craning your head to look over your shoulder, you saw Bucky give his best friend a nod and you realized he must’ve shared your fantasy with Steve.

The realization didn’t bother you, and you paused. It should bother you that your boyfriend shared something so intimate about you with his best friend, shouldn’t it? But you found you didn’t mind, because you liked Steve. Not only did you like him, you trusted him. 

If you’d been able to think about it more, you might’ve realized that what you were beginning to feel for Steve was deeper than like and trust, but your boyfriend’s best friend was moving, dragging your attention back to the moment and the heat building steadily in your core.

Steve ducked forward to capture your lips in a quick kiss, tasting himself on your lips before he shifted up onto his knees, moving closer to you to line up the tip of his cock with your mouth. With one fist wrapped around the base of his length, Steve ran the tip along your pouting lower lip, leaving a trail of precum that you eagerly licked up.

“Eager little cum slut, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Steve rumbled with a low chuckle. He barely gave you time to grin and nod before he was pushing his cock between your lips like he was too impatient to wait for your answer when your hot mouth was so close to his hard length. “That’s it, take my cock—I’ll fill your slutty tummy with all the come in my balls.”

When he was buried in your throat, you moaned as loudly as you could manage, a shiver racing down your spine as you basked in the feeling of being filled from both ends. Bucky’s thick, hard cock was buried to the hilt in your pussy, his thumb still filling your ass, and Steve’s dick was pressed so deep in your throat, you could only breathe through your nose.

“Careful, Stevie,” Bucky warned, but there was more warmth than menace in his tone. “If you keep spoiling my girl, you might have to join us more often.” He pulled his hips back, until only the tip of his cock remained inside you, before snapping them forward more forcefully against your ass. The sharp smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh met your ears and you moaned again.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve groaned, his cock twitching in your throat as he grabbed the sides of your head and began to pump shallowly into your mouth. “I might finally move back to Brooklyn if you promise I can fuck your girl with you on the regular.” He bit back a moan, gritting his teeth as he fucked your mouth faster, matching Bucky’s pace. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of burying my dick in one of your girl’s tight holes.”

You purred in pleasure at Steve’s praise, the corners of your mouth curling into a faint smile as he spread your lips to bury his cock in your throat. Your boyfriend’s best friend grunted in pleasure and he shoved harder into your mouth, pushing your nose against his abdomen until you were fully pinned between the two men and impaled on their cocks. 

It was heaven, your mind floating with ecstasy as you gave yourself over to sensation. The slick drag of Bucky’s cock in your cunt, fucking Steve’s come deeper into you as he pounded your hole while he used his thumb in your ass to pull you back onto his hard length. Steve’s cock was thick and throbbing and delicious on your tongue, your lips closing around him to suck on his hardness as much as you could.

“Shoulda known the only way to get you back to Brooklyn was luring you with my girl’s pussy,” Bucky grunted, laughter in his voice. His hips slapped roughly against your ass, his free hand kneading your soft flesh and making you moan around Steve’s cock. “You can stay with us while you look for a place,” he offered, his tone snarky despite his obvious arousal. 

Pleasure swirled through your body, filling your head with fog, and it took you a long moment to understand Bucky’s words. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve been annoyed at Bucky for offering to let someone stay with you both without asking you first, but because it was Steve, you didn’t mind. In fact, the idea of Steve staying at the brownstone you and Bucky called home sounded perfect—not the least of which because it meant he and your boyfriend could fuck you whenever they wanted.

Your response to your boyfriend’s offer was delayed by the consuming pleasure they were giving you. So you moaned your delight belatedly at what the men were discussing, making them both chuckle. 

Steve stroked his thumb over your hollowed cheek, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes while he kept fucking your throat. 

“You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone patronizingly sweet. “Are you so much of a needy slut that you need two cocks to keep your cunt satisfied?”

Before you had a chance to nod or offer some other answer in the affirmative, Bucky huffed a laugh and spanked your ass lightly, the sound cracking through the hotel suite’s bedroom.

“Oh, she’s definitely that much of a slut,” he rumbled, his tone thick with love and affection, making you purr again. “Aren’t you, baby?” 

Obediently, you nodded your head, bobbing your mouth on Steve’s cock in the process and pulling a grunt from him even as both men laughed at your response. The boys fell silent again as they focused on fucking you, but your boyfriend didn’t seem able to stay quiet for long.

“If you do stay with us, watch out, Stevie—my girl loves sucking cock first thing in the morning.”

Your heart raced with excitement at the implication of Bucky’s words. It was one thing to be fucked by your boyfriend and his best friend in a random hotel room across the country from your home. It was another thing entirely for your boyfriend to let you wake up his best friend with a blow job. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in this hypothetical situation, Bucky was watching you suck Steve’s cock first thing in the morning. And, if so, was he in bed with his best friend… You began to suspect you and your boyfriend had a few things to talk about once he and his best friend were done fucking you.

“You kidding me, Buck?” Steve rasped, pulling your attention back to the present. “Waking up and immediately draining my balls in your girl’s perfect mouth sounds like a fucking dream.” 

He groaned, fucking your mouth harder, his thumbs swiping away the few tears that were falling onto your cheeks. Your heart beat harder, loving the way Steve was with you, so rough and gentle at the same time. So much like how Bucky treated you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’d always have the taste of my cock on your tongue if I had anything to say about it,” Steve cooed down at you, making you hum happily as pleasure swirled through you. Your lips curled, trying to smile as much as you could manage as you stared up at Steve.

“Fucking hell, Stevie,” Bucky growled, sounding angry at his best friend’s words, but you could feel the way his cock twitched inside you. 

Steve, though, wasn’t afforded the knowledge of Bucky’s body’s reaction to the thought of your mouth always tasting like his best friend’s come and he laughed abashedly. 

“Sorry, Buck, ‘m sure you don’t wanna be thinking about my cock while you’re kissing your girl.” 

Your boyfriend was uncharacteristically silent for a long beat, and both men slowed their movements. Steve’s hips stuttered to a stop with your face pressed to his abdomen so you couldn’t look up and see what was happening. 

The men must’ve been exchanging a wordless look because you could feel the energy in the room changing. It was uncertain at first, then tentative, then all-consuming.

“Fuck,” Steve wheezed, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he grabbed your head and held you still so he could pound into your mouth.

“Fuck ‘er good, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, his command drenched in desire. “Fill her mouth with your come, and coat her tongue in it.” 

Behind you, your boyfriend’s thrusts turned hard and rough, his thumb sliding free from your ass so he could grab your hips hard. His fingers dug into your plush curves hard enough, you knew he was going to give you a second set of bruises to match the ones Steve had left. Something about that felt perfectly right.

As for you, you were pinned so firmly between the two men, all you could do was suck Steve’s cock and moan at the ravenous pleasure burning through your body. 

It wasn’t long before Steve’s length twitched against your tongue and he pulled back until only the tip of his cock was in your mouth. He groaned loudly a second before he erupted in your mouth, filling it with rope after rope of his come, just like Bucky had told him to. 

It covered your tongue and slid down your throat, and you worked to swallow all of it while Steve furiously jacked off the rest of his stiff length, making sure he drained every drop from his balls.

As Steve came, Bucky’s hand curved around your hip and slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it hard just the way he knew you liked. In just a few seconds, Bucky had you shattering apart beneath him, your body trembling as you moaned around Steve’s softening cock, the vibrations making one last rope fall onto your tongue.

Your boyfriend must’ve been holding out for your release, because at the first clench of your cunt around his hard length, he was groaning. Bucky’s cock throbbed in your pussy and he buried himself to the root, filling you up with even more come and painting your cunt with his spend. 

The three of you writhed together as you each drew out each other’s orgasms. Your mouth popped off the end of Steve’s cock to suckle on his balls, making him shudder and let out the most tortured groan that was music to your ears. Bucky kept fucking you through the aftershocks of your release, ensuring every drop of his come was buried deep in your cunt.

Finally, when all three of you were exhausted and sated, you collapsed together on the soft hotel mattress. Bucky’s arm wrapped around your front and he hauled you up the bed to settle on your back against the pillows between him and Steve. Your legs were all tangled together and you couldn’t help the blissed out, happy smile that spread across your face as you looked from one man to the other.

“That was fucking amazing, sweetheart,” Steve murmured against your cheek before pressing a sweet kiss to your sweat-slick skin.

Bucky chuckled but nodded his agreement, dropping a kiss to your shoulder. “You were such a good girl, baby, you took both of us so well.” His fingers were dancing over your ribs, making you giggle and melt beneath their affectionate kisses and warm praise.

But something was niggling at you, a reminder of the moment Bucky and Steve had shared while they’d been buried inside you. The words Bucky had growled to his best friend flitted through your mind and you cut your eyes to your boyfriend, before shifting your gaze to his best friend, wondering if either of them were going to bring them up.

The energy in the room wasn’t awkward, but you could tell by the way they weren’t looking at each other, and were only paying attention to you that neither of them was going to revisit what was said between them in the heat of the moment. Rolling your eyes to yourself and huffing a silent sigh, you reached up and grabbed Steve by the back of the neck, pulling him to you for a messy kiss. 

He groaned when he tasted himself on your tongue and you could feel the corner of his mouth curl in a self-satisfied smile. But before the kiss could last too long, and too much of Steve’s taste could be washed from your tongue, you pulled away.

Turning to Bucky, you looked your boyfriend deep in the eye, a question in the slight raise of your brow. It took him a moment to understand what you were doing, but when he did, his gaze darkened with desire and his eyes dropped to your mouth. 

Then Bucky was kissing you—no, devouring you. His tongue plunged into your mouth and stroked against yours like he was licking it clean. A deep, guttural groan shuddered through your boyfriend when he tasted his best friend’s come on your tongue, and you could feel his cock twitch against your hip. 

Bucky kissed you until Steve’s taste was gone, and then he kissed you some more, his mouth worshipping yours in a way that stole your breath from your lungs. When he pulled away, he gave you a long, loving look, before his eyes lifted to his best friend. 

The men stared at each other for a long moment. You waited quietly between them with bated breath, wondering what would happen next…

For years to come, Bucky and Steve would fight good-naturedly over who leaned in first—who took that leap forward to turn their friendship into something more. Both of them would boast that they were the brave one. 

And every time they had their little fight, you’d get to tell Bucky and Steve that they both leaned forward at exactly the same second. That was the truth, and you knew because you’d been there to witness their first kiss.

Bucky and Steve’s mouths came together in a primal clashing of teeth and tongues, their lips consuming each other as they both groaned low in their chests. Years and years of friendship, and the something more that had been simmering beneath it, came to the surface, both men pouring their feelings into their kiss.

All you could do was watch, part of you shocked and part of you entirely unsurprised.

It was a wondrous thing to behold, your boyfriend kissing his oldest friend with just as much fervor as he kissed you after being gone on a long film shoot. They were both so gluttonous for each other, and you could feel the depth of their love changing as the kiss slowed into something tender.

You’d have been lying if you’d said the sight of Bucky and Steve kissing hadn’t rekindled the heat in your body that had been sated just moments before. But it helped that you could feel both of their cocks twitching and hardening against your hips while their hands buried in each other’s hair.

Since you didn’t want to ruin the moment for either of them, but you also couldn’t remain still, not with your pussy pulsing desperately for attention, you slipped your hand between your legs. You trailed your fingers through the mess of wetness dripping from your cunt, pushing both men’s come back into your hole as you watched your boyfriend make out with his best friend in front of you.

You must’ve made a sound—or your thoroughly sopping wet pussy did—because Bucky and Steve finally pulled away from each other. Your boyfriend’s gaze dropped immediately to where you were fingering yourself, chuckling a low, filthy laugh.

“Looks like our girl doesn’t appreciate being left out, Stevie,” Bucky commented, using his grip on Steve’s hair to tilt his best friend’s head down to look at your cunt.

You spread your thighs, showing the men how you were using your fingers to push their combined releases back into your cunt, letting out a wanton moan as you watched their eyes darken further with desire. 

“Mm,” Steve rumbled in agreement, flicking his gaze back up to Bucky’s. “Think we should do something about that, Buck?” he asked, humor in his tone. “After all, our girl’s been so good for us today.”

You whined a little at that, agreeing without words as you shoved a second finger into your well-used cunt, trying to sate some of the desire that was burning through your body with a renewed hunger. 

“That she has,” Bucky agreed, still talking to Steve like you weren’t even there. Something about that—about both of them ganging up on you, made you hotter, wetter, and your thighs fell open even further. 

Before you could take a breath deep enough to let out another whine, Bucky was rolling over and grabbing some lube from the bedside table and tossing it to Steve. Then the boys were hauling you up from the bed and arranging you on your knees between them, your back to Steve’s chest. 

He was firm and steady behind you, his heart beating against your spine with just as much excitement as you felt in your belly. 

You could feel Steve messing around with the lube, but your attention was solely on Bucky, who was pumping his thick cock in his fist. You could still see the sheen of your release on his thick length, but you didn’t have time to appreciate that when he was pulling you onto his lap. Bucky impaled your pussy on his cock, shifting your weight to lay against his chest so Steve could spread your ass.

Steve’s cock pressed against your tight rosebud and both men used their hands to soothe your body and urge you to relax for them. Bucky cooed praises in your ear, telling you what a good girl you were for him and Steve. Your boyfriend caught your lips in a lazy kiss while Steve worked his cock into your ass, huffing and puffing the whole time.

“Fuck, I can feel you inside her, Buck,” Steve wheezed when he was fully seated inside you. His head dropped to your shoulder, pressing kisses along your back while the three of you got used to the feeling of being joined together. “She’s so fucking tight.”

You could practically hear the muscle in Steve’s jaw pop as he gritted his teeth. His cock twitched in your ass, making both you and Bucky moan. It felt so perfect, having them both inside you, filling you. You didn’t think you would ever get enough of having Bucky and Steve inside you at the same time, overwhelming you as they pressed you between their broad bodies.

“Mm, you’re making her tighter, Stevie,” Bucky murmured against your lips. Then he pulled back so he could look into your eye. “You doing ok, baby?” he asked, checking in with you. His eyes were filled with concern, but it wasn’t warranted.

“Sooo good,” you moaned, your voice drenched in pleasure and a dazed smile curling your lips, “feel sooo full.” 

You swayed a little, and your hands searched for something to grab onto, finding Bucky’s hand with one and Steve’s with the other. Their fingers laced with yours, their other hands on either side of your hips, holding you between them. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect and right it felt to be with them, before your thoughts were scattering at the sensation of them shifting inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips.

“I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer, Stevie,” Bucky warned, his voice a low rumble, his hips beginning to rock and fuck you on his cock. 

Steve huffed a laugh, rolling his hips in tandem with Bucky. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, Buck,” he rasped. “Our girl’s ass is so fucking tight, I feel like I could blow any second.”

You whined at the comment, unable to form the words to protest that idea, and Bucky immediately understood your distress. 

“Don’t worry, baby, we’d never get off without getting you off first,” he assured you, ducking forward for a quick kiss as your bodies writhed together.

At the same time, both Bucky and Steve’s hands slid down between your thighs. There was a moment of hesitation from both men, and you could practically feel them exchanging a look over your shoulder, but then their fingers slotted together, the tips finding your clit. 

You didn’t know which of them was rubbing you or if they both were—and you didn’t care. You just felt the burst of pleasure bloom from between your thighs and spread in a warm wave through your body. Your head fell back on Steve’s shoulder as you rocked between their firm, muscular bodies, their cocks filling you up so much you felt like they were imprinting themselves on your soul.

Though it was difficult with how tired you were, you kept your eyes cracked open, staring at Bucky and Steve, a part of you wishing they’d kiss again—knowing they both wanted to. But instead, they kept exchanging heated glances, their gazes darting from you to each other.

Still, their hands curled together against your pussy as they fucked you and got you off together. You squeezed their hands in your own and they smiled, first at each other, then at you. You could feel something building between the three of you. Not just your pleasure, but something deeper, a bond that you knew was going to be the foundation of your new life together.

Spurred by Bucky and Steve’s cocks and their fingers on your clit, your release rolled over you like the crashing of a thunderstorm, shaking you to your core. The tightening of your body pushed both men over the edge at the same time, and they grunted and groaned their pleasure as the three of you rode out your releases together.

That time, when you collapsed to the bed, you were all finally fully sated. 

Soft words and praises were exchanged as the three of you cleaned up in the bathroom, Bucky and Steve taking turns washing you in the shower before they scrubbed off themselves. 

When you were towel dried and clad in one of Bucky’s t-shirts, Steve left the suit to grab his things from the room he’d also booked in the hotel. You’d grumbled at that, not wanting him to leave even for a moment, but Bucky distracted you with a kiss while Steve ducked out.

While Steve was gone, Bucky used the opportunity to wrap you up in his arms and ask if you were ok with everything that had happened. 

“Bucky,” you murmured, rolling onto your back on the bed, pulling him with you so his head lay on your chest and your legs tangled together. “I’m more than ok—everything we did tonight feels right. Didn’t it?” 

Bucky hummed in thought as you raked your nails through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. “Yeah, it did,” he admitted after a moment. You could feel his smile through the cotton of your shirt a moment before he lifted up, his mouth finding yours in a slow, sweet kiss. 

When he moved back to lay on your chest, he squeezed you tight, murmuring his love for you into your sternum, right above your beating heart. You carded your fingers through his hair, trailing them over his bare shoulders since he’d only put on a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in.

By the time Steve returned, you and Bucky were half asleep, laying entwined in the bed that was more than big enough for the three of you. Still, Steve paused at the edge of the bed, wearing his own pair of boxer briefs, and looked at the two of you as if unsure whether he should join you.

“Room for one more?” Steve asked, and you could hear the hesitance in his voice. 

A soft smile curved the corners of your mouth and you took a second to look at Steve. He was just as handsome in the dim light of the hotel suite as he’d been in the bright sunshine on Hollywood Boulevard, but you felt more than just excitement seeing him. 

You may not have loved him—yet—but you knew you could love Steve just as much as you loved Bucky. And you suspected Bucky’s feelings for his best friend were well on their way there already. 

Steve wasn’t just some Hollywood heartthrob to you anymore, or even just your boyfriend’s best friend. He was yours, and Bucky’s, just like you and Bucky were his.

Raising your arm to gesture Steve into bed, a giggle slipped from your lips when you realized you and Bucky had reached for him at the same time. 

“There’s plenty of room for one more, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled, beckoning his best friend to get into bed. 

“Yeah, Stevie, come cuddle,” you said, laughter making your voice lighter. 

Steve shot you both one of his devastatingly charming smiles and then he was crawling into the bed and sliding beneath the covers. He curled into your side, laying his head beside yours on the pillow and the three of you finally settled down. 

Before sleep pulled you under, you felt Steve and Bucky lace their fingers together against your hip, their hands holding onto each other as they both held onto you. With a happy smile on your face, you fell asleep, looking forward to starting the new day with Bucky and Steve. 

There wasn’t just room for one more in the bed—there was room for one more in your life with Bucky, and you were so happy to have Steve join you both.