#howdoyousleep

[howdoyousleep3]

Pairing: Daddy Steve/Baby Bucky Rating: E (Explicit) Word Count: 4.4K Tags: Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship, Drunk Sex, Daddy Kink, Light Dom/Sub Relationship, Brat Taming, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent), Dirty Talk, No Prep (there is an obscene amount of lube though lol), Spanking, Anal Sex, Manhandling, Feminization, Rough Sex, Light Exhibitionism, Light Subspace, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Spitting, Coming on Face, Ruined Orgasm A/N: It's about time. The current state of my life and my mental health called for a mean and selfish Daddy Steve who doesn't give a fuck. In this fic, these two rely on their established relationship and deep understanding of one another. Daddy Steve has never talked or acted like this. Bucky loves it even if he is frightened by the thrill of it. I hope you trust them and love it too. ❤️

Read here on Ao3

“Listen, Buck— I’m going out to dinner with my friends and that’s that.” 

Bucky isn’t used to being told no. 

“I don’t know what else to tell you. You’re just going to have to deal with it, baby. I’ll be home later tonight.” 

Bucky doesn’t react well to being told no. 

“I love you,” Steve had told him to obviously end the conversation, something akin to annoyance evident in his tone, digging into and burning at Bucky’s skin. Being told no feels like rejection, feels like betrayal, feels like nothing his Daddy should be forcing him to feel. 

So, Bucky hung up without another word, without a proper response. 

Without giving Daddy his “I love you”. 

If Steve wants to be mean, Bucky can be mean too. He can be mean even through the tears and through the sting of rejection and through his admittedly unnecessary pouting. So, he ignores Steve’s calls, ignores his texts, ignores his warnings. 

Buck…

Don’t do this. You know this won’t end well. 

Pick up the phone, Bucky. 

He goes about his night alone at home, ignoring Steve’s attempts at communicating, at apologizing, at getting back onto Bucky’s good side. He orders takeout and ignores the immediate urge he’s met with to order Steve’s meal of choice as well; he doesn't deserve it. He drinks half a bottle of red wine as he scrolls through Instagram, watches reruns of Real Housewives of New Jersey, and waits for his food to be delivered. 

By the time he’s done with his meal, he’s finished off the bottle of wine and ignored three more of Steve’s texts and two more calls. 

Why are you being such a brat? 

Pick up the damn phone.

You’re fixing to piss me off, Buck.

Daddy’s been drinking. 

Bucky decides to shower. He takes a long, hot, luxurious shower. He shampoos his hair twice, uses his expensive body wash that smells like pumpkin cinnamon rolls. He drenches himself in the matching body oil once he’s done showering, takes the time to put on his best skincare, his favorite oil for his hair. 

He feels like he’s floating on a cloud as he falls into bed naked and wraps himself up in their flannel sheets and heavy duvet. He doesn’t even bother going in search of his phone; he has no plans to respond to whatever Steve sends him anyway. 

Steve can kiss his ass.

Bucky is pulled slowly from his sleep. 

It isn’t in an instant or a sharp awakening; it feels like he’s being pulled slowly through syrup from his dream-riddled sleep by something curious. 

Bucky furrows his brow. Is that—?

It’s a noise, a consistent noise. 

A familiar, wet noise that immediately sets Bucky on fire from the inside out. 

The recognition of that noise forces his body and mind into a state of almost panicked awakeness then. A sharp wave of premature arousal wracks his body, something of a Pavlovian response, and it sends his heart pounding against his ribs. He opens his eyes and blinks a few times in order to help adjust to the darkness of the room, the lights from the city just outside their windows helping to keep the room not fully encased in darkness.

Once his eyes adjust, he finds the source of the sound immediately. 

He was right.

Steve stands within reach of Bucky’s bedside, close enough to touch, his cock pulled through the zipper of his pants and held in his hand. 

Fisting it.

He doesn’t even say anything when he locks eyes with Bucky, his mouth slightly dropped open and a sharp gleam in his eyes just past his glasses that leaves Bucky on edge, curious and hesitant and hot. He tries hard not to let his eyes drop back down to the sight of Steve’s impressive cock, digs his fingers into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself, but it’s useless. It’s always useless. 

He loves his Daddy’s cock. 

Bucky doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. He watches on as Steve reaches for an open bottle of lube he must have pulled out of Bucky’s bedside table, watches on as he squirts some messily into his palm before reaching for his cock again. He tosses the bottle onto the bed carelessly. 

Something deep, deep within Bucky begins to grow restless. 

“Still ain’t got nothin’ to say to your Daddy?” 

Steve’s voice cuts through the air and the tension like a hot knife through butter. Bucky feels the bass of it in his toes, the bite of Steve’s growl curling around his neck. 

He curses himself for once again not thinking his tantrums through to the end, for thinking he ever stood a chance against his Daddy. 

“Yeah, forgot how much of a fuckin’ punk you can be when you don’t get your way.” 

Oh.

That’s how it’s going to be? 

The thrill of uncharted territory skirts up Bucky’s spine, the nervousness of the same curling into a ball in his belly. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t spoil me so much then,” Bucky weakly tries, but Steve only scoffs and strokes his cock harder, the girth of him making Bucky’s mouth traitorously water. 

“I’m not responsible for your fuckin attitude, Buck,” Steve bites out in a tone Bucky has only heard a few times before. It nearly forces tears to spring to his eyes, nearly pulls a whimper from the back of his throat. It also makes his balls begin to ache. 

He chooses not to say anything in response, but Steve fills the silence after a minute or two. 

“Thought about comin’ home to just blow my load all over your pretty face while you slept before crawling into bed, but…don’t know. Think I want you to be awake when I take out my anger on your pretty body.” 

Jesus. 

“Andy said I should do it, mark you up all over your face, maybe smack you around a little. But James said I need to take it out on your ass. And I gotta say…I’m keen on taking it out on your ass.” 

Bucky’s head spins. He grows dizzy from where he lays, his jaw going slack as that dizziness morphs into fuzz, into familiar heaviness. The erotic image of Steve sitting amongst his friends and discussing Bucky’s punishment pulls his hips into the bed beneath him, forcing his next few breaths to grate against the front of his throat. His dick fills out, chubbs up, fattens between his legs and in the sheets. 

Steve talking about him, about something so sexual, seeking advice from his friends on how to handle his baby— it’s all far too much to process at once.

The added layer of them all drinking, of knowing what Steve gets like when he has amber liquid slipping through his system, intensifies Bucky’s reaction. 

He’s certain Steve was spewing filth, was sharing intimate details of their relationship. He was surely discussing Bucky, what he likes and dislikes, how he reacts to Daddy’s decisions and hand. 

Fuck, Bucky shouldn’t find it so hot, but he’s damn near drooling for it. 

“Yeah, that’s right— it was a group decision. Had to tell ‘em all how bad you were bein’, had to explain why I was so fuckin’ fired up when I got there. You don’t even want to know the fucked up shit Levinson and Walker said I should force you to do. So, we decided on your ass, that your ass deserves the punishment.” 

Bucky will never be able to look Steve’s friends in the eyes again. Or maybe he will, but he’ll surely pop a boner the moment he does.

Steve’s groan is somehow thunderous yet low, long and drawn out, as he resumes stroking his cock, as he reaches into his pants and pulls his balls out. Bucky barely has time to whine at the sight before Steve is speaking again.

“But that works out ‘cause if I’m making you fuckin’ take it, I’m gonna be selfish about it. Yeah sure, I’m your Daddy and I’m supposed to teach you a lesson and make you aware of the consequences of your actions, blah blah blah—” 

Bucky’s not once heard Steve talk like this.

“— but not everything has to be a fuckin’ lesson. Sometimes I just wanna…just wanna make it hurt, lay you out a little bit. Don’t wanna make your punishment about you; I want it to be about me.” 

Bucky thinks for a moment that he has no footing, has nothing to grasp at to ground himself in the slightest. But Steve is his safety, is his other half; he’s safe here. He’s safe with Steve and he doesn’t need to question that. And because of that, because of the foundation of trust and love they share, Bucky comes to the decision that this? 

This is hot. 

It’s hot as fuck.

“Roll over,” Steve sharply and suddenly demands. “I wanna see that boy pussy I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking all night.”

Bucky whimpers, his legs spreading on instinct, his next few breaths shaking loose from his lungs. His noises sound almost like a hiccup, like a set of sobs, and he’s rising up onto his knees before he can think twice about it. 

Where he’d normally receive a noise of praise or appreciation, he instead receives a bark of, “Turn the fuck around, show it to me the way I deserve.” 

Bucky scrambles. At least he feels as if he’s scrambling, as if he’s moving quickly and awkwardly, but if the thickness of his thoughts and the difficulty of thinking a second ahead is any indication, he probably looks as if he’s lazily moving through molasses. 

Bucky still doesn’t get the noise or words of praise he’s used to when he’s finally turned around, when he’s got his back in a deep arch and his cheek pressed against the sheets as he faces away from Steve. He instead soaks in the noises of the sound of Steve beating himself off, the slick noise of his fist as he drags it up and down his— 

“You’ve been a little bitch tonight. The guys made me promise them I wouldn’t give into you the moment I saw your pretty hole, but fuck me— that’s a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” 

Bucky does moan this time, loud and ragged with tight emotion. His dick hangs heavy between his legs, achy from the suddenness and surprise of his arousal, and his hole clenches easily and involuntarily at the compliment. 

“Fuck, look how small it is, look how little that fuckin’ hole is. It’s a miracle I can fit my dick in there, my big fuckin’ dick. Your Daddy’s got a big dick, doesn’t he?” Goddamn. Bucky wants to shuffle around on his knees so he can choke on his Daddy’s big dick. He wants it in his mouth, on his tongue, in his throat. He wants—

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” Steve damn near growls, and the sharp sting of a slap on the meat of his ass shocks Bucky’s answer from him. 

“D-Daddy’s got a big dick.” 

“Yeah, that’s right— say it again. Tell me again.”

Bucky tucks his arms under his chest, spreads his legs even more, offering himself up. 

“Daddy’s dick is so big.” 

Steve chuckles into his next groan. “Fuck, I love hearin’ that.”

He listens as Steve moves next, hears him take a few steps, hears him shuffle around before Bucky then feels a cold glob of liquid hit his ass cheek. He gasps, jumps even, but Steve just moans and spreads the liquid across Bucky’s ass with his hand. 

Bucky doesn’t even have time to ask questions or think of how messy or obscene smearing his ass in lube is when Steve’s hands are on him like this. It’s as if Bucky isn’t there as a person, as if Steve is alone in this room with his ass, as if he were a toy. Daddy’s hand rubs the lube into the cheeks of his ass carelessly, smearing it around and covering him in the slippery liquid simply for the selfish enjoyment of seeing Bucky’s ass oiled up. 

So much for his luxurious, self care shower. 

Bucky’s head is so far in the clouds that he barely registers more of it being squirt onto his ass, the feeling of Steve’s hands rubbing and moving almost hypnotizing, but then Steve is rubbing it over his hole, circling it with his fingers and thumb, pressing his thumb into his hole as he moans. 

Bucky squeals.

These touches are indicative of Steve meaning what he said about this punishment being for him; these are selfish touches. 

The slap of Daddy’s big cock right over his soaked pussy makes him whine. But the feel of Steve then resting his cock between Bucky’s cheeks, of pushing his hips forward in a rhythmic motion draws his whine out further. 

“I’m gonna be mean about it because it’s what you deserve. What I deserve. M’gonna fuck this little pussy the way I want to, for me— don’t give a shit about you right now. You wanna come? Fine. But this ain’t about you.” 

Steve pulls his hips back in order for his hand to come down over Bucky’s wet hole hard, just the once and then three more swift times, spanking it and forcing another squeal out of Bucky’s mouth. 

“Fuck…!”

He’s barely able to jump away from the sting, barely able to feel the burn of such a harsh touch, before Steve is stepping close again and pressing the fat tip of his cock back against Bucky’s soaked hole. 

“You better bear down on it, baby— didn’t spend my sweet time training this pussy for nothin’.” 

Bucky’s body and mind come together for a moment of panic, mesh in an effort to preserve what they perceive to be Bucky’s safety that is in danger. It’s too fast, too quick; it’s not what Bucky’s used to. He gasps as he shrinks away from Steve’s touch, his thoughts getting the best of him and— 

Steve’s strong hand on his nape is like a warm blanket, like an off switch, even when it’s a touch that makes it difficult to breathe. 

“None’a that now. Bear down, here we go…”

Claiming. 

Breeding. 

Steve’s always shown mercy, is in tune with Bucky’s mind and body, holds Bucky as a priority in life and in the bedroom; that is what Bucky is used to. But that Steve is nowhere to be found in their bedroom shrouded in darkness tonight. That Steve has been pushed past the brink of the vast amount of patience he holds, has been filled with amber liquid that takes away his softness. He’s nowhere to be found as he spears Bucky open on his cock, as he uses his big hands to press into the deep arch of Bucky’s back and use it as leverage to fuck into him faster, harder. 

Bucky tells himself it’s a lot, that it’s overwhelming, but that it doesn't hurt. He’s used to sex; they have sex frequently. His body doesn’t need to be warmed up to taking Steve when he takes Steve on the regular. But rarely does he take Steve’s cock this fast, this quick, this harsh. His stream of noise is constant, is veering on feral in nature, and he all but thrashes underneath Steve’s hands and on his cock in response to being split open. 

“This is my fuckin’ pussy,” Steve grounds out between what sounds to be gritted teeth, and Bucky can’t tell if it’s a reminder for Bucky or filth for himself. 

Bucky can’t breathe. He chokes on his breaths, on his noises that won’t stop pouring out, his breaths caged up in his chest. Steve has his waist in a brutal grip, pressing his body further into the mattress, and with Bucky’s arms trapped under his chest it makes it cages his breaths up further. 

He wills himself to breathe, begs himself to focus and to open up his willing body to his Daddy. It’s not difficult for him to want this, even as they tread new waters together, but he is quick to come to peace with his body taking the brunt of this…whatever type of punishment this is. 

The only moment of mercy Bucky is shown is when Steve’s hips meet the curve of Bucky’s ass, and even then Steve only stills long enough to press and grind his cock impossibly deeper into Bucky. It’s as if he wishes to crawl inside of Bucky with a growl, as if Bucky’s body taking the entirety of his cock isn’t enough and he needs more than Bucky can give him.

Bucky feels drool on his chin. 

His blinks are slow and lagging, or maybe that’s his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“God fucking damnit,” Steve groans, his tone showing evidence of both relief and frustration, the smack he gives Bucky’s ass driving that frustration home. He jerks his hips back, pulls out of Bucky halfway before filling him up to the brim again. The lewd, wet noises of his pussy makes his cheeks burn in embarrassment, makes him moan at the easy slide and overwhelming sensation of stretch.

Bucky doesn’t know why he pretends to be a brat. A few harsh words and a smack on his ass and here he is face down, ass up for his Daddy. 

Steve pulls his hips back again, is quick to slide them back home, beginning to fuck Bucky in earnest. 

Bucky’s head spins. 

“Pretty fuckin’ pussy for a pretty fuckin’ boy,” Steve tells him in a rumble, rubbing his thumb around Bucky’s stretched and wet rim. 

On the other hand, maybe he should be a brat more often. 

Steve fucks him without mercy. 

Bucky is used to mercy.

He’s used to eye contact and pauses and little, “You good, baby”s. He’s not used to feeling the entirety of Steve’s strength pressed into his body, not used to feeling bruises form in the moment. He’s not used to feeling like Daddy is simply using him for his hole, for somewhere wet and warm to stick his dick and fuck into. 

This is different. 

This feels so good even if it is a lot. 

It has his emotions twisted up in his stomach. 

The way his body rocks forward with every brutal thrust, the force of the stretch of his pussy, the feeling of spreading his legs and being bent over for his Daddy; he’s almost embarrassed he can very realistically come from this kind of treatment. 

He doesn’t realize he’s saying things until Steve is laughing, groaning, the noise of it swirling around Bucky’s empty brain like a marble. 

“Oh sugar,” he moans long and slow, his hands coming down to cup Bucky’s ass as he fucks it, spreading it wide. “You got nothin’ to apologize for— none of that fuckin’ matters now that I’m inside’a you.”

Was he apologizing? He can hear himself now, the drawn-out, almost mournful noises he’s making as spit pools into the sheets underneath him. It’s all nonsense; he can tell that even though his brain is having a hard time processing his own words. 

“Stretch me out, Daddy,” he hears himself whine. “I’m sorry— M’so sorry! Make it better, Daddy.” 

Steve only fucks into him harder, the slick smack of his groin and his heavy sac slapping against Bucky’s lube-covered ass adding to the cacophony of noises swirling around the room and muddying up his brain. 

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“Daddy…” 

“Of course I fucking am. Who’s your Daddy?” 

“You are…you’re my Daddy.” 

Bucky feels a hand wrap roughly around his nape. His face is shoved further into the mattress. The force of the touch and the angle of his body makes him sob.

“Yeah? And whose pussy is this? Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” 

Bucky hiccups, sputters.  

“Daddy’s! S’Daddy’s!” 

His balls begin to tighten then, his groin stirring, the moment his hole relaxes and embraces the obscene stretch of Steve’s cock in full. Steve has always told him he has a sensitive sweet spot, a sensitive pussy, and this example is his Daddy’s checkmate. 

He bucks against Steve’s harsh touch and thrusts when he feels his orgasm rapidly build and stir. 

“M’gonna come, m’gonna…come,” he hears himself slur, a pitiful warning that he’s almost certain Steve can’t hear. 

“I don’t give a shit.” 

Oh.

He was wrong.

Bucky says the only thing that makes sense to him in this moment— 

“Come in my pussy, Daddy.” 

Steve roars, shoving at Bucky’s nape before letting go and reaching for his hair, all without pausing his thrusts. 

“Don’t you fucking do that. You motherfucker. Don’t do that, Buck.”

His orgasm must possess him, push him into doing things Daddy said not to do, because he’s immediately defying his Daddy and pouting out, “Come in my pussy, Daddy. Fill my pussy up,” just as his first spurt of come hits the sheets. 

It’s the only moment of his orgasm he is allowed to enjoy. 

He’s still coming, dick continuing to shoot off and body continuing to ride the waves of a shattering orgasm, when Steve pulls out of Bucky’s body and drags him to the floor by his neck. 

He hits the carpet with a thud and a shout, knees knocking and hands flying out to catch himself. He whines, cries, at losing such a memorable orgasm, at being pulled out of the experience of such, and tucks his chin to watch himself experience the end of his climax between his legs. 

“Open your fucking mouth. Look up at me.”

Even with his ruined orgasm, he listens easily. He’s slow to do so. He turns his head up to do his best to look up at his Daddy, but the tears in his eyes make it impossible to see Steve. 

He can see his fist though, see his cock as he uses his fist to fuck himself as they nearly come full circle for the night.

“You don’t let me come on your pretty face enough,” Steve accuses, voice hot and low, labored and barely audible over the ringing in Bucky’s ears and the sound of Steve aggressively jerking off above him. 

Bucky doesn’t respond, can’t bring forth any words in his brain. He sits there with his tongue out, tears in his eyes, hips doing what they can to rock from the aftershocks of his shattering yet unenjoyable orgasm. 

Steve groans and the noise hits Bucky right in the balls. He feels the result of it in his bloodstream, in his being, a noise that, at its core, is centered around Bucky being good. It’s gluttonous and selfish and sexy and Bucky could weep hearing it. 

He thinks he is weeping at this point.  

When he opens his eyes again, Steve is coming on his tongue. 

And then his cheek.

And then over his other cheek, onto his forehead. 

All Bucky can do is sob and moan, an odd combination that makes it sound like he’s begging for his life while also in heat. 

“Fuck, that’s good. Fuck yeah, look at’chu. Look at my fuckin’ baby. My baby…” 

Steve’s come feels as if it scalds his skin, the warmth of it both a shock and a comfort to him. Bucky lets it slide from his tongue, down his chin, has to close one eye in order to avoid a painful mess. 

He does nothing to fight against the urge to pout when Steve feeds him the last bit of come from the swollen tip of his cock, letting it fall onto his bottom lip. Steve’s fingers immediately follow it, two of them reaching forward to rub the mess into his lip, then across his chin. Bucky watches from the floor as Steve’s chest heaves up and down underneath his crisp dress shirt, his thick fingers pressing and smearing his warm come into Bucky’s skin.

Bucky chases after his Daddy’s fingers like a starving animal, gasping and groaning, tongue lapping up whatever Steve has to offer. 

Does he have no pride? 

Daddy answers that question with two fingers shoved in his mouth, stroking the back of his tongue so harshly Bucky’s left with no choice but to gag loudly. 

He still moans.

Steve lets out a long, happy noise that sounds like a sigh but feels like another groan in Bucky’s balls. It’s akin to the noise he lets out when he stands to stretch as the halftime show begins during the football games he watches on Sundays, deep and satisfied. He follows the noise up with a tight grip on Bucky’s jaw from the inside of his mouth, a hold on his teeth as he pulls Bucky further towards him. 

Where Bucky expects a kiss, he instead gets no warning of Steve spitting down between his open lips.

“Fuck yeah…”

He uses his fingers to spread that around as well, allowing for the combination of his come, his spit, and Bucky’s spit slip over Bucky’s bottom lip and slip down his neck before letting Bucky go with a bit of a shove. 

Bucky’s not used to this. 

Bucky thinks he’s fallen in love with Steve all over again.

His spent and heavy cock still hangs from the open zipper of his pants, framed by thighs that Bucky swears are the size of tree trunks from down here, when Steve lets out one last, resigned groan. 

“That was exactly what I fuckin’ needed,” he casually tells Bucky with more than a tap on his cheek. He turns on his heel and begins to walk away from Bucky and towards their shared bathroom. 

Bucky can barely follow him with his eyes, can barely hold his head up.

Steve’s sharp whistle rings in his ears. 

“C’mon, sugar— let’s see if you can wring another one outta me,” he hollers from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at Bucky. Steve almost sounds like himself again, as if he hadn’t just hate fucked Bucky to the brink of psychosis. Bucky thinks he hears the shower.

Maybe that was all Steve needed to get out of his system. 

Bucky begins to maneuver himself to stand, ass already sore and come still covering his face, when Steve snaps from the door of their bathroom. 

“Nuh-uh— you crawl to your Daddy, kid.” 

Maybe not.

[kakamccartneystan]

I'm still amazed by John Lennon's duality on the album Imagine. Recording Imagine and How do you sleep on the same album is very controversial. Like, "Imagine everyone living life in peace" except you, Paul McCartney, pest from hell! You should have died, you fake. You just made some good music and think you're the best, just because it's beautiful and there's a lot of assholes behind you. You're going to fall apart without me." One of two things: either he was bipolar or he was hypocritical as hell.

[daletrabr]

Confira a letra da música “How Do You Sleep?” de Sam Smith

[daletraesp]

Letra de la canción “How Do You Sleep?” de Sam Smith

[daletrafra]

Découvrez les paroles de la chanson “How Do You Sleep?” de Sam Smith

[daletraita]

Testo della canzone “How Do You Sleep?” di John Lennon

[howdoyousleep3]

I’ve done it. 🙈

Big steps are being made and I’m incredibly excited about this new part of my life. Because you are the reason I have the courage and confidence to move out of fandom, I’d be honored if you’d follow along with my journey.

I’m most active on Instagram, but a follow to any social media platform would be a gift.

You’re always on my mind and I am forever grateful for the support you’ve given me during my time in fandom. While I am moving on, I am also wrapping up my last Stucky fic that I’ll continue to post until it is complete. And while I am moving away from fandom, many of the ideas I have and the novella I am currently working on may sound very familiar to you…

Lub you always and forever. 🩷

Hello! ☺️ My name is Elizabeth Ray and I am a Queer Romance author who specializes in writing erotic romance stories that more than likely include a Daddy. I am a Pisces, an iced coffee devotee, and a plant lover. When I'm not writing and daydreaming about all-consuming, borderline toxic love stories, I spend my time chasing after my twin toddlers.

I am currently hard at work on my first novella that may sound familiar to you if you've followed me over from fandom...😏 Lots of juicy details to come. 🫶🏻

Thank you for being here. ❤️

⭐️ support me on...| instagram | tiktok | pinterest | ⭐️

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Wait do you know of any fics where Steve is a virgin??? Currently obsessed with both young virgin Steve and post serum virgin Steve I need more stuff to read about him 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Not calling you out, you're totally, perfectly fine, kinks are kinks and I don't give a fuck about the existance of virginity kink--I can see the appeal myself, even if it's typically not something I'm interested in--but I do feel personally compelled to mention at the head of this: virginity doesn't fucking matter. It's constructed. It doesn't mean anything. Do what the fuck you want with your body in whatever capacity that means to you from not fucking until marriage or fucking all the time or anywhere between.

Well, as a matter of fact, I do 👀 The fic I'm currently working on includes post-serum virigin Steve, so...

"Money Magic"

But, also, have these following fics. I haven't read all of them, but from my understanding, they're all good!

"Blooming Under the Dappled Light" by thiccbuckybarnes

*this fic technically is tagged as virgin Bucky, but thicc writes such good fics, I can't leave them off this list!

"Take You With Me" by howdoyousleep, the1918

"and when I walk away (you take off runnin’ and come right after me)" by orphan_account

"Sweeter than Sugar" by SnowWriter

"My Lord" by OhCaptainMyCaptain

"You Can Be My First Time" by Lavenderkittykat

Unfortunately, those are all the ones I know of off the top of my head. Hopefully, you enjoy them, though!

[musette22]

Have you read any good fics based on Chris and Sebs movies/tv shows besides marvel?

Hmmm, you mean like, fics for ships of other characters they've played? I did do a post here at some point with lots of links to gifsets etc. here on tumblr for all sorts of Chris characters x Sebastian character ships, but fic-wise, I think it's a little trickier... Here are a couple that I could think of off the top of my head!

Knifewood (Ransom Drysdale x Charles Blackwood:

we have always lived with our knives out by buvkissteves

Called to No Account for His Crimes by Annaelle 

Andy Barber x Lance Tucker

no need to ask me by howdoyousleep

Andy Barber x TJ Hammond

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt by wintersoldier1989

Frank Adler x TJ Hammond

like a vision from the old west wind by its_tortle

cogito, ergo fuck by djchika

... and I'm sure there are more that I don't remember or just don't know about, so if anyone else wants to add some recs to this, please be my guest! Also anon, if this wasn't what you meant, please let me know! <3

[howdoyousleep3]

Prompt: Sex with a Stranger

Pairing: Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky Barnes/Captain America Steve Rogers) Word Count: ~6K Tags: shrunkyclunks, strangers to lovers, awkward flirting, stranger sex, public sex, car sex, blow jobs, anal sex, unprotected sex, clothed sex, porn with little plot, dirty talk, come as lube, size kink, feminization, multiple orgasms, coming untouched, Author's Note: I was truly planning on throwing my whole ass into Kinktober, but life totally and completely dragged me down lol. Hopefully I can contribute more because I have all the plans to, but I don't want to jinx myself. For now, here is a prompt I've been working on for years that hopped in my inbox a few years ago. This is for you, nonnie. 😉 Read here on Ao3

“I think this might end up being one of the greatest moments of my life, Cap…”

It was just supposed to be coffee. 

It was a simple and innocent enough request on Tony’s part, a cheerful inquiry about how Steve’s morning was going, how productive his run through the city at dawn was, which led to an invite for coffee. And coffee sounded damn good, as did the time spent away from the Tower, spent away from himself. 

Tony offered to drive, and although Steve barely fit into the passenger seat of the vehicle Tony chose to take— “They didn’t build this thing with your shoulder span in mind, buddy…”—  it seemed like a lovely way to spend an hour of his morning. 

But then Tony started talking about bikinis and broads and Steve had to stop and clarify—

“You asked me to go get coffee with you, Tony. Not...not a place with nudity or—” 

“Oh, my dearest Steven. You’re about to have the best coffee of your too-long life.” 

Steve goes through what he knows, filters through the limited 21st Century knowledge he carries and builds upon each day. 

He’s been to a few local places, ones that are open late at night that he has popped into when sleep doesn’t claim him. He is aware that Starbucks is incredibly popular. He’ll never get the sizing correct and has been told it is somehow both the best and the worst, but he thinks they have pretty decent coffee. Then again, he’s from a time where coffee’s intended purpose was to stimulate you enough to keep you awake for long working hours. 

Coffee is viewed very differently now.

Steve is about to tell Tony to turn around, to pull over and let him walk home because he really isn’t in the mood for any shenanigans, when Steve sees the sign— 

Java Juggs.

And then another sign of—

Bikini Baristas.

“Tony…” Steve warns, voice stern but it’s no match for Tony’s charming smile, his feigned innocence with a light, “Yes, Steve?” 

“Surely you are not taking me to a coffee shop where the women serving patrons their coffee are dressed in only their bikinis.” 

Tony nods his head, continues driving and follows the arrows painted onto the pavement of the parking lot that guide cars in the direction they should be driving, surely necessary only here given the...distractions. 

“Right, of course. Why would I do that?” Tony asks, tone serious, but when Steve takes one look out towards the incredibly small, standalone building merely the size of a shed, he has his answer. 

“Goddamnit, Tony.”

The women are indeed clad in bikinis. Steve has absolutely no idea how this business is legal, but he’s found out a lot of shit about the 21st Century is unexplainable and this must be one of those things. Steve is aware that a normal drive-thru window is small, coming up to most people’s chests, mid-torso, but these windows are much larger, dropping easily down to hip level. 

That has to be because of the baristas and their attire. 

There are only three baristas in the establishment that Steve can make note of. As they wait for the car in front of them to receive their coffee, Steve finds himself respectfully managing to take their appearance in while also not gawking. He will admit— these women have every reason to show their bodies off in the way they are choosing. They’re voluptuous and curvy, of varying shapes, two choosing to indeed wear a bikini. 

The redhead has chosen a white ensemble, complete with a bikini and a wrap of sorts around her lower half that makes it look more like a skirt, one that hugs her hips. The curvier brunette opted for a black bikini, also simple, and not a skirt per se, but Steve assumes it gets the job done. It looks like fishnets, hugs her lower half, stops right below the curve of her bottom. Steve can’t see the third barista but he can only assume she is dressed in the same kind of attire. 

“This is the best place in the city to come and get coffee,” Tony explains, and Steve is quick to furrow his brow. 

“Really?”

Tony scoffs. “Absolutely not. Come on, Cap.” 

Steve should just get out of the car and start walking home. 

“It isn’t terrible but, come on— it’s allowed to be shit. Look at ‘em!” 

Steve reaches for the door handle as Tony rolls the car forward, approaching the window, and that’s when he sees the third barista. 

Oh.

“Well look what the cat dragged in. Girls, your fave— Tony’s here.” 

“Hello to you too, Buckaroo. How are my favorite baristas doing, hmm?” 

Oh God.

Buckaroo is gorgeous. 

Since coming back to this life, Steve has not once been struck by someone’s beauty so suddenly as he is with the man at the window. 

It hits him in the very center of his being, feels like every inch of his skin is electrified where he sits cramped in this car. The man’s beauty punches him right in the dick, and he almost makes a noise, one Tony would surely hear given the compactness of this goddamn car.  He gets so hard so fast it knocks the air out of his chest but this is something more, something deeper.  

Where Steve was respectful with his eyes towards the two female baristas, he is anything but as he drinks in this other beauty. 

This man is young, his chocolate hair pulled up into an artful bun, the skin of his neck, of his entire body, making Steve need to damn near sink his teeth into his own fist to calm down. Steve just knows he’s soft, knows his skin has to be the most tender thing to press his fingertips into. And that thought makes him ache to touch this man. 

How inappropriate of him to have these filthy thoughts about a stranger.

But Steve can’t help it, damn him. 

He too is wearing a bikini, but his is crocheted into the pattern of two small, crimson stars that cover his nipples and are brought together by mere strings. His jean shorts are tiny, sit on his full hips low enough that the matching strings of the bottoms of the bikini sit high up on his hips. 

Steve finds himself wanting to bury both of his hands down the back of those shorts, to get two handfuls of what’s sure to be a ripe peach of an ass. The kid has to have an ass that matches the rest of him, one that Steve imagines himself sinking his teeth into even though he’s not once done that to anyone. 

Steve’s lewd and feral reaction brings a flush to his cheeks. He digs his fingers into the denim of his jeans. Is he sweating?

The stranger seems to be tall from where Steve is looking up and over at him, lithe and graceful and supple, and when he ducks his head, bends and rests his elbows on the windowsill, he knocks Steve out with one curl of his plush lips and a smack of his bubblegum.

“Who’d you bring along with you, Tony?” 

Steve feels his flush creep down his neck, one that is pronounced and intense. He adjusts where he sits, wiggles even. 

“Oh, right of course. This here is Steve! Told him I’d show him where to get the best cup of coffee in the city. Steve, Bucky. Bucky, Steve.”

“Oh yeah? Mr. Captain America himself? And you brought him here?” Bucky teases with a wink tossed easily in Steve’s direction before he purrs, “Heya, Stevie.” 

Steve is in love. 

He’s so in love he trips over his words, feels his blush darken impossible further and he makes an unexplainable gesture with his hand that he thinks will pass as a wave. He isn’t even sure if the words he uses are English, are ones Bucky can understand, but whatever he ends up saying makes Bucky giggle, face lighting up in a way that narrows all of Steve’s focus down to the way Bucky’s nose crinkles up cutely as he does so. 

Steve is really in love. 

“You want your regular, Tony?” one of the women within the stand asks with a holler and Tony nods, turning his curious gaze away from Steve to confirm his order. 

“Yeah, sweetheart— ten shots of espresso and then your Rainbow Unicorn blended drink.” 

Jesus. Steve doesn’t have enough time to be horrified before Bucky is speaking to him.

“What’ll you have, Mr. Captain?” Bucky asks, and Steve didn’t know it was possible for someone’s voice to sound like sex. In another life, one where Tony wasn’t mere inches from him and one where he had more instances of human interaction since coming out of the ice, he’d have a flirtatious response, one that would make it crystal clear for Bucky the direction of Steve’s thoughts. 

“I’ll uhh...do you guys have...have lattes?” is what he stumbles through instead. Tony immediately giggles, scoffs, but Bucky just smiles at Steve sweetly. 

“Yeah, big guy. We’ve got lattes. You want something sweet in that?” 

You. 

One word, just one word, that’s all he needs to say. Steve nods. 

“I’ll uhh...I’ll let you decide.” 

So close.

But Bucky hums, bites his lip, doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Too bad I can’t put a little bit’a me in your cup, huh?”  

Oh Christ.

Steve gulps, cheeks immediately flaring red, but he’s tired of fumbling over himself and his words, his wants. He ducks his head and looks right back at Bucky, mustering up just enough confidence to give him a solid once over before replying, “Yeah, that’s too bad.” 

Steve chooses to ignore Tony’s squawk and instead focuses on the way Bucky grins, the way Steve swears he sees Bucky’s cheeks glow pink. His stomach twists up pleasantly, butterflies joining in alongside the curl of heat. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt such validation before, especially that in the form of flirting. 

He floats through the rest of their interaction, eyes tracking Bucky as much as he can. He wishes to burn the various sexy images of Bucky into his brain, wants to pull them up later when he has time to himself with his fist and his cock. He doesn’t feel like as much as a pervert as he did minutes before, not with the way Bucky’s eyes meet his at every turn, a constant onslaught of further validation. 

He isn’t sure why he doesn’t ask for Bucky’s number before they drive off. He later blames it on the haze and heaviness of such an intense interaction, how he felt like he was wading through molasses in his mind as he watched Bucky wink at him as they drove away, still trying to memorize anything and everything he could about the brunette. 

He barely heard Tony’s chiding, his boisterous words that surely consisted of shit-talking him into the ground for his embarrassing behavior. He had no energy to dish it back, to stand up for himself in any way, especially when Tony mentions Bucky usually works tomorrow’s morning shift as well. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow morning and try that again because that was pitiful. Not only am I shocked you swing that way, I’m shocked at your absolute lack of flirting skills. I mean, could you not have at least…” 

Tomorrow morning. 

He’ll come back tomorrow morning, without Tony and with a clear head, all lack of self-confidence and pathetic attempts at flirting washed down the drain alongside his cum. Because there’s no way he’s spending the rest of the day doing anything but jerking off to images, thoughts, and scenarios of Bucky. 

Bucky, the curvy barista with the tiny red bikini and pinkest lips, the one who insinuated he wished Steve could eat him for breakfast. 

Fuck. 

Steve isn’t even ashamed in the slightest as he pulls into the drive thru the next morning, steady rain and darkened sky and all. 

After a day spent sitting on the shower floor alone with his hand and his dick, he spent too much of his night tossing and turning thinking about the way Bucky would feel under his hands to have any sort of shame this morning. Yes, he’s here to see Bucky; of course he is. Does it matter what kind of coffee he’s going to order? It does not. Is he going to ask Bucky out on a date or get his number? He absolutely is. 

He’s here without Tony, is alone without any added pressure, he’s thought of what he’s going to say— 

He’s going to do this. 

His planned out words are forgotten the moment it’s his turn to pull up to the window and he sees Bucky’s smile, bright enough to threaten to push all the rain out of the forecast.

He looks as ethereal as he did yesterday, glowing and angelic and delicious. Today he’s sporting a football jersey that is quite short, cropped and sits just below his chest, another g-string high on his hips that stands out because of his tiny denim shorts. 

Steve’s mouth waters at the same rate his dick turns to stone. He has to busy himself with putting the car in park so he doesn’t reach out his window and grab for Bucky right away, especially after Bucky purrs, “Heya, Stevie. Just had to come back and see me?” 

Steve takes a deep breath. He’s gotta start off strong. 

“Of course I did. How are you, Bucky?” 

His voice is perfectly confident. It’s strong and sturdy and smooth as he leans as casually as he can on his rolled-down window. Bucky meets him in the middle with his own lean against the open drive-thru window, cocking his hip and tucking his chin. 

“I’m good now that you’re here. My latte was that good, Captain?” 

Steve hums. He doesn’t even recall drinking the coffee Bucky made for him the morning before, but he knows it was perfect. He is more than intentional with the way his eyes wander before he answers quietly. 

“It was delicious, doll.” 

It’s the forwardness he was wanting from himself and the exact reaction he was wishing to get from Bucky. The tension between them finally snaps into place with strength that is so startling to Steve it has his heart hammering against his chest. He would be worried, would be backtracking and reeling himself in if it weren’t for the molten and seductive look Bucky is sending his way. 

“You want the same thing? Or do you want somethin’ a little different today?” 

Go in for the kill, Rogers. 

“Think I might want something even sweeter this time around,” he starts, pausing momentarily to watch Bucky’s tongue run along his bottom lip distractedly. “When is your shift over? How about I take you somewhere to grab something to eat?” 

That’s what people do, right? That’s not weird at nine in the morning? 

Bucky barely reacts to his proposition, but Steve can see it, the excitement of his words behind Bucky’s gaze and cool facade. He doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t pull his eyes away from Steve’s when he raises his voice to speak over his shoulder. 

“Darcy! Can I take off early? You owe me.” 

Steve should have known Bucky was going to surprise him, to one-up him. He doesn’t hear what Darcy says in response, is far too focused on the way Bucky’s ass fills out his shorts as he gets quite the eyeful when Bucky turns around. He wants to take the strings of Bucky’s underwear that are resting on his delicious hips and suck them between his teeth. Steve hopes Bucky can tell where his eyes have been as he turns back around with a grin on his face that Steve can’t quite decipher. 

“I’ve got a hankering for somethin’ that isn’t food, big guy.” 

Steve doesn’t know what that means but has a sneaking suspicion it is alluding to something extremely sexual. He hopes it is. Steve’s mouth dries right up when Bucky hops up onto the window, throws a leg over it and straddles the window ledge with unbelievable grace. Steve doesn’t even respond before Bucky is peeking into Steve’s own window, looking into his car. 

“How big is your backseat, Captain Rogers?” 

Steve has ascended. 

He has once again left this life and instead of plummeting into frigid ice, he has been swept up into a flaming inferno. 

He thinks it’s all worth it now. Every shitty and bizarre thing that has happened to him in his life, both of them, has now been deemed worth it as he looks down between his spread thighs and watches Bucky suck down his dick like it’s the best gift he’s ever been given. 

Steve could have never guessed this is how his morning would go, that he’d end up in this random parking lot with Bucky pulling him into the backseat of his car and sitting himself right in Steve’s lap. Don’t get him wrong, it’s the ideal situation, everything Steve eventually wanted, but he thought this is what he’d get after a few dates, after some sort of courting. 

“I’m sure I’ll have some sort of appetite after I bounce myself in your lap the way I’ve been thinkin’ about for twenty-four hours now.” 

Steve had no objections whatsoever. Whatever Bucky wanted. 

“Knew I was gonna love suckin’ on your cock,” Bucky murmurs, voice like sex, dripping in arousal as he mouths at Steve’s cockhead before holding onto the base and smacking Steve against the flat of his tongue, then his cheek. “This isn’t a dick though— this is a cock. Look how big you are, Steve. Just big and pretty all over, aren’t you?” 

Steve’s intended scoff comes out as much more of a garbled whine than a huffed noise. “Right. M’not sure I’m the pretty one, kid.” 

Steve is reminded that he has never seen someone so beautiful in his life actually. He knew it after pulling up to that godforsaken coffee joint, but his realization is driven home in this moment, in watching Bucky suck him off like it’s a privilege, like it’s his only purpose. Even in this vulnerable, subservient position where he is threatening to suck the soul out of Steve’s dick, he’s breathtaking. 

Bucky’s eyelids are heavy with arousal, the curl of his mouth is the most sinful thing Steve has been witness to, and when said mouth is full to the absolute brim of Steve, he moans, makes the sweetest of noises like he’s lost in it. 

Steve almost wishes he could draw Bucky like this and he hasn’t felt compelled to draw with his heart in months.

 Maybe another time. 

“Don’t flatter me, Captain,” Bucky murmurs with a grin, flicking his tongue and mouthing at the crown of Steve’s cock in a way that has Steve’s vision swimming. 

“Steve,” he hears himself breathe, hand coming down to messily stroke a few fingers across Bucky’s cheek. “No Captain, not here. Not with you.” 

Steve’s insides feel all sorts of rearranged with the way Bucky looks up at him, with the seemingly nonstop stream of eye contact he gifts Steve with. He watches as Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he moans, dips his chin and wraps his lips around Steve, sucks. 

“Steve,” Bucky husks out sweetly before he’s swallowing Steve down again, letting him feel the back of Bucky’s throat. 

Bucky sucks cock like he’s a professional, like he’s an expert and he damn well knows it. He’s noisy with it, that perfect edge of sloppy yet succinct, complete with filthy wet noises that go right to Steve’s balls. Bucky moans around his mouthful, throatful, moves his hand in time with his mouth as he does so, slipping together so beautifully Steve has no choice but to drop his head back as he groans. 

The pounding of the rain on the hood of his car barely drowns out his noises. 

This kid doesn’t care that his chin is covered in spit, that his hand is coated in it as well, isn’t afraid to pull off and dive down to mouth at Steve’s sac, first one ball and then the other. Two seconds after Steve lifts his head up to look down at Bucky, he’s right back to dropping it back again, the feeling of Bucky’s tongue slipping behind his balls enough to make him damn near shout towards the roof of the car. Bucky huffs, whines as if he’s on the verge of a climax simply from making Steve feel pleasure he’s never once felt in his life. 

“I wanna make you come, wanna swallow your big load, Steve,” Bucky pouts, voice nasally and desperate in a way that has Steve gritting his teeth. It’s like he can’t bear the thought of pulling his mouth away from Steve’s dick, rubs his cheek against it, moans open-mouthed as he kisses at it between words. “But I want you to come inside of me more, wanna feel this fat cock fill my ass up.” 

Steve gasps, brings his hand down to Bucky’s head once more, this time with an edge of eagerness. He nods his head feverishly as he cards his fingers through Bucky’s chestnut hair, messing up his picture perfect bun as he guides Bucky to wrapping his lips back around his cock. Bucky obliges so gorgeously and eagerly Steve can’t help but moan appreciatively.

“Can...can come more than once. Can stay hard,”  Steve bites out, and he isn’t halfway through his choppy explanation before Bucky is moaning happily, damn near squealing around his mouthful. “You want both, Buck?”

He doesn’t need a verbal answer— Bucky gratefully sputtering and gagging on his dick is enough. 

It takes Bucky but sixty more seconds to make Steve come, embarrassing for him but something Bucky should most definitely take pride in. He sends Steve to the back of his throat, slide after slide, opening his mouth to not muffle the wet and filthy noises of his mouth working Steve over. 

When he comes, he feels his orgasm in his core, pleasure so sharp that it immediately leaves him struggling to take air into his lungs. He forces himself to not shove Bucky’s head down, to not take what little air Bucky has in his own lungs away from him. He fights through waves of his orgasm as he watches on as Bucky drinks him down, as he moans and swallows, moans and sucks, moans and bobs. 

Steve thinks he’s part of some sort of erotic show when Bucky spits bubbles of his mouthful of hot cum back onto Steve’s still- hard cock, whining pitifully when he goes to suck it off again, but Steve is beginning to think this is just Bucky. 

Bucky likes sex. 

Steve likes Bucky. 

Steve thinks he likes sex if it’s with Bucky.

His cock is still covered in his own cum when Bucky moves with pointed determination and a wet mouth from his spot on Steve’s floorboard. To say Steve is surprised even though he knows what’s happening is an understatement. He shakes his head uselessly. 

“It’s…do we…do you have a—” 

“No,” Bucky mumbles with a smile as he fumbles with his shorts. “No condom. I want you raw. I wanna feel you. I promise I’m clean, Stevie. Lemme feel you bare. If I get one chance with Steve Rogers; I want him bare.”

Steve is too overcome with the force of newfound arousal, a wave hot like fire, to reassure Bucky this will not be the last time they see one another. 

He manages to nod his head though, watching through hazy vision as Bucky moves to straddle him, reaching back to pull his excuse for underwear to the side. 

“Know you probably want me to keep my panties on, the way you’ve been eyein’ them. I’ll let you take them home when we’re done here. How ‘bout that?” 

Steve can’t stop his groan as it tumbles from his lips, and all he can think to say is, “But it’s…I’m messy,” as he feels about the cum still coating his erection.

Bucky moans, reaching behind for Steve’s cock, cum-covered and all. “It is messy, baby. But that’s the way I like it.”

Steve reaches another level of ascension when he hears those words, when he feels Bucky press the tip of his cock against his hole, when Bucky doesn’t so much as flinch as he begins to sit on him. 

Maybe it’s because he’s drunk on sex, maybe it’s because he can’t remember what sex felt like before this, but he feels the urge to confess his love for Bucky right there, back seat of a car in the pouring rain and all. He feels like he’s under a spell as he looks up at Bucky, as he takes in his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes, as he watches Bucky get lost in the sensation of being speared open by Steve’s cock. 

“Oh my god,” he hears himself slur, voice dripping in awe, and Bucky smiles— smiles— as he nods his head and lowers himself further onto Steve’s dick. 

It’s impossible for Steve to not reach for Bucky then, for him to not sit up with Bucky in tow and wrap an arm around his tiny middle. It brings their faces impossible close, forces Bucky's hands to come out and scramble for any kind of purchase as he continues to slide down onto Steve’s cock. When they land on his shoulders and then his face, his arms winding themselves around Steve’s neck, the intimacy nearly cuts off Steve’s air supply.

“Oh my god, sit on it.” 

“Steve…!” 

  “Oh baby, c’mon. C’mon…” 

They work in tandem to settle Bucky fully onto his cock, to make him as comfortable as possible with being split open. With the way Bucky bounces and sinks himself into Steve’s lap, it’s clear that he is experienced with sex. But there’s no doubt that Steve is incredibly well-endowed. In fact, Bucky tells him so, to Steve’s utter disbelief. 

“Steve,” he whines into Steve’s open mouth, voice so sweet it makes Steve’s bones ache. “Steve, you feel so big.” 

“I am big, baby— I am. But you can take it, right? Oh, you can take it.” 

He’s not once been one to talk dirty, not once been vocal in any past sexual encounter, but it feels natural with Bucky in his lap. 

Bucky nods his head frantically, wide eyes locked onto Steve’s as if hypnotized. “I can take it.” 

The fingers of his free hand come up to squeeze at the meat of Bucky’s ass cheek, smacking at it when Bucky all but squeals, encouraging him when words become hard and his vision blurs yet again. 

When Bucky’s ass settles flush against Steve’s lap, when he’s left gasping with how hot and tight and wet of a grip his cock is fully wrapped up in, they both share a set of moans, lips smearing messily against one another’s in an excuse for a set of kisses. 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate when he tastes himself on Bucky’s mouth. In fact, his cock pulses at the taste coupled with the reminder images of how Steve’s cum got into Bucky’s mouth in the first place. 

He’s coming to find he enjoys messy if it involves Bucky. 

What he expects to happen next is for the two of them to need to get used to the feeling of Steve inside of Bucky, for Bucky to need to wiggle and roll his hips to adjust to Steve’s size. 

He should know better by now that Bucky is set on surprising Steve at every turn. 

Because what Steve doesn’t expect is for Bucky to moan and press himself fully into Steve’s lap, chest to chest, , to spread his legs around him further and to pout, “Oh, my pussy’s gonna be feeling you for days, Stevie. Stretch it out so good.” 

Holy fuck. 

He lifts himself up in Steve’s grip, an arm around his waist and hand on his ass, and begins to give Steve the best ride he’ll ever have in his life, this one or any cursed one that comes after this. 

The way Bucky sucks cock is nothing compared to the way he rides one. His hips move like water, smooth but with ferocity that can only be compared to hunger, bouncing and rocking in a dizzying tandem. Steve gasps when Bucky adjusts and rises up on his knees, pulling his cock out of his ass and sliding back down onto it, repeating the motion with a guttural and cheerful moan. 

Between bouncing and rocking, Steve isn’t sure if he’ll make it out of this backseat alive. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Does it feel good? Does my pussy feel good?” 

Yeah— they’re going to have to carry him out of here on a stretcher. 

Steve’s thighs shake with the force of Bucky’s bounces, the sensation of the car swaying underneath them adding to the eroticism of the moment. He grits his teeth in an attempt to ground himself, yet all he can hear are the lewd noises of his cum slicking up Bucky’s pussy, easing his bounces and making it easier for Bucky to fuck himself down into Steve’s lap and onto his cock. 

He knows his grip on Bucky’s body has to be too tight, knows that if he isn’t actively thinking about his strength it can get away from him and cause great harm. 

But Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, not with how loud and how eagerly he fucks. The way his body moves, the way it bounces and jiggles in his lap and in said grip, warrants a tight hold. Bucky squeals against Steve’s mouth as he rocks his hips back and forth in Steve’s lap forcefully, finding his rhythm and that sweet spot deep inside of him. 

“Steve,” he all but begs, gasping and tugging at the hair at the back of Steve’s head. “Does my pussy feel good?” 

Validation. Bucky wants validation. Steve can do that. Moving to dig his fingers into the skin of Bucky’s hips, relishing in the shock and pain of Bucky tugging on his hair while his ass squeezes the life out of his cock, he growls through gritted teeth. 

“Pussy feels so goddamn good, Buck. Sweetest pussy v’ever fucked.” 

Bucky’s moan is different this time, more frantic, more emotional. It tugs at Steve’s balls. 

He wants more of that. 

He grabs a hold of Bucky’s ass cheeks this time, two overflowing handfuls that he spreads and spurs on, using his strength for good as Bucky shows more and more signs of his own climax. 

“You like how much my cock stretches your pussy out? You like bein’ stretched out like that?” 

Bucky’s movements become messier, less expertised, as if he’s been waiting for Steve to take over in order to feel. With Steve holding onto him the way he is and with him able to use his strength to fuck Bucky in his lap, Bucky winds an arm back around Steve’s neck, burying his face into the opposite side of it. 

“I love it,” Steve barely hears Bucky slur out. “I fucking love it.” 

“You love the stretch of me or you love hearin’ me talk about it?”

“Both. Both,” Bucky moans, messily sucking on the side of Steve’s neck as he continues to use Bucky’s body, his hole, like a toy. 

That’s all he needs to hear to push past his insecurities of being inexperienced. He lets the words flow, presses them right into Bucky’s jaw.

“Pussy’s so tight, Buck. Fuck. Never had a pussy as good as this. Squeezin’ the hell outta me. Bet it’s so pretty too. You didn’t even show it to me.” 

Bucky’s noises sound like garbled hiccups. Steve is hotter than hell for them. 

“That’s alright though— you can show it to me after this. Bet it’s even prettier all swollen and full’a my cum. Bet it’ll taste even better.” 

Bucky sobs.

“You filthy, bastard. I’m gonna come. Make me come, fuck me harder.” 

Yes. 

He picks Bucky up by the ass and pushes him back down onto his cock faster than humanly possible yet with ease, over and over again until Bucky’s noises are a constant stream, garbled and nonsensical. Being able to use his strength, the vice-like grip Bucky’s pussy chokes him in, the sweet noises Bucky lets out now into his mouth; it sends him all but sailing into his climax. 

“Come in my pussy. Use it for what it’s made for, Steve. Come in it, come in it. Come in my pussy. Fill it up and—” 

Steve blacks out. He isn’t sure if the ringing in his ears is from how hard he comes or from how loud Bucky’s fucked-out noises are, but the first spurt of his second orgasm has him blacking out. 

When he comes to, Bucky is writhing in his lap, wiggling against his front and in his grip, whining about his sweet pussy as he makes a mess of them both between their stomachs. Even through a seemingly watery haze Bucky is beautiful when he comes, free of touch and from Steve’s cock alone. Flushed cheeks, flushed neck, half-lidded eyes and a wet mouth; Steve’s never seen anything more bewitching. 

He can hear himself groaning, can feel the noise of it against the skin of Bucky’s neck when he pulls him close again, sliding his hands up and under Bucky’s cropped jersey. His skin is impossibly warm, impossibly soft. He turns and lets his teeth sink into the skin of his flushed neck, following through with his wish to do so when he first saw Bucky in the drive thru window.

Once he begins to touch Bucky, he can’t stop himself, his hands wandering and rubbing wherever he can, stopping briefly to play with the strings of Bucky’s g-string. 

He breaks the silence by clearing his throat and whispering gruffly. “I do think I want to take this home with me.” 

Bucky’s giggle is immediate and joyful. He pulls his head back, the effort of the movement obvious and sparking a deep sense of satisfaction in Steve. 

“I’m so happy you’re a freak too,” Bucky mumbles, voice raspy and fucked-out. “I was worried I would scare you away.” 

Steve slides his hands back down to Bucky’s ass, kneading at it and moaning at the still pleasurable feel of being inside of someone. 

“To be fair, I didn’t really know I was a freak. You brought it out of me.” 

Bucky purrs happily, squeezing at Steve’s chest and kissing his clean jaw. 

“Good. We can capitalize on that. Hopefully.” 

Steve’s heart soars happily, butterflies such a foreign feeling to him. He squeezes at Bucky further, getting another happy moan out of him. 

“We absolutely can.” 

To Steve’s pleasant surprise, Bucky seems to be in no rush to move from their entangled spot or from Steve’s car. With the exhaustion from using their bodies and the patter of rain falling from the dark sky, it becomes obvious to Steve that they could easily fall asleep here. 

And then Steve can’t help but recognize that he hasn’t felt this at ease with someone, this safe, with someone else since he rejoined this world. 

His grip on Bucky tightens at that thought. He’s unable to stop himself from turning his face and pressing his lips to Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky hums, rocking himself slowly in his lap. 

“Can you come more than twice in a row or…? How long between rounds?” 

Oh yeah— Steve likes sex and Steve likes Bucky.

[themculibrary]

Sub!Bucky Masterlist

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked (ao3) - Kellyscams steve/bucky, maria/sam, tony/pepper, clint/natasha, + more E, 305k

Summary: Steve's just moved back to Brooklyn after spending ten years in California trying to make a life for himself as an artist right after high school. Having escaped to the other side of the country following the sudden death of his mother, Steve feels guilty about abruptly leaving all his friends for so long, unfulfilled, scared and nervous about started college at his age, and unbelievably lonely. So when he meets Bucky Barnes, a young sex-worker, at a bar the night before his first day of classes, temptations might be too high to resist. 

One night paying for sex with the most sinfully gorgeous guy is nothing to brag to the papers about, huh?

S'not like he'll ever see him again anyway...

...Right?

Being In His Possession (ao3) - valiantlybold steve/bucky E, 57k

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is nineteen years old, and he is about to make what might be the worst decision of his short little life.

But little by little, he comes to like his new place of employment, as well as his employer. Well... Maybe a little more than just like.

Bucky Barnes and his Big Beefy Blonde (ao3) - Kellyscams steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: Bucky Barnes loves Big, Beefy, Blondes. What he loves most about Big, Beefy, Blondes is having no string attached sex with them. Until he meets a Big, Beefy, Blonde that just happens to be Steve Rogers -- Captain America who's only been declared alive a few months ago. 

This is one that could go down as Bucky's fuck of a lifetime. 

That's if he can avoid these pesky feelings that start showing up out of nowhere.

Collar Full of Chemistry (ao3) - 2bestfriends steve/bucky E, 188k

Summary: AKA a fantasy BDSM romance featuring heavy mutual pining, feelings denial, and enough kink to blackout a bingo card. We know what we're about, son.

We encourage everyone to read tags and notes. We want everyone to have a safe and happy reading experience! :)

Coming Home For Christmas (ao3) - Chiyume steve/bucky E, 118k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a good man. His friends have told him so on numerous occasions, but this might actually be more bordering on "stupid" rather than "kind". Because what else would you describe the act of inviting a complete stranger - and thief - into your home over the Holidays? Steve isn't quite sure what to call it himself, but fact is that when it comes to the case of Bucky Barnes, Steve's actually pretty okay with being referred to as an idiot, as long as it keep the other man safe. And to Steve's defence, it had all started out with such good intentions...

From You I Cannot Hide (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony, bucky/natasha, clint/phil M, 66k

Summary: Being a sub isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being a sub who doesn’t like pain, well. That’s just weird. A sub’s sole responsibility in life is to be anything and everything a dom wants, an open canvas for a dom’s brush, malleable and sweet. Obie taught him that, and that fear ultimately tears him and Pepper apart. So Tony hides his dirty secret and doesn’t sub for anyone now. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

give him something to believe in (ao3) - howdoyousleep steve/bucky E, 18k

Summary: “Hey, Bucky nice to see you. Sorry about this. Close the door?” The older man’s voice is professional, to the point. Bucky nods, closes the door behind him and then that professional voice changes, has a more of an authoritative edge when he purrs, “Lock it.” 

His Daddy Voice.

However Sweetly It May Storm (ao3) - KimchiKitty7 bucky/steve/tony E, 30k

Summary: After Civil War, Tony Stark is trying to pull his life together and deal with the betrayal and abandonment of his team. One night he goes upstairs to find Steve Rogers in his penthouse, and is ready to try his hand at throwing him out the window. But things aren’t always what they seem. Can they get it right this time?

if you're lonely wake me (ao3) - oh_la_fraise steve/bucky E, 6k

Summary: Their first date is objectively pretty great. But later, when Bucky comes after Steve slides inside him and slaps him on the ass, Steve knows this is going to be fun.

It's Our Pleasure (ao3) - NotEvenCloseToStraight bucky/steve/tony M, 71k

Summary: Steve Rogers is not a typical Dom and Bucky is a Switch choosing to submit for his Captain. Together they have a love that breaks rules and flaunts expectations, and when they see a beautiful sub being mistreated by his Dom, Bucky and Steve break another rule and interfere.

Tony is a sub bound to Old World protocol-- seen but not heard, there for Ty's pleasure alone, regarded as half a person without his Dom--and Tony thinks that life is normal.

Or at least, he thinks its normal until he meets Bucky and Steve. 

Bucky has more freedom than Tony could imagine and Steve's only wish as Dom is to take care of his subs, and when both Dom and Switch fall for Tony, they make it clear there's room for him in their arms and hearts.

First they have to deal with Ty though, first they have to free Tony from an abusive Dom and a history of hurt, and that won't be easy. 

But Tony's ready. He's ready to move on and reclaim his life, ready to take a chance on something new, and ready to learn the beauty of willing submission with Bucky, and the truth of a caring Dom in Steve.

Keys To Your Kingdom (Holding On By A Thread) (ao3) - deathdropdontstop steve/bucky E, 54k

Summary: Steve is a phone dom as a side gig, and Bucky is one of his favorite clients. He does a great job not developing feelings for his clients, until he doesn’t.

Lessons Learned (ao3) - sadsongssaysomuch steve/bucky E, 39k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a retired Army Captain from Brooklyn who now runs a private security firm. He’s a charismatic public speaker and an intensely private man. 

His life runs on routine until he hires James Barnes, a reckless, conflicted man for his PR department. Steve takes an instant liking to him but struggles to help when Barnes’ careless ways begin to interfere with his job.

James Barnes is a man of secrets and he’s gotten good at hiding his traumatic past with his smart-ass attitude. When Steve approaches him about it, one thing leads to another and they end up having a drunken fling. 

However, Steve has his secrets too...

My Albatross Always With Me (ao3) - LolitaBlue steve/bucky E, 94k

Summary: When Bucky Barnes joins the Avengers team as a weapons developer, Steve Rogers doesn't like him very much. Their constant bickering leads to a fiery tension that everyone else wants to sort out. Steve and Bucky are too stubborn to admit why they don't like each other, until they're forced to reach a point where they can't deny the truth any longer. 

(A Modern!Bucky and Cap!Steve AU)

Never Someone Else (ao3) - Kellyscams steve/bucky E, 4k

Summary: Seventy years ago, Bucky Barnes was Steve Roger's registered submissive. Now, after becoming Captain America and the Winter Soldier, Steve and Bucky must figure out if they can still be each others Dominant and submissive. Or if they need to find someone else.

Orgasmus (ao3) - OhCaptainMyCaptain steve/bucky E, 13k

Summary: It had always felt like his life was nothing but decision-making; what with work, taking out the dames, making ends meet all the time at home - Bucky was always expected to have the answers. That’s how society told him he needed to be. When he was at home, though, things were different. The second his shoes came off and that front door was closed, the only thing Bucky had always wanted was for someone to take care of him.

Not ‘someone’, not really. Steve. Bucky wanted Steve to take care of him.

Soft Target (ao3) - Hyperthetical, Riakomai steve/bucky E, 19k

Summary: Bucky and Steve reconnect after a mission gone wrong.

Sunlight on Still Waters (ao3) - cobaltmoony, sparkly_butthole steve/bucky E, 78k

Summary: Steve Rogers lives in a broken-down building in Brooklyn, shops at Whole Foods, and plays Captain America as necessary, adjusting to the twenty-first century as well as can be expected. He’s not looking for a sub, not actively, but when he stumbles - literally - upon his neighbor Bucky Barnes, that old spark lights up once more. 

But things have changed since Steve went into the ice. Society’s gone forwards in many ways, but not all, not by a longshot. And soon enough, he’ll have to play a hero of a different kind.

we are the things that we do for fun (ao3) - Nonymos steve/bucky, clint/natasha E, 35k

Summary: Going to a professional Dom may be one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever done. Especially since this skinny Steve Rogers guy doesn’t really look the part. 

But hey, they might just find a way to make this work.

you're the fireworks flyin' on the fourth of july (ao3) - IamShadow21 steve/bucky E, 2k

Summary: Steve's got ninety-five years' worth of Bucky's birthdays to catch up on.

[strawberrywinter4]

hey!! I saw that you were into Marvel as well, and was wondering if you had any good fic recs :) I'm so addicted I'll read anything I can get my hands on lol

Thank you for the ask!!

Ugh, I WISH I had a lot of recs, but Marvel isn’t my main, main fandom, so I don’t have a lot. (If anyone has some good recs, doesn’t matter which ship, please repost or put it in the comments! I love Marvel and I want some fic recs too lol).

Here are some that I really enjoyed though (these are all ao3 btw.):

Tony Stark/Stephen Strange:

- Sunrise in Exile by Ragdoll (Keshka) - Basically it’s a re-telling of Infinity War. REALLY GOOD!

Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes:

- Author howdoyousleep has some REALLY good stuff (making a Mafia AU at the moment)

Deadpool/Spider-Man:

- fall out, boy, so I can fall in(to you) by TheMadKatter13 - Characters are SPOT ON!

Marvel (in general): 

- Meet-Cute AU’s by 74days

So sorry for the lack of recs, hon. I used to read SO MANY Marvel fics on Wattpad, but somehow, I lost all of them lol. I need more!!

[daletraesp]

Ver la letra de la canción “How Do You Sleep?” de Sam Smith

[dropofbittersea]

He sits up and rolls his neck, hands planted on either side of his hips on the wooden bench beneath him, focusing on his posture, and looks over at the man sitting with him.

Oh shit.