#i keep seeing like bucky being soft in fics and it’s like

[yay-depression]

everything that doesn’t portray sam wilson as the biggest fucking softie is lying

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

QUEEN’S THRONE. 18+

pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader

> the first image has no implication of readers skin tone, the picture itself has the feel of the fic!!

word count. 2041

summary. you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

warnings. 18+ only!! reader is feeling insecure within her body and weight, descriptions involving self doubts, little bit of body worship, cunnilingus, face sitting, bucky being a munch and cuming untouched. minors dni

based on this request

No one ever really prepares you for how difficult it is to like yourself, to find parts of your body you don't hate. To not tear yourself apart over things you deem ugly or heinous. 

There's no manual you get for counteracting these doubts in your mind. You're supposed to trick yourself into thinking otherwise - to deceive the mistrust in your brain. But sometimes, the lies you tell yourself to feel better have no effect on you - the affirmations you repeat in rituals feeling like robotic words from self-help blogs. 

You stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in your room, towel on the floor pooled around your ankles. Damp strings of hair collecting on your shoulders, the almost dry strands indicating the time you've stood looking at yourself.

The skin under your eyes soaked with tears, flesh sore and tender from the last near twenty minutes of picking yourself apart. Your gaze hones in on yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of your thighs, mindlessly staring at the chub you consider ugly.

Your eyes sadly trail up to your stomach, taking note of the wideness of your hips and patches of stretch marks that litter those areas. Seeing yourself in the reflection after a day of feeling bad about yourself was not a healthy coping mechanism, nor was it one you would encourage - but there was just something inside of you, something inside your brain telling you to nitpick your 'problem' areas. 

It was like there was an evil little gremlin in your mind that made things worse for yourself. That made you give in to the doubts and insecurities - that made you believe them.

Sometimes, you had a better hold on that gremlin, quietening that voice with your own, but on others, like today, that was not the case. You had a difficult day, feeling like a sore thumb everywhere you went - feeling like you stood out in all the worst ways. But that was not the truth - the people you passed on the street were too preoccupied with their own spiral of doubt and shame to even notice your 'problem' areas. 

But, right now, you had no space left for rationality - that loud, pitiful voice overshowing the logical parts of your brain.

You hear a light knock on the door, the sound snapping you out of thought. 

"You've been in there a while. Everything okay?" your boyfriend, James, calls out, his tone soft. 

You clear your throat and grab an oversized tee - throwing on the closest one you can find. "Yeah, out in a minute," you reply, evening your voice to avoid detection. 

"Mind if I come in. Need to grab something," Bucky asks, words muffling behind the closed door.

You hesitate momentarily. "Okay."

The door opens, and Bucky steps into the room, eyes immediately landing on the back of you - head cocking to the side suspiciously. He picks up a t-shirt he pretended to need and walks around the bed to you on the other side - standing beside you as you look out the window. 

"What you looking at?" he asks, subtly scoping you out. 

"Just been looking at the moon," you lie, nodding to the silver crescent in the night sky.

Though he doesn't believe you, keeping his eyes on you as you try to redirect his attention. He extends his neck, reaching his head out to see more than just the side of your face - to see the giveaway he knew was there.

He twists you around more to look at him, making you show your face that you've been trying to hide. His eyes land on yours momentarily before you divert them away, turning from his gaze almost shamefully. He takes note of the sore under your eyes, how they look damp and swollen - how tired you look.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. "What's the matter?" he repeats quieter, features softening as he looks at you.

"Nothing," you shrug, turning away from him. "Probably just tired," you partially lie.

He parts focus from you and begins to place together the pieces you weren't willing to share. He glances around the room until he lands on the mirror, the towel on the floor confirming his theory. 

Poking his neck out, trying to meet your gaze again, he calls your name - trying to refocus you.

"You have to stop doing that to yourself," he murmurs, twisting you around to him for the final time. "You're so mean to yourself, and you don't deserve it," he softly shakes his head, reinforcing his words. 

"I wasn't doing that," you reply, bottom lip beginning to tremble with your lie. "I don't do— I don't do that anymore."

His head tilts to the side, not believing you. "Honey," he coos, drawing out the term of endearment as he brings you in for a hug - wrapping you up in an embrace. 

"I don't," you continue, voice almost breaking. "I don't," you repeat, shaking your head softly in the crook of his neck. 

"Okay," he hums, brushing comforting strokes up your back, soothing you. "I know," he murmurs.

He holds you like that, large hands engulfing the middle of your back, caressing you with delicate touch and waiting for you to pull away. 

"I'm sorry," you sniffle, backing away as you wipe your nose on your hand. "I'm being stupid," you shrug with a weak smile, self-depreciation creeping in.

Bucky shakes his head firmly, a soft furrow of his brows indicating his distaste for the topic. He extends his hands to your face, placing palms over your cheeks - stilling your face and making you look at him. "Stop it," he scolds, voice warm and gentle. His hands secure on your face, eyes boring into yours. "You have to stop doing that."

You sigh, a slow, uneasy exhale leaving your lips as if to steady yourself.

"I think you're perfect," he whispers, pressing a kiss onto your cheek - absorbing the tear from your skin. "I wish you could see it too."

His hands leave the placement on your cheeks, moving down to rest on your hips over your tee. One flesh, one metal sitting on the curve. He keeps his eyes locked on you, looking for signs of discomfort, only to find none - your gaze trusting and enamoured. 

Bending at the knee in front of you and at eye level with your 'problem' areas, he glides his hands up your outer thighs - palms running over them intently. He keeps his eyes locked on your upper legs, watching the soft jiggle of the chub - utterly captivated by their beautiful shape.

He hesitantly runs his hands higher and towards your hips, forearms catching on the hem of your t-shirt, rising and revealing your bare pussy underneath. He inhales harshly, the lewd sight of you mere inches away from your face. 

He presses soft kisses over your plump thighs, almost worshipping you - on his knees, kissing parts of you he adores most. He glances up to meet your gaze, your eyes already locked on him.

His kisses trail higher, lining up the crease between cunt and thigh, working up the cute swell of your tummy. "You're beautiful," he murmurs,

words muffling into your hip. "And so perfect."

You rake your fingers into his hair, softly stroking his scalp - all thoughts from earlier dissipating slowly, everything feeling inconsequential with your pretty boyfriend on his knees between your legs.

"Sit on my face," he mutters, pulling away from your stomach to look up at you. "I want you on my face."

Your half-lidden eyes fling open, shock almost slapping you across the face. "What?" you question, gently tugging Bucky's head away from your tummy. "No," you shake your head. "I'll hurt you."

He faintly chuckles as he stands, leaning back onto the mattress. "You won't," he smiles, resting his head on the pillows behind, getting comfortable. "Come on," he nods you over, beckoning you to your throne. 

"I don't know," you reply sheepishly, glancing over him.

"You don't have to sit— just hover."

You step closer and kneel on the bed, pausing like you're debating yourself. "I don't want to squash you."

"You won't," he shakes his head, his expression eager. "Just... come on."

With a gentle sigh and a nod, you crawl up the bed, scooching along the mattress on your knees until you're beside his head. You grip the headboard for support as you lift a leg, placing it on the other side of his head, situating yourself in a hover over his face. 

"I don't want to hurt you— please tell me if I do," you worry, lifting the hem of your t-shirt to get a better look at him below.

"Promise," he says lowly, placing his hands on the swell of your thighs, slowly guiding your pussy closer.

He lays his tongue flat against the slit of your cunt, an immediate pleased hum muffling into your folds. The warm contact of his tongue makes your thighs tremble and breath hitch, everything feeling new from this heightening position. 

With light pressure, he swipes through your pussy lips, tongue lapping you in a leisure rhythm as the tip of his nose bumps at your clit.

His palms graze over your thighs, reaching up to the crease where he can get a hold of you and push you down onto his face. But you notice his pawing and swat his hands off - raising yourself back into a hover and lifting further away.

Bucky doesn't let you go far before he's pushing you back down, a firm grip on your waist keeping you still. "Stay," he muffles into your cunt, caressing it with slow, sloppy kisses.

He laps at your pussy, burying his tongue further into the wet warmth of you - repeated pleasure-filled groans vibrating against you as you give into the bliss. You finally allow yourself to enjoy the moment without doubt getting in the way - all worry slowly being replaced by euphoria as you sink further onto his face.

Meeting his gaze over the top of your pussy, he gives you a wink - the act like silent praise, him voicelessly applauding you for tuning out the voice in your head. 

With one hand on the headboard, you dip the other down, circling the ache in your clit a few times before moving into the short, dark brown hairs at the top of his head. Tugging on his hair as if you're holding him there.

His grip on your waist trails down, moving back to the plush of your thighs where he squeezes - fingers digging into the doughy flesh. He holds you there, muffling moans against your folds as he coats the insides of his boxers in a sheen of his cum - the taste and feel of you alone, enough to send him over the edge.

You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder to the tented cock in his sweats, his head protruding through the wet patch of where he just came. A breath gets caught in your throat at the lewd image, and it all begins to feel like too much, all your senses consumed in the feeling.

With the knot tightening in your tummy, you feel yourself grow closer to the edge - the soft jerk of your hips indicating the closeness of your climax. Within moments, you're cuming on Bucky's tongue, whining broken and spluttered noises into the air.

He continues to hold you there, making out with your cunt through your orgasm - lapping up everything that seeped out. Letting you smear your juices on the bottom half of his face.

You lift your leg from the other side of his head, moving from his face and flopping backwards onto the bed. Laying heads and tails, completely spent. 

But Bucky follows after you - not letting you get far. And before you have a second to process it, he's back between your legs, lips kissing at the soft plush of your inner thighs.

Poking his head up to look at you, he asks. "One more?"

[ivybucky]

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

[pahtoosh]

baba face

[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~2400 words

warnings: reader takes a little tumble

a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ

It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again. 

Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable. 

During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba. 

Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam. 

Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it. 

On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug. 

“I missed you, Sammy!”

“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”

You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”

Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”

“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”

You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush. 

It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky. 

“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?  

Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out. 

The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears. 

Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride. 

He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’. 

The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging. 

After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.

“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”

“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”

She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”

You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift. 

“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.

“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.

“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?” 

Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering. 

“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”

“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”

“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.

“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you. 

You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”

Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.

Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals. 

Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.

“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”

“Mhm.”

“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”

You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”

“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury. 

You perked up at his next words. 

“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”

You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.

Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.

Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”

You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”

“Why do you call them that?”

“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing. 

Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys. 

Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now. 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you. 

“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased. 

“Turtle you?” Steve asked. 

Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” 

“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face. 

The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other. 

Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him. 

“Hi, Baba!”

“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels. 

You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back. 

“Baba, hug me better,” you whined. 

Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”

You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble. 

“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream. 

“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”

You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”

Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look. 

Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

[winterarmyy]

Against All Odds | Part III

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 5k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, gore, blood, violence, short yet emotional smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overall low intensity angst with a bittersweet ending.

A/N: i want to thank all of you for taking some of your precious time to read my fic, i really appreciate it! this is the last installment of the main series, i hope you enjoy your time.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Standing at the altar, Bucky’s heart pounded loudly; excitement and sorrow interlaced within his being. The weight of Y/N’s death still haunted him; every time he closed his eyes, those horrifying images conquered his mind.

But today, this very moment, he had been given another chance. The conflict within him was fierce; he was determined to protect her this time, to keep them safe no matter the cost. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, but all his thoughts were interrupted when the church doors opened.

As the crowd rose to their feet, for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Y/N walked toward him, each step amplifying the intense storm swirling inside him. She was more beautiful than he remembered, more radiant than he ever thought possible. In the past, he had been unfamiliar with the nuances of his emotions, but now, with his heart fully opened, he was consumed by an all-encompassing love.

The urge to rush to her, to pull her into his arms and never let go, was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to remain composed, to hold onto the control he needed.

As she walked down the aisle, he felt like his chest was on fire; it was almost overwhelming. Memories of their past life together flashed before his eyes, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he was determined to save. 

And as Bucky lifted her veil, he couldn’t focus on anything else; the sight of her, so radiant and beautiful, so close, so real.The delicate fabric framed her face, accentuating the soft curve of her cheeks, the gentle arch of her brows, and the deep, soulful eyes that had captivated him from the moment they met. 

When her eyes met his, he saw something unexpected in their depths; an innocence and trust that made his heart ache. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect this woman, not just from the dangers of what lies ahead in their future but also beyond this earth; heaven or hell, it does not matter.

Bucky gently placed a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the pristine fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her cheek, the touch both tender and deliberate. The sight of her up close, the feel of her under his touch, was both too much and not enough. 

He leaned in and his heart raced vigorously in the trepidation of the chance that he might lose her again. But when his lips met hers, he was completely engulfed by immense euphoria. The happiness of being able to hold her again, to share this moment of tenderness, was so much stronger than the anxiety that hounded his mind. As he pulled away, he saw her blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with confusion and awe.  

To be able to see such a sight again was a blessing; Bucky thought he had lost it forever. His chest seemingly expanded to accommodate the hope and determination filling the space within his ribcage. To ensure that this time, things would be different. He had longed for this moment, to have her in his arms again, and now that it was real, it was even more profound than he had imagined.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the depth of his emotions. “I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear.” The reassurance in his tone was genuine, a reflection of his own relief and longing.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes softened as he adored the tint of pink on her cheeks, “Good,” he added, his gaze tender and full of warmth. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Bucky’s nightmare was a relentless torture decorated with anguish and despair. And it was always the same series of events. Him riding through the frozen landscape, the biting cold of the snow searing through his worn leather boots. The icy wind howled around him, matching the torment that gripped his heart. The landscape blurred as he navigated the bloodied halls of their home, a once serene space now stained by violence and death.

Him, stumbling into their shared bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw her; Y/N’s body, brutally maimed and lifeless. The sight of his child, still and cold, was a dagger to his soul. The room was a horrifying tableau of shattered dreams and crushed hopes. His cries of despair echoed in the empty corridors of his mind, the reality of the scene blending with his deepest fears.

His body jerked violently as he jolted awake, the sudden shift from the nightmare to the waking world leaving him disoriented and breathless. The line between a mere dream and reality was blurred, the remnants of his terror clinging to him like a shroud.

He fumbled through the darkness, his mind racing as he struggled to grasp where he was. The echoes of his terror still haunted him, a grim reminder of the fragility of their happiness.

“Bucky?” Her voice, soft and uncertain, cut through his haze of panic. He blinked rapidly, struggling to focus.

“Y/N?” His voice was a whisper, fragile and filled with a tormented confusion. Seeing her was almost like a divine intervention, a moment of disbelief at her presence. He stared at her, trying to reconcile the vibrant, alive woman before him with the haunting vision he had just escaped.

Her presence was a stark contrast to the lifeless image burned into his mind. Seeing her breathing, speaking back to him, felt like a dream that will never come true.

Not wasting any time dwelling, his body surged forward, enveloping her in a gripping yet desperate embrace. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice trembling with the raw intensity of his emotions. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his grief and dread pouring out in the hidden agony.

The truth of his nightmare and the burden of his misery weighed heavily on him, almost impossible to bear; at least not alone. The words he wanted to speak were trapped within him, their pressure making it hard to breathe, let alone articulate his pain.

Bucky took refuge in his wife’s arm, focusing on the feeling of her hands moving soothingly up and down his back. “I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I’m here, Bucky.” Her presence was grounding; holding him tight in a reality that felt too fragile to trust.

The night was still and intimate, and Bucky’s need for her overwhelmed him. Their connection deepened as he made love to her, each touch, each kiss a frenzied affirmation of the life they still shared; a way to anchor himself to the truth of their love amidst the chaos of his dreams.

In the opulent chamber, Bucky stood like a silent sentinel, his form partially obscured by the shadows cast from the full moon behind him. The eerie silhouette of his shadow filtering through the large, arched window. The room was a luxurious display of wealth and power, adorned with velvet drapes and golden accents.

Despite the grandeur, the atmosphere was chilling, accentuated by the presence of Bucky in his Winter Soldier attire: a black mask, heavy boots, and a sleek, tactical uniform that made him appear as if he were more machine than man.

He moved with the ghostly grace of a predator, each step intentional and calculated as he approached the enormous bed at the centre of the room. The Emperor lay sprawled beneath an elaborate canopy, his slumber seemingly undisturbed by the chaos outside his lavish walls. It was almost laughable to Bucky that such a cruel ruler, whose hands were stained with countless deaths, could rest so easily, untouched by the spectres of guilt that should have plagued him.

Bucky’s gaze was unfeeling as he surveyed the sleeping figure. The Emperor's peaceful expression was a dichotomy to the turmoil that simmered beneath Bucky’s cold exterior. His presence, unmoving and imposing, made the room feel colder, his eyes devoid of warmth or emotion.With the steely void in his mind, his purpose clear as he stalked closer, each step making the heavy boots sound like distant thunder.

The Emperor stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Bucky standing at the foot of the bed. For a moment, there was confusion in the Emperor’s eyes, quickly replaced by a smirk. "I don't remember calling for you, soldier," he said, his tone half-joking, half-curious.

This was not the first visit at such ungodly hours for Bucky. Often the Emperor would call upon him to send him out on clandestine missions or covert operations.

Bucky’s unresponsive silence made the Emperor uneasy, a subtle crack in his facade of control. As Bucky’s form loomed closer, his eyes glinted with an icy determination that cut through the darkness like a blade. The realisation of the danger crept into his expression as Bucky reached the side of the bed.

Before the Emperor managed to call out for help, Bucky’s metal hand shot out, encircling the Emperor's throat with a grip of iron. His eyes widened in shock, "What is the meaning of this?" he croaked, his voice strained as he struggled against the unyielding grip.

Bucky’s voice was a low, menacing growl. "Why did you kill them?" he demanded. The Emperor’s face twisted into a mask of genuine confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” he said, his voice strained with bewilderment.

Eyes burning with an intensity that spoke of old wounds and unending fury, Bucky was in a trance-like state. His mind focused on the Emperor as the embodiment of the callousness that had devastated his life. To him, it mattered so little whether this version of the Emperor had committed the heinous acts or not. The knowledge that past him had once inflicted such horrors was enough to ignite Bucky’s rage.

“My wife,” Bucky growled, his voice cutting through the Emperor’s confusion with chilling clarity. The Emperor’s eyes widened further, a flicker of fear beginning to replace his initial disbelief. “Why did you kill her?,” Bucky continued, his tone carrying the heaviness of an unspoken pain.

The Emperor’s expression remained in a genuine concern, though it did little to mask his growing foreboding. “I never ordered anyone to lay hands on her,” he insisted, his voice cracking with a hint of desperation. “I would have remembered something like that.”

Bucky’s gaze remained unwavering, his anger as fiery as ever. The Emperor’s words, though spoken with a semblance of sincerity, only fueled Bucky’s fury. It wasn’t merely about this specific Emperor’s actions; it didn’t even matter if he had not done the deed yet.

It was about the realisation that such brutality happened once before. Much more atrocious to know that it had been sanctioned by someone in a position of power. The sense of betrayal ran deep, rooted in the knowledge that the cruelty was a part of a larger, systemic evil that had haunted Bucky’s past.

As the Emperor tried to reason with him, his terror and desperation were transparent. "I would never harm your wife," he protested weakly, his voice trembling with an echo of dismay. Bucky’s mind flashed with ghastly memories; the cold snow he rode through, the bloodied halls leading to their shared bedroom, the image of Y/N’s body maimed, his child lifeless. The horrific images fueled his rage.

"Oh, but you will." Bucky hissed, his anger boiling beneath the surface. His free hand drew a blade, the steel glinting with deadly intent. The Emperor's eyes were wide with horror; his pleas of defence were simply a string of meaningless words lost in the wind as Bucky’s resolve hardened.

With a swift, adept motion, the blade struck through the man’s throat. The Emperor gurgled; blood bubbling from the wound as his eyes widened in shock. Bucky’s face remained impassive, his cold eyes reflecting no mercy. He plunged the blade deeper, the Emperor’s feeble attempts to grasp Bucky’s arm proving futile. 

Unfortunately for him, the first strike was not enough to quench the rage that burned within Bucky. He pulled the blade out and struck again. Again and again, the knife met its target, each jab driven by the anguish of countless painful memories. The bed beneath them soaked with the colour of crimson, the luxurious chamber now marred by the blood of its cruel occupant. The room filled with the grotesque sound of a life being extinguished, a gruesome symphony that echoed Bucky’s inner anarchy.

Bucky stood over the fallen ruler, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. As the adrenaline faded, Bucky’s vision suddenly began to blur, the edges of the room dimming into darkness. The world seemed to contract into a tunnel of darkness until a voice cut through the haze. “You really have to be that… brutal?” The voice was calm, yet filled with an air of reproach.

With his sight suddenly altered, Bucky turned towards the sound; the silhouette was unclear in his clouded vision, however he recognized the voice. “Steve,” he called out, his voice a low rasp.

Steve, the crown prince, stood in the doorway, his expression was weaving traces of concern and resignation. He took a step forward, the dim light catching the determination etched in his features. Tomorrow, he would be the new emperor, a role thrust upon him by necessity and circumstance.

Although Steve was one of the emperor’s blood; his only living male heir. His mother was not the empress but one of the many wives the emperor had taken. In the emperor's eyes, this made Steve unworthy of the crown, despite his lineage. This disdain had placed Steve in a precarious position, viewed as a threat rather than a successor.

In the past, Bucky and Wanda had seen Steve meet a tragic end, assassinated by the devout followers of the Emperor who refused to relinquish power. This time, Bucky and Wanda had approached Steve with a plan to overthrow the throne.

While withholding the truth of their origins, they convinced him to claim the crown for his own, knowing the kingdom already favoured him. The real challenge lay with the noble families, whose support was crucial. Over the past few months, Steve had skillfully manoeuvred through the intricate web of politics, winning their allegiance.

Meanwhile, Wanda had been executing a 'clean-up' operation at the magic tower, ensuring no loyalists of the emperor remained. By the time Bucky entered the emperor’s chambers, all potential threats had been neutralised. Soon, the kingdom would surely hear news of the youngest female master of the tower reigning in power.

“Hey, Buck. You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. Steve noticed the way Bucky’s eyes seemed to glaze over, staring into nothingness. Concern etched into his features, he took a step closer. Bucky blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision, but the blurriness persisted, leaving him disoriented.

As Bucky’s vision began to clear, he saw Steve’s concerned blue eyes staring back at him. “Yeah, just…” Bucky shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving the teleportation stone given to him by Wanda prior to the mission. His gaze fixed on the shimmering stone, the weight of his debt to the ancient magic pressed heavily on his mind; knowing the time to pay for it was drawing near. “…just missing my wife.”

Steve watched, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky crushed the stone in his hand, the stone's magic activated with a flash of deep red light, enveloping Bucky in its embrace, swallowing him into the abyss and back to his home, to Y/N.

Moments later, the warmth and chaos of the Emperor’s chambers vanished as the cold night air hit him as Bucky found himself on the balcony of his home. Through the transparent glass, he could see his room bathed in a faint light. Inside, Y/N was reading by the soft glow of a night lamp. The sudden swoosh of Bucky’s arrival drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze from the book to the source of the sound. Her eyes widened as she saw the dark silhouette standing on the balcony.

"Hello?" she called out softly, her voice quivering with fear. She set her book aside and stood up, her silk nightdress flowing around her like a whisper of moonlight. She walked to the balcony door, the rhythm of her heart quickened as anxiety creeped in. 

As the door opened, the cold wind tickled a shivering goosebumps on her skin. She looked up at the man, her eyes widening in surprise and anxiousness. Bucky, on the other hand, remained still; his mask and dark attire made him look as if he were a ghost from her nightmares. His eyes, however, were unmistakable. The familiar blue gaze met hers, and she recognized him instantly.

Y/N’s initial fear melted away as she stepped closer towards him, "Why are you out here in the cold, love?" she asked gently, standing only inches from his foreboding self. The distinction between them was hardly difficult to spot: her soft, fragile appearance in her silk nightdress against his imposing, almost monstrous form in his combat gear.

Bucky stayed silent, his eyes trained on her as if trying to memorise every feature, every delicate line of her face. She reached up, her fingers slightly trembling to the cold, gently removing his mask. The emotionless facade that he put up crumbled almost instantly, his eyes softened as she smiled up to him. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble, "Come inside," she urged softly. "You're freezing."

He didn’t argue as he allowed himself to be led into the warmth of their room. Y/N’s hands moved with gentle resolution. As they reached the side of their bed, she began undressing him from his harsh, restrictive attire down to his shorts and sat him on the mattress behind him. She traced the scars on his body, each one a testament to the battles he had fought, and her fingers made their way up to his stubbled jaw, cupping his cheek tenderly.

"Bucky… you look so troubled." She noticed. "What's wrong, my love?" her voice filled with concern. She came to his side, sitting close as she spoke softly, “Tell me,” her eyes searched within his, “...please?” 

Bucky took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the burden of the truth he was about to reveal. "Y/N," he began, his voice slow, as if he was afraid, "This... this isn't our first time living through this. Our marriage, our life together, it was supposed to be different.”

Everything that had been haunting him for the past months spilled out for Y/N to consume. He spoke of the first time he stood at the altar, the way he was clumsy and rough the first time he touched her, their awkward moments, and the ups and downs that became the foundation of their budding romance.

He told her about her pregnancy, the joy he felt from it, how she glowed with happiness, and the dreams they had for their child. He recounted his request for retirement, wanting to leave his life as a weapon behind to be with his family, to protect and cherish them.

But then he spoke of the horror that shattered his world. How he found her dead with their child, both victims of the Emperor’s cruelty. He described the devastation, the unbearable pain, and the crushing sense of failure. He had lost them both, and his heart had been torn apart. "I lost you once before. You and our child," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Bucky continued, his words pouring out in a rush. He spoke of Wanda, how she had given him a chance to come back, to change things, to save her, to save them. He told her about the sacrifices, the battles fought in the shadows, and the relentless drive to protect her and their unborn child. He described the nightmares that haunted him, the fear of failing again, and the desperate hope that this time, things would be different.

Yet, as he bared his entire soul to her, Bucky kept one critical detail shrouded in silence. He did not mention the true cost of altering time, the personal price he had to pay for this chance at redemption. The burden of that price, the debt to ancient magic that had exacted a toll on him, remained untold, a hidden weight that he bore alone. At least for now.

Y/N was silent, her mind racing to comprehend the enormity of his confession. It sounded impossible, yet there was a sincerity in Bucky's voice, a pain that was all too real. She thought back to the subtle hints in his behaviour, the way he seemed to know her so intimately, as if he had known her for a lifetime. She remembered the moments when he would finish her sentences, anticipate her needs before she even voiced them, and the way he looked at her with such profound love and fear, as if he was afraid she would disappear.

Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes as he reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “It’s true, Y/N. Every word. I’ve lived through this nightmare, and I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” However, Y/N’s silence scared him. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, terrified that she would reject his story, reject him. Bucky's tears fell freely now, landing on her skin like tiny droplets of despair. "Say something, please," he begged, his voice choking with emotion.

Y/N’s mind and heart were in turmoil, but something deep within her, something in her soul, told her to put her faith in him. Just like that, she believed him. Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he must have endured. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes searching in his ocean blues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you so soon, love,” she said softly, not knowing why her voice broke..

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened with relief, his tears flowing even more; raw and unfiltered. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she would vanish. “Y/N” he whispered against her hair, his voice was a sound of agony and respite. 

Y/N’s own tears fell as she held him close. She didn’t fully understand the mechanics of time or the magic that had brought him back, but she knew one thing: she loved this man with all her heart, and she would do anything to ease his pain. 

“Thank you for saving me.” she echoed, her voice soft but firm.

Their tears of sorrow began to shift into a more tender, fervent connection as their need for each other deepened. Bucky’s lips found Y/N’s in a searing, passionate kiss. Their tears mingled and cascaded down their cheeks as they lost themselves in the embrace. Each touch, each kiss, was imbued with an urgency to reaffirm their bond and erase the pain that had haunted him.

Every piece of clothes were thrown aside; discarded in their frantic desire to be closer. Bucky’s touch grew more intimate; hands moved to pin Y/N's hands above her head, pressing her wrists gently but firmly into the bed. His eyes, dark with desire and love, bore into hers.

“Let me see you, my dear. Please, let me see all of you,” Bucky whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he removed his hands from her wrists, roaming over Y/N’s body. His touch is a mix of reverence and desperation. He explored the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her hips, and the soft, supple skin that felt like a lifeline to him. 

He trailed his lips down Y/N’s neck, savouring the softness of her skin, leaving a trail of heated kisses. His breath warmed her as he explored her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and lower, where his lips brushed against the delicate curve of her breasts. Each kiss was a worshipful caress, a testament to his adoration and need for her.

A simple nudge of his hips and Bucky sinks in, breathes caught in the air when he starts to move; “You feel so good, so tight around me.” His thrusts were slow, sensual yet deliciously deep. “I love you so much,” his declaration spread warmth all over heart, filling up every space possible; much like his huge, throbbing cock to her cunt. So full, so good. While he rocked his hips, Bucky’s lips trailed delicately on her cheek, “My dearest” he murmured watching the tears fall from the corner of her eyes, “My everything”. 

Y/N, feeling the intensity of his love and the raw need in his embrace, responded with equal fervour. Her hands ardently moved over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the contours of his muscles tense and relax under her touch. She could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he clung to her as if she were his salvation.

Bucky’s calloused fingers slipped downwards, reaching to where their bodies were most connected. He found a grounding pleasure as he swirled soft circles on her sensitive clit; rubbing it the way he knew she loved. Y/N leaned into his touch, her body responding to his every movement. Her breaths came in short, heated whimpers as Bucky’s hands continued their exploration, his fingers grazing over her sensitive skin with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

Creating a slight distance between them, Bucky leaned back and revelled in the sight of her; what a view she was.

Her hair was messy in the most beautiful way, cascading around her face like a halo. Her hands gripped the sheets behind her, knuckles white, grounding herself in the intensity of the moment. Her body arched gracefully, a perfect curve that pushed her hips toward his in a silent plea for more. His fingers; now wet with her slick, continued to rub tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“There she is. So pretty for me, so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky murmured lowly, his voice filled with desire and awe.

“Bucky, please,” she whispered, her voice a plea, her legs around his waist tugging him closer.

Bucky found her shy desperation was seductive yet so innocently pure. “God, how am I so fucking lucky?” Bucky’s breath shuddered as he felt the way her pussy clenched in protest of his delay; his voice heavy with emotion as he moved against her, his eyes locked onto hers. The raw need in her voice, the way her body responded to his touch, made his heart swell with unrestrained desire.

The metal of his left hand found their way to her hips, guiding her with a gentle yet insistent touch as his fleshed finger worked on her clit. Despite the hard and hasten pace of his thrusts, their movements were synchronised, each grind was a need to chase that height of ecstasy. 

The room was filled with their whispered breaths, their shared moans of pleasure, and the undeniable proof of their love. Their connection transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls, reaffirming the bond that had defied time and fate. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his voice raw and filled with affection as he held her close, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

“I love you, too, Bucky.” she replied, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings.

As they reached the peak of their high, their cries of passion were mingled with their whispered promises of devotion. Every touch was a declaration, every kiss a vow to never be separated again, and every warmth filling inside her was a possible gift of a future they looked forward to.

Afterward, they lay entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal, the room filled with a quiet sense of contentment and amour. Compared to prior, this time, their touch was gentle, almost innocent compared to the fervent passion earlier. They held each other, caressing skin, savouring the quiet moments of closeness. Bucky felt at ease, a sense of peace washing over him that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

Bucky’s perspective was filled with the sight of Y/N. He drank in every detail, from the curve of her lips to the softness of her cheeks, to the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. Her skin was a beautiful contrast to his own, delicate and smooth; pure and untainted. He traced his fingers lightly over her features, committing them to memory with a sense of awe and gratitude.

She yawned as fatigue creeped in, snuggling closer, tighter. Bucky brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You should sleep, sweetheart.” he whispered softly. Y/N smiled, her eyes already half-closed. “See you in the morning?” she murmured, her voice laced with drowsiness.

At that moment, Bucky’s vision began to blur again; worse than before. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the edges of his sight remained dark and unfocused. He felt a pang of fear but pushed it aside. The time had come, he realised. He kissed her forehead gently, revelling in the feel of her skin against his lips. “See you in the morning, my dear,” he replied, his voice steady despite the growing darkness in his vision.

He smiled down at her as she snuggled, his heart filled with joy and serenity. Bucky held onto her tightly, cherishing the moment, knowing that no matter what happened, their love had conquered time itself. He marvelled at the fact that against all odds, he had saved the woman he loved, and nothing could take that triumph away from him. In the end, even with his eyes still wide open, he let the encroaching blackness take over, surrendering to the inevitable with a heart full of love and a soul finally at peace.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: we have reached the end of the journey, i am sorry if you feel like the story is a bit rushed; i am not capable to commit more than 3 chapters, otherwise this will ended up being in a hiatus. i, however, can consider writing oneshots for this au somewhere in the future. meanwhile, leaving your comments behind would definitely make me happy!

[buckys-little-belle]

Could you do a Bucky barns fic with a little reader who is really scared to ask for things? (No pressure ofc)

Bunny's Carrots

Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Reader is anxious when it comes to asking for things they want, Bucky's Winter Soldier past is mentioned vaguely, but the words "Murder, Kill, and Maim" are used in a sentence, Talks of reader eating carrots

Notes - This is short, and I don't know if I'm really happy with it, but I hope it's good and that y'all like it! <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Bucky got a payout from the legal team that was dealing with what was left of HYDRA. It was a big payout, one he felt guilty for. He had been the one to kill, hurt, maim, he had done the damage to so many people and yet he was getting "we're sorry" money. It felt wrong, and weird.

But when Y/n came into his life, the weight of the money became lighter. He no longer felt guilty spending the money when he spent it on you. In his mind the money wasn't a reward for following orders all those years, it was a reward for living long enough to find his Bunny.

So he often bought them things, cute magnets he found while out and about, sheets of stickers he thought they might like, and any time he passed a display that held some sort of bunny related item he laid down his debit card.

Y/n enjoyed the gifts, being spoiled was new for them, and they found ever gift to be meaningful because Bucky himself had picked it out.

But Bucky didn't like the way Y/n never asked for anything. They were happy to receive his gifts but they never asked for anything specific. He liked providing for them, but he wanted to make their dreams come true too, instead of just offloading new gifts on top of them.

"I'm off to the store, Bunny!" Bucky called from the foyer of his and Bunny's home. The home he bought for them so the two of them could have a safe space away from the city. "Do you want anything?" He asked. It was going to be a quick trip, just down the street to grab some bread for that night's dinner.

Bunny peaked their head out of the living room, a marker still in their hand from colouring. "No, I'm good, Daddy." They smiled, wandering over to him to give him a hug before he left.

"You're always "good", Bunny." Bucky sighed, pulling them in closer. "Is there a snack I can get you? Some new type of juice? Anything."

"I don' need anythin'." Y/n smiled up at him.

"I know you don't need anything, Bunny." He cooed, hand running over their head. "But do you want anything?"

"You always ask tha'." Bunny giggled.

"And you never seem to want anything." He countered.

"Jus' need you, and my Bunny, an tha's it!" They smiled.

"Bunny, what do you want from the store?" Bucky decided he wasn't going to back down this time. He needed to get his Bunny used to asking for what they wanted, he needed them to start asking for more than just their needs. "I'm not leaving until you think of something." He laid down the law.

"This unfair." Bunny pouted. "Don' need anythin'!" They began to show their unrest.

"No, you don't need, anything, but do you want something?" He asked again, not letting the subject drop.

"Maybe." Y/n shrugged their shoulders.

"What do you want?"

"Maybe som' carrots? To snack on when I colour?" They whispered. "Please?"

"Good job, Bunny." Bucky pulled them in for a big squeeze. "I'll get you some carrots at the store."

"Tha' was hard." Y/n pouted again.

"I know, Bunny." Bucky soothed, rubbing soft circles on their back. "But you did a good job asking for what you want." He laughed. "It'll get easier the more you do it."

"'m never doin' it again." Y/n huffed.

"We'll see about that." Bucky smiled, giving them a forehead kiss goodbye.

It had taken a year and a half for Bunny to ask for something they wanted, and he assumed it would be another few months before he could get them to ask again. But he was a patient man, who would help them work on vocalizing their wants.

He was proud of his Bunny, knowing it was hard for them to ask for a want, knowing they often struggled with putting themself first. But this showed great progress, and Bucky was excited to see them break out of their shell more and more. Thankful that they trusted him enough to let him push them out of their comfort zone.

Baby carrots, here he comes.

[wittyminds]

More Than A Feeling

This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.

I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.

Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.

To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.

You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.

So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.

He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.

Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.

Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.

What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.

But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.

Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.

A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.

"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.

"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.

"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.

He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.

His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.

You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.

You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.

You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.

As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."

It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.

You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.

Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.

You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.

When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.

He whips round, only to notice that it's you.

"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.

God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.

"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.

You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.

His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.

"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."

You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.

"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.

"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.

He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.

"Oh come on!"

Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.

Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.

"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.

"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.

Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.

"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.

"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"

You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.

Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.

"Yes?" You ask quietly.

"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.

"I-I don't know what you mean..."

She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.

"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.

"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.

His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.

"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.

A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.

How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.

So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.

You and him.

"I love you too."

***

A/N

I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx

[alienoresimagines]

can you write [knuckles] for a kiss on the hand? thank you!!

I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you're still around 🥺❤️But here it is, 1.8k long despite my best efforts at keeping it under 1k 😅 I hope you'll like it 💕 Also on AO3 My other Clegan fics here

Never Coming Down (With Your Hand In Mine) | Buck x Bucky

The radio they managed to find doesn't tell them much of interest regarding the Allies’ troops and their progress, but writing any tidbits of information down gives John something to focus on that isn't this camp, this life that isn't really a life but that isn't death either, just some in-between that John is stuck in, unable to do anything or be useful. One foot in the grave and every day wishing a bit more it was both. In the darkest corner of his mind, he thinks that perhaps his death would save Gale from tiring himself to the bone trying to keep John tethered to Earth. Maybe, at least then, he could be useful to Buck. 

The thought is squashed away almost immediately, guilt crawling in his throat. Those few days after Gale had gone down over Bremen were the worst in John's life. The certainty that he was now a piece of something that would never be whole again, with no home to fight for anymore, had been the most excruciating pain John's ever known. Over the course of just a few months, he’s lost more friends than he can count, each loss cutting deeper. But losing Gale hadn’t just felt like losing a limb. From the moment Red’s distorted voice reached his ears through the phone - “He went down swinging, John” - he was an empty shell walking, his chest hollow with no heart, some vital part of him missing. No matter how miserable this camp makes him, wishing such agony on his best friend, his better half is unbearable. If only to spare Gale any additional pain, he’ll plant both feet in the mud until they stop trying to get him closer to that barbed-wire fence. 

Yet, despite desperately wishing Gale out of harm’s way, his being chained to the dirt with him is John’s saving grace. In the darkness of the Stalag, Gale shines brighter than the North Star, and John fights every day to keep himself from the fog in his head to grasp at this soft golden light. It's easier at night, the weight of Gale in his arms a grounding presence, the distinct smell of him feeling more and more like home, but John is starting to make it through some days always there too. Listening to the radio also helps, especially when most days, it's just him and Gale at the table, the others keeping watch on the guards from outside. Soon it'll be too cold for them to do so without it being suspicious or dangerous for their own health, but for now, John is glad he gets to spend more time alone with Gale. His ma always said he fights tooth and nail for those he loves, and right now, he's desperately grasping at the fading rays of sunlight, selfishness be damned.

Today, the BBC doesn't have any interesting news to keep hold of his attention for long, so he mostly scribbles down what he hears without making sense of the words strung together, too focused on the solid presence of Buck on his right. With both of them being right-handed, it would have been too much of a hindrance to be pressed close enough for their shoulders to touch, but their knees knock together every so often, like silent banter. It sends sparks of warmth down John's spine, the focused tilt of Gale's mouth only amusing him in his boredom. In the past five minutes, he's sent his knee against Gale's in soft presses, alternating between lingering and fleeting touches until the word B-U-C-K is successfully floating in the air, though the man himself seems entirely unaware of it, tongue darting between his lips in concentration. Bucky's debating coding G-A-L-E, just to see if the rare occurrence of his given name will snap the other out of his focus when said man grunts softly as he scribbles, pencil scratching the paper as it nears the edge. John mindlessly hands him a blank piece of paper, more than attuned to all the different ways the other has to ask for something without voicing his desires, eyes trained on the stray blond curl falling on Buck’s forehead. Without lifting his eyes from his piece of paper, Gale extends a pale hand to take John's offering, the contact of their fingers sending a jolt through John's blood. He lets out a yelp, slightly jerking back before diving in to hold Gale's hands between his own, Buck's sound of confusion and protest as his pencil is thrown out of his hold swallowed by John's cursing.

"Jesus, Buck, your hands are fuckin' freezing." John doesn't feel particularly warm but the difference in temperature between both their hands is such that he half-expects the air to start hissing. How Gale can still move his fingers is a mystery to him, and his gut goes tight with worry. Trying to rub warmth back into those hands, John brings them to his face so that he can blow hot air on long fingers. He's deeply aware of how intimate the gesture is, especially in a place like this, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks but he focuses stubbornly on his task. Keeping his eyes on those hands he’s never held so close to his face is a necessary precaution to ensure he doesn’t dismiss any inch of skin in his mission to warm them enough that he doesn’t have to worry about them falling off, and it has the additional effect of allowing John to study them without fearing being caught.

Gale's hands truly are beautiful. They've always been, and in the years he's known the other, John has spent more time than he probably should have admiring them. How they wrap in a strong grip around the yolk to wield a metal fortress effortlessly, how long, slender fingers bring a toothpick to the plump curve of his lips. Calluses on fingers and rough palms that were still so gentle and kind when they tended to John's wounds just a few months ago. Today, they look frail and dry, the knuckles angry red and cracked from the cold. It hurts to even look at them, those hands that were more suited for piano and gently guiding horses across fields now cracked by misery and cold. Acting on an urge, he presses a kiss to the knuckles of both, a silent promise to warm them and get them better, to get them far from weapons and barbed fences, and back to horses and piano and books.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Gale blinking owlishly at him, perfectly still. Between them, the radio crackles, words floating in the air but never making it to any paper. After a few more seconds, Gale's voice rises too, soft despite his usual deep southern drawl.

"I need my hands back, Bucky." John frowns, still rubbing his palms over Gale's hands to warm them. Admittedly, he knows Gale can't write with his foot, even though imagining it almost makes him smile, but really, nothing the BBC is broadcasting right now is worth the risk of Gale losing his hands to the cold. Unconsciously, he brings Gale's hands closer to his face, just shy of nuzzling them with the tip of his nose, already thinking of all the ways he could get them warm. It would be, like many things, easier at night. With the cold, everybody has taken up to sharing a bunk and no one would notice if Gale's hands were pressed to his skin, under his shirt. Even though the thought of those icicles against more sensitive skin than his palms isn't exactly a pleasant one, he'd do it in a heartbeat. For the day, when it would be too risky for John to hold Gale's hands in his pockets, maybe he could find him some gloves, at least make mittens out of socks, to soften the blow of the cold and the sting of the wind. 

"Bucky ?" Eyes snapping to Gale's, he finds him with his head slightly tilted to the side, cheeks red from the cold. It's then he realizes he still has both of Gale's hands in his. The other looks at him and then back at his paper before raising his brows in a silent question, making John huff. Reluctantly, he lets go of Gale's right hand but immediately cradles his left hand on his lap. He hopes Gale will be satisfied with this, but the other keeps looking at him insistently, a fond glint in his eyes but brows slightly furrowed, as if his left hand being held in both of John's is a math problem he can’t solve.

At the silent question, he rolls his eyes and makes a show of putting his own left hand on the upper part of Gale's paper, making sure it doesn't move from its spot on the table. The paper is smooth against his fingertips, contrasting with the rough feel of the wooden table that has given them more than their fair share of splinters on his palm. He misses the feeling of Gale’s hands in his. For a moment, he had felt whole in a way he usually only feels at night. Gale's hand is starting to get warmer in his, the skin rough from the cold, but John has never held something as delicate and precious as it, save for Gale himself.

Resting their joined hands on his lap, he intertwines their fingers and fights down the blush he can feel creeping up his neck, eyes resolutely on the paper in front of the other. There’s no reason to feel nervous, they’ve slept in each other’s arms so often by now it really shouldn’t matter, but something about the fact that this isn’t about survival forces him to take a deep breath before moving. With one slide over the bench, his side is pressed to Gale’s, shoulders rising and falling in tandem. He’s glad to notice that Buck isn’t as cold as his hands, warmth seeping from his side to John’s as rapidly as the tension leaves the set of his shoulders until he’s pressing back into John.

They'll work slower like that but Gale doesn't protest nor take his hand away, only resettling slightly so his thigh also rests against John’s. Tentatively, he risks a glance at Gale and finds him looking down at the table, face still red but from something John has an inkling isn't the cold anymore, biting his bottom lip softly but mouth nonetheless quirked upwards. It takes every ounce of strength and self-restraint in him not to kiss him, to smother the affection blooming in his chest. Instead, after a bit of silence in which he feels he might suffocate on pent-up love, John squeezes Gale's hand in his and the other seems to focus back on his task, startled. Clearing his throat, Gale starts scribbling again, pointedly avoiding looking to his left, but John doesn't mind, a smile spreading his cracked lips, fondness written plain on his face as he doesn’t look away for a second.

On his lap, Gale squeezes his hand back.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Omg I’m literally dying for more princess and bucky

18+ | Please send more asks I love them!! | 18+

They’re literally all I can think about right now anonnie!

I have another lil fic of them festering but while you wait: can you imagine how Bucky would punish her in public.

He can’t do the usual elaborate and strung-out disciplining but Bucky is creative; he knows exactly how to make sure his brat stays in her lane.

One time she got real lippy to a tailor, he’d stitched the dress all wrong, I mean who would even wear something like that? She scoffed at the way it hugged her frame incorrectly and chewed the older man out. Bucky heard the earful from the other side of the door and slid in silently, making sure the tailor didn’t hear him as he leaned against the wall.

A pointed look her way, that’s all the warning Bucky gave, letting her know she’d done fucked up. She suppressed the slight wobble in her legs, chalking it down to ‘the most uncomfortable pair of fucking heels she’d ever graced with her feet’.

“I-I-I’ll help you out” the man spoke, accent running thick as he reached out to help her.

“That won’t be necessary, go take five” Bucky interrupted, voice as smooth and as stable as ever, not a hint of the domineering attitude he held towards Princess, he didn't even react when the tailor squealed like a pig at the sound of his voice.

As soon as the man scurried off Bucky was in her face, middle and ring finger pushing roughly against her plush lips.

“Suck.” He growled but a look of defiance crossed her eyes, she’d been challenging him more recently - he’d let some rules slip unpunished since she was being such a good girl but it only manifested into this.

“You’re gonna want them to be wet Princess” Bucky warned, pinching the back of her arm until she yelped. She gagged roughly as his thick fingers buried themselves to the hilt, running along her tongue, saliva dribbling out the sides of her mouth and joining with blackened tears from her running mascara

“That’s all that fucking mouth is good for, you hear? Think you’re fucking special? Hell no, you ain’t shit, nothing more than a set of fucking holes for me to use and I don’t like my things being such fucking brats” his free hand had made its way up to her neck, thumb squeezing over that point that had her head fuzzy and knees weak.

“You want my cock? Is that what you want…you’ve not had it in a couple of days, is this how you think you’re gonna get it? His digits slipped from her hot cavern, pinching her tongue and pulling on it a little as they fell across her face in a soft, wet slap. His eyebrow raised, face inches away from hers as he waited for her answer.

“I want it..want your cock” fucking whimpering slut, didn’t take for his Princess to fall back into line.

“Oh yeah? You want it? You want it, Princess?” He bucked his hips into her side, his tented slacks running delightfully over her hip and hand.

When she nodded frantically, pushing against him, fingers twitching to touch him, squeeze him - anything, but she knew better - he’d won. He bared his teeth in a smug grin before releasing her entirely.

“Shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled little girl then hmm?” He mocked, moaning softly as he squeezed himself, biting back a wider smile at her whimpering form.

She never did get his cock that night, or the next one, or the next.

- Bonus -

“Please Bucky!! I’m fucking desperate” tears fell from her eyes as her thighs clenched at the shuddering breaths falling from his lips.

He chuckled breathlessly, tongue poking to wet his lips, his throbbing length pulled from his slacks and resting against his shirt, plush red tip drooling all over the material. He sucked up the rest of the brandy from his glass before wrapping a hand around his cock. Her eyes rolled back into her skull at the sight.

“Ah-ah Princess you fucking look at me, I’m gonna please myself and you’re gonna watch… keep those fucking legs open wanna see those panties fucking soak themselves at the sight of me” he couldn’t suppress the mocking laugh that bubbled from his throat at her desperate pleas.

-

Whew lord have merthy 🫠

[navybrat817]

Anything special for Bucky's birthday?

Something small, nonnie.

For Years or for Hours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is the love of your life and deserves to have a peaceful birthday.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I wanted to do something more, but today got away from me. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun had just risen outside of Bucky’s hut in Wakanda, the rays peeking in and beckoning you to wake up and venture out into the world. You weren't ready to rise and meet the day quite yet. Not when Bucky was beside you, holding you in his sleep like you he’d lose you if he loosened his grip. You wouldn't dare disturb his slumber. Not when he more than anyone deserved to rest peacefully.

So you decided to count the freckles on his nose.

“My beautiful man,” you whispered, placing your left hand on his cheek. “Love of my life.”

The wedding band on your ring finger matched his in design, symbols of the never ending love you had for each other. Time stood still and moved all at once when you said “I do”, but forever didn’t start with your wedding day. It began the day you met. Every moment after that paved a path that entwined, neither of you having to walk alone again.

“One,” you whispered, kissing a freckle on the tip of his nose. You’d never get over the sight of him. “Two…”

You didn’t know Bucky had freckles until he was in your face during a training session, the definition of up close and personal. It was right before you shared your first kiss, which was ages ago and felt like yesterday. He rolled on top of you and pinned your arms above your head, his breathing heavy and eyes stormy as you gazed up at him. Instead of trying to break free of his strong hold, you went lax underneath him and smiled.

“Are you yielding?” He asked, releasing one of your wrists when you made no attempt to move.

“Wow. You have freckles,” you exhaled, brushing his soft brown hair back that fell in his eyes. “I never noticed them before.”

It was as if Bucky removed an invisible mask and allowed you to see his true self for the first time before he pressed his lips to yours. It sparked a flame inside of you that no one could ever put out. And if being in love with him taught you anything, it was that masks hid your true selves and built walls to keep others out. You helped each other knock them down.

He was your partner in every sense of the word.

“Mmm. Tickles,” he mumbled as you kept kissing his nose, his voice throaty and low as he opened his eyes. His broad torso rolled as he arched his back and you had to suppress a shiver when he groaned. “Were you counting my freckles again?”

“You caught me,” you whispered, pecking his nose once more and not embarrassed in the slightest. “I can’t help it. You’re so pretty.”

Amusement filled his eyes as he slid a palm down your ribs to your hip. “I thought you were the pretty one in this relationship, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your cheeks warmed at the reminder that you were his wife. “We can both be pretty, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tilting your head back so he could brush his scruff against your neck. You joked once that people called him the White Wolf because he liked to “scent” and leave his mark on you. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“Why should I go back to sleep, hmm?” He asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss over your racing pulse. It was enough to make you whimper when you tried to find your words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You menace,” you moaned, tugging on his hair for good measure, which only made him let out that lustful groan you loved. “Because it’s your birthday and you deserve to sleep in, old man.”

His first birthday as a married man.

“And we won't say how old I am today,” he said, his hair falling in his eyes as he pulled back and smirked. “And I was kind of hoping I'd wake up with my cock in your mouth.”

“Bucky,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to laugh at his admission as the tingle between your thighs grew. Whatever thought was in your mind went away. It didn't matter. All you could imagine were his eyes staring down at you in wonder and ecstasy as you took him in your throat. “You know what? Fine. Your wish is my command.”

You’d please him with whichever hole he wanted to use.

“But I’m awake,” he teased, chuckling when you silenced him with your lips. He didn't let you pull away, feeling as if the hut tilted on its axis as he deepened the kiss you started. It was like your first kiss all over again. The promise of something more.

A lifetime together.

“Pretend you're asleep,” you suggested when you grudgingly pulled away from his sinful lips. “But if Steve and Sam ask, we woke up to watch the sun rise.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed when you smiled, your heart rate picking up. “Don't talk about those punks when you're about to go down on me,” he half growled.

“Yes, White Wolf,” you teased. They would no doubt message him birthday wishes, along with Natasha and a few others, once they were awake. He deserved all the love today and every day.

Before you could kiss down Bucky's body, he stopped you with a gentle grip. “Wait,” he whispered, his eyes searching your face. You didn't know a gaze could be so soft until he looked upon you. This was a man who knew your hopes, dreams, fears.

And loved you all the while.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked when he reached for your left hand.

“I just love you so much, doll,” he said, running his thumb over the ring as your eyes filled with tears. You blinked them away quickly enough to catch his tender smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

When you got home, you’d celebrate his special day in regular fashion. You’d take him to the new science exhibit that he mentioned wanting to see. The two of you would cuddle up to watch his favorite movie after dinner with the gang. He’d eat the cake you baked just for him. And there would be a present or two for him to open before you went to bed.

But the gift he wanted most was to have a day without a reminder of the fight. Where he could breathe in the air, take in the quiet, and feel a sense of peace with the person he loved beside him. You knew the only way to give him that was to get him out of the city and back to his hut. Even if it was only for a short time.

In his sanctuary, he’d find tranquility on his special day and you’d show him how much you loved him. Memories the two of you would carry for a lifetime. Because he gave you the world by asking you to be his and you’d spend forever making him happy. Just like he deserved.

“I love you, too, Bucky Barnes,” you promised, kissing the freckle again on the tip of his nose. “Happy birthday.”

Oh, Bucky. We love him. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[inkedreverie]

im thinking smutty thoughts abt tipsy lil s.r. after an avengers party (that asgardian mead tho)…needy, affectionate, super sensitive, just can’t keep his hands off you 🤤🤤 maybe a little subby streak showing through when you get home and ride him on the couch 🙈

𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve rogers x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After consuming several shots of Asgardian mead, Steve can't keep his hands off of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, unprotected p in v sex, steve being a flirty menace ( yes, that's a warning), fluff at the end, little use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k+

a/n: Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this. I've been wanting to write more Steve fics. I hope you like this!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

Laughter resonated through the air, blending with the clinks of glasses within the walls of The Avenger’s Tower. By tradition, it was Tony Stark who orchestrated these extravagant soirees, yet this time, the honor had befallen Thor. A grand feast adorned the buffet table, showcasing Asgard’s most beloved delicacies, but the centerpiece of it all was an immense pitcher brimming with Asgardian mead.

Remarkably potent, even for a super soldier like him, the alcohol proved to be Bucky’s undoing. After merely three cups, he succumbed to its intoxicating embrace, collapsing right beside Natasha on the couch across from them.

As she surveyed the room, taking in the array of assembled Avengers, Steve’s interjection abruptly interrupted her thoughts.

“Let’s go home, please?” he whispered, his hands roaming over the soft fabric of her dress. Throughout the party, Y/N noticed the mead had affected each person differently. After only two drinks, Steve had become very horny, touching her and kissing her neck.

A small smirk curved on her lips before she turned to face her boyfriend. “Why? I thought you were enjoying the party?” she asked, taking a sip of the mead, allowing the warm sensation to travel down her body as it hit her stomach.

His cheeks heated as his blue eyes stared back at her, and Y/N realized how good he looked in a suit. Even though she did not care for parties or formal affairs, Steve had put much effort into making sure that she looked the part.

Steve’s hand found her waist, bringing her closer to him as he leaned down until their foreheads touched. “We can stay if you’d like.” He whispered, and the smell of liquor on his breath made her smile grow wider.

Her hands traced the outline of the muscles along his chest. She could see how dark the blue irises of his eyes became, dilated by the drink, and she noticed his arousal growing against his slacks.

“Actually,” he said in between kisses on her bare shoulder. “Maybe we should just find a bedroom so I can take you now...”

She chuckled as he nipped lightly at the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, causing a pleasant shudder down her spine. “I think I need to get you home.”

“Sounds great!” He pulled away, grinning from ear-to-ear and placed another kiss upon her lips before guiding her toward the exit with an arm around her waist.

The alcohol had made Steve unusually enthusiastic about leaving the party, especially since this was one of Thor’s infamous shindigs.

However, as soon as they got in the elevator, he found himself pinning her against one of the walls, his tongue hungrily devouring her mouth. It took all of Y/N’s power to pull herself away and push him back.

As soon as the elevator reached the ground floor, he grabbed hold of her arm and began dragging her behind him, practically running toward their car.

“Are you forgetting we still have to drive home?” she joked, giggling softly as their footsteps reverberated off the cement and throughout the parking garage.

She unlocked the vehicle with her key fob and before she could open the door; he turned to kiss her once more. His lips pressed passionately against hers, making her almost forget her purpose. Finally pulling away, she laughed loudly, pushing at his broad chest. “Hop in!”

In response, Steve released a long moan as she pushed him harder until he landed on the passenger side. She quickly went around and jumped into the driver’s seat before buckling herself. But before she even managed to start the car, she felt him run his fingers up her bare leg, starting at the top of her thigh and tracing his way toward the hemline of her panties.

She groaned but not in annoyance, and glanced briefly over to Steve, who sat there patiently smiling mischievously as though he’d already guessed correctly what would happen next.

“Just hurry home, will you?” he teased playfully, removing his hand and placing it on his knee. She shot him a mock glare and placed her foot on the accelerator, driving faster than she usually did, careful to stay within the speed limit.

A few minutes later, he placed his palm atop her knee and slowly trailed his touch upwards, sliding beneath the bottom half of her dress while moving along the skin of her thigh. Immediately, goosebumps rose upon her flesh, and her whole body trembled violently despite the fact he had yet to reach anything remotely dangerous.

Her breathing quickened as her heart rate increased dramatically, and she sucked in a shaky breath when she noticed he still continued traveling upward until, finally, he halted.

She clenched her teeth when he ran two fingers gently over the area where her thighs met her pelvis, right above where she desperately needed friction.

When she refused to react, he chuckled lowly, leaning forward so that his lips hovered near her ear, then nibbled at the outer shell before whispering huskily. "You know, you look so good wearing this outfit, but I can't wait to tear it off."

They stopped at a red light. She looked over at him, shooting him another warning glare. “Steve,” she said between breaths. Then she realized it was pointless because he was clearly enjoying torturing her.

“Yes?” He asked innocently, arching an eyebrow, although she suspected he knew exactly what she was going to say. In response, her entire being shook with arousal once more as she tightened her grip around the steering wheel, willing the damned traffic light to change soon.

When it did, she pressed her foot down firmly, her car racing down the highway. All she wanted to do was make it home, but he made that impossible.

She’d been so busy staring at the road that she didn’t notice how his fingers slid past the silky fabric of her panties and into the drenched valley between her legs until she heard him growl, satisfied.

His fingertip brushed lightly across her slit before he drew them back out and slipped the digit inside of her aching core. She gasped loudly, losing all concentration on the task at hand.

Instead, she focused solely on the feeling of his fingers circling around her entrance, spreading the moisture from her pussy as far as possible and coating every inch of her cunt until everything burned deliciously with need.

Steve’s voice broke the silence once again. “Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon.”

“S-Steve, you’re gonna make me wreck the car,” she whimpered, and she thought to herself, damn the alcohol. He withdrew completely, pressing down on her clitoris hard enough that it caused another wave of intense pleasure to flow through her body.

He remained silent for the rest of the journey back to their apartment. When she finally parked outside of their building, she let out a deep sigh of relief before grabbing hold of the keys and shoving them into her purse.

Her hands shook as she grasped hold of the bag strap and made haste to get out of the vehicle as quickly as she could. As she stepped onto solid ground, he yanked the keys from her hand before locking the car doors.

She spun around to glare at him as he tossed the keys back inside of her bag before throwing it over his shoulder and wrapping an arm tightly around her waist. His other palm grasped firmly onto hers as they hurried up towards the floor of the complex.

Upon reaching their residence, she nearly slammed the door behind them while he leaned against it. She breathed heavily as she watched him remove his suit jacket, folding it neatly before hanging it over the knob of their closet. Then he proceeded to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, removing his belt before slipping off his shoes.

“Never tease me like that again,” she growled before leaning up and kissing him roughly.

A sly smirk formed on his lips, revealing perfect white teeth. “You loved it, sweetheart, don’t try to lie.”

His words elicited a low moan as she tugged him back down for a searing kiss. Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck and into his hair, tugging harshly as she dragged her nails down his chest. He shivered against her touch as he kissed along the exposed flesh of her throat.

“I need you. Badly.” His hands gripped at her hips as he stumbled back near the couch. With one swift movement, he sat down, pulling her down on his lap and straddling him.

Y/N whimpered into the kiss while wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning closer to his firm muscles. She felt his bulge brush against her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine as she ground her body against his groin.

A groan escaped from his lips when she began thrusting her pelvis into his abdomen, causing her wetness to spread against the front of his pants, making him groan louder in frustration. Suddenly, he pulled away, holding her at arm’s length.

She immediately whined loudly, feeling deprived, but when he brought a single finger to trace her lips, she ceased protesting. She glanced at him curiously, noting how his pupils dilated with lust as he stared deeply into her eyes.

Slowly, he moved both hands to rest atop either side of her ass before squeezing firmly. When she gasped in surprise, he grinned devilishly.

“I need you.” Steve whispered, hands trailing up her sides as if he was trying to memorize every curve and dip. He leaned in to suck a mark upon her jawline, licking a stripe down her neck that sent chills racing up and down her body.

He hummed softly into her ear, enjoying the reaction he’d gotten, continuing his exploration, mapping out every inch of bare flesh he could reach, savoring every little moan that came tumbling from her mouth. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, unable to stop the moans erupting from deep within her chest.

Her body seemed to respond on autopilot, arching itself against him in desperate desire, silently begging him. She slowly reached down to unzip his slacks, and he moaned appreciatively, leaning back, watching her movements intently.

He smiled up at her, looking much happier than he should considering how much mead he’d ingested. The expression on his face warmed her heart, making butterflies flutter in her stomach, even though she tried not to let them overwhelm her.

She bit her bottom lip softly as she slowly tugged down his pants, leaving only his boxer shorts. His erection was extremely noticeable under the soft fabric, and she couldn’t resist palming him gently through the thin material.

“Please,” He whined into her ear, bucking his hips upward against her hand. His head tilted backward, and he sighed softly as her fingers dipped below his waistband and began stroking his thick cock.

She couldn’t believe how smooth and soft it felt in her hand, and how hard he really was underneath all that silkiness. His tip leaked pre-cum, which coated her fingers.

She wrapped her hand around the base of him, twisting her fist slightly as she pumped up and down. His breathing grew labored and his chest heaved erratically. “Ugh, baby, I can’t- please..” Steve moaned, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushions.

With another stroke, his whole body spasmed, and a small cry escaped his parted lips. His eyes squeezed shut as his face scrunched together, appearing strained. It appeared he struggled to hold himself back, yet she felt his muscles flex involuntarily every time she stroked him just right.

After several strokes, she let go entirely, much to his disappointment, and crawled up closer until her knees pressed against his legs, bringing their bodies flush against one another.

He opened his eyes lazily and gazed at her adoringly before leaning up to kiss her passionately, his tongue plunging into her mouth and exploring eagerly. She moaned into his mouth before she pushed her panties to the side, positioning his cock at her entrance.

She sank down until he bottomed out. They moaned simultaneously as he filled her completely, stretching her tight walls with his girth. She braced herself on his chest, giving herself leverage to rock her body back and forth.

He gripped her thighs, helping to keep her steady as she rode him. The sensation of his hands rubbing against her heated skin excited her. Each stroke sent tingles throughout her entire being, making goosebumps erupt across her arms.

Steve didn’t know if it was still the mead coursing through his veins or if it was her, but he needed this. He needed her. He needed more, and more, than he currently had.

His arms wrapped around her waist, holding onto her like he was clinging for dear life, and maybe he was. He pulled her tightly against himself, burying his face in her neck as he thrust upward, pumping furiously into her. He groaned into her neck as he licked and sucked at her skin.

His body trembled, straining, as he fought back the urge to release too early. He clenched his jaw, concentrating solely on pleasing her instead of focusing solely on his own pleasure. He loved hearing the sounds she made, gasping for air, mumbling incoherent things. “Steve, baby. Come in me. I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, thrusting his cock hard against her cunt. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her down as he pumped frantically into her wet heat, chasing after her orgasm. He felt it building within her as well. He could tell by the way her breath caught in her throat every time he plunged deeply into her pussy.

The way her back arched perfectly when he brushed along her sensitive spot. She whimpered, crying out in ecstasy as her muscles tightened, milking him for everything he could possibly give her.

And finally, when she threw her head back and screamed out his name, he let himself cum deep inside of her. He shuddered violently against her chest, filling her completely. He grunted as he emptied his load, coating her inner walls. After riding out his climax, they both collapsed onto each other.

Her forehead rested upon his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat as he struggled to regain his normal breathing pattern.

She snuggled close, resting her cheek against his strong shoulders as they both basked in their post-orgasm high. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head affectionately.

After a few moments, he spoke, breaking the silence, “I love you.”

The three words held meaning, yet there was something new about them tonight, as if they had transformed somehow, becoming deeper and fuller than they usually did when spoken in everyday conversations.

She lifted her face to look at him, a smile playing across her lips.

He studied her features closely, noticing how hot and sweaty her skin glistened with the aftermath of sex. He admired how beautiful and angelic she appeared lying upon him, looking down at him with such intense love radiating in her eyes. “What?” She asked curiously.

He cupped her cheek and caressed her tenderly. His expression softened into an affectionate grin that warmed her heart. She could hear the fondness in his voice as he uttered, “You are perfect.”

A soft chuckle escaped her mouth before she nuzzled against his palm lovingly. She turned her attention towards their tangled limbs and whispered, “No...not quite perfect...”

His brows knitted together as he furrowed his brows. “I disagree.”

“Hmmm, care to elaborate?”

He pressed a gentle kiss against her brow, then brushed aside stray strands of hair behind her ear. He gazed upon her face, taking in every detail; his hand trailed down her temple.

“Perfect beauty.” He murmured softly as he stroked his fingers along her jawline, causing Y/N to giggle. She kissed him, allowing herself to be lost in the warmth of his embrace. “I think you’re still drunk on Thor’s mead,” she teased, making Steve chuckle.

“Maybe so,” He admitted before lowering his lips to her ear, brushing the lobe between his teeth and sucking lightly. “But you, my gorgeous girl, are most definitely the definition of perfection.” She sighed softly, melting into his touch as he trailed his fingertips across her back, massaging her tense muscles.

“What if I wasn’t perfect?” She mumbled into his shoulder.

His fingers paused as they stroked over the curve of her ass, pausing as he contemplated her question.

Her body tensed as she felt nervousness rise within her, wondering whether or not he’d truly accept her imperfections.

A low rumble of laughter escaped from deep within his belly before he released her from his grasp and sat upright. He took her hand between his own and gazed deeply into her eyes. “If that were true, I’d still love you,” He stated assuredly before he leaned forward, placing a delicate peck against her lips.

“And no amount of liquor would ever change my feelings towards you, Y/N. Because if perfection is unattainable, then I wouldn’t want it. And neither do I need it, because nothing is worth being without you.”

Y/N sniffled, swallowing back tears, fighting desperately to keep her emotions from pouring out.

Steve cupped her cheeks between his palms before he brushed his thumb softly beneath her eye, wiping away stray droplets.

She inhaled deeply and smiled shakily, “I love you so much,” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but he didn’t seem to mind, returning her warm gaze with one of equal affection.

She rested her forehead against his, inhaling his scent and savoring the closeness. The room filled with the aroma of musk and sex, which she found comforting despite the fact that it reminded her how filthy they’d become.

Steve ran his thumb across her lips tenderly before he captured her mouth again, kissing her deeply, tasting her sweetness on his tongue. She moaned softly into his embrace, tangling her fingers in his hair as she pulled him closer, letting him engulf her entirely.

His tongue explored her cavern thoroughly while his hands traveled down her torso, resting at her hips, feeling the outline of her curves beneath her dress.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers before whispering hoarsely, “Let’s clean up and get ready for bed.”

She nodded in agreement, and with his help, she managed to stand up on wobbly legs, stumbling towards the bathroom. He chuckled lightly and steadied her, holding her firmly by the waist as he guided her towards their bedroom. She collapsed upon the bed, exhausted, barely registering when he disappeared into the bathroom, returning several minutes later with a damp towel in his hand.

He crawled onto the bed, straddling her body as he wiped away the remnants of their passion.

She lay motionless, allowing him to clean her thoroughly before tossing the towel aside and pulling back the comforter. He scooped her up in his arms and placed her gently under the covers, snuggling beside her.

She gazed up at him adoringly, admiring how his blonde locks fell across his forehead, framing his face perfectly. He smiled sweetly at her before leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

As her eyelids grew heavy and she felt sleep creeping in, she whispered softly, “I love you.”

He smiled back at her, his blue eyes sparkling brightly. “I love you too, baby.” He whispered back, stroking her hair lovingly.

Y/N sighed in contentment as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of Steve’s arms, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, making her feel safe and loved. She smiled softly as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, her heart fluttering with happiness.

dividers: @.cafekitsune

[nicoline1998enilocin]

The beginning of the end...?

Pairing ⇒ Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader x Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes

Word count ⇒ 5.6K

Summary ⇒ Steve and Bucky are planning on proposing, but as they're doing this, they don't realize the two of them are giving you the feeling you're not worthy of them. As soon as they find out, their behavior completely changes, and before you know it, you have two super soldiers down on their knees, asking you to marry them.

Rating ⇒ Explicit (E)

Warnings ⇒ Polyamorous relationship, use of nicknames (Princess, Printsessa),

Angst ⇒ Hurt/comfort, references to anxiety and insecurity.

Smut ⇒ MMF threesome, D/S undertones, sensory play/deprivation (blindfold), discussion of safewords, size kink, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), nipple play, fingering (anal/vaginal), double penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, implied aftercare

Request ⇒ Anon I don’t know if you write this but could you maybe write a story about bucky x Steve x y/n or reader what you prefer. That they are in a relationship but reader feels left out because Steve and bucky go way back together so she thinks they wanne break up while the boys are planning to propose. So reader distance herself more and more while the boys have no clue. In the end they propose to her but I want a good angsty/ fluff story

A/n -> Thank you so much for this beautiful request, sweet Nonnie! I want to thank @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me develop the title, and I want to say thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for helping me whilst writing this, as well as for your feedback while proofreading. You helped me bring this fic to the next level, and I deeply appreciate it! ❤️

A/n 2.0 ⇒ My requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again ❤️

Events Masterlist ⇒ @buckybarnesevents ⇒ BaBB061: December ⇒ Sensory Play/ Deprivation Masterlist ⇒ @stuckybingo ⇒ Kink: Size kink Masterlist ⇒ @lgbtqbingo ⇒ Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers Masterlist ⇒ @marvel-smash-bingo ⇒ ''I love to see you lying there like that.''

Banners: @vase-of-lilies ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ Photo: Source

Main Masterlist ⇒ Stucky Masterlist

Something between the three of you has shifted. You don't know how, why, or when, but it has. And with that, your anxiety has gone through the roof as well. Steve and Bucky have been spending more time with each other than with you lately, which is strange since they usually can't keep their hands off of you, or each other for that matter. Even though all three of you still sleep in the same bed at night, it doesn't feel the same and you're starting to feel like a third wheel in your relationship. After all, they've known each other for almost a century.

You're watching a movie with only Steve because Bucky is on an undercover mission and is unreachable for at least a week. However, even though you have chosen the movie, you're not watching it. Your eyes look at the TV, but your brain doesn't register what's happening as you're so lost in your thoughts.

"Is everything okay, Princess?" Steve asks when he notices you've been zoned out for a while.

"Yeah, just tired," you say and fake a yawn, getting up to go to bed despite still being early in the evening. Steve looks at you with worry when you stand, but he leaves it be for now; he figures that if something's wrong, you'll come to him.

"Okay, sleep well, Princess," he says in a soft, defeated voice, and your heart aches at the sound, but you will your legs to walk to the bedroom and curl into the comforter on your bed. Not long after, you feel the mattress dip beside you, and Steve cuddles up to you under the heavy comforter. You let out a small sigh as you feel his muscular chest press against your back. Steve places a few soft kisses on your shoulder before he whispers something to you, under the impression you're asleep.

"I love you, Princess. I'm sorry we have to do it this way, but it'll be for the best," he says. With those words, he lays his head down, and you're fighting against your tears. This confirms it for you. He's just being nice to you now because Bucky's not here, waiting for him to return so they can break up with you together. It'll always be them against the world, and they don't have a place inside that world for you.

To save yourself from most of the pain, you decide to spend more time with others or alone in your room instead of with Steve, and while you notice the sad look on his face, he also doesn’t come to you.

"Princess, can we talk for a minute?" Steve asks as you walk into the kitchen to grab some breakfast. He's leaning against the counter in tight sweatpants and an even tighter shirt. You feel a wave of arousal course through your veins and between your legs, as you look him up and down, admiring his physique. You don’t let it distract you from the matter as you prepare for the talk he’s about to have with you.

"Sure, Steve," you say with a slight smile, hoping it looks sincere.

When you have your breakfast ready, he leads you to your bedroom, where you sit on your couch. He takes his place next to you, almost taking up half the sofa with the broad shoulders you love so much -where you scrape your nails when he's fucking your brains out. But that's not what you're thinking of right now, no. Right now, you're bracing yourself for what's to come; the inevitable is here, you think.

"As you know, Bucky is coming home from the mission tomorrow, and I was thinking of surprising him with a relaxing evening with the three of us. A nice home-cooked dinner, a relaxing bath, maybe even a blanket fort and a movie," he says as he looks at you expectantly.

"I- I think I have plans tomorrow night, sorry," you say, and you look at your food, unable to look Steve in the eye right now because if you do, you're sure he'd see that you're not telling the truth.

"Princess, can you please look at me?" Steve asks in a soft voice, and that's what pushes you over the edge, the tears streaming down your face while you sob uncontrollably. Steve reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, whispering soothing words and kissing you again on your temple.

"It's okay, Princess, I've got you," he says, and you can't help but feel incredibly guilty that he's doing this.

"C'mon, let's get a little more comfortable on the bed," he says as he lifts you up and carries you there before sitting with you in his lap. The two of you stay like that until you calm down and surrender to his warmth, feeling safe in his strong arms.

"I'm sorry…" you croak out, and it's a good thing he has super soldier hearing otherwise, you doubt he would hear you.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Princess," he says as he wipes your tears, and after a little while, you agree to welcome Bucky home tomorrow night, just like you always do when one or both of them come home from a mission.

Bucky is coming home today, and you feel both happy and anxious. What if he doesn't greet you the same way he always does? Or what if he only wants to see Steve? Your mind is going into overdrive the closer he gets to finally being home, but you're trying to keep yourself together, not wanting to breakdown like you did with Steve yesterday. When the Quinjet is on approach, you shoot Steve a quick text to see if he's coming, but he says he's wrapped up in a meeting for a while and that you can go alone, so you do.

As you walk to the hangar, you ball your fists up by your sides to relieve some of the anxiety you're feeling, but all you do is break the skin and leave crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You hope Bucky won't see them. When the Quinjet lands and Bucky walks out, you see him searching for both you and Steve. If he's disappointed only to be greeted by you, he doesn't show it. He runs over to you with a slight jog and a smile on his face before picking you up and hugging you tightly.

"Hi, Printsessa! I can't believe how much I've missed you these past few weeks, and I'm sorry I couldn't contact you sooner," he says as he puts you down and grabs your face softly with his big, calloused hands.

"I love you so much, and I can't wait for our blanket fort tonight," he continues before capturing your lips in a soft kiss, which quickly turns passionate as you let yourself melt into Bucky's touch. When he pulls away, you’re smiling too. You're happy he's home because seeing Bucky somehow makes you forget all your anxieties for just a moment or two.However, as you walk back to the Compound, and Bucky tries to hold your hand, you pull away and he stops dead in his tracks, looking at you with a raised brow. Shit.

"What's going on, Printsessa? Did you hurt your hand or something?" he asks and with a small tear rolling down your face, you unfold the palms of your hands, showing him the damage you've done to them. You don't know how or why, but Bucky seems to catch onto things a lot faster than Steve did, as he immediately figures out it's because they have been spending less time with you lately.

"Is- Is this because of us? Because Steve and I are busier with work lately?" he asks softly. He told Steve this was likely to happen and now that it has he feels worse than ever. With a slight nod, you wordlessly answer his question, and his heart feels like it is shattering as he clutches you to his chest. He holds you as close as he can and repeatedly says the word ‘sorry’.

"I-It's okay," you croak out, still crying into his chest. Suddenly, you feel a powerful, broad chest against your back and one more pair of warm hands rubbing your sides to calm you down. Although you don’t see it, Bucky shoots Steve a look of ’I told you so!’ over your shoulder. They're both feeling sorry, even though this was the only way to organize the extraordinary thing they have planned for you.

"Shall we go inside, and take a bath together, Printsessa? After that, we can build the blanket fort, watch a movie, and cuddle," Bucky offers. You nod into his chest, but you're not letting him go, so he picks you up with no effort and carries you inside.

Bathtime with your two super soldiers is always lovely, especially since you have a custom bathtub  that fits all three of you perfectly. Steve lets the water run and puts some of your favorite scented bubbles in while Bucky undresses you with kisses on each piece of skin that he reveals.

"God, I can't believe I've missed out on this for so long, Printsessa," he says, and you can't help but preen because of his words. As his lips find your pulse point, sucking softly but still hard enough to leave a bruise, you let out a small moan.

His hands are squeezing the flesh of your butt and spreading them at the same time, giving Steve a little show as he undresses you. Both of them are incredibly hard and when you feel both their dicks press against your body, you can't help but throw your head back against Steve's shoulder.

"Please," you beg softly, although you’re unsure what you're actually begging for. Both men decide not to make you wait any longer, so Steve pulls you close to his chest while Bucky sinks to his knees in front of you. At the sight of Bucky ready to worship you, you clench around nothing, and Steve's warm breath by your ear makes goosebumps appear across your neck. His arms are hooked under yours, cupping both your breasts as Bucky lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder before diving into your dripping pussy. You moan loudly.

"Look at that, Princess, look at how perfect he looks between these delicious thighs of yours," Steve growls in your ear, and it all only serves to arouse you even further, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His fingers find your pebbled nipples, rolling and tugging them, drawing soft whines from your lips. Bucky has both of your thighs in a grip that's sure to leave bruises, but the slight discomfort only leaves you wanting more. More of him. More of Steve. More of everything.

"God, you're just such an easy little slut for us, aren't you? We get you naked, and suddenly, you're like a lost puppy who doesn't know what to do," Steve drawls with a slight smirk. At the same time, Bucky lets his tongue alternate between dipping into your entrance and stimulating your clit, until you're right on the edge. That's when he pulls away without any warning.

"You didn't think we'd let you cum that easy, did you?" Bucky teases, and you can feel the disappointment washing over you. However, it doesn't last long because Steve's lips find their way onto your neck as his hands wander to your waist before turning you around to face him.

"Don't worry, Princess, we'll make up for it in the bath, but you'll have to trust us, alright? We’ll make you feel like you're flying. We’ll make love to you until all you can think about is Bucky and me giving you more pleasure than you ever thought you could feel," he tells you, his bright blue eyes sparkling at the thought of what's to come. However, just as you think he's about to lead you into the bath, he reaches for something on the counter that you didn't see earlier: a blindfold.

"If you're okay with it, I'm going to blindfold you when we're in the bath. We’ll be constantly with you, and make sure nothing happens that you're not okay with, Princess. We’re going to use the traffic light system for this. Can you explain what it means?" he asks patiently, and you nod in response.

"Green means that I'm good, that you can continue what you're doing, and that I'm enjoying it. Yellow means that I might be getting uncomfortable with something, so we stop and have a check-in to see what we can do differently before continuing. Red means I have reached a limit and that I want to stop with what we're doing. This will end the entire scene for everyone, and we’ll move on to aftercare," you tell him, just like you have done so many times before.

Despite this, Steve and Bucky want you to say it to them, whether you're just with one of them or all three of you are together. They’re always mindful of your well-being, both physical and emotional, and they keep an extra eye out for you during moments like these.

''Good girl,'' Bucky tells you and with that all three of you get into the bath. They let you get used to the warmth of the water and softness of the bubbles first, the blindfold still lying on the small table next to the large tub.You're leaning against Steve's chest with your legs stretched out and Bucky gently massages your feet to relax you. They want all your anxiety gone, your mind eased.

Steve joins in, his skilled hands slowly massaging your thighs and a groan falls from your lips when he finds a rather sensitive spot, making him smirk. After they massage your limbs for another ten to fifteen minutes, the two super soldiers share a look,Steve immediately knowing what Bucky is thinking. Bucky leans forward, happily pulling you into his lap and getting you settled as he peppers your neck and jaw with kisses and love bites.

''Are you ready, Printsessa? Steve is going to blindfold you when you're ready, and we're hoping you can take both of us today at the same time. How do you feel about that?'' Bucky explains to you as he looks at you, happy when he doesn’t find any sign of discomfort on your face.

''I feel good about it, Bucky; I want to feel both of you inside me,'' you reply, and immediately after, you're blindfolded, the world around you entirely dark. You can hear the soft background music that Steve turned on, and you can feel two sets of hands roaming over your body. Bucky's metal hand is a stark contrast to his flesh one, even in the water as they roam over your thighs before slipping between them, finding your clit effortlessly.

You gasp at the feeling of the metal on your sensitive nub, and you arch your back, pressing your bare breasts against his chest; your butt is now presented beautifully for Steve, who has both of his hands kneading the flesh as he enjoys the sight in front of him. Your hole is on display, but before he moves to work you open, he needs to hear your consent first.

''Color?'' he asks, and you reply with an immediate green. He reaches to the side of the tub and retrieves a small bottle of silicone-based lube. He flips the top open with his thumb, and you softly gasp at the click. Steve squirts some onto his fingers, ready to start opening you up. He moves his hand to your rim with a soft hum, massaging it with his fingertips until it is relaxed enough to push the tip of his index finger in, working you open slowly. Bucky moves his hand from your clit to your entrance, pushing in two fingers at once. The pleasure you were already feeling heightens immensely.

''Look at you, Printsessa, you're doing so good for us,'' Bucky tells you as he keeps visually checking in with Steve. They know you can handle it but don't want to overwhelm you, so they're extra careful with you. They're both big and they don't want to hurt you accidentally, so caution is necessary. When Steve manages to slip a second lubed finger into you, you wince, and both men immediately stop everything they're doing.

''Color?'' Steve asks. 

''Yellow,'' you breathe out. You're having to adjust to him being inside you, but the blindfold over your eyes is making everything more intense.

''I-I need to adjust a little, with the blindfold- I'm just a little more nervous than usual,'' you tell them, and they understand. You take a few deep breaths, giving your body time to get used to what your boyfriends are doing. As you relax, you tell them you’re ‘green,’ and they carefully pick up where they left off. More pleasure blooms through your abdomen as Bucky works a third finger into your pussy, and a loud moan escapes from you as your nails dig into his shoulders.

''Fuck! You both feel so good inside of me,'' you tell them with a broad smile, and you even begin to rock yourself back and forth now that the nerves have disappeared and your confidence has increased. While you were still a little on edge at first, you've now found your footing, and you can feel your orgasm building once more.

''Yeah? Just imagine how you feel when we're both buried deep inside of you, Printsessa, both of our cocks splitting you open as you fall apart on them. Thrusting in and out before we fill you up until both of your holes are dripping with our cum,'' Bucky tells you, and you moan at his words, wanting nothing more than to be filled by them.

''Are you going to cum for us, Princess? Are you cumming on our fingers?'' Steve growls behind you, and with a scream of their names you do, your boyfriends working you through your orgasm with expert precision. They praise you endlessly and prepare you for what's to come. When you come down from your high and are ready for what’s next, Bucky slides down into the bath until the water reaches his shoulders.You straddle him, finding the perfect position so that Steve can also slide in.

''How's this, Printsessa? Are you comfortable?'' Bucky asks, your hands resting on his chest for balance. It's not uncomfortable, but the shift requires you to adjust slightly to avoid falling over onto Bucky.

''Perfect,'' you tell him, and he leans up to kiss you softly. As he does, you hear a soft growl coming from Steve behind you. Your ass has lifted slightly, now only just beneath the surface, as he's admiring where he's about to slide into in a few moments.

''I love to see you lying there like that,'' Steve tells you, and you smile into the kiss with Bucky. When you pull away and sit down, you can feel his length between your thighs, now grown to total hardness. Steve reaches into the water to find Bucky's cock and lube it up; they don’t want to hurt you, after all. Bucky lets out a loud moan as Steve strokes his hand up and down a few times before lining Bucky’s cock up with your pussy. The sensation of his tip against your clit makes you moan as well. Your head falls back as you sink down onto Bucky's length, feeling it stretch you inch by inch.

''Color?'' Steve asks as you sink to the hilt, Bucky's tip hitting your sweet spot.It makes you see stars and your nails scratch his chest in an attempt to ground yourself.

''So fucking green,'' you bite out as you start to grind down on Bucky, whose hands are on your hips to guide your movements. With every thrust back in, you can feel Bucky everywhere, and the fact you can't see makes the experience ten times better. Steve is enjoying the sight in front of him as he generously spreads the lube over his cock. He has ensured you’re adequately prepped, but it will still be a stretch, and he wants it to be pleasurable for you both. After a few minutes of slow grinding on Bucky’s cock, you feel Steve's hands stopping you. He lines himself up to your other hole, which welcomes him in with little resistance.

A loud groan leaves Steve's lips as he carefully thrusts into you, keeping a close eye on your reactions as your body gets used to him. Bucky's eyes are trained on your face as well and he gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear. Your chest heaves up and down at the feeling of both men filling you, but the pleasure only intensifies with every passing second. When Steve slides all the way in with a groan, both men still for a moment, letting you adjust again.

''What's your color?'' Bucky asks you. The blindfold is slightly damp from the sweat dripping off your forehead, but you wouldn't change this moment for the world. Your mouth is slack as you get used to the feeling of fullness; being taken like this by your boyfriends isn't something to take lightly, after all.

''Green,'' you tell them eventually, and with that, Steve sets a slow pace that has all three of you moaning loudly as pleasure courses through your bodies. It doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge of another orgasm; your body was already near the edge from the time Bucky had slid in. With a long, broken moan, you work yourself over their cocks, trying to be the one to set the pace even though you barely have the strength to hold yourself up. 

''Let us do the work, Printsessa; you relax. Just enjoy how we make you feel,'' Bucky says, and you nod. You let yourself sink against him, and Steve slides out to change positions, too, so he can be the one to do most of the work right now. He doesn't mind, and as he slides back in with ease, he almost immediately sets a pace that makes both you and Bucky moan loudly.

''Look at you, Princess, your tight holes are welcoming us so beautifully.You look so perfect between us as we fuck you into oblivion,'' Steve says. You’re so small that your body is now completely covered by both men. Steve can feel himself throb inside you, his orgasm nearing fast now and a glance at Bucky lets him know the other man feels the same. It doesn't take long for them to cum inside you, filling you with every last drop of their cum. Once their breathing returns to normal, they carefully pull out, one after the other.

They shift you so that your back is against Steve's chest at the side of the tub, and Bucky kneels in front of you. His long, skilled fingers untie the knot behind your head with ease, and when the blindfold falls away, you look into his eyes, which are filled with love.

''Welcome back, Printsessa,'' he says before kissing your lips gently. 

After your bath, all three of you step out of the tub, and your boyfriends dry you off before seeing to themselves. Bucky picks you up, towel and all, and carries you to the bed for much-needed cuddles. When he puts you down, he dresses you in a pair of panties and one of his henleys. He grabs a pair of sweatpants for himself while Steve gets the blanket fort ready to celebrate another successful mission.

''We're fortunate to have you as our girlfriend, you know that?'' Bucky says, peppering your face with kisses as you sit sideways on his lap, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns on his Vibranium arm. You're about to say something in return, but Steve walks back in, and you can't help but glance at his abs, his sweatpants hanging below them.

''Who's ready for some blanket fort cuddles?'' Steve asks, and you jump off Bucky's lap, racing toward it. They always allow you to go in first so you can find the most comfortable spot, but they follow you quickly, ready to watch a movie and unwind together. Not a single worry plagues your mind, and the anxieties you felt over the last few weeks have all melted away. They didn't want to get rid of you, after all.

"Printsessa?" Bucky says as you're curled up in the big armchair in the living room, your Kindle lying on your lap as you read the latest Stephen King novel. You look up at him with a soft smile, which he returns and then walks your way. He crouches in front of you, his metal hand rubbing your knee soothingly and he looks into your eyes with his beautiful blue ones. A wave of warmth runs through your body as you look back at him.

"I want to treat you to a spa day to thank you for everything you do for us. From keeping us safe during missions to being the best, sweetest, caring, and most beautiful girlfriend we could wish for. We're lucky to call you ours, and you deserve a day to relax and let yourself be taken care of," he tells you.

"A-Are you sure? You don't have to do that," you tell him, your hand going to his cheek, your fingers gliding over the stubble. The caress earns you a soft groan as Bucky’s eyes close, allowing the feeling of your fingers to quiet his mind a little bit. He's still feeling bad about how they made you feel, and even though they're trying to do better, they still have a few more things to organize, which is Bucky's ulterior motive for sending you on the spa day.

"I know, but you deserve it, Printsessa. How about this: You make a girls' day of it with Nat and Wanda, and then we'll go out for dinner afterward. Nothing over the top, but we can make it a date night with you, me, and Steve," he offers. You nod in response. It does sound like a good idea.

"Alright, I'll go ask if they have time for a spa day soon," you tell Bucky before getting up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and standing on your tiptoes to reach his mouth for a kiss. As soon as you feel his soft, plush lips on yours, warmth spreads through your veins, and his hands pull you against his body as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue swipes over your upper lip, asking for entrance, which you happily grant before feeling it against yours, moving in unison in a slow, passionate dance. A soft whine escapes your lips as he pulls away, as you don't want this moment to be over yet.

"I think there's someone who would like some attention as well, Printsessa," he whispers in your ear before you see Steve leaning against the doorframe, blocking the way into the living room where you and Bucky are still standing by the armchair, your Kindle long forgotten on the armrest.

You beckon Steve over, and he happily complies. You place your hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to meet you halfway for a kiss in which you're more than happy to take the lead. He follows your motions effortlessly, and when you finally pull away, you have a little difficulty catching your breath as you look into his eyes.

"I love you both so much, but now I'm going to find Nat and Wanda because I have a spa day to plan!" you say before giving each of them a peck on their lips and heading out the living room, on your way to meet your two fellow Avengers. As you turn around to say goodbye, you see that both super soldiers have found their place in the large armchair, having their own moment, and you look at them with adoration, wondering how you got so lucky to have these two super soldiers as your boyfriends.

You're at the nail salon with Natasha and Wanda a week later, deciding what design to put on your nails. Bucky and Steve have told you to get them done however you want, no matter the price, and you decide to go with a set of blue chrome nails. Wanda opts for a red set to match Vision, and Nat goes for sharp, black nails to suit her aesthetic.

When you’re all done, the three of you head to the shops for some clothes.Luckily, you don't have to go far to find the perfect dress to wear to dinner with your boyfriends. In a store window, you see a beautiful black velvet dress that immediately draws your attention, and you decide to go and try it on.

''It fits like a glove!'' you tell both girls as you walk out of the dressing rooms, and their jaws hit the floor as they look at you. You walk out of the store shortly after, not only with the dress but also with a pair of simple black heels to go with it. You're very excited to show Steve and Bucky your new outfit, but they’ll have to wait until just before going to dinner.

''I'm sure you won't make it out of the Compound looking like that. At least you wouldn't if I were your partner,'' Natasha says, giving you a massive boost of confidence. By the time the three of you are heading back to the Avengers Compound, where Bucky and Steve are making the last changes to the proposal, it’s almost 4 pm.

''How're my two favorite super soldiers doing?'' you ask as you walk into the bedroom. They’ve just finished the last necessary arrangements and are sitting on the bed watching an action movie. Steve is between Bucky's legs with Bucky's arms around his waist. His own hands are on Bucky's knees and they melt into each other's embrace. They both look up at you with expressions of adoration as you walk into the bedroom.

''We're doing perfectly now that you're back, Printsessa,'' Bucky says, and Steve nods in agreement. You tell them you're going to get ready for dinner straight away because you want to take your time and make everything perfect. From a dark make-up look to an elegant bun, you pull out all the stops. You finish the outfit with a simple silver necklace, and when it's time to leave for dinner, you meet Steve and Bucky in the living room, where they are waiting for you.

''So, how do I look?'' you ask them as you twirl around, and they practically drool at the sight of you. With a shared look, their plans change; they don't want to wait any longer to ask you to become their wife. They’ll propose to you now, and dinner will be to celebrate getting engaged.

''Princess?'' Steve stretches out his hand, which you take before he pulls you into the living room. Bucky turns on some soft background music on his phone and he fiddles with the ring in his pocket, the other half to the one Steve has in his. They chose matching, stackable rings that fit perfectly together so they could go down on one knee with a ring together.

''Printsessa, Steve, and I are so very fortunate to have you in our lives. We were happy before you met us, but we had never felt this amazing until we met you and you joined our relationship. Our days are brighter because of you, and our missions are less of a burden since we know we will come home to you every single time. Knowing that you're waiting for us is just one more reason for us to fight even harder because we don't want to be away from you any longer than we have to,'' Bucky tells you, and Steve stands beside him.

''I'm going to be honest: both Bucky and myself have done countless stupid things, but asking you to be a part of our lives isn't one of them. I love the traditions we've built together, from the blanket forts after each mission to our weekly dinner dates; we wouldn't change it for the world. We found our soulmate in you, and because of that, we want to ask you something important,'' Steve says.

Both men sink on their knees as you take a small step back, and the small ring boxes open in unison. Disbelief courses through your body at first, but it's true. They are asking you to marry you, and you can't wait for that day to arrive.

''Will you make us the happiest men in the universe and marry us?'' they ask in unison, and a loud laugh escapes you as you nod.

''Yes, of course, I'll marry you guys!'' you say, and they stand up to slide both rings on your finger. They each give you a deep, passionate kiss and then turn to share one with each other. Happiness radiates off all three of you.

''I love you both so much, though if you ever plan anything again, please don't make me feel like you're going to break up with me!'' you told them, and they agree. From here on out, they will do anything to include you whenever possible, and you have never felt more loved in your entire life.

''We love you too, Princess, more than you know,'' Bucky tells you before all three head off to dinner, celebrating the start of the rest of your lives.

[prettybrownelf]

i saw you were looking for requests a few months back and if you still are i love your bucky fics and just want anything else bucky x masc reader because i feel like hardly anyone writes them!! maybe otk spanking involved? 👀

Brat Taming

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x FTM! Reader

Summary- You and Bucky have a small argument in the kitchen. he thinks you need a lesson

Word Count- 1178

Content Warnings- AFAB Genitalia, OTK Spanking, Degradation, Praise, Overstimulation, Aftercare

You wouldn't say your a brat. Brat is too strong of a word. Your just a bit head-strong and…stubborn.

Bucky would say otherwise. He’d say your a brat who likes to make him mad for your own enjoyment.

Thats how this argument in the kitchen started.

“I’m not a brat, Buck. You just dont like being told no.” You’d been cleaning the kitchen when Bucky decided to confront you about ‘how you’ve been acting’.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he stays leaning against the kitchen counter, watching your every move as you clean. “Its not that. You’ve been leaving me on read, giving me the cold shoulder, your being a brat and you know it.” Bucky’s gruff voice sends a tiny shiver up your spine as you keep your back to him. “Oh, so your mad cause your not my center of attention?” He rolls his eyes at you as he moves next to your side. “Thats not it and you know it. I dont need attention.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you casually walk your way to the couch, Bucky following close behind. “Sure you dont, Buck. Thats why you follow me around like a puppy.” You can feel Bucky’s glare on the back of your head as you sit on the couch. “Im not a puppy.” Bucky snarls.

You try to stifle your giggle as Bucky sits next to you, huffing and puffing. “Quit huffing.” You manage to get out. Bucky rolls his eyes as he looks over at the tv, his words a muttered breath. “I should teach you lesson.”

Your ears perk up.

“What was that, Buck?” Testing Bucky’s patience is a fun pass time, especially when hes like this. Bucky’s eyes immediately snap to your face, his voice hasn't lost its gruff as he speaks. “I said i should teach you a lesson.” A smirk crawls to your face as you playfully try to crawl into Bucky’s lap.

Before you can speak your words are cut off by Bucky’s strong arms pushing you down, your stomach lays over his legs, your knees digging into the couch cushion below you. Trying to push yourself up fails as Bucky pushes you back down, your arms laying next to your head. Bucky’s voice sends a wave of heat into your lower stomach as you feel his rough, calloused hand softly circle your back.

“If you wanna be a brat, i’ll treat you like a brat.” Shivers run over your body as Bucky ever so slowly slips your pants off. You try to move your head to see what hes doing, only to have Bucky roughly push your head back into the couch. “Stay still.” He growls.

The air is still for what feels like forever. Your about to say something when a stinging slap hits your ass. The breath in your lungs suddenly disappears as you try to take in the shock in your body.

Bucky, however, doesn’t give you much time to recover, as he bring his hand back down. A small whine comes out of your throat from the pain, though you cant deny the bit of pleasure beginning to rise more and more. “You wanna be a fucking brat?” Bucky’s rough voice tickles the skin of your ear as he whispers to you, bringing his hand back down. “Ill show you what happens to a fucking brat.” Your breathing gets faster as Bucky continues to spank you. Tiny tears form in your eyes as your grip on the couch tightens.

A small chuckle from Bucky sends an embarrassed heat to your face. “Aww, is my little brat okay?” Bucky asks, sarcasm dripping off every word as he slams his hand back down, harder this time. “Maybe i should be rougher so your learn your lesson.” He says, a small smirk on his face.

All you can do is whine out small pleas and moans, feeling your ass getting more and more red.

After a few moments, the air stills. The feeling of Bucky’s hand softly rubbing your bruised, red skin makes your relax a bit, enjoying the feeling of being touched like this.

Bucky’s soft movements continue as he leans back down to your ear. “Color, baby?” Your voice is a bit hoarse, but you manage to get out a small “Green.” Making Bucky smile.

You feel Bucky slowly move your legs so your in the doggy position. Bucky’s voice is still soft as he rubs your red skin. “You look so handsome like this, puppy.”

A small mewl falls from your tongue at the pet name as you hear Bucky pull the zipper of his jeans down. You cant help but arch your back, pressing your now red ass against Bucky’s hips. His chuckle can be heard from behind you as you feel him gently rub your stinging skin, massaging it gently as he slowly slides his tip against your dripping cunt.

You feel his hand move from your ass to your hip, gripping tightly as he suddenly thrusts into you. The moan that comes out of your mouth is loud, loud enough for bucky to slam your face into the couch. “Keep that pretty voice down, pup, or do you want the neighbors to know your a little slut?” All you can do is whine into the cushions as Bucky continues to move his hips. You feel him hit a specific spot inside you, making your legs ark slightly. His grip on your hip gets tighter as he somehow manages to speed up, making small tears of pleasure form in the corner of your eyes.

The feeling of Bucky slamming against your body with his own is making your brain turn to mush as you feel yourself suddenly sum. Eyes rolled back, your legs shaking, Bucky doesn’t stop. Instead, he slams into you even harder bending over so he can prop himself up with one hand and reach his other hand under your trembles, moaning body.

One of Bucky’s rough fingers finds your clit, matching pace with his hips as he rubs circles around the sensitive bud. Bucky’s voice whispering in your ear isn't helping your oncoming second orgasm at either. As you grip the cushions and moan loudly under him, his breath tickles your ear.

“You look so good like this, puppy. Trembling like a little bitch under me.” Bucky’s pace begins to slow to a deep, rhythmic thrust. Your breathing is finally able to return to somewhat normal as Bucky continues to whisper in your ear, his finger continuing to circle around your clit.

He leaves small pecks on your neck as his voice continues to whisper small praises in your ear. your legs tremble beneath you as your eyes slowly roll back again. Bucky’s motions dont stop as he helps you through your orgasm. His low voice makes your face hot. “Such a good boy.” Bucky gives a small smile as he kisses your forehead tenderly. His strong arms wrap around your body as he moves you to lay on his chest, gently rubbing your back.

[babyjakes]

earn it. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | august '23 general requests blurb night

summary | if you want your daddy's cock, you're gonna have to earn it.

pairing | daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. fairly soft!daddy!bucky but he does force an orgasm out of reader. thigh riding. begging/pleading. fingering/clit play. (implied) multiple orgasms. overstimulation. praise. petnames. squirting. implied p in v.

word count | 308

requested by @vase-of-lilies | I'm excited about your event! If I could request a Bucky fic where the reader is super needy and just wants to ride his cock, but Bucky is a menace so he makes her ride his thigh first, then he takes super good care of her after being such a good girl for him, so she earns lots of overstimulation because she listened to him the first time! I hope that it is not too much or too little! I just love needy!reader and menace to society!Bucky lol!

an | okay soooo i haven't written for bucky in ages but i really really really wanted to write this request for you friend, thank you so much for sending it in 🥺🤍 i looove thigh riding and overstim so this was just the perfect little idea, thank you for sending it in and i hope you enjoy friend!!! <333

"Please Daddy, pretty please!"

"I'll be good for you, Daddy— I'll be sooo good if you let me!"

"Pleeease Daddy, need your cock! Need it in me, please, please, please!"

Your desperate words fall on deaf ears as your daddy bounces you on his bare thigh, his big hands supporting you by the waist as you sniffle and whine into his shoulder. "Shhh, pumpkin. C'mon, give me one more. Cum one more time for Daddy, and then you can have it, sweet girl."

"N-no Daddy, please," you beg again, your little hips jerking as he grinds you down more forcefully against his flexed thigh, the thick bands of his muscles hitting right up against your weakest spots.

"But you're doing so good, baby. So good for me, yeah? Just wanna see you cum one more time. You know how much I love seeing you fall apart like this. Doesn't it feel good, baby doll? Don't you like riding Daddy's thigh?"

"Y-ye-es Daddy, but—"

"Shhh," he shushes you again, reaching a hand down to move things along by rubbing your poor, puffy clit. Your hands dig into his shoulder blades as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head pounding as you hear Bucky whisper, "C'mon, baby. Let go for me. That's it..."

He coos loving praises as you squirt helplessly against his leg. He keeps rocking you on top of him as you ride the waves of your orgasm, letting out the sweetest little hums and moans against the familiar safety of his t-shirt.

"That's my girl," he murmurs proudly, kissing the side of your head as you float back down from your high. "Did so good for Daddy, 'm so proud of you, angel. Now let's get you all spread out on your back and ready for me, hmm? Think you've finally earned a good fucking from Daddy."

[veltana]

Highest bidder - Steve Rogers x virgin!reader

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader ✦ Word count: ~5k ✦ Raiting: Explicit ✦ Warnings: AU, kind of soft!dark Steve, reader is in her mid-twenties, one shot, pwp, insecurity, loss of virginity, piv sex, condoms, cunnilingus, smallest hint of a daddy kink, fluff and smut, dirty talk, friends to lovers, small hint of possessive/protective!Steve. Let me know if I missed anything! ✦ Summary: Tired of being a virgin and out of money you travel to Las Vegas to auction it off. Little do you know your friend Steve Rogers won't let anyone else have you. ✦ Note: I think this is among the first times that I cross-post a whole fic to tumblr. This fic is also on AO3. I'll see what the response is like here and maybe I'll continue to do it in the future.

Masterlist | AO3

"So what are you up to this weekend?" Steve asks as you take the first sip of your beer. For a second you debate not telling him and Bucky, sitting across from you in the booth. "Me and Wanda are going to Vegas." "What? Without me?" Bucky’s scandalized voice makes you laugh. "You don't like traveling, or Vegas for that matter," Steve points out. And that is true, you much prefer to stay in your apartment, reading your books and drinking tea. "Also, didn't you say you could hardly afford to go out with us tonight?" Bucky questions. "Well," you begin, scratching at the beer label, not wanting to look at them. "The trip is paid for." The stunned silence from across the table doesn't bode well, you know you're in for an interrogation now. "Do you need help? Are you in trouble?" Steve's concerned voice makes you look up. He's always so sweet and caring to you, looking out for you all the time.

"No, I'm fine. I'm doing it willingly," you answer. "What are you doing willingly?" There is no hiding the curiosity in Bucky’s voice. Once again you're not sure you're going to tell them, but it also doesn't make sense to keep it a secret. It's not a big deal, that's the whole point. "I'm auctioning off my virginity," you confess and are rewarded with both of them looking at you like you've grown a second head. Before they can say anything you continue. "I'm tired of it hanging over me, I just want it gone. And I'm also tired of scraping by. What you two make in an hour, I make in a month and I just want to be a step ahead instead of a step behind for once."

Bucky's smirk is the last thing you expect. "How much are you starting at, I'll double it." "Jerk." You throw some of your nuts his way. He laughs in response. "Honestly, tell me. What does a virginity go for these days?" "I'm starting out at three thousand. It would be more if I didn’t put in a clause about condoms and I’m a little bit older than most others.” “Well, my offer still stands,” Bucky concludes. “I bet it does, perv.” “And you don’t think the people buying you are pervs?” Steve’s been quiet up until now and his accusatory tone makes you defensive. “I’m not fucking stupid Steve, of course I know they are. They are also filthy rich. If I get bought by some disgusting old man I’ll smile and think about how fucking good it will feel not being stressed about money.” He still doesn’t look pleased and you didn’t come here to get judged. Finishing your beer you get up and grab your jacket. “I’ll see you around,” you say. Before walking out.

Vegas is overwhelming and loud. Instantly you shrink down, pulling your shoulders up. You would be lost if it wasn’t for Wanda. She’s in her element, flagging down cabs and weaving through the streets while you do your best to keep up. Finally, you arrive at your room. It’s small but not cramped and the two beds are clean. “First, shower, and then we’ll get started on your hair and makeup,” Wanda instructs. “You’re the best, you know that Wanda?” you smile at her. “What are best friends for if not fixing you up for some old guy to buy your V-card,” she winks.

Maybe Wanda is a witch, you think as you look at yourself in the tall mirror backstage. Somehow she took your average look and styled it into something you would never in a hundred years be able to recreate. Instead of the innocent style many seem to prefer, she made sure you looked sexy. If this had been a regular night of going out, you’d feel uncomfortable that someone you knew would see you, but the two glasses of champagne and the knowledge that no one except you and Wanda would ever see this made your confidence high. The night moves quickly, both women and men going up on the well-lit stage to present themselves and then watching as the bids start coming in. The people bidding are not in the room, but in different hotels scattered across the city, typing in numbers. Some people do elaborate shows when they step up in front of the cameras. One guy deep-throats a large banana and at first, you giggle but then you see the digits on the screen. His bids are the highest all evening so far. You decide quickly that you will just go up, smile, and wave and wait. You aren’t expecting much, but your pride hopes at least one or two people will find you attractive enough to at least pay the starting bid.

Soon it’s your turn. With a pounding heart, you step up on the stage, your body warms not only from the light but from the nervousness coursing through your body. You concentrate on your breathing so you won’t pass out and when you smile you hope it looks genuine. At first, the monitors are quiet and your heart drops. Are you not good enough for even some old lonely pervert? Then it dings with an incoming bid. It’s just above the starting sum, but you’re instantly relieved and can’t help the actually genuine smile that cracks your face. A second later another bid comes in. You don’t know how many people are placing the bids, you just see the number rise on the monitor, to your utter delight. Quickly it’s up to four thousand and the tempo slows, so maybe some people dropped out. But a few steady bids keep coming in, until it’s starting to near five thousand and it stops long enough for an automated voice ring out through the room. “Going once. Going twice.” Before it can finish the monitor chimes again, your mouth dropping open when you see the sum. Ten thousand dollars. It must be a mistake. The counting starts again, but you hardly hear it over the pure shock you’re experiencing.

Then you’re shooed away, given a room number and a key, before being put into a waiting car to take you to the hotel. When it stops outside of the Palms Casino you think you must be dreaming. It gets even worse when you realize you’re heading to the top floor. Whoever is waiting behind the door won’t matter, because you’ll gladly do anything they ask you.

The penthouse is stunning and it’s hard to take everything in. At the floor-to-ceiling windows, a figure is outlined. They’re backlit against the neon lights of Vegas and it’s hard to make out any details except the broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. That feels promising. They don’t turn around as you close the door but you don’t hesitate to step into the room and begin to walk up to them. Stopping a a few steps behind you say “Hi. I am flattered by your very generous-” But you don’t get further because the person turns around and your words get stuck in your throat. “Steve?!” You quickly step back to get away. This must be some cruel joke he and Bucky have come up with. Before you can run out of the room he grabs your wrist. The usually soft eyes are hard and his smiling mouth is a line of displeasure. “Let go of me,” you demand. “No can do, I paid for you,” his hard voice makes you still. “This isn’t funny, Steve.” “No, it’s not. Now you’re going to go into the bedroom and take off those heels, then kneel on the bed and wait for me,” his instructions make it very clear that if you argue, you won’t like what comes next, so instead you bow your head and say “Yes, Steve.”

You’ve never seen a king-size bed before and it’s much larger than you could’ve imagined. The sheets are soft against your knees as you sit on your feet, waiting. There are too many emotions and questions running wild in your body, but the most prominent one is Why had he bid on you? There is no denying Steve is good looking and when Wanda had first introduced you, sure you’d had a crush on him. But you never thought about pursuing it. His life was far from yours, with luxury cars and expensive dinners, while you went out to eat once a year on your birthday. Both he and Bucky had offered you money on several occasions but you’d never taken it, because you’d never be able to pay it back and money being owed between friends always caused trouble.

You hear the steps nearing the room and you meet his eyes as he steps through the open door. He has left his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, making him more desirable and more dangerous at the same time. Taking a stand a the foot of the bed he stares you down but you don’t cower. Even though you want to ask what the fuck this is, the tension in the air tells you not to talk back right now, just show him that you’re not afraid. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Steve is here because he is someone you trust would never hurt you, or do anything against your will.

“Here is how this is going to go, sweetheart. I’ll do right by you and take this nice and slow like you deserve. Then when it’s over we’re sitting down to a nice dinner, and afterward I’m bending you over the dining room table and taking out all my fucking frustration on that cunt of yours until you can’t walk straight.” His words send lightning bolts of desire through you and you nod in understanding. “Use your words,” he demands. “Yes, Steve,” you agree. Then he crooks his fingers, indicating he wants you to come to him. You crawl the short way to the edge and sit back again. His fingers grip your chin carefully. “I’m going to kiss you.” “Okay.”

The second he presses his lips to yours it's like being on cloud nine. It's soft but not hesitant and you instinctively grab a hold of his shirt. Steve begins slowly, as if not to scare you but the more you meet his advances the more he takes. Then he coaxes your lips to part, slipping in his tongue and finding yours to play with. Kissing other people has been nice before, but kissing Steve is exceptional. When his hands land at your waist and pull you into him, you can't keep the moan in. His touch hardens and it makes you throb to be this close to him.

You’re a little out of it when he pulls away and you must look it too because he chuckles. "You like that?" A dopey smile splits your lips and you nod. But then his hands travel to the front of your dress, hooking his fingertips into the fabric and you can’t help stiffen. "Have you ever had your tits played with?" he asks. With a groan, you shake your head. "If you think kissing was great just wait until I get my mouth on the rest of you." He sounds so confident, but you’re not and either it’s blatantly obvious that you’re insecure or he knows you too well.

"How are you feeling?" You think about lying for a second but then decide against it. "I don’t understand why.” "Why what?" "I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but, why me Steve?" You find the courage to look up at him. Now he has that soft smile that you absolutely adore on his stupidly handsome face. His voice is just as soft when he speaks.

"Not only are you absolutely stunning, and I’m not talking about the way you’re dolled up right now. I love seeing you in your big sweaters while you go around the bookstore and help people with recommendations. I also admire you, because you follow your heart. Doing what makes you happy is important to you and I wish I were more like that. Even if you look out for yourself, that never stops you from caring about others. You cry when you see clips of rescue animals. And you're so so obvious that I've been in love with you since Wanda introduced you." "What?" you choke, your whole reality shifting. "Sweet, dumb little pet.” Steve’s hands cup your face and light squeezes your cheeks together for a second. “I've wanted you since you stammered out your name. Something so pure and precious deserves the world." "I didn’t know,” you whisper. "Of course you didn’t. When I got home that night, I jerked myself off to the thought of you and I swear I never come so hard in my life."

"Steve!" Heat rushes into your cheeks at his words. "I’ve had time to think about this a lot. I'm going to get you so wet and needy you will beg for my cock. I'm gonna make sure you're at the brink of insanity, deliriously begging for me to fuck you, even though you don't know what it feels like." "Oh god!" you moan, desire moving through your body. "Let me taste you, kitten. Let me make you scream,” his seductive voice rumbles.

Nodding you watch as his fingers pull the dress down, baring your breasts to his eyes. Instantly he cups them, thumbs brushing your nipples, making you keen. "Prettiest fucking tits I've ever seen," he whispers before leaning down and licking a nipple. The sensation makes you grab hold of his head to steady yourself. His tongue flicks it several times before sucking it into his mouth and you arch into him, clutching him, moaning out his name. Sure, you've been aroused in your life before, but the ache Steve creates is starting to feel painful. "Steve!" you plead when he switches to the other side, giving your other nipple the same treatment. He hums against your skin before pulling off you with a plop and immediately kisses you again. Nothing is really different from before but just knowing that Steve's tongue was just somewhere else on your body and now it's in your mouth makes you heat up even more.

It feels good when he takes charge, it keeps your thoughts from running in all the wrong directions. He gets you to lie down, crawling onto the bed after you, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can get to while you shudder under him. "How are you feeling?" he asks with a shit-eating grin, clearly knowing he's responsible for your state. "Goodgoodgood!" Is all you can get out while pawing at his clothed chest. "Want me to take it off?" Nodding vigorously you try to undo the buttons, but fail. He laughs and sits back between your spread legs, untucking the shirt and pulling it over his head. The bulge in his pants is very visible and you swallow hard at the sight of it, both scared and excited. He notices you looking. "We'll get to that later," he promises with another kiss. "First I'm going to get you wet and ready for me."

A hand hikes up your skirt and a finger follow the edge of your panties, down toward the juncture of your leg. It's like hot coal against your skin, burning you most sweetly. Even if you’re already soaked, his touch is sending pulse after pulse into your cunt and you're scared you're about to stain the sheets if he continues. A fingertip caresses over your core, touch so light it's almost not there but your sensitive skin feels it. Trembling you arch up, gripping the sheets. "Is that good?" Not knowing if you can speak you just nod and he continues. Down your thighs and back up, over and over again against your covered cunt, fingers getting firmer and firmer the more sounds you make.

A thrill you've never felt before has taken up place in your body, threatening to send your mind spiraling. To distract yourself you explore the plains of Steve's body that you can reach, stroking his arms and shoulders, but to feel him makes it even worse. You can’t wait to have him pressed against you.

Sitting back again he says, "I'm going to take these off now." He hooks his fingers at the top of your panties and starts to pull. "Lift your ass up." He instructs. Now your tits and your cunt are exposed for him. Steve is staring, but when you try to close your legs from embarrassment he quickly puts his hands on your thighs to spread them apart even more. "Don't you dare take that pretty pussy away from me," he all but growls and it sends another wave of pleasure into you. The air feels cold against your wet, warm skin. Then his gaze flicks up to you and with another smile, he leans down bending you almost in half, placing a kiss on your lips. "Last kiss before I devore you," he whispers and slides down your body. When his words sink in, you go rigid.

"No, you don't have to, we can just‐" you begin but the look he gives silences you. "Do you know how long I have waited for this?" He nips the inside of your thigh. "No," you whimper. "Been dreaming about how you would feel, and taste." He mouths at your skin. "The nights I can’t sleep I lie there and think of you soaking my beard when you come for me," he groans and moves down a little more until his face is right in front of your pussy. "Now I'm having my fill and when I'm done you'll be primed for my cock, I promise."

Not giving you any time to answer he dives in. His tongue feels nothing like your own fingers, or the vibrator you have in your drawer. It's sending you to heaven with every stroke. Steve takes notes of what makes you moan the loudest and in no time the unmistakable warmth of an orgasm begins to build. You do your best to keep still, but it's hard when it feels so good and Steve follows your every movement until your thighs are trembling heavily, breath coming out in irregular gasps, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart.

It climbs quicker than you expect and when the orgasm rips through you it’s with a cry, that leaves you almost boneless afterward. Looking down, panting, you notice you've basically crushed Steve's head between your thighs. With a "Sorry!" You spread them apart and he comes up for air, his beard glistening with you. "How was that?" "Incredible," you sigh. The ache that threatened to consume you has died down to a more manageable throb. "Great." He positions himself again and you stare with wide eyes. An amused smirk plays on his lips. "Did you think that was it?" You try to stutter out a response but he raises his hand and wiggles his fingers playfully. "Now you get these too."

After a second you relax into the pillows, trusting Steve with your body. He's gentle when he begins, now that your cunt is a million times more sensitive, but soon you're trembling again, and then the tip of his finger is at your opening. It slides in without resistance and the feeling changes. More nerves send sparks through you from new places. It's too much for your poor brain to decipher and you don’t fight it, just let it take you, like you’re floating down a stream. "Good girl, relaxing for me so well." Through bleary eyes you see him looking up at you. "Ready for another one?" You're not sure what that means but you nod anyway and are rewarded with a smile. He never looks away from you as you feel another finger press in together with the first. A high-pitched sound leaves you as your chest heaves. It's too much but not enough. You’re so full but in the best way possible. Then he moves them and you can hear just how wet he's made you.

His tongue comes back to play with your clit and soon you're at the edge of another orgasm. "Yes yes yes!" You chant over and over again. Everything he does feels so good. The sensation of clamping down on his fingers as you come is new and makes the orgasm much stronger this time, leaving you mildly disoriented for a second. "God, you look so beautiful when you come." Steve lays his head against your leg, still moving his hand and sending small aftershocks into your body. "You know what?" "What Stevie?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse as you reach down and place your hand in his soft hair, carding your fingers through it, just to feel him. "I don't think you noticed, but there are three fingers inside you now." You make a questioning sound. "Added another right after you came. No problem at all. Just need you to come one more time, then I'll know you're ready." He does something with his fingers inside you, making you whimper from the pleasure it sends through you. "Found your G-spot too," he looks smug as he says it. "Let's see what happens when I play with just that."

It’s another new experience that puts your body on edge in the best way. The pleasure never dissipates but it never builds either and finally you can't stand it anymore, deciding to beg for the relief he can give you. "Stevie, please! Use your mouth again!" "Of course, when you ask so nicely." When he sucks your clit into his mouth, it makes you see stars, and seconds later the built-up ecstasy reaches its peak. Gripping his head you grind against his tongue with a cry of his name because it’s so fucking good.

Afterward, you sink down with a relieved sigh and you're pretty sure your muscles have never been this relaxed in your life. "Such a good girl for me." Steve praises before pulling out his fingers, licking them clean, and moving off the bed. You instantly feel achingly empty. Not taking his eyes from you he undo his pants and slide them and his underwear off.

The sight of his hard, leaking cock standing out from his body is kind of mesmerizing. You've seen dicks in pictures, sent unsolicited to you on a few occasions, and a couple of times when you've tried to watch porn. Never before have you thought a dick could look pretty. As if something possesses your body you crawl over to the edge of the bed, settling on your legs and reaching out towards it. Steve watches, chest heaving slightly as you trace his cock with a fingertip, all the way from root to tip, dipping it into the leaking mess. Looking up at him you bring it to your mouth and lick it. The groan he lets out in response is delicious.

It doesn't taste bad, just different and you're about to ask if you can try to take him in your mouth but as if sensing your thoughts he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. At first, you try to move away, knowing where he has just been, but he keeps a steady hand at the back of your neck, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, and just like him, it’s not bad, just different. "If I let you touch me more than that, I'll burst,” he explains before he grabs your dress and pulls it off you in one go. “Now be good and lay down again." "Yes, Stevie," you answer and fall onto the bed, spreading your legs. Instead of joining you right away, he walks up to the bedside table and opens a drawer, pulling out a square package.

Embarrassment fills you. In your post-orgasmic state, you forgot about your own rule. If he hadn’t gotten a condom you would gladly have let him take you raw. Lucky for you, Steve is not the type of person to take advantage of you like that. He rolls it on and you swallow hard. Just the look of it is big, you’re not sure how it will fit. "Don't be scared. With how wet you are, it’ll glide right in," he says with a smile, kneeling between your spread legs.

This is the moment, you think. After this, you won't be a virgin anymore. Even if it is just a social construct, you've never actually had a dick inside of you and that will be a new experience. Steve kisses you, helping the doubts slip away. The rubber feels weird against your lower lips, and then it's at your opening. The tip presses inside and Steve watches your face. "Does it hurt?" he asks. "No,” you assure him. “It's just different." "Tell me if you want to stop." "Just keep going."

Slowly he eases his way inside and once he bottoms out both of you are breathing heavily. With a groan, Steve's head lands on your shoulder. "Fuck you're like a vice around my dick. I'm going to try to move." You wrap your arms around his shoulders, caressing his back and he starts moving. You feel like you're filled to the brim and it's pressing against your G-spot, making you warm and high again. Experimentally you lift your hips, meeting his, eliciting a moan from him. "I'm sorry," Steve mumbles. "I won't last long." Before you can respond he continues. "You feel too good. So tight and warm. Fuck!" Then he lifts himself on one of his strong arms before grabbing the back of your neck and bending it until you're looking down toward where your bodies are connected. Steve slams his hips into you and you answer with a cry of pleasure. "Look at that unused cunt taking my big cock so well." "Steve!" you whine. His thrusts are too good, the pressure too much, and looking at it only makes you hotter. "It was made for me, right?" "Yes! Ah! Steve!" The throb in your clit is driving you insane and you reach down to relieve it. "Oh fuck. Are you gonna come on my dick your first time? That's dirty." You never expected words to be such a big part of sex, but the way Steve is talking is heightening your sensation.

"That's right. Rub your clit for me. Fuck you're clenching around me so hard. Tell me if you're gonna come." Nodding frantically you feel the climax building. Your whole body is a coil wind up tight and you're not sure what will happen when it snaps.

"I'm - I'm… I think I'm going to come, Steve," you moan. The pressure in your lower stomach is excruciating and delirious. You just need a little more. Letting go of your head he meets your eyes. "Good girl, I'm right behind you. Squeeze me dry. Come for Daddy." The last words enter your brain and sweep you off. The orgasm takes over your whole body and drowns you in pleasure. The edge of your vision blurs, your body shuddering violently. You hear the blood pumping in your veins. Feel your heart drumming in your ribcage. On some level you're aware of Steve above you, chanting your name as his hips pump into you and he fills the condom.

The weight of him is nearly crushing but also makes you feel safe. For the first time, you have the presence of mind to take in his body as you caress down his sides and his back, down over his ass as far as you can reach. It makes him sigh happily and you feel so content. After a while, he raises himself on his elbows and pecks your lips, nose, and cheeks until you giggle, before getting off completely and disposing of the condom. As soon as the warmth of him leaves, small, cruel thoughts about this once again being some kind of joke start forming in your head. Despite what he’s said, you find it hard to believe that it would be true.

Before you have time to think more about it he is beside you in the bed again, leaning on his arm and looking down at you. "So, how was that?" He’s curious, there’s no hiding it. "Better than I could ever dream of," you answer honestly. "Well, that's an ego boost," Steve laughs. "How… How was I?" He kisses you before he whispers, "Best I ever had." You can't help but snort at that. "Don't fucking lie to me."

With a growl Steve rolls onto his back, taking you with him and making you lay on his chest. "It's the fucking truth, and unless you want a spanking to go with the next round, you're going to believe me." That tone of voice. The threat of pain and pleasure combined sparks something inside you, and Steve notices. "Oh, does that make you horny?" Hiding your face in the crook of his neck you say "Yes, Daddy." Steve groans and crushes you into his chest. "If I could fuck you again right now, believe me, I would."

Several hours later you're in bed again, pressed against Steve’s warm chest. He did what he promised and you’re sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. But something is weighing on your mind. “I’ll pay you back,” you say. “If you do, you’ll wish I spanked you.” “But-,” “No. I told you that you deserve the world, that money is a drop in the ocean to me.” “I can’t believe you bought me.” “I can’t believe you sold your body.” Even if you can’t see him, his voice makes it clear he’s not happy. “The thought of someone else touching you, fucking you. I’m not a violent man, but that makes me want to kill.” “I’m glad it was you,” you confess with a smile and kiss his skin. A moment later he’s on top of you, kissing you sweetly and you feel him stirring against you, growing hard. An answering wetness pool at your core. “I need you again,” he murmurs against your mouth. With a nod, you reach between your bodies to guide him inside. Pulling back, he says “Condom.” When he reaches over to the bedside table, you shake your head and lift your hips. “Oh fuck, are you sure?” “I want to feel you,” you reassure him. It’s a bit sore when he presses inside but the movements are slow, and the kisses quickly take your mind off it. Afterward, he doesn’t pull out, and you fall asleep with his cum and cock between your legs, happy he was your highest bidder.