#putting in a lot of effort to get Steve a dessert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scoops-aboy86 · 10 months ago

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This kink has really unlocked something in me, because I don't write a lot of smut but this is the smuttiest stuffing I've ever written. Still unbeta'd, we die like Barb. 🫣🫣🫣

There's still a little bit more left to post after this, so stay tuned. I'll probably get antsy and put it up tomorrow.

🔞 Seven Christmases pt. 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Home pt. i (2790 words)

rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie, established relationship, weight gain, belly kink, stuffing, fluff, they’re in love, sugar cream pie, coming untouched

When Joyce offers to let them stay the night so they don’t have to drive home, Steve politely declines.

When Robbin offers her parents’ guest room, Steve shakes his head and says, “Nah, Eddie’s too loud.”

“Oh my god, dingus, I don’t need to know that!”

“Wha—Robbie, no,” he chokes out. “He snores, Jesus!”

Never mind that they are going to get up to things tonight that Eddie will be very loud about, but that genuinely wasn’t what he’d meant. There are still some things his platonic soulmate doesn’t need to know about, for all that he’s told her enough in the past that she can probably guess. (And the only thing she’d ever said on the subject was, “Well, at least with that EMT training you’ll know what to do if it’s ever really too far,” which. True.)

Jonathan helps him load their haul of presents into the car, because Eddie is still stuffed to capacity and laid out on the couch like a beached whale, oblivious to the party still going on around him. Not asleep yet, though it’s only a matter of time. He focuses blearily through the haze of the approaching food coma when Steve comes to get him, movements sluggish but willing, and between his efforts and Steve’s muscles they get him up and out and in and buckled.

Steve helps him crank the seat back so he still has room to breathe instead of being squashed by both the seat belt and his round gut, and takes a moment to admire the sight before him. Shallow breaths, interspersed with little groans and hiccups and burps, whining when anything jostles him even a little, Eddie is magnificent. With the apron slipped off and run quickly back into the house, the entire underside of his swollen belly is on display in a hard arc, both tight and soft as Steve, briefly, allows himself to touch.

Just to provide some relief! He doesn’t cup where Eddie’s underbelly covers his lap. Doesn’t trace his fingers over the red lines still lingering from where Eddie’s pants had cut into him all day, right up until just before the final feast, or where the bottom of his undershirt has ridden up to cling near the apex of his domed stomach, or where the sweater has rucked up even further to escape the swell. Doesn’t lean down to bite, like he wants to. No, he’s good, just offering a quick belly rub to help ease some of the pressure before they hit the road so that any bumps along the way won’t jar this precious cargo.

“Stevieee,” Eddie moans, low and quiet, arching into his hands.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmurs back, distracted by the way his fingers don’t sink into his boyfriend’s fat like they usually can. Rubbing, feeling, massaging, not groping, not… not really.

“Wanna—hic—go home,” Eddie whines, and Steve relents with one final caress over stretch-mark littered skin. He can’t wait to count how many more there are with his tongue.

Eddie is asleep by the end of the driveway, oblivious to their assembled family all waving them a warm goodbye from the porch.

The thing is, while Steve hasn’t been stuffing himself like his (indeed loudly snoring) boyfriend, he’s still been to six holiday get-togethers today. He’s been eating light portions, not going back for seconds… But it was two heavy breakfasts, one heavy lunch, one bowl of leek soup with a limp side salad, and two dinners with two rounds of dessert. Not to mention cookies and candies in between, some peanut brittle, some fudge, some of those apple slices with caramel dip that Mrs. Buckley had sent over with them…

He gives in and unbuttons his own pants while sitting at the last red light out of Hawkins. It feels nice; he can only imagine what it feels like when Eddie does it, that little embodiment of a sigh of relief. After all they’ve been through he just loves that Eddie can have that.

The button from Eddie’s pants still burns a hole in his pocket all through the long drive, the gift tag off his Christmas present, signed to Steve with love.

A hand on Eddie’s (which has drifted to rest on the shelf of his stomach as he slept) rouses him to a sleep-stale taste on his tongue. He rolls it around in his mouth, smacks his lips, trying to clear the funk before he’s even gotten around to opening his eyes.

“Eds, baby, wake up. We’re home.”

Then something bumps against his bottom lip. And because he recognizes Steve’s voice and would trust him with his life (has, in fact, more than once), he opens. Smiles when he recognizes the texture of a sugar cookie from one of the mostly empty tins, and flutters his eyes open. His sweetheart knows that he likes to wake up to something sweet.

“There he is,” Steve murmurs from where he’s leaning into the passenger side, a small grin widening across his handsome face. What a dork, Eddie thinks fondly. He finishes guiding the cookie into Eddie’s mouth and cups his cheek, thumb brushing away some stray crumbs while he chews. “Think you can get up for me?”

Eddie chews and hums an affirmative. For Steve, he can make anything happen.

There’s just… one more thing he wants though, tonight.

He swallows, clears his throat. Lets his hands drift over himself slowly, sensually, testing, and notices Steve’s eyes follow them up and down. “Mm. The thing is, Steve, I’ve gotten pretty full today, just not all the way. Not quite. But it wouldn’t take much.” He draws a slow circle around his half-exposed navel. “Do you have anything else I could eat?”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Steve blurts, red faced, “Yeah, I have something.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Eddie coos happily, patting his belly. His eyes dip down, and there’s an additional flare of heat through his core to see that Steve’s pants are undone as well and, hmm… He hasn’t given much thought to it before, but a little softness suits Steve too. Doesn’t have to be as much as he’s packed on himself, but it’s nice. “Okay then, big boy—help me up?”

Steve practically trips over his own feet getting out of the car and around to Eddie’s side to get the door for him.

What Steve has waiting for him almost makes Eddie tear up, it’s so thoughtful.

Twice a year (Christmas and for Eddie’s birthday), Wayne always made him a sugar cream pie. Eddie knows it’s because the recipe is easy and the ingredients are pretty simple—but he also knows it’s the only thing Wayne ever baked, and he did that for him. Everything else he’d eaten today had been great, but this… this is meaningful.

“I asked Wayne what your favorite dessert is,” Steve explains shyly. “I, uh. I hope I made it right.”

Eddie is already comfortable on the bed, except for the straining clothes he’s still wearing. He leans forward in anticipation with his eyes fixed on the first slice pie and his mouth watering. “Steve, it’s perfect. You’re perfect, my fucking… baking Adonis. Wanna taste it.”

So Steve hands him the plate.

And the first bite is heaven. The familiar flavor, the familiar texture, spreading over his tongue and down his throat and into his already packed stomach. He actually moans at how good it all is, and Steve settles reverently next to him on the mattress, unable to tear his eyes away.

Throughout the first slice, Steve just watches and offers him sips from a cold glass of milk. Eddie pauses here and there to tell him how it tastes, how he used just the right amount of cinnamon sugar on top, how he would happily smear the filling over Steve’s body and greedily lick it all off again. He squirms as he says the last one, trying halfheartedly to get out of his pants without needing to free up his hands, or at least get some friction on his dick. It doesn’t really work, only makes him more desperate, which drives him to scoop bigger bites into his mouth at a time. If he can’t wiggle out, he can settle for bursting some seams.

The second slice goes much the same, only Steve settles a palm on the near side of Eddie’s belly a few bites in. Eddie just hums, accepts another drink of milk, and keeps going, so Steve keeps touching. Follows the curve of it across the tight, churning top, hand slowly alternating between big circles and long ones, until he’s reaching fully across Eddie’s widened frame. The first tentative touch of fingertips against hot bare skin makes Eddie groan with his mouth full. The first full press, Steve’s entire hand on his exposed belly, kneading where he still manages to be soft, elicits a much more lewd, extended moan that ends in a belch.

“Oooh yeah, there baby…”

During the third, Steve moves to kneel before him on the bed and give both sides the same treatment. Eddie sits there, eyes sliding closed as he burps his way through. He just basks in it, concentrating too hard on eating to bother stretching out like a lazy cat the way he kind of wants to under Steve’s touch, feels so loved and worshiped. The piece of pie goes down faster in the face of that devotion (and the space it frees up).

Partway into the fourth, Steve slides the tips of his fingers under Eddie’s stretched-out undershirt. Inches it up slowly, leaning forward to kiss pale, scarred, tatted up skin as it’s revealed, until both sweater and shirt are bunched up almost to his armpits. It gets Eddie to open his eyes and look down at himself with a hiccuping groan, at the way there is so much of him now.

God, he’d been skinny his entire life all the way through high school, all six fucking years of it, living off cheap shit and not much of it. Whenever he’d gone over to a friend’s house for dinner he’d eaten everything he could without being outright rude, shoveled it in like it was a matter of survival because it was.

It’s not anymore. His appetite has grown into a beast of a thing, one he never really bothers to rein in, but today he’s left even that in the dust. His stomach feels so tight and his entire world has narrowed to just this, just Steve rubbing his belly and the next mouthful, the bite sliding between his plump lips.

Before he knows it, the fourth slice is gone and he’s on to the fifth.

As Eddie starts to slow down, to truly and definitely fill up, he tries to squirm and resettle only to find himself pinned. His belly grumbles and aches and completely covers the throbbing hard-on trapped in his pants, hiding the way his zipper still splays open long-hidden under his own bulk. He has never been this full, never pushed himself this hard, but it’s been all day and he’s so close, almost there…

“You’re doing so good, Eds,” Steve murmurs when prompted with a whine. He’s still touching, pressing, kneading, holding the soft underside of Eddie’s belly in both hands and hefting experimentally before carefully easing it back to his lap, careful not to let it bounce just now. “What do you need, babe? Tell me what you need.”

The question, and how full he is, makes Eddie’s breath hitch. It’s all he can do to keep chewing, the ache in his belly taking up more and more of his attention and he’s so close, Jesus H. Christ, if he could just—

“Feed me,” he gasps. “F-finish it, St—hic—Steve, I—”

The plate is already out of his hands. Steve doesn’t even bother putting another slice on it, just takes the fork and grabs the pie pan. Sweet filling smears across Eddie’s lips as he accepts a bite, and there’s another right there and waiting before he’s even swallowed. He can’t resist (doesn’t want to), taking that too and feeling his cheeks bulge until he manages to swallow it all with a moan. All the while he’s doing what company has prevented him from doing all day: rub at his belly as he eats, soothing and massaging to try and make just a little bit more room.

Steve nudges the next bite against his mouth, biting his own lip when Eddie’s wrap around the fork and he drags slowly back with the offering on it now missing. “I can’t believe you’re still eating, Eds,” Steve whispers in awe. “You’re so…” His hips are starting to rock, Eddie can feel the motion against his gut and padded thigh. Just a little, like he can’t help it.

Mouth too full to respond, Eddie reaches down to paw at his own buried waistband and try to shove it down, at least wriggle his ass out to give his cock more room to breathe, still can’t—

He remembers being in the bathroom a few hours ago, thinking that he could come in these pants and no one would be able to see the sticky wetness he’d be left sitting in because of his belly. Accepting yet another mouthful, his eyes roll back briefly in his head but he doesn’t come, just moans and drools and gets more pre-come on the inside of his boxers.

There’s pie filling on his chest and he mourns each fleck of it that escapes, but it’s so hard to swallow and he can’t budge these pants.

“Eddie?” Steve pauses, putting the pie down even though Eddie whimpers at the loss. “Here, let me…”

And, okay, letting Steve eases him back and just about peel the pants and underwear off his lower half gives Eddie time to clear his mouth and gasp for breath. “Ohfuck, Stevie—” as Steve plants open-mouthed kisses on his belly, on his splayed thighs, on the insides of his dimpled fucking knees as he pulls the clothes off over his still-socked feet “—don’t stop, keep, I can’t—urp—if I stop I won’t be able to finish.”

Steve nods, but gets him another drink of milk first and presses gently against his tender stomach until another series of wet, hiccupy burps come out, and then soothes a hand over the taut skin. “There,” he murmurs, eyes almost unfocused as his gaze roves in a way that makes Eddie feel not just seen but memorized. Another soft pat. “More room.” Then he reaches for the pie again.

And now it’s not even the fork anymore. Steve delivers bites to Eddie’s eager mouth with his fingers, whimpering whenever Eddie sucks on them. He starts kissing Eddie between bites, licking up the food that his desperate maw missed and feeding them back to him on his own tongue.

And Eddie is begging for it, broken little pleas and whines and burps and helpless hiccups that escape through his perpetually full mouth, the most common words being “Steve” and “please” and “more” and “more” and “more.” He keeps accepting more almost faster than he can swallow it all but whimpers whenever Steve tries to slow down. Chewing and swallowing and working his fingers against a cramp because he’s so fucking close—

“Last bite,” Steve whispers, awed, and Eddie opens his eyes a sliver. (When had he closed them?) He can’t do more than that, can barely move from where he’s sitting bare-assed on the bed with his belly hanging out, cock throbbing like a brand against his underbelly. So close, so close…

The last morsel breaches his sticky lips and his eyes roll back in his head knowing that he’d already eaten himself to sleep once before and yet just finished an entire pie all by himself. And it’s perfect, because the last bite feels heavy and slow traveling down his throat, but it goes, and it squeezes just as heavily into his abused stomach and that’s it. No more room, absolute maximum capacity. Anything else, even a single drop more milk, and he’ll burst.

The little voice in the back of his head whispering more more MORE finally is drowned out by another moaning full full FULL. His eyes roll back in his head while his teeth are still clamped wantonly around Steve’s fingers, and he comes so hard his vision whites out and the all-consuming ache of his fullness turns to fizzing hot pleasure that reaches every extremity and nerve. He comes with the entirety of his overflowing body, clutching at himself, wholly consumed by the pleasure and the excess and the fact that it is Steve feeding him, loving him, to completion.

Part 8

#wg steddie #chubby eddie munson #feeder steve harrington #feedee eddie munson #scoops words #scoops - do not unwrap fic #belly stuffing smut #the exciting almost-conclusion

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 2 years ago

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Okay bestie hear me out ….. I’m literally a genius btw okay so I been thinking and like hear me out (this is a long one I’m so sorry I’m in dumb horny himbo mode rn)

Steve rogers landed a brand deal with Coke with special edition red white and blue cans with a picture of him on the front each label with 4 or 5 different versions of the same label just him in different poses. After the events of endgame when getting his affairs in order so he can properly retire the title of captain America and give it to Sam , his brand deal is something that needs to be taken care of. New contracts are signed and old ones are reviewed and with little difficulty he’s able to prematurely end his contract. The problem is there’s a warehouse filled with Steve’s captain America branded coke products. And as efforts not to waste any when liquidating Steve gets sent a pretty large portion of the overstock, As in a giant pallet shows up and his and Bucky’s front door each month for like 6 months filled with glass bottles, plastic bottles , cans , etc.. The problem is as a result of not having sweets for a pretty damn long time Bucky is addicted to sugar so when Steve comes home from one of his last few trips to tie up loose ends making his retirement official. And sees Bucky in their bedroom through the crack of the door soda cans flooding both nightstands and in the center of the bed is Bucky swollen mumbling to himself he’s gonna pop while still drinking more soda pitching a tent while doing so and …. Anyways I’m sure you could probably take that and run with it and write much better than I could but I’m just a whore for soda bloated Bucky and Steve being sensitive to words like pop, burst , explode (obv not in a literal sense just more as vocal additives)

I CAN HEAR YOU LOUD AND CLEAR.

JESUS CHRIST.

This. I love this. This hits so many spots. Just, yes.

It starts basically as soon as Bucky is back in the future and is at least a little bit of himself - it being the incessant munching on candy. Bucky had a sweet tooth back in the day, too, but of all the things HYDRA did to him, they also must’ve done something to mess with his taste buds because his sweet tooth is unsatiable now. He preferred sweets before, but now he’s obsessed with sweets. Candy. Ice cream. Soda pop. Pastries. Even sweet dishes of real, not fake snacks or desserts, like orange chicken or teriyaki flavored… anything, really.

If it’s sweet, he’ll eat it.

It’s a conversation Steve and Bucky have had too many times where Steve watches Bucky snack on sugar after dinner before bed until his own stomach is turning; he doesn’t understand how Bucky can deal with that much sweetness-

"You're gonna rot your teeth, Buck," Steve tells him.

The light of the TV flickers over Bucky’s (admittedly softer, softer than he was in Romania) frame. He’s clothed in his pajamas, nice and relaxed. "Nn, 'm not!" Bucky says around a mouthful of sticky toffy, "'m'uh supersoldier-" he mumbles as if Steve could forget "-my teeth can't rot!"

“I don’t know… you might be pushing it, Buck,” Steve says, giving him shit because it’s their nature. Not because he really means it. He doesn’t actually want Bucky to stop eating sweets. Bucky deserves to have whatever the hell he wants. Steve is more than weak for his boyfriend. Still. It’s a lot.

And still… he might rot his teeth. You never know. Stranger things have happened in their lives.

Bucky just shrugs and moves his metal arm from where it was laying across his soft middle to pick at the toffy now stuck between his teeth.

Steve sighs, pretending to be put out.

Warning for stucky belly kink, obviously. Also, including bloating, dirty talk about popping/bursting without it actually happening, etc.

That’s as far as that conversation ever gets with Steve teasing Bucky for his sugar addiction, though. Nothing much comes of it until… the closer Steve gets to really, actually being retired the more and more Bucky is having sweets (and the softer he’s getting (which Steve doesn’t mind, not at all)). Now it’s the same amount of candy plus more of the fucking soda that Steve wishes he never let Tony talk him into. The money goes to good causes, Steve’s seen the contracts with his own eyes, but it never gets easier to see himself in full uniform across the side of a Coke can. A propaganda pawn. Again. At least it’s for a good cause this time. Charity money.

Although, as he moves over toward total retirement, Coke is trying to get rid of the outdated cans. Steve is sure customers wouldn’t mind having the “old” Cap on their bottles for a little longer, but still, he’ll take it. Whatever he can do to help the world welcome Sam. It’s a good thing. He isn’t Cap anymore. Sam is. And you know what…

Steve should convince Sam to do it.

That’d be funny.

Steve shakes his head, pulling himself out of the idea of pranking Sam to spot the latest pallet of soda they’ve been delivered out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t turn to look at it. He wants to go inside. He does not want to inspect the pallet to see how much soda pop they have left still. More than they’ll ever drink. Correction. Way more than Steve will ever drink because Bucky is a whole different beast. Bucky’s sweet tooth is a whole different beast.

Steve walks through the front door without looking back.

“Buck?” Steve calls into their seemingly empty home. It’s early evening. Bucky surely hasn’t gone to bed yet. Could he have? Steve walks farther into their dim house, through the extry way, and into the living room. He stops in his tracks.

Huh.

There’s a good amount of those stupid Captain America Coke cans and bottles littering the coffee table. And by a good amount, Steve means there’s enough of them to cover the whole surface. The whole coffee table. Some of them are standing upright in neat rows and others have clearly fallen over, causing chaos in the same way dominos do. The coffee table is a sea of soda containers. Plus, there are even more bottles and cans lying empty and abandoned on the floor. And there are even more bottles and cans on the couch. Some of the bottles are glass and some are plastic; some are individual bottles and a few are 2-liter sharing-sized bottles. There are aluminum cans everywhere, too.

All of the containers are empty. Together, they would have - when full - held more than enough pop for anyone, no matter the side of the person’s sweet tooth.

Steve raises an eyebrow. It’s a lot.

He steps forward a little and ends up kicking a can. It crashes into more cans and bottles a few inches away.

Jesus.

It’s. a. lot. of. soda.

The amount of which only cumulatively grows as Steve follows the trail of glass bottles and plastic bottles and aluminum cans. They lead out from the living room toward the bedroom like a strange, gluttonous trail of rose petals.

With every new can or bottle or whatever fucking container, Steve’s heart races faster in his chest, and his imagination does another and another backflip. What is going to be waiting for him at the end of this trail? He almost can’t imagine it. There’s too much to imagine. Too much soda.

Before Steve even walks through the crack between the bedroom door and the doorframe, he knows Bucky is inside. He doesn’t see him - he hears him. From within the bedroom, Bucky releases a loud, deep burp that ends in a moan. The moan is so pleased and satisfied sounding with just the hint of too-much, too-good agony that Steve feels himself chub up in his pants. He knows that sound. He’s heard it plenty; he’s caused it plenty. Heat rises to his cheeks.

Before he slips through the crack in the door, Steve pauses to really imagine what Bucky will look like. Looking at the discarded bottles and cans all around his feet… it feels like there’s enough soda gone missing to fill a bathtub or more. Maybe even a bathtub and a few kiddie pools. Steve knows Bucky’s body well. Soft and plush. His fingers twitch just thinking about touching his padded frame. Luscious with sweet fat. The serum has done its best to keep him from getting stretch marks, but a few have slipped through… on his chubby belly and hips. The image of what Bucky’s body might look like after having so much soda poured into it… it’s too much for Steve. Heat hits him over the back of the head. What is waiting for him? What does he look like? How many more empty bottles are littering their bedroom?

Fuck.

Steve’s dick twitches.

How many more full bottles are in their bedroom?

Steve trembles in place when the sounds of Bucky’s gulping finally filters back into his ears. Getting past the thundering arousal in his head.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Uurp. Ah!

The sound of his chugging and ending belch and satisfied gasp assaults Steve. Jesus.

It gets better, though.

Impossibly, it gets better.

Steve’s still standing outside their bedroom when Bucky must finish his latest bottle, tossing it aside only for it to knock into other bottles and cans, tumbling against each other with that all too recognizable sound of empty plastic and aluminum colliding.

Steve can’t stand it.

He barges into the room as fast as he can.

And there he is.

There he is.

Bucky is lying back in a careless, completely indulgent fashion. He’s reclined against a pile of pillows, with pure pleasure written across his face - his expression is dopey enough that it looks like he’s been chugging beers rather than sodas. Like he’s managed to get himself drunk. He probably is drunk, Steve realizes, all that sugar making him go out of his mind. Bucky doesn’t react to Steve at first. He just keeps lying there. His eyes are so heavily lidded that they are barely, barely open at all. He’s not paying enough attention to see what’s in front of him. All he cares about is touching himself and grabbing another. His flesh and blood hand is rubbing his impossibly round gut. It sticks out in front of him like a cartoon. It doesn’t look real. It’s so round. It’s a fucking done. The few stretch marks on his sides are stretched taut and they look angry with how red they are. He looks like he might pop if he isn’t careful - Steve whimpers at his own thought. Bucky doesn’t pay him any mind. He keeps rubbing himself, letting out all these sounds. Sighs. Moans. More burps. And over it all, those sounds of pleasure, Steve swears he can hear the sound of all that pop fizzing inside him from the other side of the room. All that carbonation must be so bubbly and sloshy inside him - if he’s even got any of it left inside of him, when Bucky burps again Steve considers how long he’s been at this and how much he’s clearly making room for more… it’s probably all gone flat in there. That huge gut. How else would he have fit so much inside him?

Steve shivers.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s other hand is not rubbing his gut (even though it looks like he could use another hand), his metal hand is blindly feeling around for more.

More soda.

He finds more. This bottle is a 2-liter. He cracks it open and starts chugging like it’s nothing, like he’s still thirsty, and Steve moans in tandem with him. Bucky’s moan is muffled by the flow of soda going down his throat. So it’s mostly Steve’s sound in the quiet room. His moan gets Bucky’s attention. He can tell from the way he blossoms - he knows he’s being watched now and he’s putting on a fucking show. Always a slut for showing off. He doesn’t just keep rubbing his swelling gut, he caresses it now. Plus, he squirms a little, trying to arch his back and spread his legs, but it doesn’t do anything for him - his belly is so heavy that his back is already as arched as it can be, pulled forward by the weight. And his legs can’t get any farther apart, they were already making all the room possible for his swollen gut. His body is already doing everything it can to make sure Bucky can get more inside him.

More. More. More.

Steve is pulled like a magnet to Bucky. He makes it through the litter around their bed and crawls up onto the mattress. Before he’s even touching Bucky, he can feel the heat coming off of him. His poor skin is so red. He’s so sweaty. He’s so full. He’s trembling and clearly can’t stop it. It’s pushed his limits. He’s really fucking pushed his limits. And he’s still pushing. Still gulping. Still swelling. Fucking Christ. It makes Steve so hard. The gluttony. The need he has to get everything he can. Pure greed.

It’s impossibly fucking hot.

And it just gets hotter when Bucky is done.

His moan is almost a wail when he finally, finally is done, and he drops the bottle. He must be so full. He looks so full. Overfull. His lips are wet with drool and some overflowed pop, dripping down his fat chin. His pink, pink tongue laps at the mess, trying to clean himself up a little as he pants heavily. It doesn’t work. He’s still a mess. He can’t catch his breath. Steve can hear it. He can hear the way his body is fighting to keep all of that sweet, sugary liquid inside him, sloshing and bubbling and gurgling, and he can hear how much Bucky’s lung capacity has been reduced. His gut is taking up all the space in his body and stretching his body even bigger. So. full.

“‘M gonna-” Bucky heaves in a breath between his whimpered words, sweating “-pop.”

Steve’s hands shake violently where they hover over the bright red, hot skin of his globe-shaped gut. Steve wants to touch him more than anything. But he can’t. He can’t. Bucky is too much.

Steve whimpers, too.

“I…” Bucky struggles, rocking just a little bit from side to side, his heavy, full body wobbling. God. He looks massive. Like he’s trying to turn himself into a sphere and has gotten impressively close. “I really…” he whines, “ohhh, I really think ‘m gonna burst,” Bucky forces out, barely able to breathe, let alone talk. He’s so full. He moans. “F-full. Shit. I’m s’full.”

“Weren’t you full like a fucking hour ago?” Steve’s mouth is dry, staring at him. Vibrating in place.

He can’t take this.

He lays a hand on that gut.

Then, immediately follows the first with his second hand.

It-

It feels like heaven.

Steve can feel Bucky’s poor, poor, stretched abs trying to keep his body together. Twitching. He can feel the soda pop too - fizzing inside him. He’s feverish and glistening with sweat.

He’s overworked.

“Oh, oh, ohh,” Bucky moans with every exhale. His gut sloshes with heavy breaths. Steve can hear and feel it. Bucky’s eyes have rolled to the back of his head. His hands are over the top of Steve’s now, making sure his hands stay pressed to his gut. He can hardly keep himself together, so he needs Steve’s help. “Steeeve,” he whines.

“What-what do you want me to do? I-” Steve pauses, dizzy, “I didn’t inflate you with soda.” Just at the word ‘soda’ Bucky lets go of an agonized but hungry moan. Steve’s dick twitches. “You did, Buck,” Steve insists, pressing just a tiny bit on Bucky’s belly, impossibly tight but still liquid, sloshing around in him.

“Uunnngh,” Bucky makes a needy sound, out of breath.

“You, God, you got yourself so fucking full-”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky moans.

“-That you’re about to…” he can’t say it. There’s something about it. Something about how greedy Bucky has to be to drink so much that he thinks it’s about to be over for him, that Steve can’t give voice to. It turns him on too much to say. God, he’s so hard. He can't think. There are so many other things he can say… swollen. Full. Bloated. Fat. Heavy. Round. Big. Fucking insanely massive… but he can’t. Not that.

It’s a good thing Bucky has no such reservations.

“‘M gonna pop,” he cries out, “I’m, ‘m gonna burst, Stevie. I don’t- I don’t, oh, God, I dunno how I got it all in me. I just-” he whines, “I was just so thirsty. And it tastes so good. I can’t help myself around sugaaar! You shouldn’t’ve left me alone with it! What am I supposed to do but drink it!? Now ‘m gonna explode, oh, God, ohh, fuck ‘m gonna explode... s’ all your fault!”

Steve-

There’s no elegant way to say it.

Steve just comes in his pants. Entirely untouched.

Bucky can’t just say shit like that. That he’s gonna burst. He’s gonna pop. He’s gonna explode. He can’t control himself - he’s too gluttonous, too greedy - and now he’s gotten too big. Too big to handle. Too swollen. Unable to take the pressure inside. Unable to be so full.

So. full.

It’s too much for Steve, he shivers and shakes through his orgasm, whimpering, “you’re so big, s’ tight, gonna fuckin’ explode. You’re so big. You’re gonna pop. Burst. Gonna-” until he’s done.

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #bloating #soda bloat #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby bucky

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shares-a-vest · 2 years ago

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Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 8: Rituals

Prompt List

Today I have a bunch of headcanons about each of the Fruity Four's typical Christmas traditions/rituals. Feel free to yell with me in my inbox about these. I could literally write all day about people making and sharing food.

Steve Harrington

Steve's Christmas traditions are really only three years old. Sure, he has dinner with his parents, grandma and his great aunt Doris but that's a silent, formal dinner on Christmas Eve that his parents don't even like, it's mainly to placate the oldies.

His parents each host their respective work Christmas parties at the house. His mother's is more of a fancy dinner party. Whereas his father's company has an absolute rager that rivals all those King Steve parties.

He takes every shift available at Family Video to get away from his mum who, despite thinking she is like a Martha-Stewart-level hostess, is not.

He drives the kids around Christmas shopping. It's probably the most chaotic carpooling gets because no one is organised and getting the boys to actually pick out thoughtful gifts is like pulling teeth. He'll get all analytical giving his wisdom about how to buy gifts for girls.

He helps Max wrap her gifts and might conveniently bring a nice dinner over to the Mayfields.

Max and Dustin both call him on Christmas morning. Max asks (for like the billionth time) if he would like to spend Christmas at her house, while Dustin triple-checks he is coming over for lunch.

He insists on making dessert for the Henderson's Christmas lunch.

He buys Claudia flowers and perfume (gifts he used to give his mum before his parents gradually fazed out presents).

Steve bakes gingerbread for the kids and has Robin wrap them with nice tags for each kid.

He'll stay in the Christmas sweater Claudia gifts him for Christmas until it stops snowing.

Nancy Wheeler

Nancy's Christmas is largely dictated by the traditions of Wheeler family - their Christmases being basically the same, well-oiled machine every year.

She takes Holly shopping, wanting to include her in the grown-up stuff.

She gave up on taking Mike shopping a couple of years ago, he never had any decent ideas for their parent's gifts anyway. Plus he always wanted to sit down for snacks which Nance never budgeted for.

She spends a really long time picking out Christmas cards.

And uses a pretty, gold marker pen to write on her Christmas cards.

She always writes beautiful long messages, always personal and heartfelt.

The Wheeler's typically travel to see extended family before Christmas because Karen likes having just the family at home on Christmas morning.

Nancy and Mike spend a lot of time over Christmas playing video games together.

She makes sugar cookies for when The Party hold a holiday campaign in the basement. She makes them with Holly's help and it's the one time she allows Mike to take credit (only if he still includes Holly).

She typically ends up putting up the outside Christmas lights because Karen and Ted argue about how hapless his efforts are.

She drives when the family goes around looking at Christmas lights.

Nancy and Karen will spend hours together decorating the Christmas tree, just like they've been doing since she was a kid.

Robin Buckley

Robin's Christmas traditions are pretty much entirely focused around her busy crafting schedule and how much time her parents make her spend with extended family.

She makes every gift herself, including cards and tags and, if she has enough time, wrapping paper.

She accompanies Steve with his Christmas shopping, although she's a bit distracting, linking their arms and pulling him in every direction.

Robin and her brother Cameron have a movie marathon every year, sticking strictly to Christmas movies.

Cameron doesn't let Steve in on their traditions. It's not that he doesn't like Steve, he just wants to spend time with his sister.

The Buckley family goes to their grandparent's house on Christmas Day for dinner with the entire extended family.

Robin spends pretty much the whole time sitting in the corner with Cameron and her favourite cousin, Marcie, chatting away a million miles an hour about movies and TV.

She calls Steve multiple times on Christmas, in the morning and when he's at Dustin's to make sure he is happy.

Her aunts and uncles pester her about having a boyfriend and that's typically when she'll make an excuse to go and call Steve.

She'll set the table for dinner, making it look like something out of a catalogue but she is not allowed anywhere near the kitchen (which extends beyond Christmas, she's a hopeless cook).

Robin and her mum make Christmas ornaments, including painted baubles.

She has to suffer through her father's horribly unfunny comedy records over the Christmas break.

Eddie Munson

Eddie's Christmas traditions date back to his first Christmas with Wayne.

Wayne has always asked for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off at the plant. "I have a kid at home," he says.

Eddie is surprisingly relaxed over Christmas, probably because he knows his uncle is happy to have a few days off work.

He waits on Wayne over the holidays insisting, "Put your feet up, old man".

Up until Christmas 1984, he went with Wayne to visit his dad in prison. It was Wayne's idea to go and his decision to stop. He just felt this nagging obligation. The final straw was Eddie's father making fun of him for needing to repeat senior year.

Eddie takes flowers to his mother's grave on Christmas Eve. He'll sit and talk, and sing quietly. Wayne goes a couple of days before Christmas and tells her how Eddie's doing.

Eddie will stroll over to Max's mid-Christmas morning to see how her mum is doing and (instructed by Wayne) asks if they would like to join them for dinner.

They'll schedule the whole day around whatever time It's a Wonderful Life is airing. It's one of Wayne's favourite movies, being a huge fan of Jimmy Stewart (he likes his westerns best).

Wayne buys "the fancy, expensive" coco for the holidays. Yes, he also has festive coffee mugs.

Eddie cooks an elaborate breakfast, while Wayne makes a roast for dinner.

Eddie sits around playing Wayne's favourite blues music on his acoustic. Wayne sometimes plays a little too (he thinks he's no good compared to his nephew).

They smoke a bit of Eddie's good weed. Not too much because Wayne wants to savour their Christmas and not be totally baked.

Wayne buys Claudia Henderson a nice bottle of wine and flowers for Christmas for all the food she sends with Dustin when he's over visiting Eddie.

#idk if robin canonically has a brother or its a headcanon that has melted into my brain???#whatever he exists now and his name is cameron #look at me projecting onto Nancy and Robin as I hurtle closer to Christmas :/#the fruity four #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #StrangerThingsFestiveFun

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rebelliousfamily · 2 years ago

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alwaysthesitter:

“I would sure hope so. It’s not like I haven’t been cooking for myself for years.” He snorted, as he went back into the kitchen to make sure that final preparations were completed and everything was cooked fully. He didn’t want to give Nancy any burnt food, sure, but he also didn’t want to get her anything that was uncooked. Turning off the stove and the oven, he worked hard at plating everything. Cooking? Strong point. Plating? Okay, it definitely looked like a twenty year old had just thrown stuff together. No master chef qualities there.

He opened the wine, pouring them both a glass, before lighting the candles in the middle of the table. Nothing fancy, in fact he had found them buried in the back of his parents’ cupboards. Probably something fancy that his parents had used back when they used to invite people to dinners at the Harrington household, before they realized Hawkins was too boring for a place for them and started having their fancy shindigs elsewhere. Was it a bit over the top? Maybe. But Nancy was worth it.

Washing his hands, he moved back over into the living room, leaning against the doorframe with a gentle smile. It felt like no time at all had passed, so he didn’t know why his stomach felt like it was fluttering and his palms felt sweaty. First date feelings in a way, but also…..not first date feelings. It was weird. “Hey, everything is ready, if you want to come eat. Or I can bring it out here on the TV trays, if it’s like, too formal to eat in the dining room.”

“I’ll come through to the dining room. You seem like you’ve put in a lot of effort.” She told him and grinned. She wanted to be able to appreciate it in the way that Steve had planned it out. With the candles and it being more romantic than ever.

She came over and pressed a kiss to his cheek gently. “I can’t wait. I’m sure that you have made an amazing meal.” She smiled fondly. She was looking forward to just being with him. To making another go at their relationship. She wanted to be able to actually be in a lasting relationship. One where the two of them cared for each other.

She grinned at him and headed into the dining room. It was as if nothing had changed but, like everything had changed all at the same time. “Do we have any dessert?” She asked him and tilted her head to the side.

#alwaysthesitter #full of surprises isnt she {nancy wheeler}#its a queue!

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familyvideostevie · 2 years ago

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Steve just trying to be romantic and run a bath for when you get home. Opening the door to your home you can smell dinners simmering over the stove. rather than the dinner table being laid hes lit candles all around the living room and placed the sofa cushions around the coffee table so you can eat and finish the rest of whatever series you’re watching.

Steve’s doing all this because he loves you and wants you to feel as much. He also thinks you’ve been really stressed this week and wants to make sure you’re looked after and that’s his job isn’t it? As your boyfriend? Well he makes it his mission to dote on you when you arrive home. Expecting nothing in return just for you. To make you happy.

what Steve doesn’t count on is you being a lustful excuse of a person. All the thought, all the effort he’s put into making your evening perfect just because he can? Just because he wants you to feel cared for? to let you know that stressed or not you deserve to be treated with all the care in world.

it makes you feral.

each new discovery of awfully kind display of boyfriend behaviour sets you on fire. Until finally you’re clawing at him and through his blown pupils and reddening cheeks he’s going to give you everything you want. but he’s half confused and a lot turned on. thinking I’ve got your favourite dessert in the freezer and a I saw a book you might like that was going to give to you later but my baby wants me to rail them into submission so who am I to deny them with a “take what you need baby, I can show you so many more ways that I love you-” separating your legs by kicking his between your ankles and dropping to his knees.

“-from right here.” he looks up at you doe eyed and feigning innocence. but from the quirk of his smile it’s clear he’s planning on reducing you to a quivering wreck if it’s the last thing he does. warm palms searching up the flesh at the back of your thighs.

oh boy. you....are onto something here

the thing is he's got something in the oven and hes laid the table but youre in the kitchen looking so lovely and he knows you and he can just tell that you're keyed up and when you tell him that you just want him and he would always be enough he does a mental calculation and hes got 10 min until he needs to take the food out so he gently pushes you against the counter and drops to his knees and slowly, slowly pulls down your underwear and bunches up your dress and palms your thighs, leans in an inhales and you bury a hand in his hair and then he just drags the flat of his tongue and laughs because youre literally soaked

anyway he makes you come before dinner is done then fucked you seven ways to sunday after dinner <3

#my brain gave up here but i wanted to write the whole thing #inbox steve #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader

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ellewritesandrants · 2 years ago

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I know a few people have done the Billy has an allergy AU but here’s my take on it. Just a warning that I have no experience with peanut allergies, only seasonal based ones so I may not have the most accurate interpretation of it.

Billy Hargrove’s always been just lucky enough to count his blessings but never lucky enough to consider himself blessed. Case in point, his mom left him but he still had his dad. However, his dad was an abusive piece of shit who didn’t believe in anything science said which meant that every time he got sick after his mom left, the only thing he had to heal him was the power of prayer.

Neil was the kind of bastard who believed that him getting sick was a punishment for being bad so Billy didn’t get to take any rest days, didn’t get to take any medicine unless it was in secret and he didn’t even get to go to the doctor unless he absolutely had to and even then, it was a battle and half before, during and after.

Neil was also the kind of bastard to believe that allergies didn’t exist and that they could be trained away if Billy wasn’t such a pansy. From the moment his 1st grade teacher sent him home with a note about an allergic reaction he had to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich his mom had packed him, Billy had been doomed to a life of exposure therapy, with Neil going so far as to use it as his favorite form of punishment. It might have even worked had it been done right but the way Neil weaponized his allergy made it into a form of torture instead.

When Susan and Max came into his life, Neil was quick to say that peanut butter was one of Billy’s favorite spreads and that he loved peanuts. Every time Susan made something with peanut butter, Billy had to be polite and respectful. He had to eat his portion to respect the effort Susan had put in even if it made his eyes itch and his throat swell. Billy was just lucky that it wasn’t deadly or else he’d have long been gone.

Billy had gotten used to it, even daring to find some tricks that helped it be easier for him to deal with it but unlike the others, he never outgrew his allergy even with his somewhat constant exposure to peanuts. Over time, it never got any easier but life had to go on.

All in all, if asked, Billy would say he has a pretty good handle on it on a day to day basis. He managed to avoid them whenever possible outside of the house and he lives after every time Neil forces him to finish whatever peanut butter filled abomination Susan made for dessert under the guise of pleasing everyone since Max unironically loved anything peanut.

Things got a lot easier when he was able to move out and support himself because even if he was poor, at least he didn’t have to be in pain anymore. He even managed to cook all of his own meals now that he had control so he wouldn’t trigger his allergies. When he and Steve had moved in together, he’d made sure to take over cooking and Steve never noticed the lack of anything peanut related in their house since Billy also did the grocery shopping.

Billy had never felt the need to tell anyone else about his allergies because he was able to avoid it anyway plus Neil would tan his hide if Billy spread that he had an allergy like a wimp. Even after he moved out, he just graciously accepted whatever peanut filled thing was given to him, all too used to pretending he didn’t feel his throat swell and his heart start to pound.

It had been a good year and a half since he moved out and for the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had his allergies triggered. He was feeling good and happy and with his birthday coming up and with Neil long gone out of town, Billy was looking forward to it for once.

It all came crashing down as soon as he had his first bite of the cake. Steve and Joyce had gone all out, even deciding to bake the cake instead of buying it. Billy could taste the staggering amount of peanuts crammed into the cake and the sheer amount had his allergic reaction going on overdrive.

He didn’t have the time to control his choking or gasping for breath and be could only watch as the faces of joy and laughter turned into terror and panic. He could vaguely hear Joyce asking Will to get his Epipen but even that was fading in and out. His ears were buzzing and his head was spinning. He hadn’t had such a bad allergic reaction in years and of course, it would be to a homemade cake made by the people he loved who had no idea about his allergy.

Thankfully, he was just lucky enough to survive even with them bringing him to the hospital as soon as possible. The EpiPen Will had gotten had possibly saved him from going into anaphylactic shock and Billy had woken up to a completely filled hospital room full of worried and tired faces.

“Mom, look! Billy’s awake!” Will exclaimed.

Joyce startled awake, clutching his hand, tears building in her eyes.

“Thank God you’re alright, Billy.”

“How long was I out?”

A warm hand fell to his shoulder but it was a familiar warmth.

“It was just a day but you had us all worried, son.” Hopper said.

“Why?”

“Why? You almost died, Billy. If Will hadn’t gotten his EpiPen when he did, you might’ve been dead. Why did you tell us you had a peanut allergy, babe? Especially one this bad.”

“Neil believes that allergies are for pansies and that you can train them away with constant exposure so he told Susan and Max that I loved peanuts.”

“That fucking bastard!” Joyce snarled.

“What? How did you get through mom’s desserts then?” Max wondered out loud.

“Ice water, a prayer and a few tricks from some books I read. I haven’t triggered it in a year or so since I moved out so it must’ve been detrained or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“Well, we won’t know until I ask the doctor. When’d they say that I’d be free to go home?”

“The doctor said you could go today if they finish running the last few tests to make sure you’re fully recovered, but not without an EpiPen of your own.”

“It’s not like it was my choice, Joyce!”

“Still! That Neil Hargrove better stay away from me because the next time I see him, I’ll give him a good kick in the balls and see how he likes that.” Joyce declared.

“And I’ll pretend I heard nothing. Now, I don’t think this was the birthday you were hoping for but once you’re free, we can have a do-over. Does that sound good to you, Billy?” Hopper asked.

“Sure! I’d never say no to another party.”

“Yeah, but this time peanuts are strictly banned. Out of curiosity, is there anything else that you’re allergic to?”

“Well, I don’t really do all that well with dairy if you get my drift. Sometimes, gluten makes my stomach hurt so I tend to eat pretty healthy as a result.”

“We’ll take note of that for the party. Focus on your recovery for now, baby. Don’t think I can’t see you struggling to keep your eyes open. Go to sleep, Billy. We’ll all still be here when you wake up.”

“M’kay. Love you and everyone too. Thanks for being here.”

While Billy is asleep, every peanut product in the Byer-Hopper and Hargrove-Harrington household was summarily thrown out by the Party and Steve put Dustin to work researching gluten free and dairy free recipes for the party they’d be throwing. Everyone was once again made aware of everyone’s allergies just to make sure they didn’t accidentally trigger anyone else.

The party was a huge success and Billy found out what it was like to have a family that cared enough to take his allergies into consideration and to find people who wanted him to be happy and healthy even if it meant they’d have to do more work for it. For once, Billy felt loved and treasured and cared for by the people that surrounded him and he couldn’t be any happier.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #billy deserved better #billy hargrove au #billy hargrove deserved better #steve harrington #ellewritesandrants #billy x steve #billy hargrove redemption #stranger things rewrite #billy and joyce #joyce byers #billy and hopper #jim hopper #joyce x jim #tw allergic reaction #tw allergies #soft billy hargrove

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egcdeath · 3 years ago

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ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it.

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down.

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by.

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home.

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out.

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself.

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry.

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss.

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends.

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve.

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on.

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine.

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument.

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face.

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in.

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand.

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer.

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him.

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment.

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room.

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you.

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you.

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you.

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace.

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material.

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry.

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth.

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle.

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose.

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony.

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise.

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say.

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change.

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love.

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt.

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious.

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him.

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether.

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back.

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly.

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly.

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested.

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same?

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far.

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so.

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick.

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it.

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note.

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning.

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment.

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness.

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom.

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep.

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard.

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work.

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier.

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break.

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen.

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window.

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks.

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you.

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool.

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.”

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket.

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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syiano · 4 years ago

Note

Just one more, sorry about that ... How about a preference in which the avengers ask the reader to marry him? Showing how it would be and how nervous they would be with it.

THIS ONE IS CUTE- also thank you for your patience on this one.

{Requested}

Avengers x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: How They Propose To You

---------------------------

Steve is nervous about proposing to you. He wants to make it really special for the both of you. He takes you to a place where he knows the both of you love the most, a place where you shared lots of memories together. He adds flowers and candles to the setting and you'll notice there's many pictures of the you and him together. Eventually, he kisses the back of your hand and gets on one knee and telling you how much you made him feel welcomed, and how you were always there for him.

Bucky is nervous when he plans on proposing to you. He's afraid of rejection, but gets lots of reassuring from Steve, Sam, and Natasha, telling him how much you love him and how you stayed with him all this time. He prefers to make his proposal more private, and brings you flowers before taking you to a nice, and quiet place.

He's more affectionate than usual, and wants to make sure how much he means, and you notice how nervous he is. He places your hand ontop of yours and confesses to you while stuttering on how gave him the courage to keep going, and how grateful he is to have someone like you by his side, before pulling out his ring, while tearing up at also on how happy he is.

Tony takes you to a fancy restaurant and buys dessert for you, and he nervously waits for the right moment and he still manages to cracks a couple of jokes.

Tony does make sure the two of you are alone (like a VIP section?). Even though Tony normally goes all out (in public) he prefers to propose to you to you're more comfortable and incase you don't want the whole news about you being engaged infront of everyone. He does manage to play around and while you ramble on and on, he gets down on his knee, pretending to listen to you. When you'd finally get the message, he would say, "what? You gonna say yes, or what, sweetheart?"

Sam dresses all fancy for you and is just overall exicted and confident about the proposal. When you ask him what's this all about, he tells you it's a surprise and tells you to close your eyes as he leads you to the rooftop. He makes sure your eyes are still closed as he leads you to the middle and places many rose petals as he gets down on one knee. When he tells you to turn around and open your eyes as you release the petals, white pigeons fly in the background, as he holds the open ring box to you.

Scott literally practices his 'lines' for his proposal all day infront of a mirror ('cause he's Scott) and is just incredibly nervous and freaking out. But he still proposes to you during a party ('cause he's Scott). The party is made all for you, and he wants you to have the best time before he makes a speech before proposing to you.

(NERVOUS BOI INTENSIFIES) Man, Peter is a stuttering mess throughout the day because he's been thinking all day about proposing to you. He panics about everything that can go wrong (while Tony just tells him to chill and that it's going to go great. He decides to have a picnic with you and while you're not looking, he tries to get the ring box out (while just scrambling all over the place) and then the ring eventually falls out where you see it.

Then, he shyly looks at you and you and tries to tell you how much he loves you and how much he wants to repay for the amount of times you've comforted him, only to stutter with his words, but you can still understand what he's saying before cutting him off by kissing him.

Bruce proposes to you at home. He does dress up all nice for you and decorates the house, making the place all fancy and pleasant for you. Bruce makes dinner for the both of you (he most likely cooks something that you always wanted to try so badly, and he learned how to cook it for you). He then leads you to your shared room with petals on the floor, flowers, or pictures of the both of you as he gets down on one knee and proposes to you.

Thor proposes to you either on Earth or Asgard. Either way, he completely out does himself and wants to make sure everything is perfect for you. When you'd be amazed at all the effort he's put into, you'll notice how he just stares at you with adoring eyes. Thor tells you how grateful he is and how he hopes to spend the rest of his life with you, and promising never to leave your side and to give you every last of his affections.

Similiar to Thor, he either proposes on Asgard or Earth, but the way he proposes and plans it out stays the same; he takes you to a more quiet place with all your favorite things along with others that you thought you could never have, only to be stunned when he got it for you. Loki does admit to himself that he's nervous, but tries not to show it. You can hear and see him tear up with a bright smile as he gets on one knee and tells you how you made him feel so accepted and wondering what he did to deserve you, but promises to treasure every last moment with you.

Pietro is more playful with his proposal; he literally makes a trail that goes from your favorite parts of the city, with words that start off with you know, 'will' 'you'... and then so on.

When you gather all the words and reach the end of the trail, he's on one knee with a bunch of flowers, with huge smirk on his face at your surprised reaction.

#Requested #Marvel Preferences #Avengers Preferences #Steve x male reader #Bucky x male reader #Tony x male reader #Tony Stark x male reader #Sam Wilson x male reader #Sam x male reader #Scott Lang x male reader #Peter x male reader #Peter Parker x male reader #Bruce Banner x male reader #Bruce x male reader #Thor x male reader #Loki x male reader #Pietro Maximoff x male reader #Pierto x male reader

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welldonebeca · 3 years ago

Text

I'll (Never) Love Again V - III

Summary: After a stressful year, the battle of New York and the loss of a close friend, you decide to take a break and spend the holiday season in Asgard. Things are messy in your life. Tony is going through something he doesn't want to talk about, Steve was figuring the new century out, and all you want is to have a few weeks of peace while getting to know your boyfriend's family better. When a war breaks out, your plans change. WC: 1.1k words Warnings: Canon divergence, fluff. All of the Asgardian traditions here are based on fictional and real traditions from Saturnalia, Game of Thrones and Midsommar (2020). A lot of flirting.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

I’ll (Never) Love Again - Masterlist

Year -8 (2012)

The mahogany table in the centre of the room was full of good, thought not as big and long as the first feast you had first attended in Asgard, though there were only four seats.

You knew exactly who was supposed to be there with you, but you didn’t want to think about it. It would hurt all four of you to do so, and you wouldn’t dare to bring such a thing up.

“A feast for us,” Thor kissed your cheek. “Come, my love.”

You frowned, and giggled when he pulled you along with him and to his lap on his seat, a large chair.

“Thor!” you squeaked.

Your boyfriend put his arms around your body, squeezing you tightly.

“I want it to be perfect,” he whispered, looking up at your face, and you could see his eyes softening as they stared at you. “When we spent our first Sukkot together, you made it perfect.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I wanted you to have a good time,” you reached for his hand, pulling it to your lips and kissing it gently. “And it was Passover.”

Your boyfriend chuckled.

“Well, you have your holidays and every time you introduce a new one to me, it is the most graceful of days,” he insisted. “And this is the first time you spent Yule with me. I want you to feel just as happy as when you introduced them to me.”

You kissed his knuckles again, caressing his skin gently.

“Whatever you do,” you told him. "I’m sure it will be wonderful.”

“Which is why I will put all possible effort into making it perfect,” he insisted, kissing your shoulder gently. “Like a good Alpha.”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, finally understanding why he was so pumped about it.

“Thor…” you sighed.

“A good Alpha provides,” he insisted. “And you will let me do that.”

You scoffed but squirmed when he kissed your neck, giggling as he rubbed his nose over your neck, feeling your face heating up in a blush when Frigga sent you a mischievous look.

“I’ll go sit down,” you tried standing up from over Thor’s lap.

“Oh, you don’t worry,” she sat down beside Odin, at the other side of the table. “Thor has been missing you for weeks, you two have the right to be cosy.”

You squirmed, still blushing, and Thor chuckled, holding you as he served the two of you, pouring wine for the two of you before going the same with meat and the other foods. Everything was very delicious, and your boyfriend was sure to make you taste everything.

“Here,” he raised a chalice to your lips, kissing your arm gently. “Strawberry wine. Weak, but very sweet.”

You raised your fingers, wrapping them around the metal glass, and sipped on the sweet liquid, surprised at the taste. It was, indeed, very sweet.

“Is this your version of dessert wine?” you asked, surprised.

You didn’t expect to get drunk from this - you’d lived through enough eras without getting drunk to know this was just a little bit of extra sugar in your blood.

He kissed your chin.

“It can be,” he caressed your side. “But it isn’t dessert time yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, a little confused, and he put his drink down.

“First, the gifts.”

Your eyes widened in confusion and shock. When Thor had told you about Yule, he was insistent that the first day of Yule didn’t consist of gift-giving.

You hadn’t brought them anything for today.

“What gifts?” you repeated.

“Your gifts,” Odin stood up.

You looked between him, Frigga and Thor, still puzzled.

“Today?” you repeated.

“It is your first day of Yule,” your boyfriend’s mother remarked. “Tradition dictates you are to be gifted by the whole family.”

You blinked a little, and turned to Thor, who was smiling mischievously.

“You didn’t say anything about that.”

Your boyfriend chuckled.

“Because it is a tradition,” he shrugged. “You wouldn’t let us if you knew.”

You scoffed, and raised your gaze back to his parents as his father put a big chest at your feet.

“From Frigga and I to you,” he told you. “A gift fit for a princess.”

You moved your eyes to him, and then to Thor, who kissed your neck again.

“You’ll show them off to me,” he whispered into your ear. “When we are in private.”

Your cheeks heat up, and your boyfriend chuckled as you stood up from his thighs, kneeling on the floor and opening the chest, gasping with wide eyes as your eyes took in the rich-looking fabrics, shoes and jewellery waiting for you.

“Thor told us you were unsure of what to wear during Yule,” Frigga walked to you, wielding a long, golden spear. “And we thought we could be helpful.”

You looked over at your boyfriend, who just shrugged with a little smile.

“Marriage or not,” Odin looked at you. “You are the princess of Asgard, and we are here to help you through the process of adapting to that.”

You smiled at them, relaxing a bit, and Thor touched your shoulder.

“I have something for you too,” he told you, standing behind you and holding your hand as you raised fully to your feet.

Your boyfriend took the spear from his mother’s hand and stood in front of you, presenting the thin weapon to you.

“You can’t fight with your hands to save your life,” he grinned. “And while we work on that…”

You let your fingers run over the light metal around your fingers. It was a simple spear, nothing very elaborate, just a safe and strong weapon.

“Enough time for you to bring up one of your spells,” he raised your free hand to his face, kissing your knuckles. “Of course, we will work on your skills.”

Frigga chuckled.

“I don’t think you will, son,” she grinned. “I doubt you would ever raise a hand to train punches with your princess.”

You giggled.

“I have agents for that,” you assured her.

You certainly needed to schedule some training sessions with Hill when you were back home.

“Oh,” Thor pulled by your waist. “You doubt my willingness to test your skills?”

“One hundred per cent,” you rested the spear aside and put your arms over his shoulders. “With a lot of love.”

Thor chuckled and his face softened.

“You are right,” he agreed. “I would rather die than ever purposefully cause you pain.”

You smiled, and he learnt in your direction, kissing your lips gently.

“Now,” he squeezed your waist. “Dessert time.”

You stepped away from him, ready to sit on your chair, but your boyfriend pulled you closer again.

“We both know this isn’t your seat,” he winked, sitting back down on his chair and pulling you along, pointing to himself. “This is your seat.”

. . .

Chapters 4, 5 and 6 are already up on Patreon. If you want to read it before anyone else, come sign up! It’s just U$2 a month!

. . .

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tuiccim · 4 years ago

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TikTok Trend: #FirstDate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1453

Warnings: Angst, language

Summary: A first date with Billy and a chance to check out Anvil.

A/N: Divider by @whimsicalrogers

TikTok Trend Series Masterlist

The next morning you are smiling at your phone as you walk to the kitchen to get coffee. Billy had sent a text saying, “Good morning, gorgeous. Look forward to seeing you tonight.” You know it’s a line, but you can’t help feeling flattered. As you round the corner, you run smack into Bucky. You drop your phone and Bucky swoops down to pick it up. He looks at the message still up on the screen. His eyes meet yours with a sad look before handing your phone back and retreating to his room. Your stomach twists, but then you straighten your shoulders and continue your quest for coffee.

Later that morning, you work on a video to post. “Hey guys! I have a date tonight! Help me pick a dress!” The TikTok video continued showing you modeling three dresses. “Okay, comment red, blue, or black! I’ll show the final look before I head out tonight.” You blow a kiss and send the video to the PR team. It was approved and posted within twenty minutes and your phone began dinging with notifications.

PR let you know an hour and a half before your date that the red dress had won. You got ready and set your phone up for a quick video. “Hey guys! The red dress won. Here’s the final look. Wish me luck!” You post the video, bypassing PR, and head to the elevator. Billy was going to pick you up at the front of the tower at your request. He had offered to come up, but you didn’t want another awkward encounter. Billy pulls up in a Rolls Royce Wraith. You smile and raise an eyebrow at him as you slide in the passenger side, “Hi.”

“You look gorgeous.” Billy smiles.

“Thank you. You look good, too.”

“I made an effort.” Billy jokes. He takes you to an Italian restaurant you had never been to before. A bottle of wine, a delicious meal, and lots of talking and flirting ensue.

“Tell me more about Anvil.” You encourage him and he launches into a full explanation of what they do and some of the jobs they’ve taken on. He’s enthusiastic in his descriptions of the company business and you enjoy hearing about some of the jobs. “Sounds like you enjoy the work.”

“I do and I take my business seriously, I’m very hands on.” He says. “What about your work?”

“I love it for the most part.”

“What parts don’t you love?” Billy narrows his eyes appraisingly at you.

“Sometimes Steve is a little too goody two shoes for me, I guess. He sees the world in black and white, good and evil, I see it in shades of gray. Sometimes good comes out of bad and bad things come out of good things. Steve doesn’t see it that way and it can occasionally cause friction between the two of us. I… I wasn’t always one of the good guys. There was a time that I was part of the criminal element. SHIELD found me and turned me, turned my life around, but… I don’t know. I guess I feel like Steve still holds that against me at times.” You swirl your wine in your glass as you speak and then look up at Billy to see his reaction.

“You like to color outside the lines. I like that. So, tell me what happened with the whole Bucky thing?” Billy’s eyes are piercing as he asks the questions. His stiff jaw signals feelings of jealousy.

“You mean the TikTok video and the aftermath?” You look away for a second, “Bucky live broadcasted a video he wasn’t supposed to. PR called us in almost immediately after. Two former baddies getting together just doesn’t look good apparently. Then a week later he starts dating Sharon.” You roll your eyes and shrug.

“You don’t like her?” Billy asks.

“Everyone kisses her ass because she’s Peggy Carter’s legacy. Bucky’s always had a thing for her, but she dated Steve. I guess he finally decided to go for sloppy seconds anyway.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” Billy chuckles.

You smirk, “One thing about me you should know, Billy, I don’t sugar coat shit and I tell it like it is.”

Billy studies you for a moment before leaning forward, “I like you more and more. We’re doing some training exercises at Anvil on Thursday. I’d like you to come by and observe. Maybe give your opinion.”

“My consulting fee is hefty.” You smirk at him.

“Come by. See what we do.” Billy pushes.

“I have a mission briefing first thing tomorrow. I might be out of pocket for a few days, but I’ll let you know.” You sip your wine.

“Would you care to see the dessert menu?” Billy asks as he sees the waiter making his way over.

“Mmm, no. I’m watching my figure.” You smile.

“I’ve been watching it all night. It’s exquisite.” Billy smiles slyly. He pays the check even though you offer and leads you out to his car. He takes you to a club where the two of you dance and flirt for a few hours. Afterward, he drives you home and walks you into the building. He kisses you good night at the elevator and says he’ll text you. You are barely in your room before you get a text.

Billy: Sleep well, Beautiful. Hope to see you Thursday.

You: Stop texting and driving.

Billy: I live dangerously.

You: Just remember I only date live men. Good night, handsome.

Billy: I’m at a stop light. G’Night, gorgeous.

The next morning, you head into the conference room for the mission briefing and are inundated by Tony the minute you walk in the door. “How was your date last night?”

“Phenomenal,” you take your place and watch as Bucky enters, glances at his usual seat next to you, and then moves to one further down the conference table. You do your best to hide your hurt at the snub.

“Where did Russo take you?” Tony asks.

“Giovanni’s and then to Pulse.” You reply, glancing back at Bucky’s surly demeanor. When you look back to Tony he raises an eyebrow at you in a suggestive manner and you scoff. “Then back here since I had an early morning briefing.”

Steve, Nat, Wanda, Vision, and Sam clamor in then, nearly overshadowing the sound of Bucky’s aggravated grunt but you caught the noise. You look back at him and he is glaring in Tony’s direction. You turn to the front where Steve and Tony begin giving mission details. A two day mission that should be fairly easy to accomplish. Perfect for you, you’ll be back in time to check out Anvil.

The mission went off without a hitch. You had received texts from Billy each day and the two of you had talked back and forth. So when Thursday rolled around, you donned an outfit that was both flattering and appropriate for training exercises. You had a feeling Billy was going to put you into action one way or another.

You arrive at the Anvil facility on your bike and find Billy waiting in the parking lot for you.

“Hello Gorgeous.” Billy smiles, “I should have guessed you’d have a bike.”

“Hey there, handsome. It’s hot, right?” You sass.

“Very. Let me show you around.” Billy surprises you by holding out a hand. You take it and he walks you into the building. He shows you the tactical course and explains the exercises they are running. He takes you up on a catwalk to watch as the teams move through the exercises. Billy asks your opinion at several points and you point out your observations. He takes you down to meet with a few of the team members. He motions to his three best men and says, “gauntlet.”

Immediately, you tense, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The three encircle you and you spend the next several minutes fighting them. You take each of them down without serious injury until Billy tells them to stop. You smooth your hair, rub a bit of blood from your lip, and look up at Billy.

He approaches you with a smile, “you handled that better than I expected.”

As soon as he’s close enough you lunge forward, headbutting him directly in the mouth. He grabs his mouth and leans away while looking at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Oops. Should I have said ‘gauntlet’ first?” You sass.

Billy smiles and a drop of blood rolls down his chin from his split lip, “I love your fire. I have an offer for you. Let’s go to my office to talk.”

“Lead the way.” You smirk.

Part 5

Masterlist

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avengerscompound · 3 years ago

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The Tower: Happily Ever After - 17

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 3155

Warnings: smut (MMF, oral sex, rimming, vaginal sex, throat fucking, come play)

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children. Yet things aren’t perfect. Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 17: An Academic Retreat

What Thor had said to me about everyone waiting for me and how I needed to reconnect stuck with me for a while. I made the effort to come out and spend time with everyone and tried to be attentive and tuned in. The effort I put into connecting with them helped me feel better too. Focusing on the others stopped me from spiraling in my own dark thoughts. Every day things felt more like they were before and I was happy to finally be feeling not just normal, but happy.

After a couple of days, I became aware of something that hadn’t really clicked before. Tony and Bruce were barely around. The need to get communications working between Asgard and Earth was taking up most of their time. We’d see them at dinner and have some evenings with them and that was it.

So I decided I would go to them, and I planned what I hoped would be a special visit.

We didn’t bring a lot of our clothes with us from Earth, but I did have some of my lab coats for when I planned to start working in the labs too. Microbiology was more of a hobby for me these days, but I didn’t think it would work so well if I was in full Asgardian regalia while I pulled apart strands of DNA.

I put on some lingerie - a matching bra and panty set in red lace with a garter and black stockings - and a pair of heels and then put the coat on over it, buttoning it up at the front. I didn’t want this to be about only sex though. Or even make it so that sex was a mandatory endgame to why I was visiting. It had been a long time since I had slept with either of them and for me and Tony particularly, that was unusual. But this was about connection and if sex was not what either of them wanted, us spending time together was fine. So I arranged for a picnic to be set up in the garden and I put the twins in a stroller. Bruce and Tony had both been missing out on spending time with the babies, and I wanted to give that to them too. Wanda would come and take them for their sleep after lunch to give me some alone time with my scientists.

With Inky and Icy at my heels, I wheeled the babies up to the lab and ducked my head inside.

“Working hard?” I asked.

“More or less,” Tony answered without looking up. “What’s up?”

“I was just taking these two for a walk,” I answered, smiling to myself about the fact that neither Bruce nor Tony had looked over yet. They were just completely focused on their work. “They’re in rare form. Both awake, neither crying.”

“What good babies,” Bruce said, finally looking over. He laughed when he saw me. “You seem to be sending out some mixed signals, El.”

“They aren’t mixed,” I said as Tony’s eyes suddenly snapped up. “Think of them as courses. The one under here -” I tugged on the hem of the coat. “Is dessert.”

“I do like dessert,” Tony said.

“If that’s dessert - what's the main course?” Bruce asked.

“Gotta follow me,” I said.

“Okay, okay,” Tony said and put a few tools away. “Let’s go.”

We headed out into the hall and Bruce took over pushing the twins.

“How’s the communications setup with Earth going?” I asked as I led them out to the garden.

“We can do voice calls fine. No problem. Not even a lag,” Tony explained. “But if we do anything with video it’s patchy at best. They cut in and out or there’s a huge delay. Holo Projection we can’t even get to work.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” I said, rubbing his back. “You are a genius after all.”

“It’s just that I had hoped it would be done by now. We’ve been working on it for months,” Tony complained.

I took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Just need to take a break. Thankfully I’m here now,” I said. “How’s Eddie doing?”

“He’s good,” Tony said. “Frustrated it’s not working either, but fine. You know him.”

“Being a little mini-you and totally running the show?” I asked.

“Yeah, but he’s able to run the show better than I ever could,” Tony said. “He’s got better business management and interpersonal skills than I ever did.”

I snorted. “Yeah, he kinda likes that stuff. Don’t know where he got it from.”

“Daddy Boring,” Tony said. “Always trying to teach the kids to be better.”

I laughed. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you know. I know you do,” Tony teased and nudged me.

We entered the garden where a large blanket was set out and laid out with a huge pile of food. Enough that none of us would be hungry after this.

“Wow, El,” Bruce said. “What did we do to deserve this?”

“I just know, I haven’t been easy to be around lately and I’ve missed you both,” I said as I went and sat down.

“We have been burying ourselves in our work a lot,” Bruce said, carefully lifting the twins from the stroller. He put them down on the rug and sat beside them, looking down and watching as they kicked their legs and made little cooing sounds. The two vulparev curled into their sides and wagged their tails.

“I just want that communications line up and running,” Tony said as he took a seat. “I want Eddie to come here too, and he won’t if it means abandoning SI. Besides, I don’t want to abandon SI. I don’t want it ending up in the hands of people I don’t trust.”

“Hey, now,” I said. “I’m not trying to guilt you. I’ve been… well … a mess quite frankly. I’ve shut everyone out and I’ve just now been realizing how much I’ve been pushing you all out. You two were the easiest because you’re so busy. You know before this I never let you just shut people out because of work.”

Tony laughed. “Tell me about it. You’re like a pebble in my shoe.”

“A sexy pebble in your shoe,” I teased.

Tony laughed. “Yeah, okay. I missed you too,” he leaned over and tickled Thour’s tummy. “And you two. Getting all big and wiggly.”

She smiled when he tickled her and made a funny little squeak sound. Icy made an excited chittering sound and rolled over onto his back. Tony scratched his belly. “These little guys are too cute. We are sure they’re safe right?”

“That’s what Loki says,” I said, pouring us each some of the floral cordial that the kitchen staff has made for us.

“And we totally trust Loki now, right?” Bruce asked.

I laughed. “No. But with the kids, yes. It’s been 40 years, B. I think we’re fine.”

“Okay, okay,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “They are pretty cute. It’s funny that the babies never seem to hurt them either.”

“They’re simpatico,” I said. “Now come on, eat up. Don’t forget there are multiple courses.”

“Thank you for this, El,” Bruce said, grabbing a plate and loading it up. “I don’t think I’ve been outside since I’ve been here.”

“I avoid the outside as much as possible,” Tony said as he filled his own plate. “But I guess I better get some vitamin D.”

“Yeah, you want some vitamin D, Tony?” I teased.

Tony started laughing. “You need to stop talking like that in front of the children, miss,” he teased. “You’re gonna scar them.”

“You guys don’t know that your mommy is being terrible, do you?” I said, playing with Nova’s hand.

He dragged my finger down and began to suck on my knuckle. “Are you hungry?” I asked him. “Can you wait until I’ve put some food on a plate?”

He whined a little and kicked his legs.

“You do that,” Tony said. “I’ll get you some food.”

I leaned up against Bruce and opened the lab coat just enough for them to see my bra before getting Nova to latch.

“Jesus, Elise,” Tony said, pushing the hem of the coat up so he revealed the top of my stockings. “What are you wearing under there?”

“Now, now,” I said, batting his hand away and pulling the coat back down. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Be patient, Tony,” Bruce said. “Lunch first.”

“Fine,” Tony huffed and put a plate down beside me.

I started eating as Nova fed. Inky began to sniff around the food and ended up stealing a piece of meat and running off under a bush to eat it, which made the three of us laugh.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been there for you, El,” Bruce said. “I know you’ve been struggling.”

“It’s okay,” I said, honestly. “I know it wasn’t about me. I know you’re trying to make it so we can talk with Eddie regularly. I want that too. Besides, I was pushing everyone away.”

Bruce rubbed my arm and kissed the top of my head. “Still. I’m sorry, and this is lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I’m really happy you both agreed to join me.”

“Do you know how Billy is going with the bonding plans?” Tony asked.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “He and Teddy come by every day with samples of food or sketches for clothing or with about a million questions.”

We sat in the sun and talked about what was going on with Eddie on Earth and how all the kids were doing some kind of schooling again here. About how we were all feeling about living here, and about the babies. I fed both of the babies and we played with them until they started to wane and Wanda came and took both them and the vulparev away. It was really nice and I couldn’t have felt more pleased that I’d taken the initiative to organize this myself.

When Wanda took Thour and Nova away Tony turned to me and tugged on the hem of my lab coat again. “Time for dessert?”

“Okay,” I giggled and waved over to one of the attendants that we were finished here. Two men approached and began packing up and Bruce helped me to my feet. We went back to the lab together, Tony was practically thrumming with excitement as Bruce looked at me bemused.

“A little excited?” I laughed as Tony dragged me back into the lab.

“It’s been a while,” Tony said, as Bruce closed the door behind us. “Can you blame me?”

He pulled me closer to him by the lapels of my coat and began to unbutton it. “Hey now, since when do you call the shots?” I teased.

“I think after all these years I get to switch,” he joked as he pulled the coat open and looked me up and down. “Look at you - in my favorite color and everything. Wrapped up like a little present.”

“Mm-hmm…” I hummed. “But you have to share.”

“Of course,” Tony said. “It’s a science conference.”

Bruce leaned up against one of the benches that had been built specially to accommodate his size. “You two get started,” he said. “We want to watch.”

“Sounds good, Brucie Bear,” Tony said and pulled me against him. He ghosted his lips down my neck, making my skin break out in goosebumps. “Now what am I going to do with you?”

“I think the answer to that is, whatever you damn well please,” I growled.

He pulled back and looked at me with lust-blown eyes and his teeth grazed over his bottom lip for just a moment before his lips crashed into mine. I moaned as his hands went to my hair and tugged on it and I ran my hands down his back and around his waist and began undressing him. I unfastened his pants and began to pull up his shirt but he pushed me up against a bench and spun me to face it.

“Going to bend me over this, Tony?” I hummed, as I ran my hands over the cool surface. “Gonna fuck me?”

“Patience, dear,” Tony said as he kissed my neck and nudged my legs apart. I hummed and leaned back against him and he began to kiss down my spine as he ran his hands down my chest and stomach.

When he was crouching behind me, he dragged my panties down, snapping the garter clips. He gripped my ass cheeks and spread them, pushing his face into my ass and licking over my asshole. “Fuck, Tony,” I gasped, leaning forward and bracing myself on the table.

Tony hummed and seemed to double down, going down on me like a starving man at a buffet. My knees buckled and I began to breathe heavily. A hot buzz crept from my cunt up through my core and I began to drip for him. I turned my head to look at Bruce. He was still leaning against the bench, but he’d taken his cock out and was pumping it in one large fist.

“You like that, El?” Bruce rumbled.

“Yes,” I mewled. “Fuck. It feels amazing.”

Tony hummed as his tongue swirled around my tight hole. I leaned over the bench and pressed my forehead on my fists. Tony pulled back and spun me around before plunging his face forward and greedily sucking on my pussy. I cried out and gripped his hair, trying not to fall.

He thrust two fingers inside me and began to fuck me with them hard and fast as he sucked on my clit. I moaned and tried to hold myself up by holding on to him. My eyes were locked on Bruce as he jerked himself off, watching us. My whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out and a deep pressure built in my core.

“Oh god,” I moaned. “Fuck. Please. Gonna come.”

“Come all over his face, El,” Bruce said. “I wanna watch you.”

Tony’s fingers curled inside me, hitting my g-spot, and his tongue worked over my clit in quick, firm circles. The pressure inside me seemed to burst and I came, screaming out as my knees buckled.

Tony caught me with his free hand and stroked me through my orgasm, holding me up as I spasmed with it. He pulled his fingers free and stood. He looked over at Bruce and beckoned him with his sticky fingers. “Come here, and bring that chair with you, Brucie.”

Bruce approached, shifting down so he was just the small mousy scientist, and stepped out of his pants as they fell to the ground. He dragged a chair with him and when he reached us, Tony offered him his fingers. Bruce held Tony’s wrist as he sucked them clean of my juices, his eyes closed and humming softly.

I unfastened the buttons on Bruce’s shirt and pushed it off, and then the two men guided me so I was kneeling on the chair with my hands braced on the side. Bruce stepped up in front of me and Tony moved behind. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue and Bruce traced the head of his cock over my lips and I flicked my tongue over his slit. Behind me Tony slapped the head of his cock on my pussy and with a hard thrust, he entered me.

Bruce guided his cock into my mouth, going slowly and carefully as opposed to the pounding Tony was giving me. I moaned and gripped the edge of the chair, but with each snap of Tony’s hips, he pushed me down further onto Bruce’s cock. It made me gag and choke, but at the same time, it sent shivers running through me. I was dripping around Tony’s cock, and I wanted to feel Bruce’s base against my lips. Each choked sound I made seemed to spur Bruce on and soon he was thrusting his cock down my throat in erratic bursts.

I felt helpless between them, and oh so turned on. My cunt spasmed and clenched, and my arms shook. I was right on the edge and with my airway restricted, things started to become fuzzy. Tony spanked my ass and it sent a hard jolt up my spine and I came hard, shuddering around them both.

“Swap?” Tony asked as he continued to pound into me.

Bruce pulled out and I began coughing, and for a second, I thought I was going to collapse.

“You want to lie down, El?” Bruce asked.

I nodded and wiped my mouth and when Tony pulled out, I let them help me up and onto the bench. I lay over the bench on my back with my head hanging over the edge. Bruce grabbed my hips and lined himself up at my cunt, and thrust in. I opened my mouth and Tony pushed his cock in, filling it. I could taste myself on it, and I moaned as I swallowed down the tart fluid.

They began fucking me in tandem. Bruce held my legs up and open as he penetrated me hard and fast, and Tony ran his palm over my throat, feeling the way his cock bulged with each thrust. I rolled my hips, moving with them, even as I fell apart. Bruce began to rub my clit and Tony tugged on my nipples making my breasts leak. I gasped and writhed under them, and with a muffled moan I came again.

As my body shuddered around them, their hips began to stutter. I clenched and pulsed my walls around Bruce’s cock as I hollowed my cheeks around Tony’s. Bruce released first, jerking forward and holding me in place as he groaned and came inside me. I could feel the pulse of his cock as he filled me. Tony moaned and his cock jumped. “Fuck,” he gasped, and pulled back a little as he came, filling my mouth. I held the salty liquid in my mouth, though some spilled out the corners of my lips. When Tony pulled out, Bruce pulled me up against him and kissed me. I spat Tony’s mess into Bruce’s mouth and he swallowed it with a groan.

Tony climbed up on the bench behind me and wrapped himself around me. “I missed that,” he whispered in my ear. “I missed you.”

“I missed you both,” I said, as tears pricked my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” Tony said. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Hey,” Bruce said. “I know that Steve does the best aftercare, but it looks like you might need some. And maybe we’ve been working too hard. Let’s go back to our quarters and take a bath. It might be nice spending the afternoon with the family.”

// NEXT

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achubbydumpling · 3 years ago

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Consider this: slightly chubby office worker bucky and lean, muscular steve who has a huge crush on him.

They work in the same department so Steve is always sneaking him food and rubbing his belly for him. Poor bucky keeps outgrowing his shirts and his pants barely go over his ass anymore but he doesn't wanna stop.

Bucky finally has to work from home when he gets too big for his office chair and his belly is almost constantly hanging out. All thanks to steve, of course.

Hello! I'm sorry for only answering this now, buuuuut this ask made me think of a very specific scenario for some reason? So, I hope you'll enjoy reading this... imagine? ficlet? this is neither edited nor proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes

Alright, I immediately jumped to Bucky working from home because he's outgrown his office chair. Maybe he hit the weight limit, maybe he's just gotten too wide to comfortably fit between the arm rests. Maybe he’s a gainer in this? In any case, he applies to work from home, and they grant him the request (anything to facilitate the kink, right? :D)

Rating: Mature Words: 1638 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Stuffing, Belly Kink, nicknames (pig), allusions to masturbation, mutual pining, maybe slight dub-con (Bucky doesn't know he's unmuted and Steve doesn't tell him right away)

The only requirement is that he has to be "on call" the entire workday. So, the next week on Monday Bucky sits down at his desk at home and logs in to the program his company makes him use for those calls.

And of course Steve picks up. The guy Bucky has had a not so subtle crush on since basically his first day. The blue eyed, blond haired subject of all of Bucky’s dreams, who is also the guy that Bucky has been eating his weight in junk over, because Steve keeps bringing in baked goods and Bucky can never say no to Steve.

On the other end of the call Steve is nervously chewing on his pencil until he finally hears Bucky’s warm voice say “Good morning.” A huge grin appears on his face without him wanting it to, but this is Bucky. So, of course he’s grinning like a maniac.

Bucky is just… Steve had tried to explain it to Nat once, but all he’d gotten out was a stupid “wow”, while grinning the same way he was right now. So, maybe he had a bit of an office crush, it’s normal when you spend 8h a day together, right? Bucky’s video feed is off and Steve is glad he didn’t stupidly turn his own camera on. He was debating it while he waited for Bucky’s call.

“So, do I just do my work, while I stay on this call or…?” Bucky asks when Steve didn’t respond. Steve scrambles out of his daydreams and nods. Then he remembers to actually say “Yes.”

“Alright,” was all that Bucky said and then the little red mute symbol pops up. Steve groans and rubs his hands over his face to get rid of that stupid smile.

“What’s up?” Bucky chimes back in, when Steve yelps in surprise, he adds, “you didn’t mute yourself. I could hear you… being annoyed, I think.”

“Sorry, Mondays.”

“Yeah,” Steve hears something crunching, “though my day has actually been pretty good so far.”

“Are you eating breakfast right now?” Steve looks at the clock—9:03 am.

“Nah, post-breakfast snack. I was craving something crunchy like those pig's ears you brought in on Friday.”

“That just sounds disgusting. Just call it a palm heart or a palmier.” Steve said the name of the pastry in a French accent in an effort to make Bucky laugh and when he did, his heart fluttered with a burst of warmth.

“Well, I’m having some cereal to make up for not having any pastries around.”

“Some?” Steve asked. He sobered quickly at the mention of what Bucky was actually eating, he hated how badly he was hiding his excitement at hearing what Bucky was eating. He’d been “subtly” pushing food on him since Bucky had first started working at the office. Steve doesn’t know a lot about flirting, but providing food seemed like a natural place to start.

Except he’s been stuck there for close to a year now. Every day he’d promise himself to finally ask Bucky out when he brings him one of the pastries, he brought in from that bakery on his way to the office, but when he’s actually looking at Bucky’s face, that lights up when he sees the sugary treat, Steve can never work up the courage and just slinks back to his own desk. And now Bucky wasn’t even in the office anymore.

Because you’ve fattened him up too much, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of Steve’s mind. It not like Steve was forcing Bucky to eat what he brought in, but all those treats right there in the break room surely weren’t helping with Bucky’s expanding waistline. Or those lunches they started taking together, where Steve always suggested they go out to eat instead of sharing a packed lunch in the break room. So, yeah, Steve wasn’t really at fault. Then why did he feel so goddamned proud whenever he saw Bucky’s shirts getting too small and the armrests on his chair digging into his plush sides?

Steve snaps back to reality when Bucky starts talking again.

“Just a bowl-full. Well, this is my second bowl, but cereal is pretty much mostly air, right?” They talk (argue) about what’s the best cereal after that, then what Bucky had for breakfast and then they somehow spend the entire morning talking like Bucky was still in the office and not all the way across town. Bucky refills his bowl twice before lunch rolls around at noon.

“Well, I’ll see you after lunch.” Steve reluctantly leaves his desk.

“I’ll be here!” Bucky calls before Steve takes of his headphones and heads into the breakroom to scarf down his lunch. He knows Bucky will probably only get back on the call once he has to work, but some small part of Steve hopes that if he eats fast enough he’ll get to spend at least part of his break chatting with Bucky.

When he makes his way back to his desk, Steve pops his headphones back on, plops down on his chair and immediately freezes at what he’s hearing. Bucky isn’t muted. Steve is listening to Bucky eat some kind of pasta dish, a very saucy pasta dish from the noises he can hear every time Bucky takes a bite and sucks the spaghettis he missed into his mouth. This is Steve’s personal hell, he thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

Steve is just about to tell Bucky he’s unmuted when he hears him say, unmistakably, “Fucking pig.” It can get worse.

“Such a fat fucking pig.” Bucky muffles his moan with another mouthful of food. He must be close to finishing his food Steve thinks, then he blushes at realising he knows what Bucky sounds like when he’s getting full.

Bucky’s headphones must be lying on the desk, because they pick up the slide of skin on skin perfectly and Steve leans closer to his monitor even though there isn’t an image. He presses his hands over his headphones to make sure he hears all the little sounds Bucky is making and then he jolts back when Bucky burps loudly.

Steve’s eyes scan the office to make sure no one saw him jumping around on his chair like a scaredy cat, but no one is around. No one is around to see Steve listen very intently to his co-worker eating lunch. Stuffing himself.— Brain.Steve scolds himself, but then Bucky moans again and Steve can’t help but scoot his chair closer. One, to hide his growing erection and two, because logic has left his brain and he needs to get closer to hear better apparently. Steve turns up the volume and then takes his headphones off to make sure it’s no so loud that anyone walking by could hear the sound.

“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans and Steve can hear his cutlery cluttering onto the desk. He can hear clothes rustling and suddenly the sound of Bucky rubbing his hands over the taut skin of his belly is back. It overtakes the connection for a long moment, that and Bucky’s shallow breathing.

“Best penne and pizza? Yeah, I can believe that.” Steve can hear Bucky’s chair groaning under him. Three suffering clicks from the chair and another pained belch from Bucky.

“If you keep eating like this you’re gonna get fat, Barnes.” Bucky chuckles to himself, “well, fatter.” Bucky exhales heavily, Steve can hear him shift again and his breathing gets heavier.

“Only thing missing is dessert. That’d make a real glutton outta me, not just overeating at lunch, but eating more sugar after,” Steve hears the familiar sound of Bucky popping his button to get comfortable, but Bucky doesn’t stop there, Steve hears the zipper being pulled down too. Steve’s heart skips a beat. Is he gonna—

“Get some feeder to bring it to me, some rich chocolate cake. No, ah, those little cake pops, that— that Steve brought in.” Steve holds his breath when he hears his own name in Bucky’s voice, the emphasis Bucky puts on his name.

“Steve—” He hears a bottle cap being snapped open. Ok, nope, this is too far, Steve decides and reaches for the mouse.

“Oh, my God, Bucky. You’re unmuted!” Steve just about shouts into the microphone. He immediately hears something clatter to the floor and then Bucky swearing.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was just— This isn’t what it looks like. I’m— I was— How long were you listening?” The tips of Steve’s ears are burning and the blush is working it’s way down over Steve’s face.

“A few— just a bit. You said my name.” Steve adds, hopeful, even though Bucky was probably more worried about his co-worker almost catching him jerking off. Listening to him jerk off.

“Great, are we going straight to HR or is tomorrow fine?” Bucky asked resigned.

“How about dinner?” Steve didn’t know where he plucked the courage from, but when Bucky didn’t answer right away whatever ounce of courage had possessed him left just as quickly.

“I’m sorry—"

“No. No, yeah, that’s fine. Great! That sounds good.” Bucky floundered a bit but Steve couldn’t wipe that grin of his face again.

“Tonight?” Bucky added.

“It’s a date.”

#asks #chubby bucky #office au #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #belly kink #stuffing

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buckybarnesdollface · 4 years ago

Text

Traditions: Chapter 2

Summary: Some old Christmas traditions lead to new traditions.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, female reader

I knew even before I opened my eyes that I wasn’t waking up in my bed. My head was pillowed on something solid and warm, and I blinked open my eyes to see that I was stretched out on the couch and my head was resting on Bucky’s stomach. Sometime during our late-night conversation, I must have dozed off, as had Bucky, but not before he’d draped the blanket from the back of the couch over me. He had slumped against the couch cushions, legs outstretched and feet resting on the ottoman. A warm hand rested lightly on my hip over the blanket, and my own hand – embarrassingly – was gripping his thigh.

Horrified, I tried to extract myself from this awkward position without waking Bucky, but my efforts were in vain – With a soft sigh and a shift of his body, Bucky’s hand squeezed my hip lightly, sending a jolt through my body.

“Mornin', doll,” his voice rumbled from above me, still thick with sleep. “Guess neither of us made it to our beds.”

I pushed myself up off of him, leaning back into the couch cushions and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Bucky was watching me with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, eyes still heavy with sleep, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I dropped my gaze to my hands and cleared my throat before speaking.

“When…when did I fall asleep?”

“Around quarter after three. We were talking and the next thing I looked down and you were asleep.” He grinned ruefully. “You looked so cozy all snuggled up against me; I didn’t want to wake you by moving you, so I covered you with the blanket and let you sleep. I guess I must have dozed off not long after that.”

My cheeks were flaming by this point. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That couldn’t have been very comfortable for you –”

Bucky cut me off. “Actually, I slept great,” he said. “Falling asleep next to a warm fire and a Christmas tree, with a pretty dame curled up against me? What more could a guy want?” He waggled his eyebrows at me playfully, and my eyes widened before narrowing at him.

“Asshole,” I grumbled, swatting at his chest. He laughed and shook his head.

“I’m only messin’ with ya, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “For the record, though, it wasn’t the worst sleep I’ve ever had. In fact, it was probably one of the better ones. It was peaceful; no nightmares.”

At this I couldn’t help but smile. “Good,” I murmured. “Now c’mon, I need coffee. Maybe we can sneak some of those molasses cookies, too.”

But there would be no sneaking anything. Both my parents and Katie and Jeremy were all in the kitchen when Bucky and I shuffled our way in. My cheeks were on fire and I ducked my head. Even Bucky was blushing as four pairs of eyes landed on us.

“Finally decided to get up, huh?” my dad taunted.

“We fell asleep talking,” I grumbled. Jeremy and Katie snickered and I shot them a glare.

“You never could resist sneaking downstairs to fall asleep by the tree,” my mom said. “Your father and I used to have to carry you back up to your bed.” She handed mugs of coffee to both Bucky and I, and although her smile was warm her hazel eyes sparkled with something more. I frowned and lifted the mug to my lips.

“Busy day today,” my dad said. “Make sure you’re ready to leave by three-thirty.”

As was tradition, we were going to my grandparents’ place for Christmas Eve dinner. We spent the rest of the morning watching Home Alone, and then I disappeared upstairs to shower and get ready.

An hour later, I had tamed my curls, put on a full face of makeup and donned a black-and-red dress. I checked the mirror and touched up my red lipstick before stepping out into the hall and colliding with a really large, really solid body.

“Sorry!” I squeaked at the same time that one warm and one cool hand steadied me. I looked up to see Bucky regarding me with his lips slightly quirked up.

“You should watch where you’re going, doll,” he teased as his hands released my arms. “If you’re not careful you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

I glared at him half-heartedly. “I didn’t expect to run into a goddamn brick wall coming out of my room,” I quipped. “What are you doing outside my door?”

Bucky blushed. “I was waiting for you,” he said. “I, uh…”

He trailed off, and he didn’t have to finish for me to understand what he was getting at. He was nervous about meeting my grandparents and my aunts and uncles. I gave him an encouraging smile and took his hand into mine.

“So far everyone in my family loves you; it’ll be fine,” I assured him, and then I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure my grandmother is making lasagna.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean the lasagna? The stuff you always bragged to the team about?”

“The one and only.”

“I hope she’s made lots, then,” Bucky said, patting his stomach. “I can eat a crazy amount of lasagna.”

“Don’t worry,” I teased, “I already warned everyone to prepare; I told them that a supersoldier’s appetite is like a dog with the munchies.”

Bucky gave me an indignant look. “Way to make me look good,” he said wryly, and I shrugged.

“It’s the truth. Between you and Steve, it’s amazing there’s even any food left in the compound for the rest of us. And don’t even get me started on how much it must cost Tony when the team orders takeout –”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bucky snorted, dragging me towards the stairs. I grinned mischievously at him, a grin he returned with sparkling eyes.

The minute we stepped into my grandparents’ house it was a flurry of hugs and a chorus of “How have you been?”, as well as a multitude of other questions and exclamations from family members, many of whom I hadn’t seen since last Christmas. As Katie, Jeremy and I got caught up with everyone and my parents went to help my grandparents prepare dinner and get everyone drinks, Bucky stood awkwardly in the doorway of the porch. Finally, my aunt Maureen noticed him over my shoulder and she arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

“And who is this handsome young man?” she asked, and I had to stifle a snort because even though Bucky looked young enough to be her son, he was actually old enough to be her grandfather. I could tell Bucky knew what I was thinking from the way his dark eyebrows pulled together only slightly at me, but he plastered on a smile as I tugged him forward.

“This is Bucky,” I announced, one hand resting on his arm to hopefully help ease the nerves I knew he still felt. “He’s a friend from work.”

“Ah,” my grandfather said on his way by after having grabbed a beer from the fridge. “It’s about time you brought a boyfriend to meet us. I was beginning to wonder if I’d live to see it.”

My cheeks flushed crimson, and I immediately let go of Bucky’s arm as I shook my head vigorously. “No, he’s not my boyfriend,” I stuttered. “He’s a friend from work. He didn’t have plans for Christmas so I invited him to spend it with us.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Bucky. My grandfather huffed before taking his beer to the sitting room, and Maureen leaned in to whisper, “You’d do good to make him more than a friend, he’s very good-looking.”

By now I was sure I was the colour of a tomato. Without having to look I knew Bucky was trying and failing at concealing a smirk – His supersoldier ears would have picked up Maureen’s comments with ease.

Needing a drink, I ducked past everyone and poured myself a glass of wine. After Maureen had finished fawning over Bucky and grilling him with questions, he migrated over to the corner of the kitchen I had chosen to nurse my drink.

“Your aunt is…” he started, and I cut him off.

“She’s only my aunt by marriage,” I corrected. “She’s my uncle’s second wife.” I took a swig of my wine. “But yes, she can be hard to take in more than small doses.”

“I was going to say talkative.”

I snorted. “That’s an understatement.” I lifted my glass. “Do you want a drink? We have plenty; there’s never a shortage of booze in this family.”

“You know alcohol does nothing to me, right?” Bucky said, one eyebrow cocked, and I shrugged.

“You could still have one in the spirit of the season. Beer or wine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched at the corners. “Beer,” he finally said, and I grabbed one from the fridge. He murmured a “thanks” as he popped the cap off with a flick of his thumb and lifted the bottle to his lips. I waited for him to swallow before I spoke, tracing my fingers over the rim of my wine glass.

“I’m sorry about my grandfather,” I mumbled, and Bucky snorted.

“Don’t be,” he told me. “That was kind of savage, though. I get the impression it’s a subject that he brings up a lot?”

I frowned, downing the rest of my wine. “Every family gathering,” I muttered. “It’s always ‘why are you still single’ or ‘when are you going to get a boyfriend’. Both Katie and Jeremy have brought home people; my grandparents probably think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What, there’s not?” Bucky taunted, and when I glared at him, he laughed.

“Shut up.”

“I’m only kidding, (Y/N).” He cocked his head at me thoughtfully. “Is there any particular reason you haven’t brought anyone home before, though?”

I shrugged, my cheeks pink. “I dunno. There was just never anyone I liked enough to bring home, I guess,” I said, and Bucky nodded.

“Well,” he said after a minute, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Of all the things I’ve ever been called, your boyfriend certainly isn’t the worst.”

My stomach did a flip, and I couldn’t conceal my grin as I poured myself another glass of wine. “C’mon,” I chuckled, nudging him towards the sitting room. “Let’s go socialize before any rumours start.”

It was an evening full of good food and good company. My family, god bless them, welcomed Bucky as if he were one of their own – They included him in conversations, were genuinely interested in learning about him without breaching subjects that would make him uncomfortable, and by the time dessert was served it was as if he had been a part of our Christmas dinners for years. I saw a side of Bucky that I rarely saw except with Steve; he was carefree and charming and the happiest I’d seen him around a group of people he hardly knew.

Right now, he was in the middle of animatedly telling a story about him and Steve back in the thirties to my family. I had heard the story a few times already, but it had always been told from Steve’s perspective with Bucky offering a couple of details to fill in the blanks – To hear Bucky tell it was something else entirely. I sat next to him, my chin resting on my knuckles and a smile quirking my lips up as I watched him speak.

“And so we ended up having to ride in the back of a freezer truck all the way from Rockaway Beach back to Brooklyn because we blew our train money on hot dogs,” he exclaimed, earning him a chorus of laughter from around the table. My dad cocked an eyebrow.

“You spent all the money you had on hot dogs?” he asked incredulously, and Bucky’s grin was mischievous. I couldn’t help but grin myself, knowing this part of the story all too well.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “As Steve often likes to remind me, I blew three dollars on some silly carnival game trying to win a stuffed bear for a girl I never saw again.”

The men at the table all nodded as if in understanding, and the women shook their heads and chuckled.

“So, what does three dollars back in the thirties equal nowadays?” my grandfather asked out of curiosity. Bucky’s cheekiness faltered, and I smirked; this was my favourite part of the story.

“Around fifty-six dollars,” he mumbled sheepishly, and the table howled with laughter. Bucky hung his head in mock embarrassment, but the corners of his lips twitched.

The coffee percolator dinged from the kitchen, signalling the coffee was ready. My grandmother was about to get up but I shook my head and stood first. “I’ll get it,” I offered, but she looked uncertain.

“You can’t carry it all in by yourself,” she protested, but then Bucky was standing as well.

“I’ll help her,” he said, and I shot him a grateful smile of thanks as he followed me out to the kitchen.

“Can you bring the sugar and cream in?” I asked, gesturing to the small china dishes on the kitchen table before pulling some mugs out of the cupboard and setting them on the table for Bucky to get when he came back. I grabbed the coffee pot and a trivet to take to the dining room, but as I rounded the corner I nearly collided with Bucky. His hands reached out to steady me before I could spill the scalding coffee all over the both of us.

“Easy there, doll,” Bucky chuckled, and I blushed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and he was just about to step out of the way to let me through when my grandfather spoke up.

“No you don’t, not so fast,” he said. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe.”

Confusion wrinkled my brow, and both mine and Bucky’s gazes drifted up. Sure enough, hung from the top of the doorframe was a small cluster of green leaves and red berries, tied together with a shiny red bow. I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

“Nope, not doing that,” I said quickly. “No one else has kissed under this tonight, so neither are we.”

“Your grandfather and I did just before dinner,” my grandmother exclaimed, and I pursed my lips.

“C’mon, (Y/N); you know we don’t break Christmas traditions in this family,” my uncle taunted, grinning wickedly. Fighting the urge to once again roll my eyes, I looked nervously at Bucky. He only shrugged, as if to say, “Let’s just do it so they’ll stop harassing us.”

“Fine,” I finally sighed, and Bucky’s eyes widened just a fraction before he leaned in and pressed a barely-there peck to my mouth. When he straightened, I cleared my throat and was just about to move past him when three separate voices “boo”-ed us from the table.

“You call that a kiss?” Katie snorted, and I shot her the deadliest glare I could muster. She only smirked in response.

“Katie’s right,” my grandfather said. “A man that would spend that much money trying to impress a girl surely knows how to kiss one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, positive my grandfather had crossed a line, but before any sound could come out Bucky’s hands were on my waist as he gathered me to him, covering my mouth with his.

The first thing I noticed was that Bucky’s lips were softer than I had expected, like velvet moving against my own lips. He tasted like apple pie and gingerbread, and I could feel my eyes drifting closed as I fell into the kiss. His hands tightened just the slightest bit on my waist, causing my heart rate to pick up, and the next thing I knew I could feel the handle of the coffee pot slipping from my fingers and I jerked back from Bucky, tightening the grip on the handle before I’d have to clean up coffee and broken glass off the hardwood floor.

“The mugs,” I mumbled, brought back to reality. My cheeks and chest were burning and I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, least of all Bucky’s.

“Right, the mugs,” Bucky mumbled, ducking into the kitchen.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on Bucky and I for the remainder of dinner. When it came time to go back to my parents’ place, I was relieved.

My grandmother stopped me on my way out the door. “You know,” she said, “according to the Germans, if you kiss someone under the mistletoe it means you’re bound to end up living a long and happy life together.”

My cheeks were red and my stomach did a flip. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gram,” I mumbled, and her eyes sparkled as she closed the door behind me.

Back at home, everyone settled down in the living room to relax and get comfortable after stuffing themselves with food at dinner. I had just poured myself a glass of eggnog and was about to join them when Bucky’s hand circled lightly around my wrist.

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, and my heart hammered against my ribcage as my gaze involuntarily flickered to his lips. I had no idea what was wrong with me; Bucky was my friend. I wasn’t supposed to want him to kiss me. I cursed my grandparents and their damned mistletoe.

“Um, yeah,” I finally said weakly. Bucky released my wrist to run a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed.

“What the hell are you sorry about?” I asked. “I’m the one who should be apologizing; my family was way out of line…”

To my surprise Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “They meant well. I just…” He trailed off, face sheepish. “I’m scared that maybe I crossed a line.”

My eyes widened. “Buck, no,” I assured him quickly. “I was a little caught off-guard, that’s all.”

Bucky gave me a rueful smile. “That’s your grandfather’s fault. I, uh…I may have let my pride get the better of me. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips, and Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow at me as his mouth quirked up on one side.

“What’s so funny, doll?”

“Just that apparently even supersoldiers feel the need to prove their masculinity,” I teased. Bucky’s cheeks were tinted pink, but he shrugged.

“Couldn’t let everyone think I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Trust me, Buck; anyone that takes one look at you will not doubt your capability for even a second.”

Bucky gave me a hesitant smile. “So you’re alright?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Of all the things that have ever happened to me,” I told him, “that certainly wasn’t the worst.”

The answering smile he gave me was adorable, a mix between smug and shy, and his blue eyes sparkled. I jerked my head towards the living room.

“Come on,” I urged. “I have a surprise for you.”

Once Bucky was settled into his place on the loveseat, I pulled a book from the bookshelf and sat down in the armchair across from him. My dad turned off the TV, and Bucky’s brow creased as he regarded me with confusion. I winked playfully at him before opening the book to the first page.

“Marley was dead, to begin with,” I read. “There is no doubt whatever about that.”

I looked up to see Bucky’s face light up, and I grinned before turning my attention back to the book.

Once I’d read the entire story, everyone decided it was time to go to bed. As I was sliding the book back onto the shelf, Bucky set a hand on my arm. I turned around to find him looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Did you do that for me?” he asked softly, and I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just because you’re spending Christmas with my family doesn’t mean it can’t reflect your family’s Christmas as well,” I replied. “I know how much it meant to you, and when I mentioned it to my family, they thought it was a great idea.” I bit my lip. “You liked it? It wasn’t…presumptuous, or weird?”

The next thing I knew I was being pulled into a hug. “It was perfect,” Bucky murmured as he pulled away from me. “Thank you, (Y/N). Truly.”

I gave him a cheerful smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get to bed or Santa won’t stop here.”

Try as I might, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was wide awake, replaying what had happened after dinner on a loop. The way Bucky’s hands had been so sure when pulling me to him, and the way his velvet lips had worked me into a dizzy haze right in front of an entire room of my family…

I let out a huff of frustration. Bucky and I were friends. I’d never had more than platonic feelings for him, not until…Well, until I’d brought him home to spend Christmas with me. Maybe that was all it was, though; Christmas to me had always been the most romantic time of year, and I had always spent it alone. Maybe having Bucky here with me made me feel less lonely, and the feelings would go away once the holidays were over.

That did nothing, however, to quell the ache I had right now to feel those lips on me again.

“Fuck,” I groaned, louder than I’d intended, and then I rolled over dramatically and aggressively fluffed my pillows to try and get comfortable. I had barely settled when a soft knock sounded on my door.

I sat up, hesitating. “Come in,” I finally said, and the door creaked open slowly to reveal Bucky, clad in gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt. His frame filled the doorway, and I could see in the soft light of the Christmas lights my mother had strung in the window that his brow was furrowed.

“I…I heard you groan,” he told me, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I came to check if you were okay.”

When he lifted his arm his shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin and those perfectly-crafted abs of his. My tongue darted out to wet my lips involuntarily and I could feel the blood rise in my cheeks.

“I, uh…I can’t sleep,” I mumbled, and Bucky shook his head.

“Me, either.”

I frowned. “Is it your family again? Bucky, if I upset you with that story –”

“No, doll, it’s nothing like that,” he said quickly. All of a sudden, a sheepish grin spread across his face. “I was…I was actually thinking about how I’d actually let your grandfather goad me on like that earlier.”

“Bucky…” My blush deepened and I shook my head. “We already went over this; you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” I said weakly, before my brain knew what I was doing. Bucky stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him before coming to hesitantly sit on the edge of my mattress. I sat up straighter and pulled my legs in to give him more room, all the while my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I was sure he could hear it. He licked his lips before continuing, and I couldn’t help that my gaze was drawn to his mouth, where it lingered until he spoke.

“When your grandfather made that comment,” he said, “it was…it was like a switch had been flipped inside of me. Ever since you brought me home to meet your family all I’d wanted was for them to accept me as a human being, as someone normal and functioning and someone they wanted to have around during their Christmas celebrations, but…” He shook his head and smiled ruefully. “The more time I spent around you and your family, and got to know the (Y/N) that grew up in this house, the more I realized that I not only wanted them to like me, but I wanted them to like me for you.”

Bucky was looking at me from under the thick fringe of his eyelashes, nerves etched into his features. I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone dry and it came out raspy.

“What…what are you saying, Buck?”

“I’m saying,” he murmured, “that when your grandfather challenged me to kiss you it spurred something inside of me. All of a sudden, I had the urge to prove to them, to you and to myself that I was good enough for you. He offered me a chance to stake my claim on you, and I seized it all too eagerly.” Bucky shook his head, cheeks tinted pink. “No, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re mine to take, you aren’t property –”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because I was on my knees and pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes widened, but I wasn’t about to let him continue until I had some questions answered.

“You…Were you trying to get my family’s approval?” I breathed in disbelief. Cheeks ruddy, Bucky nodded, but I continued before he could even open his mouth. “So that kiss…That wasn’t just because of the mistletoe?”

“No,” Bucky murmured, voice soft but firm. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you took my hand on the plane and told me not to worry about everyone staring at me.”

My insides melted, and I bit my lip. “Why didn’t you?” I whispered, and he gave me a small smile.

“It would have drawn even more attention to me,” he chuckled, and then he cast his eyes downward. “And I…We were going to be spending the next week together with your parents, and I didn’t want them to hate me.”

My brow furrowed. “Hate you? Why the hell would they hate you?”

“Because I was either going to be the guy that came on to you on the plane and ruined your Christmas vacation by making it awkward, or I was going to be the guy that your parents would never approve of because of all the horrible things I’ve done.”

Bucky’s eyes were swimming with sadness, and I felt a lump form in my throat, angry at the world for making such a kind, selfless, beautiful man hate himself so much that he believed other people should hate him too. Narrowing my eyes, I crawled across the bed until I was kneeling in front of him. I took his chin between my fingers and thumb, his stubble scratchy against my fingertips, and directed his eyes to mine.

“Bucky Barnes,” I said in an even voice, “are you trying to tell me that you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I’m not,” he mumbled. “You come from a world of family dinners and unconditional love and ridiculously cheesy and charming holiday traditions. And I…” He swallowed hard and pulled away from my grasp to avert his eyes. “I come from a world of murder and torture and fear. We aren’t the same, (Y/N). And I can’t keep pretending we are.”

Well, this was certainly not how I’d pictured this conversation going. I glared at him. “Why do you have to pretend?” I demanded. “That kiss sure as hell wasn’t pretend. For the love of god, Buck, would you let yourself be happy for once? You don’t come from all that tragedy; you came from a family with the same values as mine. Just because it was a long time ago doesn’t make it any less true.” I allowed him a small smile. “And for the record, my family adores you. They think you’re charming and kind and a delight to be around. They’re all very happy you’re spending Christmas with us.”

Bucky lifted his head, hope flickering in his blue eyes. “And you…?” he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I decided to take the plunge. I licked my lips, eyes holding his as I spoke. “Well,” I murmured, my voice husky, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss since it happened, if I’m being honest. It’s what kept me awake, thinking about how I wished my entire family hadn’t been watching so we could have kept going…”

I trailed off, watching the heavy rise and fall of Bucky’s chest with every breath he took. There was conflict in his eyes.

“(Y/N)…”

My name was a groan on his lips, and it sent a shiver down my spine and heat straight to my core. He needed this and I needed him. And soon, before I exploded.

“Stake your claim on me, James,” I whispered. “Take me, make me yours. Please.” I took his hands and set them on my waist, where they’d been hours before. “Let me show you that I belong to you and only you.”

A low growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his fingers tightened on my waist. He tugged me with ease into his lap, my legs straddling his, and though his eyes were dark when he looked up at me, they were also soft.

“Do you really want this?” he murmured quietly, and I reached up to take his face between my hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He captured my lips in his and it was as if someone had tossed oil onto the already-blazing fire inside me. My hands drifted from his face to tangle in his hair, pulling myself closer to him as our mouths fought for dominance. As the kiss deepened, I wondered why I had gone so long without kissing him; it was like up until now I had been breathing through a filter, and now that his lips were on mine, he was breathing life into me in pure, unfiltered quantities until my head was spinning with the onslaught.

“Bucky,” I gasped, pulling away for oxygen. Bucky ducked his head to nuzzle it against my throat, peppering soft kisses along the delicate skin there. I tilted my head back to allow him better access, and the kisses became sloppier and open-mouthed as he made his way down to my breastbone.

“Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he murmured into my skin. “Gonna worship you like the goddess you are.”

His words had me trembling in his arms as a fresh wave of heat shot right to my core. I would have never pegged Bucky as the vocal type in bed, but the deep, husky timbre of his voice had me as aroused as his hands and lips did.

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled, my hands sliding underneath Bucky’s t-shirt so my fingertips could dance along the hard wall of muscle. His breath hitched, and then he was pulling the t-shirt over his head with one hand while the other hand yanked at the hem of my own t-shirt. I lifted my arms, and then we were both bare from the waist up. Bucky’s eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as his gaze landed on my breasts. In any other circumstance, I would have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but Bucky was regarding me with such rapt reverence that the way his eyes drank me in only added to the arousal between my thighs.

When his hands gripped the bare flesh of my waist electricity shot through me, and when his hot mouth enveloped one of my nipples and tugged it gently between his teeth my back arched into him and I let out an obscene moan.

Bucky’s mouth immediately released me, and he pulled back. His lips were set in a frown but his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “As much as I love hearing those pretty little sounds spill from your lips,” he murmured, “you have to be quiet, doll, or this will be over before it even starts. Can’t have your parents knowing I’m about to ruin their little girl for every other man while under their roof.”

“Fuck, Bucky,” I groaned softly, aching to have some of the pressure between my thighs relieved.

“That’s the plan, doll,” he taunted. “You just gotta be patient.”

A wicked grin flashed across his face, and I huffed in annoyance.

“Dammit, Bucky, if you don’t touch me right now, I’m gonna have to take care of things myself.”

To my satisfaction, Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. His jaw tightened and he licked his lips before his hands on my waist tightened. “As much as I’d like to see that,” he murmured, “I promised to take good care of you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

The next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the mattress and Bucky was yanking my pants and underwear down my legs and tossing them somewhere across the room, leaving me completely bare to him. He grinned up at me from between my legs and my breath caught in my throat. Looking as wrecked as I already felt, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He began planting open-mouthed kisses on the insides of my thighs that quickly turned into biting and sucking. I knew there would be marks there come morning, but I would wear them proudly; a reminder that I was his and that he was about to give me the best night of my life.

When his mouth finally made its way to my aching heat, I had to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. As his tongue swiped along my folds my hips bucked up into him and he chuckled against me as his arms wound around my hips to hold me firmly to the mattress.

“Easy, doll; awfully eager, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice languid as he skimmed his nose along my skin. My breaths were coming out short and shallow and I pressed my head back into the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Please, Buck,” I begged shamelessly. I could feel him grin against my thigh, and then his lips wrapped around my clit and sucked hard, and it took everything in me not to scream out his name as my back arched away from my mattress. My fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, pulling him closer, and he growled into me. The vibrations, as well as the purely primal sound it made coming from deep in his throat, had me keening and dripping with need.

Bucky’s mouth worked over me like he was a man starved. The more his tongue and lips licked and sucked, the tighter the coil in my belly got as I writhed beneath him. When I finally reached my peak, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and my grip on Bucky’s hair tightened, nails scraping against his scalp. He brought me down from my high with gentle kisses, and then his arms loosened from around my hips so he could slide up my body and press his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ…” I breathed, trying to recover after what he had just done to me. Bucky’s grin was sinful and his eyes sparkled.

“It’s Bucky, actually,” he said lightly. “Although if I still had my long hair, I could see how you could be mistaken.”

“Oh, shut up,” I grumbled, and then I was up and pushing him onto his back. He stared up at me with wide, startled eyes as I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. I leaned in to kiss him hard, and then pulled away to kiss the hollow of his throat as my fingertips trailed down the hot skin of his torso. My lips soon followed, and then I was peppering kisses just above the low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants. The gray cotton material was tented, doing nothing to hide how aroused he was.

“What do we have here, soldier?” I said teasingly, fingers slowly peeling back the waistband. I peered up to see him watching me, hungry eyes unblinking as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. When his cock sprang free from its confines, I couldn’t help but lick my lips – Oh, this was going to be fun.

I took his length into my hand, revelling in the velvety-smooth, hot feel of it, solid and practically throbbing against my palm. I gave it a couple of experimental pumps and Bucky let out a soft groan.

“(Y/N)…”

“Quiet, soldier, remember?” I taunted. Bucky’s eyes flashed, and then with a wicked smirk I leaned in to lick a stripe up along his length. A low hiss passed through his clenched teeth, and when I took him as far into my mouth as I could I could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as his eyes blazed like blue fire.

“Fuck, baby girl, that feels so good,” he grunted out as my head bobbed up and down along his length. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked hard, one hand wrapped around what I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other on his thigh, nails digging into solid muscle. Bucky cursed under his breath, and then to my confusion his hand traced along my jaw before sliding under my chin to pull me away from him.

“What –” I started, but he cut me off.

“As amazing as that felt, doll, when I come I wanna be inside you.”

His words had me dripping with anticipation, and I let out a soft whimper as he pulled me up his body until I was once again straddling his hips. I shifted, sliding my soaked folds along his throbbing length and we both let out quiet groans. Unable to wait any longer, I reached behind me and took him in my hand, lining him up with my entrance.

Bucky’s hands on my hips tugged me down until he was fully sheathed in my wet heat. I fell forward, hands planted on his chest to support myself, and squeezed my eyes shut as I adjusted to how he stretched my walls in ways I’d never been stretched out before. I rolled my hips into his experimentally, and Bucky’s hands tightened on my flesh.

Using my hands on him as leverage, I began to rock myself against him, feeling the way his cock deliciously dragged against every square millimetre of my insides. We quickly fell into a rhythm, him thrusting up to meet me every time I slid down. My nails scratched jagged red lines into his chest as his fingers dug bruises into my hips, our breaths coming out ragged as we fought to keep any noises that could alert the rest of the household to our actions from spilling out of our lips.

It didn’t take long for the coil to once again tighten in my belly. Bucky’s thrusts were sharp and precise, hitting all the right spots, and his hands had begun to roam over my body, kneading the soft flesh of my curves.

“Buck, I’m…” I started, but was rendered breathless when all of a sudden Bucky had flipped us over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, his length still firmly sheathed in my heat. This position provided a new angle, and my legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist as he bent down to kiss me roughly.

“I’ve got you, baby girl,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he drove into me relentlessly. My nails raked down his back, the other hand carding though his hair and holding him to me. I was close, so close, and he knew it. “It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to my throat. “Let go, I’ll take care of you. Let go for me, baby girl.”

That did it. I could feel my walls fluttering around Bucky’s length as he drew my second orgasm of the night out of me. I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped my lips as the coil in me snapped, and my own climax must have brought on Bucky’s because I could feel him throbbing, hot and hard against my fluttering walls, and then his seed was coating my insides as he stilled over me with a muffled grunt.

Being the first to break out of the post-orgasm haze, Bucky lifted his head from my shoulder and gave me a soft, lingering kiss. I hummed contentedly, hugging him close to me, and he chuckled before scooping his arms around me and shifting our bodies so I was snuggled against him and the blankets were pulled around us.

“Well, you certainly made sure this would be a Christmas to remember,” Bucky murmured, brushing a damp lock of hair from my face. I giggled, and then turned my head to press my lips to his chest as my fingertips brushed along his abdomen.

“What can I say, I always keep good on my word.” I yawned, unable to fight off the exhaustion I felt. “You wore me out, soldier,” I mumbled, and a quiet laugh rumbled from his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

I hugged myself closer to him. “You’ll stay with me?”

A soft kiss on the crown of my head, and arms circling protectively around me. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, doll.”

I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely begun to light up the sky, and snowflakes drifted lazily outside the window. Bucky was warm and solid behind me, and when I stretched out my body languidly his vibranium hand slid across my belly and down, parting my thighs to ghost feather-light touches over my still-sensitive sex.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he murmured, lips against the delicate skin behind my ear as his cool fingers swept lightly through my already-gathering wetness. I let out a quiet whine and pressed back into him, his body fitting along the length of mine and his erection hard against my backside. I wiggled my hips teasingly and felt him twitch.

“Mmm, Merry Christmas,” I hummed, and then spread my legs further so he could slide into me. We made love, slow and sensual, as the snow fell outside and the sky lightened, and when we both came undone at the same time Bucky’s name fell from my lips in a whispered prayer. We stayed that way a couple of minutes, spooning and still joined together, until we agreed that everyone else would soon be getting up to open presents.

We already had coffee brewed by the time everyone else came downstairs. My dad donned his Santa hat and then we all gathered around the Christmas tree to open the gifts.

“To (Y/N), from James,” my dad said, handing me a box wrapped in shiny red paper with a green bow. I shot Bucky an inquiring look as I took the box from my dad but he only shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes as he drained the last of his coffee.

Curious, I carefully tore away the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of Sherlock Holmes, the cover cracked and the pages yellowed with age. I looked up at Bucky, eyes wide.

“Is this…?” I started to say, and he nodded, beaming.

“A first edition,” he finished, and then his smile turned sheepish. “I know how much you love books and you love antiques, and Wanda told me Sherlock Holmes was your favourite…”

“Bucky, it’s perfect,” I breathed sincerely, feeling tears in the corners of my eyes. “I love it. Thank you.”

Bucky seemed pleased with himself. “Anything for you, doll,” he murmured, and I blushed.

After all the gifts had been unwrapped and the floor was littered with wrapping paper and bows, everyone migrated to the fireplace to see what was in their stockings. I hung back, and grinned when Bucky’s eyes landed on the one labelled “Bucky” and he shot me a confused look.

“I didn’t hang a stocking,” he said, brow furrowed, and I shrugged.

“Just look inside.”

He did as I said, and when he pulled out an orange and a tin of chocolates the most brilliant smile lit up his face. His eyes were brimming with emotion as he lifted them to meet mine.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered, and then he was gathering me into his arms and hugging me tightly. When we pulled apart his eyes shone. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything. If it weren’t for you, I would still be alone at the compound and would have missed out on the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

My heart swelled, and I reached up to cup his warm face in my hands, my thumbs tracing his cheekbones. “Guess you’ll just have to spend every Christmas here with me,” I told him, and he grinned.

“Sounds like a plan to me, doll.”

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