#soft!dark sam wilson

[late-to-the-party-81]

Rabbits have teeth

AN: It’s taken me a while to get here, but here’s another instalment of our kidnapped penthouse wife and her three soft dark! Lovers. This part actually includes plot, which harks back to Loyaulte me lie, but don’t worry, there’s still smut. 

Beta’d by @kingofsorrow20

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Summary: There’s something that’s got your three captors men worried, but they won’t tell you what it is, distracting you the only way they know how whenever you ask. When all becomes clear, how will you react?

Relationship: Soft! Dark! Steve x Soft! Dark! Bucky x Soft! Dark! Sam x Reader (Bunny)

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: Dub Con (due to universe), Stockholm syndrome, Explicit sexual content, Free use, Cum marking, references to rough sex, mild degradation, oral sex (m receiving), spanking, face slapping, super-soldier refractory period, Canon typical violence, Gun use, Minor character death.

Things had been relatively quiet since Steve’s outburst a few weeks ago, something you’d been glad off, but it was inevitable that it wouldn’t stay like that for long. 

Your three captors men were out - you didn’t know where because they hadn’t said and you hadn’t asked - and you were busying yourself with some baking in the kitchenette. They’d only been gone an hour, so you weren’t expecting them back yet, especially as it wasn’t like you could leave with the biometric locks in place, so it was startling when the door careened opened, bouncing off the wall. Steve stalked through, dragging Bucky behind him with an iron grip on his right bicep. Bucky was obviously not too put-out, otherwise he would have dug his heels in. 

Neither of them spoke, just headed off to one of their bedrooms as you looked on, confused. Sam followed them through the door, pulling off his goggles and shedding his wing pack, dumping them down without ceremony. He crossed over to you, a serious look on his face.

“Sam? What’s going o-.” He moved behind you, as silent as the other two had been, and pushed you down and over the counter. His fingers, callused and rough, pushed up your robe and probed between your legs. Unsurprisingly, you were wet - a combination of the load that Bucky had deposited in you first thing this morning and the fact that your body seemed to be fully attuned to your situation, experiencing a Pavlovian style response to being touched by any (or all) of the three of them. 

Without preamble, he freed himself from his tac suit and sunk into your cunt, his hips pressing up against your ass, before starting up a leisurely pace, an arm curled almost tenderly around your waist. Your own hands gripped the counter and your throat let out pleasured moans and sighs, sounds that were stark in comparison to what you could hear coming from the other room. Bucky’s cries, which didn’t sound quite as ecstasy filled as your own, rang out through the apartment.

“It’s not like I don’t like it rough,” Sam commented, unprompted. “I do, but there’s a difference between rough and rough, yanno?” He ground against you and you let out an unrestrained moan as you nodded. “At least with there being two of them, they can take their frustrations out on each other and be healed by tomorrow. And you can keep me company until neither of us need to fear for our unenhanced bodies.”

“But what’s gotten Steve so mad?” you asked tentatively between Sam’s thrusts. His hand trailed down from your waist to where the pair of you were joined, his fingers toying with your clit.

“‘S nothin’ for you to concern yourself with, baby. You just keep doing what you do best. Take our cocks and make us feel good. It’s nice knowing you aren’t burdened with the things we are.”

He pulled you upright, pinning your back to his chest, and your head fell back onto his shoulder. His lips found your throat, his short beard scratching over the delicate skin as he sucked and nipped, hips still thrusting. You knew he was trying to distract you, and damn if he wasn’t doing a good job of it. You tightened around him as your pleasure built, his deft fingers driving you higher, until you clenched down hard, your body tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

You were still dizzy from it when Sam turned you both away from the counter and pushed you down onto all fours on the kitchen floor. He immediately followed you down, sinking right back into you and pounding your cunt with a speed that made your teeth rattle as you clawed at the tiles.

“Yeah, you like it rough too, don’t you, bunny?” With a crack he spanked at your bare ass and then grabbed cruelly at the heated flesh, causing you to wail at a loud enough volume to challenge Bucky in the other room.

With a grunt, and a final few thrusts, he spilled into you, withdrawing at the last moment to pump twice over your warmed backside.

“Fucking beautiful. Stay like that for a bit, baby. I wanna admire my handiwork.”

You settled down on your forearms, naked ass still in the air and tried not to think about what you must look like with cum over your ass and dribbling out of your pussy.

The next morning you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and the muffled voices of Steve and Sam conversing with someone you didn’t recognise. Was it a woman?

Climbing carefully out of bed you tiptoed across the bedroom and opened the door. However, you only managed to see through the thin gap for a few seconds before it was quickly pushed closed. All you saw was the back of Steve’s head and a flash of red hair.

“Нет, Банни. Это не для тебя. Возвращайся в постель.”

Bucky’s right hand held the door shut, but his left arm had snaked around your waist, his cool fingers splayed over your stomach. You twisted in his grip to pout up at him.

“I don’t want to go back to bed. Who is that? No-one ever visits here.”

“Никто не важен.”

He bent down to capture your lips, but you pressed a hand against his chest.

“Not important? Bullshit. I know something’s going on. And I deserve to know what.”

With superhuman speed, Bucky grasped your jaw in his right hand and gave your head a little jerk.

“Перестань быть своевольный и делай то, что тебе говорят”

You scowled at him, not doing anything to combat his accusation of your brattiness, but he just scowled back before picking you up and crossing back over to the bed. He’d been with you last night, fucking you to exhaustion, before pulling you close in a surprisingly sweet way and holding you as you’d slept. However, he obviously wasn’t done with you because when he put you down he pushed you to your knees.

Bucky didn’t need to say anything. Even if you were unused to his and the others habits and wants, his semi erect cock, two inches from your face was more than enough instruction for you. You placed your hands on his thighs, feeling the rough hair under your palms, and took him into your mouth.

You looked up at him and felt a surge of pride at the way his breath caught in his throat, before his hands came to rest on your head and he started to thrust into your wet warmth.

He started slow, like always, savouring the feeling of coming to full hardness inside your mouth, but in no time at all he was abusing your throat, forcing you to take the full length of him until your eyes watered and your head spun, before pulling back to allow air to rush into your tortured lungs.

Your pussy gushed with arousal, and you still hated yourself for getting off on being treated like this - for accepting the safety and shelter these three men could provide and paying them back with your body and pliancy. The old you would be furious at your acquiescence, but she’d probably also be dead. 

Above you, Bucky was letting out those small noises that signalled he was nearing his orgasm, so you pulled out all the stops, pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock and moving one of your hands to fondle his balls and press up behind them. When he pulled back to let you breathe, you dragged as much air into your lungs as possible, knowing this would be the last chance you’d get until he came. You had no wish to pass out this early in the morning.

His hips snapped, piston-like, as he fucked your face, and there were dark spots clouding your vision when he eventually came with a shout, spilling down your throat. The world came back into focus as he withdrew slowly, slate-blue eyes fixed on the ribbons of spit and cum that joined the pair of you as they stretched and then snapped.

The super soldier serum gave both him and Steve extreme endurance and short refractory periods, so the fact that Bucky’s cock was still fully hard was no surprise to you. His gaze shifted to you, almost dispassionately, before he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Сидеть. Ехать.” he commanded, and you pulled yourself up with your grip on his broad thighs. Two steps and you were straddling his lap, then with a change of grip, you were sinking down onto his cock, letting your eyes roll back as you enjoyed the stretch and the feeling of fullness.

A gentle, at least for him, slap to your cheek brought you out of your pleasured stupor, and you began to lever yourself up and down. Bucky’s hands curled around your hips, gripping tightly, and you couldn’t hold back a moan at his domineering treatment. Your own hands took hold of his shoulders, allowing you to move easier and he ducked his head to suck and bite meanly at your breasts.

Your cunt fluttered, your engorged clit rubbing against the rough thatch of hair at the base of him, and more salacious moans fell from your lips until you came with a loud cry.

In response, the least communicative of your lovers took over, his hands now moving you atop him, using you like a living cock sleeve until he too came with a grunt and ragged cry.

As you drifted off, your sweat covered body plastered to his, you realised he’d successfully distracted you from whatever was going on, out in the main part of the apartment.

A few days later you were enjoying one of those rare times where none of the men were making use of you, and you were sitting on the sofa, legs curled under you, as you read a book. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed reading until you’d been brought here and it became one of the few hobbies you could indulge in. 

It was mid afternoon, and Steve and Sam had been out for most of the morning - some kind of meeting as they hadn’t gone in their full tac gear, although it hadn’t escaped you that Steve had still taken his shield. Bucky had taken you to the bathroom, and made you warm his cock in the deep tub as you’d washed his hair. Afterwards he’d risen straight up with you in his arms, water streaming off the pair of you, and wedged you against the wall, fucking up into you until you’d both come twice. You’d then both settled down for a nap, and that’s where you’d left him - snoozing away, looking almost innocent - when you’d woken up an hour ago. 

When you’d made your way into the lounge you’d noticed that the other two must be back - the Shield was hung up by the door, and both their pairs of shoes had been discarded. They must have been in the other bedrooms, either separate or together, but if they’d wanted you, they would have come looking.

You were two chapters down when Steve appeared. He smiled gently at you, although it didn’t meet his eyes, before he came to join you, settling down onto the sofa cushions and letting out a sigh. Instinctively, you put your book to the side and your hands moved to his fly, but he halted you, by capturing both your wrists in one of his hands.

“No,” he said, and you cocked your head at him, searching his face for an explanation. “Believe it or not,” he continued with a wry chuckle, placing your hands back on your own lap, “I don’t always want to have sex.”

“Could have fooled me,” you replied, teasingly.

“Yeah, I deserve that. But in my defence, I am sharing a space with three very attractive people. You can’t blame me. However, I would like to hold you, if that’s alright.”

“You’ve never asked my permission before.” Your censuring response left your mouth unbidden, but you still climbed into his lap, allowing him to wrap his thick arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, breathing you in. 

“Hmph…” was Steve’s own reply before he lapsed into silence. You cradled his head and stroked his hair as you let your mind wander. This was totally new territory for the pair of you. Both Sam and Bucky had their affectionate moments with you, but Steve was far more stand-offish. Was this change in behaviour linked to whatever it was that they didn’t want you to know about? Was their reticence to tell you linked to a need to protect you, or because they still didn’t trust you? In truth, the latter was a fair consideration. You were still confused yourself, constantly torn between fully accepting your new life and wanting to escape your gilded cage because it was still a cage.

“Steve-.” You’d decided to voice your concerns, hopefully use this quiet moment to get some answers, but suddenly the door burst open, a group of what appeared to be guards or soldiers flooding in, followed by a tall man in a black trench coat, a shaved, bald head and an eye patch. Before Steve could put you aside and stand, three guns were pointed at him.

There were loud shouts, and Bucky and Sam skidded in from the bedrooms on opposite sides of your apartment, the former still naked, but seemingly uncaring of that fact. Multiple guns were also trained on them in an instant, and both of the men flashed Steve a look. He replied by holding up a cautioning hand, halting them although they still stood tensed and ready to fight.

The man in the coat stalked forward. “And there I was, thinking that you’d lost all sense, Rogers.”

Steve’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “Fury,” he said in acknowledgment, but there was clearly no deference in his tone.

“I’m not a stupid man. I know what you’ve been planning, and have decided it’s time to remind you who’s in charge here.”

“Any planning was only as a direct response to attempts to hurt me and mine, Director. I don’t like bullies, remember.”

Fury snorted and moved even closer, absolutely confident in the fact he had the upper hand.

“That’s rich, you know that? So narcissistic that you don’t even realise you’ve become the thing you profess to hate.”

You could feel the tension in Steve’s body, and you felt a frisson of fear, something you hadn’t felt so keenly since the day you’d been taken.

“And let’s face it, Captain, if I did want to hurt you, I’d go after the weakest link in your little pack.” He stopped right in front of you, looking down at you with condescension. “You leave her here, alone, for hours on end, while you're out, plotting your take over. I could have hit you hardest at any point I wanted. Why go after the highly trained and the super-powered when there’s an easier, softer target.”

You ground your teeth and glared up at the person who was apparently in charge of the entire conclave. Steve, Bucky and Sam may have kidnapped you, may have heavily persuaded you to take your place within their relationship, but they had never treated you as less because of your apparent physical weakness. And this man - Fury - didn’t seem to have really thought about what your life had been like before you were brought here - how you’d survived in the outland for as long as you had. You may look weak and were undoubtedly not a match to any of them, even Sam, but you weren’t a wilting flower to be easily trampled.

You glanced around, properly taking in the scene, the placement of soldiers relative to you and your lovers. It was them who were targeted. Not a single gun was trained upon you, non-threatening as you apparently were.

“So,” Steve asked tersely, “Where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?”

“You? Well you go nowhere. You, Barnes and Wilson stay right here, drowning in pools of your own blood. If you’re not going to respect the chain of command, then I’m going to remove you from it. As for me, I’m leaving with this sweet thing in tow. Looks like she’d be good breeding stock and she’s already broken in.”

You were moving before Steve could flinch, a snarl on your lips. “Not fucking likely!” You reached forward, under Fury’s coat to the pistol holstered at his hip. Your thumb flipped the safety and you pulled the trigger as you pressed the muzzle against his ribcage, angled slightly upwards. “Softer target, my ass.”

Fury’s mouth dropped open in shock and for a moment nobody moved, and then he coughed, blood welling up out of his mouth and he dropped to the floor.

Steve twisted on the sofa, sending you careening to the side, rolling over the arm and onto the floor in a tangle of your own limbs, the pistol still in your hand. The sound of gunfire filled the air, and the pained sounds of people being hit. However amongst that were also the sounds of bullets ricocheting off metal - presumably Bucky’s left arm and Steve’s shield - you knew both Sam and Bucky could use it, because the three often talked tactics on an evening, you sitting on one of their laps or on your knees between a set of thick thighs.

As the sounds of fighting died down, the reality of what you’d done began to sink in. You’d killed the leader of the New York Conclave. The director of Shield and de facto overseer of the Avengers. Your hands began to shake and the gun rattled in your grasp.

“Hey. Bunny. It’s alright.” A large hand came down over the one that had a deathgrip on the pistol, steadying it, before the other hand eased it from you. You looked up, wide-eyed into Steve’s cerulean gaze. He smiled down at you, a true smile this time. “You did it, sweetheart. You saved us all. We’re so proud of you. Come on, up you get.”

Steve helped to pull you to your feet from down the side of the couch, and you took in the scene around you. There was blood and bodies everywhere, including tell-tale splatters over the three men. You even saw some on the edge of the shield, now held in Bucky’s loose grip. Your legs buckled and bile rose up in your throat. Immediately, Steve swept you up and he strode over the corpses towards his bedroom.

“Sam,” he said over his shoulder. “Call Nat and Barton. Tell them it finally happened and get them to help clean up. Quietly. We’ll need to meet with Tony, Pepper and Rhody in the morning, but we need to look after our girl first. I’ll run her a bath while you take out the trash, then you can both join us.” He returned his gaze to you. “You’re truly our equal now, sweetheart. And when we take over the running of this place in the next few days, you’ll be the most powerful woman here.” He ducked his head and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. “First though, we’re going to show you how grateful we are, and ruin you again in the process. Our fierce bunny.”

Bucky says

Нет, Банни. Это не для тебя. Возвращайся в постель.  - No, Bunny. That is not for you. Come back to bed

Никто не важен. - No one important.

“Перестань быть своевольный и делай то, что тебе говорят. - Stop being bratty, and do what you’re told.

Сидеть. Ехать. - Sit. Ride.

Tag list: @christywrites, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@apenny4thots, @endlesstwanted, @king814318

@km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[magical-reid]

Remembering James

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Barnes!Reader (No use of Y/N, reader is referred as Mrs./Dr. Barnes)

Setting: Modern MCU timeline, Avengers Tower.

Perspective: Third Person Limited (Reader’s perspective).

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Dr. Barnes, a super soldier with no memory of her past, is called to assist the Avengers, where she encounters Bucky Barnes, a man she feels inexplicably drawn to but doesn't remember. As she begins to reconnect with her past, she discovers a deep bond with Bucky that was lost to time and memory.

Hospitals were familiar, almost comforting in their routine. Between the soft hum of monitors and the sterile scent of disinfectant, you’d carved out a life here, even if you had no idea where you’d come from before it.

You woke up one day, seventy years displaced, with only a few clues to your identity: a simple wedding band, dog tags clutched in your hand, and the name James tattooed on the inside of your wrist. The world said you were a super soldier, part of a classified experiment during World War II, but your own memories didn’t agree—or, more accurately, they didn’t exist.

James Barnes. Who are you?

The hospital pager clipped to your scrubs buzzed sharply, dragging you back to the present.

“Paging Dr. Barnes,” the voice crackled over the intercom. “Stark Enterprises has a… situation. You’ve been requested to assist the Avengers immediately. Pack your things.”

You groaned softly. Tony Stark always had a flair for dramatics.

Meeting the Avengers

You spotted them the moment they entered the ER. Steve Rogers led the group, all commanding presence and tightly-wound charm. Behind him was Sam Wilson, cracking a grin at something Steve said. But it was the third man—the one with long, dark hair and intense blue eyes—that stopped you in your tracks.

You knew him. Or you thought you did.

You'd only remembered seeing his face on the news, plastered beside headlines of destruction and redemption. But here, in person, the sight of him struck a chord. Something inside you stirred. The name was on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came to you except a strange feeling in your chest: part longing, part ache.

“Dr. Barnes?” Steve’s voice broke through the haze, his hand extended for a handshake. “I’m Captain Steve Rogers. Tony asked us to escort you to the Tower.”

“Of course,” you said, plastering on a professional smile, though your gaze flickered back to the man Steve hadn’t introduced. He stood stiffly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes stayed glued to you, like he was memorizing every detail.

“And you are?” you asked, directing the question to him.

“James,” he said softly. Then, louder: “Bucky Barnes.”

You froze. Your breath hitched as the dog tags hidden beneath your scrub top suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

James Barnes. My James?

A Familiar Stranger

The ride to Avengers Tower was uneventful, though Bucky’s presence loomed in the confined space of the Quinjet. He sat across from you, his gloved hands gripping the edge of his seat. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you before quickly looking away.

When you arrived, Tony wasted no time giving you a tour of the medbay, but your attention kept drifting back to the Winter Soldier. He hovered at the edge of your vision like a shadow. Something about him felt… familiar.

Bucky’s Plan

Bucky clenched his fists to hide their trembling.

She didn't remember him.

When Steve had first read Dr. Barnes' profile aloud the name had nearly floored Bucky. Seventy years and a broken mind hadn't dulled his memory of her: his wife. Bucky’s memories of you were sharp, even after decades of Hydra’s brainwashing. The night he’d met you—the base nurse who’d patched up his wounds with a quick wit and an even quicker smile—was etched into his soul. Marrying you, even in the chaos of wartime, had been the best decision of his life.

And yet, when he saw you today, you looked right through him, now you didn’t remember him.

The thought was unbearable. But Bucky had a plan. If you didn’t remember him, then he’d make sure you noticed him now.

Operation: Get Her Attention

Day One: The Phantom Bruise

Bucky sauntered into the medbay with a practiced limp. “Hey, Doc, think I twisted something.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I watched you spar earlier. You didn’t limp then.”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into an almost-boyish grin. “Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes but motioned for him to sit. As you examined him, your hand brushing his leg, he couldn’t help but smirk. He caught your hand lingering on the dog tags peeking out of your shirt before you tucked them away.

Day Three: The Paper Cut Incident

“What is it this time?” you asked, folding your arms as Bucky entered the medbay again.

He held up his finger, a comically tiny paper cut visible. “Could be infected,” he said solemnly.

You sighed but grabbed some antiseptic anyway. “You’re worse than the interns.”

His smirk only grew. “I like the personal touch.”

Day Five: The Classic “Accident”

During training, Bucky deliberately let himself take a tumble—hard enough to make Steve wince.

You appeared a few minutes later, muttering under your breath about reckless super soldiers. “Did you do this on purpose?” you asked as you examined his bruised ribs.

“Would I do that?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Absolutely.”

The Dog Tags

One day, you caught him staring at you in the gym, his focus unwavering. You were sparring with Natasha, and though you didn’t have the same bulk as Bucky or Steve, your strength and agility had Natasha on the defensive.

When you landed a sharp jab, your dog tags swung free of your shirt. You saw Bucky’s eyes narrow as they caught the light.

After the match, he approached you, his expression unreadable. “You always wear those?”

“Always.” You tucked them back into your shirt, your voice soft. “They mean something.”

“To you or to him?” His voice was almost bitter.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He turned and walked away before you could press further.

The Gala

Tony’s party was as over-the-top as expected. You didn’t often dress up, but tonight you’d chosen a sleek black gown with a high slit that revealed just a hint of leg. The dog tags hung openly around your neck, their weight grounding you.

You spotted Bucky across the room, leaning against the bar in a dark suit. He wasn’t looking at you; he was staring.

“Careful,” Natasha teased, nudging him as she joined him at the bar. “You’ll scare her off if you keep looking at her like that.”

“She’s wearing them,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Natasha’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Dog tags? Thought so. What’s the story there, Barnes?”

“Long one.”

Natasha smirked. “You should tell her.”

You caught his eye, and this time, you didn’t look away. Slowly, you walked across the room, your dress swaying with every step. When you reached him, you tilted your head.

“Care to dance?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Always.”

As you danced, your hand slipped to your wrist, brushing the tattoo.

“I remember,” you whispered.

His breath hitched. “You… do?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Took me long enough, huh?”

The Morning After

The smell of coffee led you to the kitchen, wearing nothing but Bucky’s shirt and your wedding band shining proudly on your finger. Your hair was a mess, your makeup smudged, and the dog tags were finally out in the open.

Natasha was the first to notice, her smirk widening as Bucky walked in behind you.

“Well,” she drawled, “looks like the happy couple had a good night.”

Steve coughed awkwardly into his hand. Sam burst into laughter.

Bucky blushed furiously and buried his face in his hands, but you just grinned, leaning into his side. For the first time in decades, everything felt right, and this time he wasn't letting go.

[thezombieprostitute]

Oh, Sam is gonna take real good care of her!

I really don't blame her reluctance. As she says, these things don't actually happen. Suddenly being granted a life without work, bills, bad bosses? I'd be hesitant to accept it's real as well.

Thankfully Sam is showing he can be very good to her and for her.

Vibranium Knight

Warnings:- Mild Kidnapping, Use of Pet Names, Cockwarming, P in V Smut.  18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- @targaryenvampireslayer just a little something I wrote for you Suz to hopefully make your working day a little brighter.  Sorry it took so long but I hope it’s worth the wait being that this is my first time writing for this character I know you adore..

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Enjoying a beautiful Spring day was not supposed to introduce you to a whole new world of possibilities but that’s exactly what happens when your distracted state intersects with an Avenger on a totally personal mission.

Pairings:- dark-ish!Sam Wilson x Female Reader.

Word Total:- 4,836

The office was quiet as you sat down at your desk and turned on the monitor, but the silence didn't really help.  The truth was nothing did.  ‘Why did it have to be this way?’ you thought as you now stood back up and headed for the nearest coffee machine while your computer flickered to life and the pinging of the elevator told you that soon your colleagues would be filing out of it to join you in another monotonous day of being totally undervalued while you scrimped and saved to hopefully retire before the humdrum working existence stole all semblance of joy from your life.

Sitting back down now and stealing a quick, generous amount of the caffeine infused beverage designed to see you through the day, you nodded kindly at your colleagues and exchanged pleasantries about your weekend activities before throwing yourself headlong into your work and counting down the seconds until lunch brought a much needed and welcome relief.  Or at least that's what it usually did.

Powering down your computer at the 1 o'clock mark and picking up your jacket while rising from your chair, a brisk walk to the elevator past the fire alarm that you'd dreamed so often of pulling just to add some excitement to the boring office routine, a smooth, uninterrupted trip down to the ground floor and your were free.  At least temporarily anyway.

Stepping outside the door then and taking in a few delightful breaths of the sweet spring air, you contemplated getting in your car, letting the top down and just spending your hour's break cruising around the city.  After all, it wasn't very often you got weather like this that let you feel the wind in your face or the sun shining down on you in a manner that wouldn't leave you burning up from the inside out afterwards.  No, this was exactly the type of weather you relished.

Not too hot, not too cold, you took one last delightful lungful and agreed instead that this was far too glorious a day to waste even a second of it sitting around in smog-fueled traffic.  Walking instead now to your favorite restaurant and collecting your usual order to go, you next headed to the local park and finding one of the easily accessible benches beside the river, sat down and tucked into the mouthwatering ramen noodle dish that only David managed to prepare just the way you liked it.

Although to be fair you thought as you took that first delicious bite and savored every single flavor that assaulted your taste buds, the other staff members never really screwed up this dish and it was the main reason you loved their food so much, but there was just something extra that seemed to make it taste a whole lot nicer when David made it.  Maybe he added something the others didn't.  Maybe it was his infectious smile and sunny disposition.  And then just maybe, it was the fact that he always had it hot and prepared for you the second you walked in as if he somehow accepted how excruciatingly tedious and demanding your work environment was and how precious this lunchtime break was for you.

A good deed in a weary world.  And yet something so small that made a world of difference to you.

Finishing up your meal now and dumping the rubbish in the nearest bin provided, you then decided that a bit of exploration was due you before you headed back to the grind of daily life necessary to pay your bills and afford you some small pleasure away from the hustle and bustle of trying to get a leg up in the corporate world.  And perhaps it was this very ruminating that found you off the beaten track in an area of the park you had never ventured before as a cloth came up to cover your mouth while the world went black all around you.

Coming back to the waking world some time later with absolutely no idea of what had happened in between or how much time had passed exactly, two things at least were perfectly clear .... and only one of them brought you any semblance of relief.  Looking around the room now while simultaneously focusing your gaze on the outside world that greeted you through a nearby window, you knew beyond all doubt now that this was not your apartment while the vegetation blooming back at you confirmed this too was no longer the city you knew and worked in.  As for the second thing?  Well, the pounding in your head told you you were well and truly alive, but whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

Rising slowly from the bed now and thankful from your head to your toes that every stitch of clothing you had last put on was at least in place, you still needed to know exactly what was going on.  Walking then from the side of the huge bed over to the double doors that clearly opened on the outside world, you placed your palms on the handles and sent up a silent plea before quietly as possible pushing down and releasing a breath as the latches gave way and an exit appeared.  Giving one last look behind you then to make sure you hadn't alerted whomever it was that brought you here against your will, you next stepped forwards into the unknown and faced what lay ahead.  And what an experience that was.

Gazing around you now at wide open fields in every direction set against the backdrop of a picturesque mountain and river, it would have taken your breath away if not for the truth of what it revealed .... you were totally and utterly cut off from civilized society.  Taking an extra few moments still to just stand there and soak in the peace and tranquility so evident in every rock and blade of grass before you, you then pulled yourself away from the quiet and headed back towards the house.  It was time to figure out where you went from here.

Turning around then and walking back through the double doors that just moments ago had offered you freedom and then stolen it away just as easily, you stopped up short however when a man appeared through another door in the bedroom covered in only a towel as water droplets running down his exposed upper half told you he had just returned from a shower.  Which actually explained why your absence had gone unnoticed .... at least until now.

"Well hello there chicklet, am I to assume by your return that you're not yet ready to try and make a run for it?" he asked while you simply stared blankly back at him as a thousand questions exploded in your mind like fireworks on the 4th of July.  Yet nothing came out.  So it seemed he would have to try again.  "You don't remember me, do you chicklet?" he now asked as he walked fully into the room, closed the doors you had neglected in your shock and then sat down on the seat situated at the foot of the bed to await your response.  A response that came rather quickly this time.

"Remember you?  When the hell did I ever meet you?" you asked, but any answer from him was unnecessary as flashes of memory answered your own question for you.  For you see you had met him.

Oh sure it was now a lifetime ago and he went by The Falcon back then, but there was no mistaking that beautiful smile, those soft eyes or the fact that you haven't lived your life under a rock.  No, the whole world knew of Sam Wilson.  Formerly known as the heroic Falcon, now carrying the mantle of Captain America, the whole world had witnessed his strength and character when The Flagsmashers had sought to create even more chaos out of the tragedy that was the Blip and the resulting return of all those people that had been snapped away.  You on the other hand knew him personally.  Kind of.

Sitting by the catwalk many years back at a New York Fashion Week event your friend Alice had somehow managed to get both of you tickets for, your memory of lying beneath the strapping superhero when guns began blasting and bullets started flying might have remained more prominent in your mind if it wasn't for well .... said gunfight.  As it was, you remembered being tackled to the ground, moved this way and that to a safe place before the winged superhero told you to stay put upon rising from your position and heading off to help The Black Widow deal with whatever skirmish was wreaking havoc on the spectacular event.

No, that was definitely an encounter you were only too happy to forget.  Even if it did include a run-in with an actual Avenger.  But wait, if Sam Wilson was still an Avenger and he was now currently occupying a house in the middle of absolutely nowhere with you, then what exactly did that mean for your current location?  After all, you had woken up that morning in England just like you did every other morning and Sam Wilson, as far as you could recall, was everything good that the United States of America had to offer.  But they were oceans apart.  Literally.  So where the hell were you now?

In the time you had lost had you somehow been transported across the Atlantic to the good old U. S. of A.?   Or was Captain America himself currently shacked up in the most idyllic of settings deep in the heart of the English countryside?  Looking out the double doors once more and realizing now that you could in no way place this location in either country, you were about to give up and ask him where both of you were when a glance through the door he had just entered brought a whole new set of questions and distractions flooding through your mind.

Walking into that room while completely ignoring the half naked Adonis and staring in awe now at the rows of fabric that had caught your attention, one half of what appeared to be a gigantic closet filled with fabulous dresses, comfy casual wear and shoes that would have made Miranda Priestly swoon told you that you were in far more serious trouble than you had previously imagined.  For this situation was not something that had just sprung up overnight.  No, every little detail here had been meticulously planned.  So turning back to the bedroom now and facing the man you suspected to be your abductor, you took a deep breath before asking that very same man what the fuck was going on.

"Aw come on now chicklet, isn't it obvious?" he asked with a smirk before continuing as you sat down on the chair nestled in the corner of the room.  "I built this place for you.  For us.  This beautiful, isolated spot where you can live a life of pampered luxury without that tedious job sapping your joy and killing your creativity.  I've read some of your work, you know.  Who says fantasies don't come true?"

Staring at him blankly now as your mind began spinning with what he had just told you, your anxiety spiked to the point where if you weren't sitting down you would most possibly pass out yet again.  As it was, you now had no alternative but to tell your brain to shut up and think.  For what he was saying couldn't possibly be real.  Right?

Oh sure, you were far from stupid or naïve.  Anyone these days could find anything on the internet with enough savvy if they looked hard enough and of course you were well aware that one or two celebrities at least poked their virtual heads on Tumblr from time to time.  BUT THIS?  Had Sam Wilson really found your blog and read your fics?  Had he truly discovered your secret desire to feel his powerful, naked body pressed against yours after he rescued you from a job that treated you no better than a mechanical robot tapping away at a keyboard and answering questions for people who couldn't even be bothered to thank you afterwards?  Worse yet, how had he managed to put all the pieces together and actually track you down?

No, this couldn't seriously be what was happening here.

Looking up at him now however and seeing the truth etched quite plainly on his handsome face, you quickly got up from your chair and began frantically pacing back and forth before him as your anxiety spiked once more to levels you barely remembered previously experiencing.  "No, no, no.  This can't be happening.  This can't be happening. This.  Can't.  Be.  Happening," you now repeated like a manta in the hopes that saying it enough times, with enough conviction, might make it so.  But that didn't happen as was evidenced when the man whose presence you now tried desperately to ignore reached out, pulled you onto his lap and stopped your ranting the only way he knew was guaranteed to shock you out of your current state.

He kissed you.  And what a kiss it was.

Slow and deep.  Soft and with nothing but luscious lips well versed in the art of seduction, the humming that left your throat as his lips first massaged your top one and then your bottom before alternating back and forth would have been a sound he could happily listen to all day if he didn't have other plans.  For he wanted to hear you scream.  Continuing to gently devour your lips without seeking entry, his hands now moved to cup your ass and massage here too as your brain began the process of slowing down the panic currently controlling your system.  After all he did want you to agree to this and for that he needed you to be calm and thinking clearly.  Well as clearly as his kisses would allow anyway.

Switching from a humming to a purring now as his ministrations continued to calm you while a warm feeling slowly made itself known between your thighs, you were finally relaxed enough to ask Sam what the plan was next, but it seemed he asked that question for you first.  "So chicklet, can I interest you in a life of pleasure and debauchery after all?" he asked as his lips finally left yours and he pulled back from your face just long enough for you to look into his eyes as he continued, "What do you say?  You willing to live here and let your creativity flourish while I spend my days saving the world and my nights ravishing every inch of this .... divine specimen," he finished as his palms squeezed your ass cheeks while his eyes roamed over your clothed form as if it was the most glorious sight he had ever seen.

And maybe it was, but you rarely thought so.

Looking back at him now in return as if he had completely lost his mind and wanting to tell him so, you opened your mouth to turn down his proposal but his lips now buried against your neck brought a whole different response.  One you never consciously planned on making.  "Yes.  Yes.  Oh my god, yes," you moaned out continuously as Sam now nibbled on your neck and shoulders before soothing the harsher nips with his tongue while his hands still caressed your ass and made you wonder if you could actually orgasm from this situation alone.  Which was actually a frightening concept when you thought about it.

Coming to your senses long enough now as a result of this stray thought however, you pushed back slightly from the man beneath you to fully take in the position you were in.  Sitting atop the thighs of Captain America, who was currently wearing nothing but a towel as he set the embers burning in your loins, you wanted to tell him to slow things down but he wasn't having any of it.  You had accepted his offer and he now intended to show you exactly what that meant.  "May I chicklet?" he asked and before your mouth could raise any objections, your head gave an imperceptible nod and that was all the consent he needed.

Returning to kiss your lips now as his tongue this time sought to invade your mouth and distract you from what his hands were doing, you might have been shocked by the strength he displayed in standing up with you in his arms and letting the towel fall from his waist if he wasn't so good with his damn mouth.  As it was, he was very good.  Kissing you endlessly, while twisting his tongue with yours as well as biting it gently every few swirls, you only now noticed the changes taking place when his face disappeared from before you, your back now rested against his chest and the closet door appeared in your vision once more.  He had completely turned you around without ever letting you go.

But that wasn't even the most remarkable feat.

Sitting on his lap still as his lips now returned to tasting any bit of skin they came in contact with, your brain tried to figure out not how he had done what he'd done, but how your jeans and panties now lay lodged around your ankles as his hands began to make themselves acquainted with your most private region.  Roaming along your thighs, squeezing here and there as well as opening you up as wide as was possible atop his powerful legs, the warmth now spreading outwards from your core just ached for him to quench it but he just wanted to have some fun.  And all at your expense it seemed.

Running his fingers back and forth along your slit now as his other hand slid up your top to rest against your stomach, you whined and pleaded for him to make you come but that it seemed was not yet in his immediate plans.  Circling your clit extremely slowly instead to the point where your hips began to move against him, he stopped and slapped your pussy once before chuckling into your neck at the yelp that left your tender lips.  "Patience chicklet, we're a long ways off from making you squirt all over my sheets but .... maybe I can give you something to take the edge off," he offered and with that he once again defied the laws of man by somehow using a foot to finish removing your lower garments before lifting you up and slotting his shaft into your warm, wet and waiting pussy.

And what a feeling it was .... for both of you.  Long and hard and thick enough to split your lower regions apart, you were by no means an innocent virgin, but you suddenly doubted you would ever be satisfied with any rod other than the one currently making its presence known to your fluttering walls.  Not that Sam had any intention of allowing another man or his equipment anywhere near you.

Making you comfortable then as your perfect flower held him snugly in place and his weeping tip just kissed your cervix, his hands now removing your top clothes while his lips by your ear whispered not to move told you his plan was a simple one .... to pleasure you with everything he had except what you really, really wanted.  In other words, he planned to torture you.

Verbally railing against him now as his hands began massaging your breasts while his lips now became acquainted with every bump and dip along your spine, your hands moving down to tend to the ache between your legs brought a murderous slew of profanities streaming from your mouth as his teeth made themselves known to the soft juncture of your neck and your shoulder.

"Chicklet no," he reprimanded now as he pulled his teeth back and he ran his lips over the spot that was sure to sport a lovely mark come morning, "you'll get your release when I give it to you and not a second sooner," he continued as his hands now moved further upwards to allow his fingers dance against your shoulder blades.  Pressing here and kissing there now as you held onto his thighs to keep from toppling forwards, the moans you soon started releasing as his skillful talents worked out knots you never knew existed were matched only by the devious chuckles coming from the man behind you when the odd thrust upwards added a growl from you every now and then.

The bastard wasn't playing fair.

Continuing to run his fingers over every inch of your glorious body as his hands moved down to finally rest atop yours, you hoped now you might finally get some release, but Sam it seemed still wasn't cooperating.  Taking your left hand in his now and linking your fingers together, he next took your hand and moved it to his sac before speaking.  "You feel that chicklet?  What you do to me?  You have no idea the number of nights I've gotten myself off to your writing wishing we could make it real.  Who knows, now that I have you we might even give your back door the attention it so desperately craves," he added and realizing what he was now referencing, your body produced a burst of strength you never knew you possessed and hurled you back across the room as horror dawned on your face while surprise clearly settled on Sam's.

"Please tell me you've taken one too many blows to the head and taken leave of your senses?" you now asked as you reached for the throw resting on the chair and wrapping it around you while waiting for the superhero to prove your suspicions wrong.  For he couldn't possibly be suggesting that.

Unfortunately for you however that's exactly where his mind was headed.  Reiterating once more that he wanted to experience everything with you, both sexual and otherwise, he now joined you on the floor before promising that any and all adventures would only take place when you were ready and with your complete and unwavering consent.

Content at least with the sincerity you found in his eyes and voice, you agreed in principle to give him a chance as he then stood up, offered his hand and pulled you gently from the floor when you easily obliged.  Walking you to the bed then before tipping up back onto it, a few kisses later and his shaft was buried deep inside your pussy as his eyes stared into yours and fingers once more laced with your own just inches from the headboard.

Pulling out slowly then before plunging back in at the same leisurely pace so your quivering walls felt every ridge, vein and twitch his impressive phallus possessed, it was nothing compared to the magic his lips were working.  Feasting on your breasts with just enough pressure to dull the lines between pleasure and pain, his tongue soothing the skin felt like utter bliss.  As were his words.

Dripping with honey and whispered out between bites and moans, the professions of love, praise and plans for your future together did far more in this moment to turn you on really than anything his physical form was capable of.  It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.  Continuing to gaze into his eyes now as you felt your body moving ever closer to that elusive release you thought would never come, Sam stalled his hips just long enough to whisper those three little words that sent a flutter straight to your heart as your walls contracted and tried to pull him deeper.

"I offer freedom," and with that he kissed you deeper than he had before, brought your interlocked hands closer together and pounded into you with such abandon now that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.  And yet you still didn't feel pain.  There was nothing but love and pleasure and as both of you finally reached the precipice and leapt forwards together there was a strange sense of completeness.  Of being whole.

Continuing then to kiss you through your orgasms as wave after wave of warm cum flooded your insides and reached the sheets as Sam had earlier promised, your eyes closing on this liberating experience shut out any words he murmured as sleep dragged you into its welcoming embrace.

Opening your eyes on the world again and almost crying out from the loss of the dream that was both bizarrely weird yet oddly satisfying, you snuggled deeper into the soft sheets to hold onto the memory a little while longer.  For you didn't want it to disappear.  Someone had wanted to worship you.  To love you, provide for you and show you that their world began and ended with you.  But of course that only proved it had to vanish.  Work wouldn't wait, wouldn't give you what you most craved.

Groaning in frustration now as you resigned yourself to heading back to the daily grind, a hand appearing from behind you and resting across your stomach brought your focus squarely and securely on the other half of the bed however.  For it seemed you weren't alone.  Frantically wondering what to do now in regards to fight, flight or simply screaming your lungs out like the damsel did in every single horror movie you had ever watched, turning slowly now to assess the situation brought a whole new shocking and wondrous revelation to your unbelieving eyes.  The dream it seemed was real.

Laying beside you now, his hand still resting where it had just landed, his naked form clothed in fabric and sleep, Sam Wilson looked a vision if such a thing could be said about a man.  But what then did this mean for you?  Was the dream actually real and not a dream at all?  Had this real life, honest to goodness superhero been serious when he offered to pamper and pleasure you every second his presence wasn't required to save the world?  Did this really mean you never had to work in that deplorable, dead end job again where you were less valued than the office chair you sat on?

Contemplating all these questions now while reaching out to touch the man beside you simply to further confirm his existence was real, you were just about to place your palm gently upon his cheek when you thought better of it.  This was nuts.  Total, complete and utter bonkers.  Your life wasn't meant to be this easy and carefree.  Writing stories and having your every sexual desire catered to by your very own superhero.  Never again having to worry about bills, unappreciative bosses or rude customers whom it seemed had never been taught terms like kindness or common decency.

No, things like this never happened to you and so as you resigned yourself to the fact that all of this was simply wishful thinking, you turned away from the god before you and prepared to exit the bed and return to the reality that was your life.  But it seemed this trip was only ever meant to be one way.

Joining you now away from the peaceful embrace of slumber that previously held all of his attention, Sam opened his eyes, reached out his other hand and pulled you tighter towards him.  "Now, now chicklet, I hope you don't plan on sneaking out of our bed to run off somewhere at this god awful early hour.  It's too warm and cozy here for me to have to chase you down and fuck you where I catch you," he murmured between still sleepy breaths.

Gulping down your shock now as images of his glorious erection splitting you apart the previous night sprang forth before your eyes, his knowing smirk told you he had you right where he wanted you.  You weren't yet ready for another round.  Still unsure of where he got his stamina from and how you were meant to keep up, the throbbing still present in your pussy and his intense gaze raking over your equally naked form quickly and easily made up your mind.

Now was the time to be his good girl.

Finally admitting defeat and turning back onto your side, you silently allowed Sam Wilson to spoon your bodies together and pull the covers back over both of you before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep with the promise that when you woke again you would try employing reason and common sense to regain control over your future.  Even if the grip around your midsection solidly confirmed your plan was doomed to failure and the future he promised was now yours for the taking.

[myfictionaldreams]

Hey, can you do something with where the reader is pregnant in mafia stucky and Bucky and Steve are super protective about her?

Xoxo

Our Little Bean // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for your request, this has been requested quite a few times by many people so I hope you do enjoy!

Important note for readers: I'm currently working within maternity services within the UK so the pregnancy side of this is all based on a UK perspective but it's set in the US so apologies if anything is different over there. Also, the signs and symptoms are based on my bestie's pregnancy so thank you for letting me use these!

ALSO: I'm sorry if I don't do any more pregnancy/baby fics, I wanted to just do this one and return to the normal trio we had before.

Tags: 18+ readers only, unplanned pregnancy, fluff (LOTS!), comfort, soft steve/bucky, protectiveness, pregnancy kink, pet names, pregnancy symptoms discussed in detail, crying, family/domestic fluff, tooth-rotting goodness!

Words: 6.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Your nausea never seemed to settle, barely being able to keep down dry toast or sips of water and then there was the immense exhaustion, finding yourself to be lucky if you were awake for an hour before falling asleep again. This, paired with the dizzy spells and dull aches in your temples, it was safe to say that you were done with feeling unwell and you definitely blamed Sam Wilson for this. He’d turned up to work last week feeling unwell, slightly different symptoms to yours as he had a head cold but ill nonetheless and now, here you were, collapsed onto the couch in the living room, under a mount of blankets.

It wasn’t all bad however as Bucky had stayed home to look after you and he was doing a good job of it too, but he and Steve were always extra attentive when you were unwell and had been taking it in turns to stay home, with Steve having stayed with you yesterday.

Bucky today had helped you wash, changed into fresh pyjamas and then carried downstairs, tucking you into your little fort before sitting on the floor and reading the book you were halfway through reading. You were too tired to read and didn’t want to keep your eyes open so Bucky offered, which was hilarious to hear him trying to read along and then asking questions as to the type of books you’ve been reading.

“So who is this Rhysand guy? Just some hotshot king or something?” he asked, lowering the book to look at your resting face. You smiled tiredly at his question, opening one eye to look into his confused expression, he was already invested in your book, even though he had started more than halfway through.

“Something like that”, you replied, voice croaking from needing water which he was quick to notice, lifting the glass with the straw to your mouth and you hummed your thanks, taking a sip and closing your eye once more.

You fell back to sleep again and woke to be carried, noticing that it was dark outside with another day passing as Steve carried you up the stairs, having returned home from work. Your arms were trapped into the blanket cocooned you were being carried in so you nuzzled your face into his neck to let him know you were awake.

Steve tilted his head, kissing the top of yours as he placed you into the centre of your shared bed, “think you’re up for eating some chicken noodle soup?”

“Did you make it?”, your voice was full of hope as you blinked open your eyes to look up at him but made no attempt to move just yet.

“Of course, only the best for you”. Steve left to retrieve your soup, giving you time for another quick snooze, before he was back and shaking your shoulders. With his help, you untangled yourself from the soft blankets and attempted to sit up but were hit with a wave of dizziness, having to stop and close your eyes to get your bearings straight before it subsided and you could sit up properly. Steve was looking at you with a knowing glance as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm noodle soup bowl in his lap that he began to spoon-feed you - something he insisted on. “You know I’m going to call the doctor, right?”

You release a frustrated huff, you didn’t need the doctor, “It’s fine though, it’ll pass. Sam said it took him 4 days before he started to feel better and I’m only on day 3”.

“Baby, you’re on day 4 and you said this all yesterday and it’s only getting worse”, he stated everything matter-of-factly but you were still shocked that you’d somehow missed an entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and there was no use arguing with Steve when it came to your health.

So after you’d finished half a bowl of the soup before feeling queasy, Steve excused himself to call his doctor who just so happened to be a close family friend. Of course, you had fallen asleep before the Doctor arrived and being rudely awakened made you feel even more groggy and unwell as Steve whispered, “Sorry honey, but Doctor Banner’s here to check you over”.

Steve excused himself so the Doctor could check you over properly without feeling pressured by the mafia boss in the room. Doctor Banner put you at ease though with his warming personality and you’d met him on a few occasions anyway when Steve or Bucky were more injured through an event with work, but you’d never had him look after you before.

The two of you ran through the general list, ‘When did you start feeling like this?’, ‘What are your symptoms?’, before he began doing your vital signs, temperature and blood pressure, all just normal procedures.

“Could you be pregnant?” he casually asked as he velcroed the blood pressure cuff from your arm.

Frowning you answered, “Um no…no, I’m on birth control, so I shouldn’t be”.

“Do you mind if we do a quick test just to tick it off of the list? All you need to do is pee in this cup and I’ll dip a test strip into it”.

You wobbled to the toilet on unsteady feet, realising this is probably the first time you’d properly walked in days because the boys insisted on carrying you everywhere. As you used the toilet, you didn’t think anything of the test, leaving the cup on the side for the doctor and returning back to bed, wondering if he’s going to give you some antibiotics or just see how you get on over the next few days.

After a few minutes, your eyes were closed but you could hear the Doctor returning so you asked, “So, do you think it’s just the flu like I said-”

“It’s not the flu, your test was positive”.

Your eyes snap open to look at him, sitting up and feeling dizzy but ignoring it, “what? What do you mean it’s positive?”

Doctor Bruce held up the little white strip that had two purple lines on it. You looked between the test and his face as he calmly smiled, “You’re pregnant”.

“What if the test is wrong? Can we do it again?” Thankfully he didn’t fight you on this and gave you the packet of tests, you grabbed two and stumbled back to the bathroom. Both strips gave the exact result and now it felt like your heart was coming out of your mouth it was pounding so hard and loudly in your ears.

“Take a deep breath for me”, Doctor Banner calmly instructed as he placed a steady hand on your back in case you needed extra support. You took a few deep breaths, not even realising that you had been holding your breath. Gripping onto the bathroom side, you began to feel dizzy again so he helped you back to bed waiting until you were settled before continuing.

“This explains your symptoms, I’d say you were in your early stages of pregnancy so we’ll book an appointment with the midwife tomorrow and sort out things like a scan. You may feel that your symptoms get worse over the next few weeks and if they do, you can always call me back but otherwise, stay rested and take it easy”.

You were only half listening. Midwife? Scans? Symptoms getting worse? There was so much for your brain to process. There was an actual baby inside of your body right now, a part of you and… who? Your anxiety was increasing with each second as you tried to let the words sink in as the Doctor packed his stuff away. Did you want to have a baby right now? You had always wanted kids but were you even ready at this stage of your life but then again… was anyone ready for a baby when they were accidentally knocked up?

Then the knocked-up by who question echoed through your thoughts. You obviously didn’t know if the baby was Steve's or Bucky’s, so would they be upset about this? If it was planned at least there could be some way you could arrange who to have sex with to know for sure but now… you were all in the dark about the paternity. You didn’t care if it was Steve or Bucky, you were always a trio in every sense of the word but now that this was your reality, would they be pissed off? And were they even ready for kids? The business took so much of their time and was still very dangerous but this was bound to happen eventually as you all wanted children.

Bucky and Steve had always been very open that they wanted kids, especially Bucky with his affection name for you being ‘mama’, he often would talk about his fantasy of seeing you barefoot and pregnant with his kid. So, at least you knew they were on the same page about wanting to have children but now it was the stress of is now the right time and who was the father of the baby?

You were vaguely aware of the Doctor bidding his farewells, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow and I’ll let you tell your partners the good news”. You offered a half-assed wave to him as he left, before staring at your hands in your lap, completely petrified for the next few minutes.

Steve and Bucky wandered in a few beats later, sitting on either side of you on the bed but you couldn’t look them in the eye, trying desperately to hold it together.

“Everything ok, Doll? The Doc didn’t tell us what was wrong, just said you would explain”, Bucky asked, stroking a finger down your arm to try and soothe you but it was enough to make you break.

You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands.

“Honey? What is it? Talk to us”, Steve encouraged, attempting to pull your hands away from  your face but you held them there tightly so instead, he pulled your body into his lap, your legs over his thighs so that you could hide your face into his chest, the sobs building in intensity and everything was just so overwhelming. You were excited, scared, relieved but nervous, it was a lot to handle.

Steve and Bucky encouraged you to talk to them both, becoming more unsettled with your increasing hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, and it helped as Bucky held both your hands, rubbing circles into your skin and Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. You decided it was better to just tell them than keep it to yourself any longer.

With your face still pressed into Steve’s face, you whispered “I’m pregnant”, however, it was so muffled and quiet that neither man heard you.

“What was that sweetheart?”, Steve asked, trying to pull you away enough that both men could see your tear-stained face.

The words sounded strange coming from your mouth as you kept your head hanging lowly, mumbling, “I’m pregnant”.

You knew that they had heard this time by the way both completely froze, not even breathing as they processed the news. Bucky finally whispered, “What?”

You still couldn’t look at him, scared you’d see disappointment or anger in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked in such a faint voice you were shocked it was even from him.

Nodding your head at his question you explained, “We checked a couple of times, he thinks I’m still in my early pregnancy but-ah!”

You jumped as Bucky all but tackled you and Steve, his lips kissing every part of your face that he could reach and when he pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, you took in the glowing grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with love as he shouted, “you’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”

Steve then seemed to snap out of his initial shock and his arms tightened and lifted your body further up so he could kiss your face just as happily as Bucky before nuzzling into your neck, breathing you in, “I love you so much sweetheart, I can’t believe it! Wait, why were you crying, are you not excited?”

He relaxed his hold on you so that they could both see you properly and you had room to look at them both. “I... I am excited! I just wasn’t sure how you would both react as I don’t know which of you is the dad-”

Bucky leans across and kisses your lips quickly cutting off your sentence, the grin still broad across his face, “I don’t fucking care, if the baby has my genes or Steve’s, we’re all in this together, remember? That’s what we’ve agreed on”.

“So you aren’t upset?” you wanted to clarify.

“Fuck no hot mama… and you’re actually going to be a mama! This little bean is ours, all of ours!”

You were crying again with relief, “you really mean that?”

His eyes softened, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Of course I do”.

“We both mean it, I… I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted to be a Dad”, Steve admitted, kissing your temple and as you looked up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears which only made you smile and cry harder.

Steve made the move first, lowering his hand over your abdomen, resting over your stomach where there was no bump yet but knowing there was something growing inside you, he couldn’t help the relieved gasp. Bucky was quick to cover his hand and yours on the top so the three of you were feeling where the baby would be. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents!”

The next few days were a whirlwind of excitement and unimaginable joy whilst also still feeling relatively unwell, especially feeling more exhausted as you wanted to buy every pregnancy book and read them all but soon fell asleep with it open in your lap.

Then there was Steve and Bucky who could not contain their excitement, going above and beyond for you, especially with you still feeling ill. They would cook and feed you, if you were too tired, refill your glasses of water, constantly ask if you were comfortable and more than happy to fetch another pillow if needed. Not only this, but their levels of affection had increased massively, whispering their love for you at any opportunity, holding your hands, and lots of kisses, it was so nice to feel this level of love when going through such a life-changing experience.

Both of them had been just as motivated to read about pregnancy, birth, babies, and the whole lot from A to Z, they researched everything that was possible and then gave you the rundown on what your bodily changes would be including what you couldn’t eat, vowing to not eat the same items until you could which you didn’t seem necessary but appreciated the gesture.

Then there was the excitement of going to the Midwife’s appointment and it all became so much more real again, especially being able to book the ultrasound scan. This was where you found out that you were 8 weeks and 3 days and the entire world seemed to pause around the three of you as you watched your baby's tiny heartbeat on the screen.

To say you all cried was an understatement, all of you not taking your eyes off of the scan picture that was provided, the little bean was so tiny, only just being able to tell the outline of its arms and legs. Now it felt official. You, Steve and Bucky were going to have a baby.

Many things changed including protection that increased tenfold. Security around your home doubled and you had not only Sam Wilson as your bodyguard but also Natasha. Not only this but if you attending the business or in public, Steve and Bucky would crowd around you, almost like a human shield, their overprotective instincts on overdrive, even from people who were just at the check-outs in stores. Sam and Natasha were confused by the sudden dynamic intensity and it was hard to keep it all a secret but you had all decided to wait just a little while longer and continue with your unknown illness excuse just until the baby had grown a little bit bigger.

This was something else that you had to get used to with adjusting to the many bodily changes you were going through to adapt to growing this baby. A few days following the scan, you’d come downstairs to Steve cooking you scrambled eggs which were your usual favourite breakfast but as soon as you smelt those cooking eggs, you were gagging and rushing to the toilet, throwing up violently.

Your eyes were watering as you finally stopped emptying your stomach but still gagging as you could smell the lingering eggs in the air. A warm hand rubbed circles over your back, Steve’s apologetic voice came from behind you, “Sorry, baby. No more eggs”.

This was the first instance of vomiting and it wasn’t just eggs, as every single day you would be throwing up and then feeling extremely tired afterwards that you weren’t able to do much throughout the day but be with your head in the toilet or lying in bed. The boys were almost glued to your side during this time, worried that you weren’t keeping enough food or drinks down and even had to call Doctor Banner back just to check you weren’t too dehydrated.

Thankfully you hadn’t needed to go into hospital as your vomiting subsided but the nausea remained for a while.

“You sure she’s ok? She’s looking a little peaky,” Sam commented to Steve one day as he came to help guard the house and was having his lunch with you all but he took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right, even as you forced the sandwich into your mouth, making sure to still eat for you and baby… not that Sam knew about the baby.

“Yeah, she’s fine Sam, thanks for checking though and we appreciate the extra hours you’re doing”, Steve responded with a thankful grip on his friend's shoulder.

“It’s no problem man, just worried for her that’s all, don’t really understand what’s going on with you all, especially with the extra security and whatnot and I feel like I’ve hardly spoken to her for a few weeks now. Just want you to know I’m always here if you ever need anything”.

You felt guilty when Steve later told you what Sam had said, feeling bad that you were keeping it secret but it was only for a few more weeks.

Luckily, you had found the special trick to help your nausea as suggested by a friend: lavender! After sitting with a bag of dried lavender for a couple of hours and not feeling nauseous, Steve and Bucky were quick to fill the entire house with lavender-scented items including candles and sprays, even having some in the car and it helped to settle your nausea massively.

But, as soon as one symptom passed, another would be replacing the uncomfortable feeling. The next was your breasts becoming incredibly painful and sore, even if you accidentally knocked them when putting on a bra or rolling over in your sleep, it was agony. Your boyfriends were even more careful with you during this phase, getting ice to hold against them during particularly painful moments and being careful to give you enough room when asleep.

A couple of weeks later was the first day you noticed the little bean kicking, at first it felt like maybe gas, almost like there were butterflies fluttering in your tummy but then you finally realised what it was. The feeling grew stronger with each day as well as the size of your growing stomach which was something Steve and Bucky were going absolutely feral for. They would take pictures each week to show your progression and would constantly be placing their hands on your stomach, even if the bump wasn’t that noticeable just yet.

The midwife recommended talking to the baby at one point so every night, you would sit with a shirt off and Steve and Bucky would lie on either side of you, taking it in turns to tell stories, sing their favourite songs and lay sweet kisses along the growing bump. One day, Bucky was telling the little bean about the time he and Steve snuck into a movie theatre when the skin under his cheek poked out as the baby kicked him in the face. Bucky sat up with excitement, it being the first time he had properly felt the baby move as he cooed, “there's our strong baby, good job little bean!”

“You hit the right dad as well”, Steve joked causing Bucky to smack him in the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to Dad, listen to Pops, I’m right here to make everything’s ok”, Bucky continued to speak sweetly to your stomach.

Your heart swelled at the difference in names that he had seemed to pick, “is that what you’d like to be called?” you asked them both, stroking a finger across each of their cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath.

“It’s perfect”, Steve beamed, kissing your stomach again.

Now it was your 20-week scan, Baby was so much bigger, you couldn’t believe the difference those weeks had made since the last scan. Now it was really starting to look like a baby with longer limbs and you were even able to find out the gender, however, you had wanted to wait to find out, liking the thought of it being announced at the birth.

With these beautiful new prints of the scans, you finally wanted to tell people, beginning with your closest friends.

It was a casual lunchtime meal at the office. You sat at the large table in between Steve and Bucky, with Sam and Natasha sitting opposite, all idly talking and eating the take-out that Steve had bought. However you had opted for a different meal: 4 packs of salt and vinegar chips and a tub of tomatoes - both were your latest cravings.

Sam eyed your food wearily, “Interesting mix you’ve got there, boss lady?”

Your only response was smiling with your cheeks full of tomatoes as Bucky placed his hand over your thigh. You knew he wanted to put his hand on your stomach but you hadn’t told either of the people across the table just yet and even though your bump was starting to become noticeable now, you were trying to hide it behind baggy shirts but even that was becoming difficult. You were in desperate need of some new trousers as well as the button was digging into your skin as you shifted uncomfortably, looking at each of your boys, feeling antsy with excitement as well.

“Can we tell them? I really need to take off my trousers, I’m feeling really claustrophobic”.

Sam frowned at your random sentence, confused by what you meant however it was Natasha’s reaction that sparked your interest as she smirked, leaning back in her chair with a tilt of the head. You looked at her with a gaped-open mouth, pointing your finger at her, “You already know! Who told her?” you asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.

“Wasn’t me”, they both responded at the same time, holding up their hands as you eyed them both suspiciously.

Natasha leaned forward in her chair, “did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I’m offended Sugar, it’s in my job description to be observant. In fact, you should be asking if Sam is right to keep this job if he can’t notice something this obvious”, she teased the man sitting next to her who still looked just as confused as before.

You laugh at Sam’s reaction, looking to Steve who handed you the sealed cards. You happily took them, standing from your chair and feeling Bucky’s hand on your lower back to help and then walked around the table, giving them both a card each. It wasn’t anything special or elaborate, but it had a picture of the latest scan with the statement: “Update to your job title; bodyguard & uncle/auntie”.

You’d never heard the high-pitched tone from Sam ever before as he quickly stood, his chair squeaking across the floor as he shouted, “What?!” He turned to you, looking between you, the picture and Steve and Bucky, “Really?!”

You pulled the back of your shirt so the material was tight to your front, showing off your growing bump, grinning as he shouted “Congratulations!”, before pulling you into a huge hug, careful of your belly but rocking the two of you on the spot a few times and kissing your temple, “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle again!”

Sam was then pushed aside, giving room for Natasha, “Move it, Wilson, I want to meet my niece or nephew”, Sam didn’t mind being moved as he rushed around to embrace Steve and Bucky.

Natasha hugged you tightly, and you were able to ask, “How long have you known?”

“A couple of weeks, you aren’t as subtle as you think at hiding things. I mean, you’ve hardly been awake enough to have a conversation, this is the most lively I’ve seen you in nearly a month. And that's without the new obsessive protecting from Steve and Bucky, how they’re always touching you and the weird food you’re eating, it’s more noticeable than you think it is”. She pulls back to put her hands on your growing bump, “how many weeks are you?”

“20 weeks and 5 days, I can feel the little bean moving more with each day, I feel so big already and I’m not even showing that much considering I’m only halfway through my pregnancy”. Natasha grinned hearing this, looking at your little bump. “Now you both know, I can take off my pants without being judged”, you groaned as you undid your jeans button, utter relief when they were completely removed from your body and felt free, your shirt was long enough that it stopped mid-thigh so you weren’t too unmodest.

Bucky had snuck behind you, his arms wrapping around to rest on your stomach as he kissed your cheek. Natasha smiled watching the embrace as she remarked, “Guess you got what you wanted all along Barnes, now you can call her mama and she actually is one”.

“Mmm absolutely”, Bucky nuzzled into your neck, the sensation making you laugh as it tickled, turning to shy away from his attack but he only held you tighter until you melted into his arms.

Steve and Sam joined your little gathering and Sam jokingly asked, “So if the baby’s a boy, can we name him Sam?”

You were so thankful for the news being out, especially as this meant that you could go baby clothes shopping with Sam and Natasha, finding little outfits that you could surprise your boyfriends with. It was one of the only things you were able to do for them to show your appreciation as they did so much for you throughout your pregnancy.

Your cravings continued to become stronger with each day and often found yourself waking in the middle of the night to find something to quench the craving for something acidic and sour taste you needed so desperately it felt like your world was going to end if you didn’t eat it right then and there. On multiple occasions, Steve or Bucky would come downstairs in the early hours of the morning to find you sitting on the kitchen floor, your belly round and exposed, hating feeling material against your skin, and a scattering of different foods surrounding you, a happy smile on your face.

“You ok down there beautiful?” they would ask with grins that matched yours and with your heightened emotions you would be crying before long, reaching for them to come and sit with you which they would do eagerly, pulling your body in between there legs and kissing away your tears, “don’t cry pretty girl, I’ve got you”.

If you ever run out of your favourite cravings, they would drive to the store and you were buzzing to go along for the ride in the middle of the night, fully awake and ready for the night time adventure only to fall asleep before getting to the store.

Entering into the third trimester, your belly was round and heavy, things for sure were becoming more difficult for you as the little bean grew. There were small excitements still like attending antenatal classes with your boyfriends who were taking their role as dad and pops  very seriously, you’d never seen them concentrate so hard before.

“You’re doing the boss face again”, you whispered to Steve as he correctly wrapped the baby doll in a blanket. Steve's features softened immediately as he sheepishly looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m just trying to concentrate”, he mumbled, eyes returning to looking at the doll, his fingers trembling slightly as he continued wrapping steadily.

Reaching across you grabbed his hands, keeping your voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “I’m scared too, but you’re going to be a great dad, Steve, you’ll be ok”.

This was a little pep talk you needed to have with both Bucky and Steve on numerous occasions as they began panicking that this was actually happening and whilst you reminded them there was nothing they could do to take back the growing baby in your belly, it was ok to have nerves, but everything would come to them with time, they needed to stay strong, especially as you were also sort of beginning to lose it.

Your body was really changing to accommodate the growing little bean. Your hands and feet were swollen until your shoes couldn’t fit anymore and god…the heartburn was excruciating, and nearly as painful as the kicks to the ribs. There was never a moment where you weren’t out of breath, even standing to pour cereal into a bowl took all of your energy and you’d be sighing in relief as you sat down. Your hips hurt, your back was in agony, and the pregnancy fun had well and truly finished.

This was where the boys really shined through as they would massage your hands and feet, they would be more then happy to cook or grab anything for you, picking things off of the ground, finding clothes that might fit and then there were their compliments which was one thing keeping you going.

Steve and Bucky could not get enough of seeing you pregnant, “you’re glowing honey, pregnancy suits you so much, my love”. You never felt like you were glowing and would describe yourself instead as a huge, hungry, tired monster but the way the boys looked at you, put those negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

From the moment you woke up to the second sleep would invade your consciousness, they would remind you of their love, needing you to fully comprehend how much they appreciated you growing their baby, you were doing so much for them, putting your body through it, for all of you, for the little bean.

Their words definitely helped when you began to feel needier in more than one way as your hormones caused your arousal to be one-minute non-existence and the next feeling nearly overwhelmed with how badly you needed to touch them and be touched. Thankfully with how obsessed they were with you during your pregnancy, they were more than happy to deliver. Hands would be all over, their lips leaving words of affirmation against your warm skin, being careful not to be to rough and more than happy if you wanted to take control and do whatever you wanted to them.

You had to be honest and say you never felt more loved up before. Even with the gang still in full operation, they were able to look after you as their number one priority, even through your emotional breakdowns, or weird pregnancy habits that had you thinking you were slightly insane but they never judged once.

For example, towards the end of your pregnancy, you had a completely immense craving to chew on your bath sponge every time you sat in the large bathtub. So when one day Steve walked in with a freshly warmed-up towel and caught you mid-chew with staring eyes, you expected his reaction to being anything but a soft smile, “You having fun in there, baby?”

Pulling the sponge out of your mouth slowly you nervously answered, “I uh… I don’t really know how to explain…”

Steve held up a hand, “You don’t have to explain anything, whatever makes you happy and I think I’ve read in a book that sometimes pregnant women can have cravings like this, whatever makes you happy”.

As your due date closened, you sat in the centre of the large bed, watching Bucky shuffle his way through your clothes, trying to find the right things to pack for your hospital bag. “What about this?” he asked, holding up a pair of your normal jeans.

“They haven’t fit me in four months, Bucky”, you laughed, shaking your head. “I need pyjamas or baggy shirts, things that can be easily taken on and off, maybe you should just leave Steve to do it”, you suggested whilst holding out your arms.

Bucky shrugged, dropping the jeans and jumping onto the bed, making you squeal with the bed moving up and down before he had his hands against your bump, kissing the tip of your nose. “Not long until we meet you little bean”, he was rewarded with a kick against his metal palm that had you wincing. “Hello baby, I love feeling you kick so much but be gentle to Mama she’s doing such a good job with keeping you safe”, he leaned down to kiss your belly as your fingers delved into his hair.

“It’s ready!”, Steve shouted from another room, catching both of your attention. Bucky jumped up first and then helped you to stand, keeping his hand on your lower back as you wobbled to the spare room that Steve and Bucky had been decorating as the nursery. It was something you had left them in charge of organising, not having the energy over the last nine months to even think about decorating and Steve and Bucky were more than excited to take on the job and so far had kept it secret from your prying eyes.

As you looked around the room, tears swelled in your eyes instantly, reaching to hold onto Steve and Bucky, praising, “It’s perfect!”. There was a beautiful baby cot, pictures of the three of you surrounding the ultrasound scan photograph on the wall, a painting you knew Steve had done, and a rocking chair in the corner that Bucky had claimed as his for the night feeds he’d volunteered himself for.

Now it was all just a waiting game.

“You’re doing it again”, Bucky commented from where he stood in the entryway to your home having returned from the office a few days later.

“No, I’m not, I’m just cleaning-”.

“Nesting… You’re nesting, Doll”, Bucky reminded you, taking away the cloth from your hands and throwing it to the side so he could hold your shoulders and kiss your temple. “Go and rest, you’ve only got a few days left!”

You roll your eyes as you leaned into his warmth, your bump touching him first as you hugged around his chest, “Bucky most babies aren’t born on their due dates you know, I just want to make sure everything is perfect around the house and ready”.

“Everything IS perfect, please just rest”. You relented to him, feeling tired already from the ten minutes of standing, moving to sit on the couch when a period cramp suddenly began in your lower abdomen, causing you to scrunch your face up in pain, especially as it was followed by a large kick to the ribs.

“Woah, are you ok?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, probably Braxton hicks or something, it’s fine”, you say, finally sitting down and putting your feet on the small table. Bucky didn’t seem convinced and continued to be a mother hen throughout the rest of the night, even though the pains subsided after you had a nice warm bath.

As your due date came and went, you were becoming restless, needing the baby out, feeling overwhelmed with how big you felt, wanting to meet the baby and hating waiting around. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried everything either. Eating spicy foods, and going for walks, especially up and down the stairs which was incredibly uncomfortable with how low the little bean’s head was sitting in your pelvis. You’d even had sex a few times, Bucky was more than happy to hear that nipple stimulation could induce labour but still, nothing happened.

Those period cramps would come and go throughout these days as well, getting your hopes up before they disappeared and still, no signs that your labour was even happening. 

On the fourth day following your due date, you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to another period cramp that started in your lower back and spread around to your front. Even though this felt different,  you didn’t want to wake the boys and get theirs or your hopes up as you tried to slide out of bed without waking them to use the bathroom for what felt like the tenth time that night.

“You ok, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes still closed but his hand reached for you in the darkness.

“Yeah I’m, ok, go back to sleep Steve”, you encouraged, touching the back of his hand before pushing yourself up and waddling to the toilet, using it and then realising just how wide awake you were and the dull ache of the pains still lingered so you decided to run a warm bath. During the time that it was filling up, you had another pain which took longer to subside but this was always how it started with the intensity increasing but after the bath, it usually stopped. 

However, even as you let the warm water settle over your body, easing your muscles but the pains continued but at least the little bean was lovely and happy as he or she gave you a powerful kick to your ribs. The next pain had you gritting your teeth, eyes clenching closed as you held onto the side of the tub, waiting for it to pass but this pain lasted for nearly a full minute, and you decided maybe it was time to take some pain relief.

Standing and awkwardly climbing out of the bath, you dried your body and picked up your night dress to pull over your head when another pain came and took your breath away, your stomach hardening and causing you to moan lowly, bending over to blow the pain away.

“Honey?” Steve shouted from the bathroom having heard your moan as he waited for you to come back to bed. You couldn’t answer him as the pain consumed you, and he was rushing to be by your side, Bucky following closely behind him. Steve rubbed your back slowly as your pain finally began to ease so that you could look up at them both.

“Wow, that one was strong”.

“You ok? Can we get you anything?” Bucky asked, stepping forward with worry etched on his face.

“I’m ok.... I think… I don’t want to get my hopes up that this isn’t contractions but fuck, it hurt like hell”, you muttered, bending over to pick up your dress from the floor and then a trickle of clear liquid dripped down the inside of your leg. All three of you noticed as you tentatively looked up, “Is it bad that I can’t tell if I’ve just wet myself or if that’s my waters…”.

Neither of your worried boyfriends had time to answer as another painful wave came and had you doubling over, leaning your head against the sink. Steve was quick to grab you and let you lean against his strong body, remembering what he had learned from the antenatal appointments to help you through the pains, “That’s it baby, breath in and out, nice and slow”. It helped to listen and ground yourself through the pain as Bucky’s cold metal hand rubbed against your lower back, helping to ease the intense pressure from the baby.

The pain lasted for the same amount of time as the previous one and the clear liquid, which was definitely not urine, had gushed out more, forming a small puddle onto the floor. “Ok, I think it’s time we call someone”, you decided.

Bucky kissed the back of your head as he ran to get the phone and Steve helped you to pull your shirt on, his thumb brushing your chin as he sensed your anxieties, “You’re going to do amazing my love, we’ll be with you every step of the way”.

[eat-limes-bitches]

Hell Hath No Fury Like A Farmer Socrned

PAIRING: Female Rancher! Reader x Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: When his lover is snatched from her ranch, everyone better watch out, and not for the reason they all thought.

WARNINGS: Cannon-level violence, mentions of blood, fighting etc.

Word Count: 1284

A/N: Wow here we are! My first AU! I had this idea while I was a work the other day and thought it was funny. Sorry if it is not that coherent but I tried. If you guys want to see more of this pairing send me some ideas! I'd love to try some more of these two!

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

James Bucky Barnes was known for many things, brilliant, cold, ruthless, fierce ruler of the Brooklyn mafia, amongst many other things. One thing he was not known for was his cool temperament when someone he cared for was in danger which is why his two most trusted men, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson hesitated outside of their boss's office door, not sure how they would break the news. After sucking a deep breath, the pair walked into the room. Bucky sat at his sturdy redwood desk, feet propped up as he leaned back in his lavish office chair. His gaze snapped from the contract to his men standing in the doorway before returning to the papers in his hand as he spoke.

“How may I help you, gentleman?” His deep voice reverberated across the room.

“They’ve got her, boss,” Sam stated evenly, ice dancing across each word. Bucky was on his feet in an instant, staring down the mean in front of him.

“What?” He hissed, any other person in his company would have shivered at the venom lashing out of his words, but it just caused Steve to sigh looking his boss, his dear friend in the eyes.

“They got Y/n at the farm this morning. They just sent in a live video feed that Stark has pulled up in the conference room no-”

Before the words could finish leaving Steve’s mouth, Bucky was shoving past them and all but running down the hall to the conference room. He burst into the room to see Tony messing with the camera feed while the rest of his most trusted men sat around the table, staring at Bucky waiting for his reaction. Bucky walked over to his chair placing his hands on the back of it as he stared at the screen playing the live video feed of Y/n sitting there, tied to a chair with some plastic-coated twine, no doubt from the truck she was in earlier that morning.

Bucky’s eyes traced over her frame, looking for any injuries. If there was so much a hair out of place he thought as his ringed fingers gripped the plush material even harder, causing his knuckles to turn white. As he continued his assessment he landed on her face and it was then that he sucked in a breath, taking notice of how her once soft lips were now busted up and the small gash across the bridge of her nose. What caused him to let out a breath was the overall look on her face. She was livid. Her jaw clenched tightly, her once sparkling eyes dark with fury, he could practically see the rage pouring off of her. Evidently, the guards standing on either side of her took notice as they began to shift uncomfortably.

She's going to be fine. Bucky thinks to himself as he lets out a small sigh of relief.

Bucky pulled out his chair and sat down calmly, catching everyone in the room, including Steve and Sam who had joined the room just a few moments ago, off guard. He cocked his head sideways,

“Will you let them know that we are all present Stark? That seems to be what they are waiting on.” He spoke, his tone even and calm causing everyone to share looks as Tony patched in the audio.

“Afternoon Barnes.” A voice called out as a figure walked around from behind the camera revealing Brock Rumalow, the leader of the rival mob who had been fighting with the Barnes Corp. For many years.

“Looks like you are starting to slack, she was an easy grab.” Rumalow sneered as he approached Y/n, walking around her chair as he ran his hand up her arm and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck causing an even more crossed look to appear on her face.

“Such a shame, I don’t understand why you would let such a pretty little thing out of your sight.”

The atmosphere in the conference room was tense. Everyone knew about the sweet little cattle rancher Bucky fell in love with many months ago. He had finally brought her around during the Christmas party last month where she was loved by everyone who was able to talk with her. However, she was new to this world, his world and so everyone was worried about her the moment they heard she was taken, but watching her now, she didn’t seem the least bit scared, more annoyed than anything, causing confusion to ripple through the air, but no questions were asked as Rumalow continued speaking,

“I believe she has a few things to say to you, James.” He crowed walking away from Y/n with a pat on her cheek, returning to his position behind the camera while she let out a loud huff.

“Yeah, I got some things to say alright. If you aint here in the next hour, I’m gonna be walking home myself. I got a mare due any day now and these asswipes didn’t bother to close the cattle gate after they got me so now all the cattle are probably running amuck stressing out poor Parker.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, only Y/n would be worried about her poor farm hand while she sat tied down to a chair by her boyfriend's rival gang.

“I got the location of the camera Buck,” Tony calls out from behind the computer, “It’s only a few blocks away, in that old warehouse on the junction of 5th Avenue and Bakers Street.”

Bucky brushed invisible dust off his pants and started to speak when there was a large commotion coming from the video feed.

Everyone watched in pure shock as Y/n snapped the twine holding her in place, jumping up and kicking a chair at one guard and wrapping the now wrecked twine around the other's neck yanking him down to the ground, his skull hitting the floor with a sickening crack.

Once the guards were dispatched, Y/n glanced to her left before darting off in that direction, the shock of her escape must have finally worn off of Rumalow because everyone, except for Bucky, jumped to their feet as gunshots began ringing out behind the field of view of the camera. There is a loud metallic “thwang!” before Y/n returned to view, holding an old shovel with a small smattering of blood on it and an even more disgruntled look on her face as she examines her once clean cream and blue plaid shirt that was now ruined by a few small patches of blood.

Bucky smiles as he hears a few curses leave her mouth along with a “I just got the blood out of this shirt”.

Y/n then walks up to the camera, letting out a huff as she picks it up and starts making her way towards the side exit. She glances down at the camera before she starts speaking,

“By the looks of it, you have 45 minutes to get here before I start walking, which believe me you do not want me doing that. ‘Cause I swear to God and all that is holy James Buchannan Barnes if that foal is on the ground by the time I get back I’m whooping your and everyone else in that room's asses.”

Bucky chuckles and stands up looking at Sam and Steve as he motions for them to come with him to the garage to pick up Y/n.

“It looks like she had them after all.” Bucky muses as they enter the elevator. The other men nod in agreement as Sam then says, “Remind me to never piss her off.”

[lady-djarin]

apple pie

bucky barnes x f!reader (one shot)

warnings: soft!bucky, longing, flirting, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, doll), p in v sex (unprotected- wrap it up y’all), fingering, praise, choking, 18+ minors dni GO AWAY YOUNGLINGS

word count: 4.7K

a/n: heyyy so i finally did it! after way to long here she is. this is not edited very much at all so i apologize but i don’t completely hate it and it fills the hole in my heart that is reserved for bucky <3 enjoy!

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Growing up in your small town of Delacroix, Louisiana, everybody knew everybody. One of your good friends growing up was Sarah Wilson. Everyone knew the Wilson’s. especially when Sam became an Avenger. You were born in the city and loved it; the small fishing port, friendly people and small town America feel it had. You worked at one of the oldest diners in town that almost everyone was a regular at. Your uncle owned the place so you helped out when you had the free time. Nothing too exciting ever happened in your sleepy little corner of the south, not until Sam came back to town that is.

The whole town had been buzzing about Sam's return home and all the good work he had done as an Avenger. Sarah had also told you about the “broodingly handsome” friend he had brought home with him. She said that Sam and his friend ‘Bucky’ had been working on the boat constantly, trying to get it up and running. They had stopped in a few times here and there to get lunch or pick up dinner for the whole family but never stayed long enough to talk. There were some moments where you caught the mysterious man looking your way but brushed it off as nothing important. You did agree with Sarah, Bucky was handsome but you figured he’d probably be leaving sometime soon to go save the world or whatever it is that Avengers do.

On Sunday nights you always stayed late to make your signature apple pie for the week to sell at the diner. Everyone had gone home for the night and you were left to finish baking the last pie. You were sitting behind the diner counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when the soft jingle of the front door broke you out of your haze.

“Miss apple pie!” Sam's voice was always a cause to make you smile. You were like brother and sister and you had endless good memories growing up with him.

You looked up and your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met that of the dark haired man beside Sam. You hadn’t thought much of him before, he was attractive, sure but not until now did you really feel anything for the man. His hair was messy, just slightly from working on the boat all day and his white shirt was now covered in grease. He looked rugged and tough in an almost perfect way. His blue eyes stood out under his dark eyebrows, they almost glowed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hey you two, come sit down, I just finished making some.” The two tall men sat in front of you, plopping down with a sigh. Bucky rubbed his right shoulder with his left arm and a glint of metal caught your attention, peeking through the end of his sleeve under his glove. You wondered why he wore the glove but never asked, in fear of offending him. You served the boys their slices of pie and watched as they dug in. You loved making food for people, especially baked goods. Watching people enjoy your hard work filled your chest with pride. The three of you ate and talked for a while until your last pie was done in the oven.

“So, what are you still doing in this small town? I always thought you would get out of here and write a book, or do something amazing,” Sam asked as he wiped his mouth where crumbs of pie crust had fallen.

“Well, you know how it is, my family needed me. Plus where would I go? I don't really have anywhere else to go,” you sighed, placing the now done pies in the fridge, ready for the week.

“You could go anywhere, the world is a large place,” Bucky finally spoke up, otherwise quiet until now. You stared at him, kind of in shock, hearing something coming from his lips.

“I guess that's true...” his icy gaze captured yours, making you unable to look away. A sharp ringtone broke through the silence, causing you to lose your focus on the man in front of you.

“Hi Sarah, I-- yes, I’m on my--- Ok! Ok! I'll be right there, bye,” Sam hung up the phone as he rubbed his forehead. “Sorry guys, I promised Sarah I’d help the boys with their homework,” he shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his plate to help clean.

“No no, don’t worry about it. You guys go, I'll clean,” you took the plates from both men and turned to put them in the sink.

Bucky finally spoke up again. “I’ll stay and help you clean, I'll meet you at home later Sam,” he grabbed the rest of the dirty dishes and pie tins before rounding the counter. Sam said his goodbyes before rushing out the door, mumbling about being late. The two of you spent some time cleaning and making small talk, he told you about how he met Sam through a mutual friend, who just so happened to be Captain America. So naturally you questioned him about that as much as he would allow, until the entire diner was clean. Soon you both realized how late it was and started to head out.

“Thank you for helping, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, considering Sam dined and dashed,” you laughed at the thought of him being yelled at by Sarah over the phone. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh I didn't drive, I only live a few blocks away so I walk,” you motioned down the street, intending to walk alone.

“Well I'm not going to let a pretty lady like you walk home alone,” he stepped closer, eyes lidded and glued to your lips. “Especially looking as sweet as you do,” his hand snaked its way up to your face and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. He held it up to the light to see a spot of powdered sugar on his thumb.

You were about to say how embarrassing it was that you had it on your face all evening but you had a feeling he did that on purpose when he stuck his thumb into his mouth. He relished the taste on his tongue and the almost imperceivable sound that came from his throat made your chest tighten. He smiled that sweet smile like he didn't just do… that, and he stuck his elbow out to escort you down the sidewalk.

The tone of your conversation had definitely shifted towards flirty while walking back to your apartment. He rested his gloved hand on top of yours, a soft yet strong gesture, telling you he would protect you if need be. The two of you walked side by side, getting to know each other with mindless small talk. He didn't talk much, mostly asking about you but he always looked like you were telling him the most interesting thing in the world. Finally you reached your apartment building, though you tried to walk slowly, because of how much you enjoyed his company.

“Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, James,” he told you his full name, although now he regrets it.

“Please, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh are we friends... Bucky?” You took a chance and stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. Testing the waters, you put your hand on his chest, right next to his shoulder. Under his shirt you could feel something hard right near the top of his peck. You kind of toyed with the seam of it under your fingers without trying to draw your eyes to the area.

“It's metal,” he had kind of a lost, sad look in his eye.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to–” you withdrew from him now, feeling awkward at the confession. You could see the hurt in his eyes from the memories that must be playing in his mind. Sam had told you some of the awful things he went through in the service so you can't imagine what Bucky had gone through.

“It's alright, have a good night, doll,” his soft lips gently kissed the apple of your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

Doll. Doll?

Usually you hated cheesy nicknames that men used to make women feel smaller, but coming from his lips, oh lord did it sound nice. The tall man stood watch as you made your way into your apartment building, one last wave before seeing you disappear into the elevator. He would never admit it, but his heart was in his throat the entire time he was with you.

------

“Nothing happened Sam. I walked her home, that's all,” Bucky threw his hands up in defense, neglecting to tell Sam about the kiss on the cheek.

“That's all that better have happened. She's like a sister to me,” Sam was always protective of you, even against his best friend.

“Don't worry Sammy, nothing happened… yet,” he mumbled the last word as he turned away, not letting his friend hear his true intentions.

He would never tell Sam, but he was already over the moon for you, even after only a few interactions. The small smile on your face whenever he spoke, the adorable way you froze when he wiped the sugar off your lip. He had been wanting to do that all night and he was so glad he finally got the courage.

“Buck, I swear, if you so much as think about it–”

“Oh come on, relax! I won’t!”

The two men were standing in the kitchen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. As Sam walked past his friend to go to bed, he whispered to his friend, “Be nice to her, ok? She's like a sister.”

“Will do, Wilson.”

—--

You were cleaning up the diner after closing, tired and sticky from a long day, ready to go home. You had the radio on louder than usual to motivate the cleaning process, unaware of the door jingle you danced your way around the floor, broom in hand. You spun around a corner to head towards the front and finish sweeping when you collided with a solid chest. A small scream lept from your throat when large hands turned you around to face the most beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh Bucky! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry doll, just wanted to see if you need a walk home?” His eyes sparkled when he saw your face, a wide smile to go with them.

“I would love that! Let me put this stuff away, give me a minute.”

You put the cleaning supplies away and turned off the lights and radio while Bucky sat at the same barstool the night you met him. When you were done you gathered up your belongings and Bucky walked you out as you locked the door. He offered his elbow just like the last time.

Such a gentleman.

“So, how was your day?” His voice was deeper than usual.

“Oh you know, the usual. Busy.”

You made small talk the whole way home, like you had known each other forever. By the time you got to your building neither of you wanted it to end.

“Hey… do you want to come in for a beer?” You weren't sure how he would perceive it but with how comfortable he seemed with you, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

“I’d love to.”

The two of you walked up to your apartment and settled into your place like you had done it a dozen times. You opened a beer for the both of you and sat on the couch, close enough to make you want to reach out and touch him. Of course Bucky was an attractive guy and the chemistry was electric, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

After the conversation became comfortable and more than a few beers were empty, you felt bold.

“So…Bucky…” You were still nervous to ask.

“Yes, doll?”

“Can I ask you something…personal?”

You could see the slight change in his demeanor, the anxiety in his face.

“Anything.”

“What happened to your arm?” You could feel your heartbeat out of your chest as your voice shook.

There was a static silence, something shifted in him and you could see it.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It-it’s none of my business… I’m sorry.” you got up and collected the empty bottles, heading to the kitchen when his voice froze you.

“It was the war…” he sounded distant. Like he was in that memory again.

“Bucky, please its ok, I'm sorry i ask–”

“No I… I want to tell you. It was a mission, I thought I was dead...”

You couldn't bear to hear anymore, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn't know how to react at first but he slowly slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you into him. He held you like you were a lifeline, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry Bucky… you didn't deserve this.”

He breathed deep, like he was holding back a sob. You rubbed your hands up and down his back, soothing him while he steadied his breathing again. He pulled away from you just enough to bring his face to yours, his breath fanned across your lips. You looked into each other's eyes, you could feel the mood change. Something was different.

He slid his gloved hand up your arm until it cradled your cheek, the leather feeling foreign on your skin. You put your hand over the glove, pulling it down to your face. Slowly turning over his hand you undid the strap on the top of his glove. Pulling the glove off, revealing a dark gray metal in place of fingers. There were intricate gold details woven through the thin plates of metal.

“Oh my god…”

“I know it's–” he tried to pull his hand away.

“It's beautiful.” You were in shock, it was like he was made of midnight sky with gold stars flying across it.

He was stunned to say the least, unsure of how to respond. Instead, he placed his steel hand on your cheek again. You thought it would be cold, unfeeling. It was quite the opposite, it felt as alive as him.

You turned your head to kiss the inside of his palm, trailing your lips down to the inside of his wrist. You could hear a small hum from his chest, an approval.

That made you want to test the waters.

You put his hand back on your face, moving your face closer to him. You couldn't lie, you wanted to see what his arm looked like, actually, all of him. You slid your hand from his wrist up to his bicep and felt the lines of metal under the cotton shirt clinging to his body. He jolted in surprise but didn’t move away from you as you ran your fingers over the curves of muscle on his arms.

You could still see some hesitation in his beautiful eyes, telling you not many other people might have seen as much of him. You wanted to show him this wasn't some meaningless fling to you, you understood the gravity of this for him.

“James…” He smirked at the formality. “You can tell me to stop.”

The thought never came to him. Instead of putting it into words, he hauled you into his seated lap. The motion pleasantly surprised you, you were glad he took charge and made the decision. You could feel the hardness under your thighs, making it seem like all of him was made of metal. The slightest roll of your hips made him groan from deep in his chest.

“Baby I-” The nickname slipped off his tongue so naturally you almost missed it. “I haven't, uhh, you know– it's been a while.”

“Hey, it's ok. Me too,” you laughed at yourself. Dating in a small town is hard, especially when you know everyone and everyone knows you. You were still moving in his lap, almost undetectable, but enough to make his length harden.

You couldn't tell but he was losing his grip, trying to hold back and not rush you either. You had him mesmerized, lost in your eyes and his hands on your hips that were moving against him. He wanted nothing more than to touch every inch and taste just as much. You were lazily kissing, neither one wanted to break the spell.

His lips were soft like silk and he smelled like smoke and motor oil. The thought of him working on that boat with Sam made your thighs clench. You could imagine him bare chested and sweaty out in the Louisiana sun. You intertwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to draw him closer. The motion sealed your lips together further and his tongue danced across yours as his hands roamed your body. He caressed and squeezed every curve he could find, leaving you breathless.

You needed more.

You wanted to taste him.

You kissed your way down his neck and clothed chest all while trying to remove his shirt. You slid down on your knees between his thighs and looked up at him with bated breath. He didn't object to your action and you took it as a sign to continue. You worked the button and zipper open on his jeans and he moved his hips out of the confining fabric. His hard length was tenting his underwear and your mouth practically watered at the sight. Your hands on his thighs slid closer to the waistband of his boxers, pulling the fabric slightly. You peppered little kisses and small bites along all his clothed skin, watching him get visibly harder.

“Oh fuck baby…” his voice was dark and soothing. He was holding back for your sake, letting you do what you want but he was slowly starting to slip.

You finally removed the remaining clothing around his hips and motioned for him to remove his shirt. The muscles on his chest strained with the effort and before he leaned back again you were on him. You wrapped your mouth around the head dripping with precum before he even saw you do it.

“Shit–” His hands flew into your hair to hold you just like that and he relaxed into the couch. Your mouth worked him the best you could but he wasn't a small guy by any standard. Your eyes watered when you took him all the way, your nose hitting the curls at the base of him. He groaned at the warmth of your mouth and knew he wouldn't last long. You bobbed your head up and down while his large hand gripped your hair, pulling just hard enough to feel good. You knew you were dripping, ruining your underwear but you didn't care. All you wanted was to hear this man moan your name for as long as he’d allow. Your name came in broken moans as he chased his high.

Bucky was getting carried away, he should be the one pleasing you not the other way around, he thought. But when you slid your tongue up the vein running along him, he was powerless to stop you. He almost felt guilty for it but couldn't bring himself to make you stop, you felt too good.

The salty taste of precum told you he was close, painfully close, so naturally… you slowed down. You were torturing him a little bit but having this powerful super soldier in the palm of your hand was just too good. You could see the almost painful look in his face when he looked down at you, urging you to touch him.

“James… I need you.”

His name, those three words, it sent him tumbling over that edge of control. He extended his hand to help you up and before you could get your bearings he pulled you down to fall onto the couch. So there you were, face down in the pillow with your fully clothed ass in his face. He pulled the band of your soft pants down your hips, along with your underwear, fully exposing you. The cool air of the room brushed your skin as he moved behind you. His hands were steady as they moved across the skin of your ass. You were dripping no doubt. The slick feeling was making you blush, Bucky hadn’t even really touched you yet and you were practically putty in his hands.

Your heart was thundering in your chest knowing he was staring at you, probably deciding what to do. After a brief moment he pulled you up against his chest, one hand on your chest over your shirt and the other sneaking up under the hem of the fabric.

“Jesus, you…” he nuzzled his nose into the hair draped over your neck. “You're so soft.”

He ran his hands under your top and pulled the thin bra over your hardening nipples. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the pebbled skin and you unclasped the band of your bra and pulled off your top to let him have full access to all of you. His touch was so soft and sweet, it made you even wetter. You had a feeling he was holding back because he was afraid to hurt you.

Oh, if he only knew.

“Please, Bucky… I-I want you. All of you.” your voice was so small that you barely heard it.

“What baby? What do you need?”

You clenched around nothing hearing his voice, whining a response not able to form words. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hard length against your soft backside. His voice echoed in your ear, almost like a low growl from his chest.

“I– p-please…” You were delirious. And his roaming hands were not helping.

His lips were just as curious as his hands. His tongue was tracing the strong pulse in your neck all the way up to your ear. He sucked on the sensitive skin behind your ear and you rolled your head back to accommodate him. You couldn't help how your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled your hair back to keep your neck exposed. His fingers were tangled in your hair, he completely controlled where your head was. You moaned as he continued to lick and nip at your neck and slowly inched his metal fingers toward your slick center.

The dark metal was biting in a good way, harder than flesh but still comforting to the touch. The gold glinted off the low light in the room, catching your eye. Your gaze followed his fingers as they spread the wetness around your clit. You moaned as he sped up his movements until you were a painting mess, his arms the only thing holding you up.

“Oh f-fuck… mmm Ja–James…” You whined when he pushed his middle two fingers into your heat. Your hips ground onto his hand, the metal smooth yet the grooves in the design made you dizzy as your sensitive bundle of nerves ground into the heel of his hand. You were seeing stars and were quickly barreling toward a release. His chest pressed against your back let you feel his climbing heartbeat and rapid breathing.

Just as you felt a warmth start to spread in your lower stomach, he pulled his expert fingers away. You slumped against the loss and moaned in protest.

“I need to see your face when you cum.”

He swallowed your moan and shifted you to lay on your back, ever so softly. Ever the gentleman. Your heart swelled. Before you had a chance to register, his massive arms opened your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest. His grip was strong enough to bruise and you hoped it did. He ran his metal fingers over your soft folds, through your slick and hummed as he licked it off.

“Mhmm, sweet as apple pie.” He gave you that devastatingly brilliant smirk that just made you melt.

You hummed as he rubbed his tip through your folds, his chest exhaling above your face. He locked eyes with you as he guided his length into your swollen pussy. You practically purred as he bottomed out inside you. It was like liquid ecstasy was running through your veins, something you never experienced before.

“Jesus Christ, look at you doll.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged out of him, across gravel. The sound made you clench around him. “Y’look so pretty like this…” his words were almost slurred, like he was drunk on you.

And if he was honest with himself; he was drunk on you. This was a new feeling, entirely its own. It felt like his body was reacting to yours in some indescribable way. As he rocked into you, the only sounds were of your quiet moans and breaths, your noises spurring him on more.

“L-let me hear you baby… talk t– talk to me.”

“James… oh my– my god, you feel so…so good.” You clung onto his arms as they framed your head. You turned toward his mechanic arm, your lips meeting his thumb. You licked the digit, wanting to feel the metal in your mouth. He must have noticed your unconscious movements because he adjusted his arm and cupped his hand around your jaw, the thumb teasing your bottom lip. His hips never lost their rhythm as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. You moaned and sucked on his finger and his grip tightened on your face and eventually slid to your neck.

You couldn’t help the small smile that broke on your lips. You knew he saw it, and that he knew what it meant. The metal digits tightened around your throat, just enough to send stars across your vision.

“Oh fuck… you’re so fu— fucking tight. You— you like that don’t you? You like my hand around your throat?”

He was picking up the pace now. Whether he meant to or not his hips were slamming into you much harder now, every thrust causing his grip to tighten on your neck. The lewd noise of him moving inside you was ringing in your ears, the loss of blood flow made you dizzy. But you think you might just die if he stopped.

He kept his Vibranium hand on your pulse while he sat back and reached between you. For a moment you thought he was going to stop but when his fingers found your sensitive clit, you gasped at the feeling. He knew just how to fill your veins with fire, set your whole body ablaze. As he expertly circled your bundle of nerves you could feel his significant size swell inside you. You knew he was close.

“Bu— Bucky… please…” your words were long and drawn out. You were teetering on the edge now, practically vibrating with your pent up release. You needed one thing, one small thing to send you over that edge.

And he was that one thing.

“Fuck— where?”

You knew his release was going to be your salvation. You wrapped your legs around his hips, sealing him to you, telling him to empty inside you. Your walls clamped down on him, wringing him dry as he came and practically whined in your ear. He never stopped his movements on your clit. Feeling him finish inside you was all you needed to scream his name as the fire in your veins exploded. You came harder than you ever have before, like nothing you ever experienced.

You both could do nothing but lay there as your bodies recovered. Bucky stroked your arm and hummed as you nuzzled into him.

“Shower?” his chest rumbled with the words.

“Only if I can come with.”

“Deal.”

He kissed you all the way to the bathroom and didn’t let you lift a finger while he turned on the shower and made sure there were towels for both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect of the mysterious soldier but, boy you were not disappointed.

Sadly, you had a feeling deep in your stomach that he wouldn’t be around long. I mean, who can expect a superhero to stick around for very long when there is a whole word to save.

But damn it if you weren’t going to enjoy it while it lasted.

[levans44]

who you gonna call when it gets dark?

pairing: steve rogers x agent!reader

summary: His conviction in permanence has been scrubbed raw like wood against sandpaper—loss turned into anger turned into despair, eventually whittled down into disappointment. You’re one of the last threads holding it together. 

One more brush, one more stroke—and he’d be gone.

warnings: heavy angst, hurt/comfort, pain, mild description of injury/blood, slow build, inside the tortured mind™ of steven grant rogers

word count: 3.4k

a/n: pt. 3 of my mini series: what's it gonna take?, but this can be read as a stand-alone piece. title by FINNEAS

06:48

It’s safe to say that Steve doesn’t get a lick of sleep, playing back the images of you in the gym like a sick refrain: struggling beneath his grip, straddling his chest, stepping over him—hell, nearly stepping on him—to get across.  

So when he trudges into the communal kitchen the next morning, looking like he hasn’t slept in a century, the others take immediate notice.

“Woah, Steve, you alright man? You look like death.” Sam blurts out, never one to mince his words.

He barely registers Sam’s face, eyes glazing past where he’s sat next to Bucky on the kitchen island. 

But there’s no missing you. 

Perched on the other end of the counter, legs crossed under an oversized band tee, sipping from a glass of bright orange juice. You smirk knowingly over the rim, as if you know exactly why he’s got bags under his eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Captain Muscle’s been burning the midnight oil, gettin' his reps in.” Natasha teases by the coffee machine, arms crossed, mug in hand.

“Damn, Steve,” Sam pipes up, “you getting laid, man?”

And just like that, he’s feeling a little more alert, pivoting to shoot Sam a look. 

“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” Sam grins, arms raised defensively. “You gotta work off that energy somehow. When’s the last time you brought a girl back here?”

Amused by the very idea, he chuckles, shaking his head as he continues his weary march toward the fridge. 

“Here? Never.”      

The clink of bottles echoes as he opens the steel door, itching for something cold.

From behind, Sam persists: “Ah, but you did somewhere, huh?”

He chooses to ignore him, grabbing a bottle of water instead. Takes a long, slow swig, feeling it cool him down from the inside. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that you’re still sitting there, out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be absorbed in your phone. As if he doesn’t know you’re locked in on every word.

“I’m telling you, man.” Sam leans back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. “Online dating’s where it’s at. One word that you’re an Avenger, and these girls are sending you all kinds of—”

“—careful, Wilson.” Natasha interrupts, a crimson-polished fingertip pointing in your direction. “There’s children present.”

Your head lifts from your phone at that, and as all the attention shifts over to you, you let out a small huff, flashing a sarcastic grin in Nat’s direction before slipping off the counter. Steve takes it as opportunity to look too, and silently wonders if you’re still a little bothered by the offhand comments about your age.

From beside him, Sam groans, turning to you with renewed interest.

“Oh c’mon, she’s plenty grown. Hey, Ace, lemme ask you something.”

You glance over on your way to the sink, setting your empty glass down before swiveling around, hand on your hip.

“Sam.” Steve mutters a sideways warning, trying not to appear invested. Yet, the soft crinkle of his water bottle betrays him, his grip tightening around the flimsy plastic.

When his eyes flicker back to you, you’re still watching.

“Say you’re scrolling on tinder and you come across Captain America. Would you swipe right?”

Steve’s stomach drops, breath hitching in his throat.

“Don’t answer that.” He mutters, raising an eyebrow at you. And he immediately regrets saying anything, because his voice completely misses the casual air he intended, coming out like a strained command instead. If he had any chance of playing the nonchalant card to begin with, it certainly wasn’t an option now. 

And Steve isn’t the type to hate anyone. 

But in this moment, he thinks he might just hate you—standing there with your knowing smile, as if you’d waited your whole life to answer that question.

“Hmm. I don’t know…” 

He can practically taste the satisfaction on his tongue when your eyes land back on him, observing the way he stares. Slowly sucks in your bottom lip, letting it go with a soft ‘pop’ before you flash a devilish grin.

With your gaze still locked on him, you shrug:

“…personally? I’m more of a Winter Soldier girl.”

The silence that follows is sharp. Sam bursts out laughing. Bucky gives you a sidelong glance, clearly amused but playing along.

"When did I get roped into this?”

Yet, your gaze lingers on him, stretching the moment just a fraction longer, savoring the details of his expression. He notes the soft flicker of your eyes, darting between his with a quiet intensity, as though you're searching for something he can’t quite place. 

And the stunned look on his face must have been all the answer you needed, because the next moment, you’re promptly turning on your heels and exiting the kitchen, leaving him staring after you.

“So you and Ace, huh, Bucky? How long has that been a thing?”  

“Shut up, Wilson.”  

As the noisy banter fades into static, all he can comprehend is the pounding in his ears, and the look in your eyes when you had answered Sam’s question.  

Did you find it? What you were looking for?

And when his mind eventually comes to, he realizes the water bottle in his hand’s been reduced to a shriveled-up heap of plastic. He stares down at the bottom half of his shirt—soaked through and clinging sticky-cold against his skin—and sighs. 

21:27

“Negative, Fury. We’re boxed in, asset’s KIA. We have to pull back. Now.”

In his line of work, they’ve got all kinds of slang for situations like this—Charlie Foxtrot, FUBAR, SNAFU. 

Or, to put it bluntly, a real goddamn mess.

Minimal gear, no real prep, just a routine asset extraction in a neutral zone.  

Less than ten minutes after touchdown, they’re ambushed in the middle of a crowded market, surrounded by enemy forces with no escape route. A nearby apartment building reduced to ruins by a stray grenade, hundreds of civilians on the ground caught in the crossfire.  

They’ve barely scraped by with their own lives intact, but it doesn’t matter.

It’s the kind of loss where the ride back home is deafeningly silent, the air hanging thick and heavy over the cabin.

You take it the hardest, running point on the job. 

Steve knows from experience that there’s nothing more to be done. No point in mourning any alternatives. 

But when you yank your earpiece out and haul it at the ground, a sharp crack piercing the silence before the plastic skitters across the floor, he knows a million different scenarios are running through your mind right now.

The kind of spiraling that never ends.

Even Sam, with all his years of counseling, can’t seem to reach you, his words hushed and careful as he approaches you in the back corner of the cabin. You remain motionless, slumped in your seat like a wounded animal too tired to flee.

When the Quinjet touches down, you’re the first one out, sprinting across the tarmac before the ramp can fully lower. It’s a blur—your boots pounding against the metal, the cold air rushing past him. He watches a trail of dust flare in your wake. Maybe blood. He can’t tell.

It’s not too late to catch up to you, but he remains motionless, eyes lingering on the small limp in your step as you disappear inside the building. Then, with a heavy roll of his shoulders, he turns his attention to the grim task behind him, helping the medical staff carry the most severe injuries off the jet. 

22:51

38 civilian casualties. 2 agents in critical condition. Estimated $14 million in damages. 

Steve’s pacing by the exit to the recovery room, hands gripping the edge of a tablet, eyes fixed on the damage assessment flickering across the screen. But his mind’s somewhere far off. 

“You alright?”

Bucky’s voice cuts through the noise—he’s observing from one of the treatment beds nearby, holding pressure against a shallow bullet wound. 

Steve doesn’t have to answer.

He sighs, feeling the weight of his friend’s gaze as he goes to set the tablet down, feet already pointed toward the door. 

“I’ll be back.”

23:19

The halls of the compound feel long. Empty. 

His combat boots drag like chains, scuffing the pristine linoleum with dark streaks. They halt in front of your door, and his bloodied knuckles tremble as they hover, inches from the metal. Over the ridges of his bone-white fists, the smaller cuts are already knitting themselves back together. 

He stays suspended there, breath hitching in his chest, before exhaling and landing two sharp knocks.

Radio silence.

But then again, not really. Not when his enhanced hearing picks up the faint rustling from inside. 

He calls your name, softly. Then again, a little louder.

The third time provokes a response. 

“Go away.” Your voice is muffled but sharp, the kind of tone that brooks no argument.

He’s not in the mood to argue either, but he reaches for the door and steps inside anyway.

His eyes find you immediately, the dark outline of your silhouette curled up on the edge of the couch—knees drawn tight, shoulders hunched like you’re trying to fold in on yourself. A lamp in the far corner casts a muted glow, stretching your shadow long and sinuous across the wall.

The rest of the room is barely lit, though there’s not much else to see. Identical to his own—bed, dresser, sofa, tv. If he were playing ‘spot the difference,’ he’d point to the quilted beige throw hanging off the back of your couch, though most of it’s obscured behind your frame.

You’ve got your own place outside the compound—somewhere in the city, he recalls—yet you choose to spend most of your nights here, ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

Plus, Tony’s got free HBO and Disney. 

Your head snaps up at the intrusion, and the despair that flickers across your face is immediately chased away by the sharp edge of irritation.

Your lip quivers when you snap, rolling your eyes:

“What part of go away is so hard to understand?” 

He takes another step forward, feet dragging against the coarse carpet. His best attempt at a smile is a stiff twitch of his lips, mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Guess I’m getting hard of hearing.”

The words hang uselessly in the air, doing nothing to soften the harsh lines of your brow. You retreat further into yourself, chin tucked behind your knees, glaring at him warily like a cornered stray. 

And there’s anger there, sure, but it’s something else too—beneath all the layers of pain, frustration—a bone-deep exhaustion he knows all too well.

“I don’t need—”

“—I know.” Nylon fibers cling to his sole as he kicks, boot scuffing against the carpet. “Just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”

It’s a lousy line, he knows. But it works, if only to crack through your cold façade. 

“Holding up?” You laugh, a dry sound that sucks all the air from the room. “I’m fine. Perfectly okay. Just like those thirty-eight civilians. Like Jones and Meyers in the IC-U.”

Your voice breaks on the last syllable, arms unraveling like a broken slinky as they fall limp over your lap, your feet sliding to the floor. He sees it, then—a flash of white beneath the hem of your shorts, deep crimson staining the gauze from the inside out. 

And something in his stomach twists. Breaths quickening, fingers twitching at his sides—he’d noticed the limp earlier, but this seems worse.

Urgency flares in his chest as he steps closer. The edges of your makeshift dressing are frayed, the dimensions of the wound too large to hide. Only then does he register the emergency med kit splayed open on the coffee table, its contents scattered about haphazardly.

His eyes lock in on the heap of gauze pads nearby—soaked through with your blood, darkening the fabric in patches—and his breathing stops. 

“What happened?”

You freeze, realization flashing across your face.

“Nothing.”

Brows furrowed, he steps in closer, trying to tamp down the strange irritation bubbling in his chest. “It’s clearly not—“

A sharp, heaving breath cuts him off, halfway between a sigh and a scream, and you lurch upright.

“—Jesus christ, it’s nothing, just,” Your hands rake through your hair, fingers clawing at your scalp, “god, can you just—” 

You collapse back down, palms digging into your eyes as you let the couch swallow you whole. He holds his breath, biting his tongue at how quickly it had all happened. 

The first sob hits after a long, suffocating pause. Your body crumples like parchment, folding inward, the lines of you trembling like branches caught in the wind.

His eyes trail back to the pile of blood-soaked bandages, your muffled sobs pounding against his eardrums. And the knot in his stomach tightens another notch.

Because all he can think is—this is it.

What he’s been running from since the day he met you. 

The most terrifying, fundamental truth.

For all your indomitable spirit, you aren’t him. Not shielded by the same untouchable strength. That miraculous concoction that lets him sidestep his reckoning at every turn.

It’s a fickle thing, mortality. He’s teetered over its shadowed edges, more times than he can count. Yet, even when he chose the drop, 80 years ago in the middle of the Arctic, it had failed to claim him—some twisted stroke of man-made fate suspending his corpus and careening him into a new century. 

Your mortality doesn’t play by the same rules—a newly lit match, flickering brightly at one turn, snuffed out the next.  

And he realizes the knot in his stomach is fear.

He’s terrified. Of you. Of the way you make him yearn for a predestined loss. 

His conviction in permanence has been scrubbed raw like wood against sandpaper—loss turned into anger turned into despair, eventually whittled down into disappointment. You’re one of the last threads holding it together. 

One more brush, one more stroke—and he’d be gone.

“…I should’ve clocked it,” your muffled voice breaks the spiral. “Fuck, I should’ve known.”  

“Hey, hey.” 

He steps forward, bending one knee to the floor, his hand rising to brush the side of your arm, hovering as if to offer solace. He swallows hard, dislodging the words caught in his throat.

"It was an ambush. None of us could’ve seen that coming.”

You shake your head, rubbing the corner of your cheek so roughly it makes him wince. 

Then the words that slip from your chapped lips nearly break him.

“It should’ve been me.”

He shakes his head, swallowing back a wave of nausea, the taste of bile rising sharp and bitter on his tongue.

“It shouldn’t have been anyone.”

The rest of his words claw at the back of his throat, burning.

No, not you. 

Never you.

You snort, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you straighten.

“Look, if you’re here for a pep talk, can this wait till tomorrow? I’m kinda tired right now.”  

But his gaze is already wandering downward, tracing the path of your injured leg.

And he murmurs:

“Let me fix it.”

A soft tap against your bare knee, and it makes your eyes grow wide. The tears clinging to your lashes turn sharper than cut glass, refracting crystalline and jagged under the dim light. 

You cock your head and blink, incredulous. 

“The dressing’s too loose. You can’t leave it like that.”

You sigh out a laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh, so now you’re a medic too?”

He lets his gaze drop, the weight of it settling on the floor as he shuffles forward, dropping his other leg to the ground. 

“C’mon,” he murmurs, even quieter now, giving your knee another tap. 

You release a heavy breath before you oblige, brows furrowed, lifting your leg so he can peel off the bandaging looped around your thigh, wincing when the cotton clings stubbornly to the raw edges of your wound.  

As exhaustion drags your leg downward, his hand finds the hollow behind your knee, steadying you, warm and achingly soft against the calloused edges of his palm.

At the sight of your wound uncovered, he swallows—a ragged gash stretching across your thigh, too long, too deep.

His lungs feels tight, each breath snagging like the time he fractured half his ribcage.

“Did you even clean this out?”

Your silence answers for you, loud and clear. 

And even in the weight of the moment, he can’t help but glance up and give you a look. The kind of chiding, quiet disapproval that would normally have you rolling your eyes all the way back.

Now, the only energy you can muster is a subtle tilt of your head, your gaze soft and unfocused, blinking slowly as he averts his eyes back down. 

He reaches for the first aid kit, still strung out on the coffee table, and his hands quiver when he tips the bottle of iodine against a cotton pad, the copper liquid staining it with a sickly gleam. The acrid scent punctures the air, thick and harsh as he holds it up against your raw wound.

You exhale sharply, a pained breath caught between your teeth.

"Fuck." You groan, tensing immediately. ”God, son of a—"

And this must really hurt, because you’re one of the few people he knows who can match his chronically abnormal pain tolerance. 

“I know,” his voice is thick with restraint, shoulders tipped forward and crowding the space between your legs. His left hand moves to splay across your knee, tension rippling beneath his palm, your breaths growing heavy when he has to start pressing deeper. 

Once so deep that you let out an involuntary gasp, your hand shooting out to grab at his wrist, fingers curling tight. He freezes, eyes fluttering shut to avoid looking up, because he’s pretty sure that’d be the thing to undo him completely. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice rough. Waits for your grip to loosen, that trembling, frantic hold slipping just enough for him to continue.

“…almost done, promise.” Desperation seizes his chest as he tries to work quicker, and the only taste in his mouth is metal now—’cause if you’d had just let him bring you to med bay, they could’ve given you something, topical cream, lidocaine shots, whatever, to make this go away. 

He bites down harder to try and block out the sight of your hands in his periphery, the way your fingertips turn ghostly white, digging into the scratchy upholstery to resist reaching for him again. But no matter how hard he tries, there’s no reprieve from that grating sound of your nails against the fabric, the way it scrapes and claws every time he lowers his hand, your body jerking to try and brace against the agony.

23:54

Slow and mechanical, the bandage wraps around leg in measured turns, like tape over his knuckles before he steps up to a punching bag.   

He gently tugs on the bandaging, his eyes lifting for the first time since he’s been down here. He takes your tired nod as confirmation, immediately occupying himself with rustling, scrunching up empty packages and crinkly plastic into a tight fist as he closes up the kit.

“You still need to get that checked out, looks like it might need stitches.”

“Uh huh.” 

And the knot in his stomach grows, cause he’d be willing to bet everything that you won’t. 

But then, you say:

“Steve.” 

And he stares back, incredulous, at the slow curve of your smile, the swell of your cheeks catching the light. Your eyes glint up at him, and his stomach does another lurch—this time for a different reason altogether. 

“…thank you.”

He nods, clearing his throat as he rises to his feet, knees creaking like old floorboards and hell, maybe he is getting old. 

“Make sure you’re not putting weight on that leg, means no running or lifting for a while.”

“Yessir.”

A lazy smile accompanied by a salute, and he has to fight the wave of nostalgia of that day in Lagos. 

And—because old habits die hard and the habits of this job die harder—a parting remark starts to formulate in the back of his throat. Something profound about their line of work, about doing the best you can. 

Don't beat yourself up, you did everything you could.  

But instead, he settles on a silent nod, heavy ache simmering in his chest.

He casts one last look at your tired frame, draped loosely over the couch, and leaves the same way he came in. 

00:00

a/n: soo i had finished this chapter a while back, but ended up rewriting it and decided to go in a completely different direction. hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading :) feedback is always welcome!

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[jadedvibes]

Some Bucky to brighten your day. ❤️

Last First Kiss

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Excessive fluff, first kisses, soft Bucky in Louisiana for New Year's Eve.

Word Count: 600

A/N: Thank you for this sweet @navybrat817. This truly brightened my day and inspired a nye drabble! Hope everyone has a very Happy New Year! 💙✨

“So a little birdie told me you’ve never had a new year’s kiss…” Bucky leaned against the wood railing beside you, taking in the sunset on the bayou.

Your eyes widened before you took a deep breath. “I’m gonna kill him.” Ever the meddler, Sam would tell your secret to the first guy you’d liked in a long time. 

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” he let out a laugh. “Sam always knows the exact right thing to do to get under your skin, it’s a gift really.” 

You shrugged casually. “He overheard me telling Sarah. It’s no big deal.” It really wasn’t, but you knew why Sam was annoyingly butting in. He’d also heard you telling his sister about how smitten you were with his dark-haired best friend. 

“Well let me know if you want to change that.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, a small smile playing at your lips. There was no way. “The killing him part or the kiss?” 

Bucky smirked, charmed and hopeful that you’d agree. “I haven’t had one in a while, so keep me posted,” he checked his watch. Only a few more hours until midnight. The Wilson household had planned a lowkey evening for the kids later, and the both of you would be in attendance. 

He’d secretly had a crush on you for a little longer than you had on him and with Sam’s encouragement he figured there was no better time to do something about it.

“Haven’t committed a murder or given a kiss in a while?” You smiled sheepishly, trying awfully hard to deflect. Of all the reactions to finding out you’d never had a new year’s kiss, this was the last one you expected. Sam’s best friend, a guy you thought was off-limits, offering to change things for you.

He let out a laugh, you were too adorable. “Think about it, sweetheart. I hear it’s good luck,” he playfully shot you a wink before heading back to the barbeque. 

Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you turned back to look at the setting sun over the calm waters. Colorful, peaceful, and captivating.

Later that night.

Sam nudged Sarah before shouting. “Guys it's 12:04, you’ve rung in the new year! You can break it up now.”

Grinning against Bucky’s lips, you felt your cheeks warm again. Busted.

Bucky begrudgingly pulled away from you, turning to glare at Sam. “Just getting as much luck from this as we can, man. Feel free to look away,” he muttered breathlessly before meeting your gaze with a soft shy smile. His thumb stroked your jawline, noting how beautiful you were up close. 

He went from menacing to cute in a split second. How did he do that? It didn’t really matter because the way he looked at you, well you sure could get used to it. 

“Yeah, look somewhere else,” you teasingly scowled at Sam before tugging at Bucky's henley and kissing him again. He cupped your face and poured himself into the kiss. He thought he was out of practice, but it surprised him how easily he fell back into step with you. Soft and sweeter than anything you could’ve imagined. Warm and careful with just the right amount of desire to leave you aching. Nothing you could have expected, yet everything you silently wished for. 

Neither of you knew it then, but what a lucky year it would turn out to be. Never did you imagine that the man that would be your first new year’s kiss would also be your last; for many years in between, and every day after. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Backburner 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is easy going until he’s not. 

Characters: Sam Wilson, this reader is known as Dizzie.

Author’s Note:Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Your attention span has always been inconsistent. Still, you’ve found ways to keep yourself on track. That day, none of your tricks are working. You fidget and fumble your way through the hours, dreading the moment Sam returns from his meeting. 

You squirm at the thought of the stray panties. He was right. You put them on just like he told you to but it’s that last part you’re not sure you can do. You just don’t get it. Sam’s a nice guy and a great boss. Or so you thought. 

Billie always told you you’re too trusting. Missie always told you not to listen and Rosie agrees. You can’t see the worst in everyone. Elfie says it never hurts to be too cautious.

You stare at the list of contacts and resign yourself to suffering alone. You don’t know who to ask. You don’t even know how to begin to explain your predicament.  

Every way you frame it in your head just makes it sound like you asked for all this. You let the lines blur between you and your boss and now they’re slowly disappearing. You cross one leg over the other and rock, chewing your thumb as you turn your attention to the computer. 

Your focus app chirps to remind you to stay on task. Yeah, yeah, shut up. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything? 

Your computer dings and a notification pops up in the corner of the screen. You're less concerned about what it says than the time. Oh dang, you really let it get ahead of you. 

Your attention is drawn back to the message and you tap your mouse. Sam startles you as his door opens and you hide behind the monitor. A scalding heat courses through you. He struts by whistling as you read his last message. 

‘Gonna run and talk to accounting. My gym bag’s under the desk.’ 

Shoot. Shoot. Oh, gosh, are you really going to do this? 

You gulp. Your throat is so tight it makes a churning noise. You stand shakily and look around. There’s not really anyone to catch you. 

You scurry around your desk and nearly trip into his office. You shut the door with a soft click and whine. You really don’t like this. How—why—you can’t even the questions that have your head spinning. 

Sam is such a sweet guy. So much nicer than your last boss. Your mind flashes through the last few days; running into him at the bar, the panties, sitting all day in shame. Your eyes sting as you lift your skirt. You roll your panties down and sniffle. You can’t cry. You’re an adult. 

You go behind his desk and reach under to slide his bag out. You drop the panties inside and recoil. You kick it away from you and retreat. 

As you emerge, you look both ways as if crossing a busy street. You go back to your desk and hunker down for the last twenty minutes. You hear Sam on his way back, whistling, strutting. His doors snaps shut behind him. 

You focus on making your list for tomorrow. You have to move a few things from today over and catch up. You tremble as you fight the looming noose of distraction. How can you concentrate with the cool air creeping up your legs. You squeeze your thighs together. 

Another message. This one not on your computer. Your phone vibrates. You expect Missie or Rosie. Maybe even Elfie. No. It’s Sam? On Snap? You only use that for the filters. But why wouldn't he message you on Teams? Nothing he’s doing makes very much sense. 

You unlock your phone and bite down on a gasp. You stare at the video that fills the otherwise empty conversation. He has your panties wrapped around his dick, his fingers gripping tightly. He pumps himself several times before it stops and disappears into the ether. 

You black your phone screen and put it face down. You roll back to your computer and cup your hot cheek. Your other hand swoops around your mouse but you can’t do much of anything but replay it all in your head. Your phone vibes again and again. 

No, no, no. You won’t look. Your eyes glaze over in a wall of tears and you close them to keep the flow from spilling over. 

The door opens and you sit up. It’s time to go home. Sam appears above your monitor before you can pack up and escape. You look up at him with a quivering lip. 

“Hey, Diz? What’s up?” He leans forward and splays his fingers wide on the desk. His fly is undone and your panties peek out of his pocket. “You look... flustered.” 

Your mouth opens and closes. You can’t look him in the face. You sniff and shut down the computer. You pivot your chair away from him and grab your phone and purse. You frantically start to shove things into your bag. You stand as he lurks around the other side of your desk. 

“How about I give you a ride home? Can’t have you taking the bus during rush hour.” He purrs. 

“No--thanks,” you croak. “I always take the--” You stop short as you circle around the desk, only for him to meet you there. 

He leans in and lowers his voice, “you get on the bus with no panties,” he slowly wraps his fingers around your purse strap and wiggles it free, “and someone might get ideas about you.” You blink and pout up at him as he licks his lips. “They might think you don’t belong to me." 

[writerscafehub]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

/) /)

( • ༝•)

c /づ づ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of OCTOBER. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𖥔 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕 | god of spring!timothee chalamet

Part seven of the crown him series

✶ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 | the beast

Imagine a twisted beauty and the beast. Reverse kidnapping: I’m in your house and I’m not leaving

𖥔 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 | bard!timothee chalamet

An unlikely trio on an impossible quest pick up a stray along the way

𖥔 ✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓 | soft!dark!king hal

Hal could sympathize with Hades, for after seeing the light of life, how could he not pin it close to his darkness

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 | king hal

Hal finds that sitting for his portrait isn’t bad at all

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑 | prince hal

Disowned or not, the son of the king needed to be protected

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | art student!frat brother!steve rogers

Steve can’t remember what happened last night, but his body sure does. Regret is the worst hangover of all - even more so when you can’t remember what you regret

✶ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓 | bucky barnes

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn’t in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives - but what is rescue if not relief from suffering.

By 𖠰 Nat 𖠰 @the-iceni-bitch

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 | kinktober masterlist

Prepare yourselves for a month filled with wicked and scandalous delights, with vicious and freakish lovers for whatever type of monster you may fancy

By ❈ Beanie ❈ @shadeysprings

𖥔 ✶ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 | kinktober masterlist

Four stories with captivatingly dark themes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 | dark!pete brenner

You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make you say yes

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐒 | dark!ransom drysdale

Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘 | priest!lee boedecker

The new priest of your church asks you to sing for him.

𖥔 ✶ 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 | serial killer!lee boedecker

With the serial killer targeting boys, you thought you were safe. Until you weren’t.

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | thirteen nights of halloween masterlist

13 Nights of Halloween and each night is going to be a different (what I'm calling) "campfire stories". Each story is going to be told by a different character ranging from Chris Evans characters to Sebastian Stan characters to Marvel Characters. Make sure to take a look at the Intro to meet the various characters! So, gather around the fire and try not to get too scared.

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 | ghost!bucky barnes

Bucky was taken from you by HYDRA a year ago. You mourn him and miss him, until you start dreaming of him… until he starts coming back to you

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | sugar daddy!sam wilson

Quick and dirty sugar daddy Sam Drabble.

By 𖤛 Roo 𖤛 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

✶ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐉𝐀𝐇 | yelena belova

You find a stranger at your door, a visitor you can’t make leave

✶ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 | kraven the hunter

You catch the eye of a mysterious man who shares an unexpected secret with you

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

✶ 𝐂���𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃

A group of friends decide to explore the haunted house on the shortcut back to campus. Ignoring the 'No Trespassing' signs. They ease drop in on a meeting between beings, mortals have never lived to tell tales about. And find out the consequences of ease dropping on the annual Hallows Eve meeting.

𖥔 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 | druig and makkari and female!oc

The kink alphabet for the threesome

𖥔 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | druig and female!oc

Reader is horny but won’t do anything about it because she is busy doing other things. But her husband who can read minds can hear her inner struggle and does something about it.

𖥔 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | druig and makkari and female!oc

Makkari has a surprise field trip for Juni and Druig. They don’t know where they are going. It is her turn to pick where they meet up this time.

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𖥔 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 |

Introduction to Kinktober

𖥔 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | billy russo

Inspired by the song ‘Slow Hand’ by the Pointer Sisters

✶𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 | softdark!frank castle

Inspired by the song ‘Breath’ by Breaking Benjamin

By ☪︎ Gina ☪︎ @slvttyfied

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | chef!ari levinson

Cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me and every day is like a battle but every night with us is like a dream

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐉 | carmen berzatto

Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

By ⚘ Akane ⚘ @haravath0t

𖥔 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 | college au!alhaitham

College AU headcanon

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

���� ✶𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 | various SS and CE characters

One shots and ficlets for the month of October

𖥔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | bucky barnes

You want Bucky in your mouth. Simple as that.

By ✍︎ Em ✍︎ @writing-for-marvel

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 | mob!bucky barnes

Newlyweds Mob!Bucky and wife!reader explore Europe and each other during their honeymoon.

By ❀ Ali ❀ @flordeamatista

𖥔 ✶ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | various SS and CE characters

Kinktober inspired by tarot cards and their auras

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 | lee boedecker

A tale of your wicked deeds.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐒𝐄𝐓

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𖥔 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | masterlist

Spooky season stories heavily inspired by Hozier’s album, ‘Eat Your Young’

𖥔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | rockstar!sam/steve/bucky

When your friends invite you to a rock show and the drummer invites you back to his hotel room, you might get more than you bargained for yet…

By ✬ Astro ✬ @astrorogers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 | wanda maximoff

The Scarlet Witch has arrived which means her familiar must finally reunite with her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 | wanda maxinoff

Wanda teaches kitten about Halloween

𖥔 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐒𝐊 | mistress!wanda maximoff

Mistress!Wanda x sub!kitten reader smut

© all works belong to the respective writers of the writers café server.

[late-to-the-party-81]

I hope you enjoyed. There will be more!

Tit for tat

AN: Hey folks - I've moved away from niche content today to re-visit some of our favs - The boys in Conclave. Be good, Bunny!

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beta’d by @lunarbuck

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Pairings: Sam x Bucky; Steve x Reader

CW: Voyeurism, JOI, dub con (due to universe), Exhibitionism, explicit sexual content. THIS IS A SOFT!DARK UNIVERSE.

Word count: 1.1k

“They know you’re watching, Bunny.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your gasp and span around as the voice whispered in your ear.

Steve loomed behind you, his lips curled up in a mirthful smile.

Sam and Bucky were out on the private balcony of the penthouse. You’d noticed them when you had been walking through the apartment and had been going to join them when you saw how close they were. How their fingers were entwined and looking at each other as if the other had hung the moon. You’d felt bad about intruding.

But then they’d started kissing, and it had quickly turned heated between them. You should have moved away, you knew that, but you couldn’t. They were so beautiful together. You’d seen them and Steve together in many of your collective bedroom scenes, and watched Steve and Bucky together. Still, you’d never had the opportunity to watch Bucky and Sam from a spectator’s view. It was wrong. It was hot.

And then Steve caught you...

You ducked your head and tried to glide around him.

“I should…umm…go.”

“And deprive them of their rapt audience?” He grabbed your wrist firmly and drew you back to stand in front of him, your back pressed to his front, where you’d been before he’d surprised you.

Bucky was lying on one of the sun loungers, shirtless, with his legs spread so that Sam could lie between them. He was cupping Sam’s cheeks, kissing him like the world was ending, as Sam tangled his dexterous fingers in Bucky’s shoulder-length chestnut hair. They didn’t look like they knew anyone was watching, but you didn’t doubt Steve’s statement.

“It’s okay to watch. Okay to enjoy it. If they wanted privacy, they would have ensured they had it. Remember, we’re all together, and it’s natural to get pleasure from seeing your lover get pleasure.” 

Steve’s voice was low in your ear, his other hand splayed across your lower stomach, pressing you into him. A couple of his fingers were under the fabric of your robe, his fingertips like hot brands on your skin. He gently brought your hand down to just under his.

“Touch yourself, bunny.” 

His voice and the sight of the other two in front of you created an erotic tableau, one that was hard to resist. Unable to take your eyes off Sam and Bucky, who had now shucked their pants and were groping each other through their underwear, your fingers slid deftly through your folds. You were slicker than you had imagined. The glide, the way your finger brushed over your clit, made you moan and your eyes flutter.

“Gently circle your clit. That’s it. Like the way Sam’s teasing Bucky’s nipple with his tongue. Imagine it’s Sam’s tongue on your greedy pussy, teasing you.”

Bucky’s back was arched where he lay on the lounger. Sam was indeed playing with the assassin’s chest, the dark nipples standing to attention under his ministrations. He’d also pulled Bucky’s cock out of his briefs and was slowly jacking it. You moaned as you saw a bead of precum form and roll down his thick shaft. Steve’s hand flexed on your stomach, and you could feel his erection digging into your buttocks.

“Now, slide one of those fingers of yours inside…”

You did as he said as you watched Sam slowly move down Bucky’s body, maintaining eye contact while his lover rambled in Russian. You gasped as you watched Sam take Bucky in his mouth just as you pushed your finger as deep inside you as you could manage. The heel of your palm brushed against your clit, and you shuddered.

“Add another, Bunny, then pump them slowly, in time with Sam…”

Your breathing picked up as you watched Sam turning Bucky into a quivering wreck beneath him. You could see him cupping and rolling Bucky’s balls as he swallowed down as much of his cock as he could manage. When Bucky started to rub and pluck at his own nipples, Steve silently moved your free hand to your own breasts, drawing your robe apart so that practically all of your front was now on display. You didn’t notice, and even if you had, you probably wouldn’t have cared.

“Are you curling those fingers, sweetheart? Find that sweet spot of yours. I think Sam is doing that to Bucky now, as well.”

Bucky’s thighs were twitching, and you couldn’t see Sam’s hand any longer, so you thought that Steve was probably right.

“Keep that rhythm. I want you to cum when Buck does….” He leant down, his lips trailing over your neck, the slight tickling burn of his facial hair setting your nerve endings alight. And the way Bucky and Sam were moving and moaning…

Bucky’s eyelashes kissed his cheeks, and the veins in his neck and right arm were prominent against his pale skin as he climbed toward his release. Then there was Sam. Sam who seemed to be making it his mission to give Bucky the sloppiest and noisiest blowjob ever. Every time he bobbed his head, he left Bucky’s cock slick with drool. His saliva also covered his hand and Bucky’s pale thighs. He was also groaning and gagging. You could swear he was actually rolling his hips against the lounger, using the friction to get himself off.

“Bucky’s almost there, Bunny. Are you ready? Are you going to come with him?”

His hand covered yours where you were fingering yourself, so big that he pressed your hand firmer onto your clit as well as increasing the pressure on your abdomen. Small whimpers left your mouth, your head rolling back against Steve’s shoulder as you prepared to let go.

“О, бля!”

Your eyes shot open at Bucky’s yell, which was followed by a groan from Sam as he swallowed down Bucky’s cum. Some leaked out of the corner of his mouth, rolling down his chin…

You cried out, only remaining upright because Steve was holding you.

“There you go, sweetheart.”

He scooped you up and started walking. It took you a few breaths to realise he wasn’t taking you to your bedroom but out onto the patio before settling down on the second lounger with you, turning you to face him.  He pressed kisses to your lips, your jaw, your neck, in just the way he knew got you going.

“Steve? What are you doing? Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere a little more private?”

“Well, Bunny, as we watched Buck and Sam, it seems only fair they get to watch us…”  

You looked over your shoulder and saw a pair of matching grins aimed at you as the two men sat side by side, fisting their cocks…

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @sheismarvelousworld

[magical-reid]

Unknown Past (part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Barnes!Reader (No use of Y/N, reader is referred as Mrs./Dr. Barnes)

Setting: Modern MCU timeline, Avengers Tower.

Perspective: Third Person Limited (Reader’s perspective).

Word Count: 1.K

This will be a multi-part story inspired by my fic "Remembering James".

Hospitals were familiar, almost comforting in their routine. Between the soft hum of monitors and the sterile scent of disinfectant, you’d carved out a life here, even if you had no idea where you’d come from before.

You woke up one day, seventy years displaced, with only a few clues to your identity: a simple wedding band, dog tags clutched in your hand, and the name James tattooed on the inside of your wrist. The world said you were a super soldier, part of a classified experiment during World War II, but your own memories didn’t agree—or, more accurately, they didn’t exist.

James Barnes. Who are you?

You didn’t dwell on it often—there wasn’t time. The ER at Mercy General had a way of pulling you into its current, the hours bleeding together in a steady stream of triage calls and patient care. You’d gotten used to it, the sense of distraction that came with being useful.

But sometimes, like today, the questions crept back in. Your fingers brushed absently over the chain hidden beneath your scrubs, the cool metal of the tags grounding you. You didn’t know why you wore them, only that you couldn’t bring yourself to take them off.

The hospital pager clipped to your scrubs buzzed sharply, dragging you back to the present.

“Paging Dr. Barnes,” the voice crackled over the intercom. “Stark Enterprises has a… situation. You’ve been requested to assist the Avengers immediately. Pack your things.”

You groaned softly. Tony Stark always had a flair for dramatics.

Meeting the Avengers

You spotted them the moment they entered the ER.

Steve Rogers led the group, all commanding presence and tightly-wound charm. His bright blue eyes scanned the room with military precision, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed to take up more space than anyone else. Behind him was Sam Wilson, cracking a grin at something Steve said.

But it was the third man—the one with long, dark hair and intense blue eyes—that stopped you in your tracks.

You knew him. Or you thought you did.

Your mind scrambled to place him. His face was familiar, though you couldn’t say from where. Maybe the news? He was the Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes, you remembered suddenly—but here, in person, the sight of him struck a chord. Something inside you stirred, something that felt like… longing.

You blinked, shaking the thought away.

“Dr. Barnes?” Steve’s voice broke through the haze, his hand extended for a handshake. “I’m Captain Steve Rogers. Tony asked us to escort you to the Tower.”

“Of course,” you said, plastering on a professional smile, though your gaze flickered back to the man Steve hadn’t introduced. He stood stiffly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes stayed glued to you, like he was memorizing every detail.

“And you are?” you asked, directing the question to him.

“James,” he said softly. Then, louder: “Bucky Barnes.”

Your breath hitched. The dog tags hidden beneath your scrub top suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

James Barnes. My James?'

The Ride to Avengers Tower

The Quinjet was quieter than you expected.

Steve and Sam made polite attempts at conversation, but you were too distracted to focus. Your gaze kept flickering to Bucky, seated across from you, his gloved hands gripping the edge of his seat like it might keep him grounded.

Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you. His gaze would dart away quickly, but you felt the weight of it lingering, like a shadow at the edge of your vision.

You couldn’t explain why his presence affected you so much. He was just another face in the crowd of superhumans and geniuses you were being thrust into, yet something about him pulled at you.

When you arrived at Avengers Tower, Tony Stark was waiting.

“Welcome to the madhouse,” he said with a grin, ushering you into the sprawling building. “We’ve got state-of-the-art everything. Well, mostly because I built it. Steve’s already complained that it’s too advanced, but he’s still using a flip phone, so what does he know?”

You nodded along politely, but your attention kept drifting. Bucky hovered in the periphery of your vision, his expression unreadable.

“Barnes!” Tony called sharply, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “You with us?”

“Sorry,” you said quickly, heat creeping into your cheeks.

“Right,” Tony said, clearly unimpressed. “Let’s get you settled. Medbay’s this way.”

A Familiar Stranger

The medbay was, predictably, sleek and spotless. Stark had spared no expense, the equipment here leagues beyond anything you’d worked with before.

Tony launched into a rapid-fire explanation of the setup, but you couldn’t focus. Your gaze kept flickering to the reflection in the glass cabinets: Bucky, standing a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you.

“What’s his deal?” you asked quietly, gesturing toward him.

Tony glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “Oh, that’s Barnes—well, the other Barnes. Bucky. He’s… complicated. Steve’s bestie, formerly brainwashed assassin, now part-time brooder and full-time pain in my ass. Why? Did he say something weird?”

“No,” you said quickly. “Just curious.”

Tony gave you a long look, then shrugged. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll leave you to get acclimated. Try not to break anything expensive.”

He left with a wave, and suddenly, it was just you and Bucky.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, finally, he stepped forward.

“Do you need help unpacking?” he asked, his voice quieter than you expected.

You shook your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

As he turned to leave, you called after him. “Wait.”

He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Have we met before?” you asked.

His jaw tightened. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then, quietly, he said: “Yeah. A long time ago.”

Your heart stuttered. “How long?”

“A lifetime.”

Before you could ask anything else, he was gone.

Part 2

[delicatebarness]

The Avengers Bunch | What the Flerken?! #003

Summary: Bucky finds a cat and brings it back to the compound. But, that's no cat.

Warning: Mentions of Dry Heaving.

Word Count: 795

Series Masterlist | Tips

Requested: Yes - Anon Request

Tags: @somnorvos |

Bucky wasn’t expecting to find anything of importance while trudging through the city, he just wanted a moment of solace in the bustling streets of New York City. But, once again, fate had other plans for the ex-assassin. 

A soft whimper caught his attention causing him to halt, his gaze scanning the alley intently. Curiosity arose as he approached, his hand hovering over the hilt of his knife.

Drawing closer, he came to the realization that the figure was… just a cat. Staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Hey there, little guy,” Bucky murmured as he knelt, extending his hand to the cat. “You lost?” 

To his surprise, it didn’t recoil. Instead, the cat leaned into his touch with a faint purr that tugged at his heart. Without a second thought, Bucky scooped the cat up in his arms and headed back to the compound. 

The cat nestled comfortably in Bucky’s arms, during their way back to the compound Bucky had decided that the cat would be called ‘Alpine’.

As they arrived back at the compound, Bucky set Alpine down on the floor. Turning his back to fetch a dish, Bucky hoped to establish some authority. 

The sound of shattering glass made him whirl around. His heart raced as he witnessed Alpine’s tentacles spring forth. They knocked over vases and sent objects flying across the room.

“What the hell?!” Bucky exclaimed, he rushed to try and contain the chaos.

~

Bucky was determined to keep the ‘cat’ occupied as the weeks went on. He rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to find the cat food. He opened it and set out a bowl in front of Alpine. 

“Here, just don’t…” he trailed off as he watched the ‘cat’ step closer to the bowl.

Alpine sniffed the food before opening her mouth wide. Bucky’s eyes widened as he witnessed the rows of razor-sharp teeth and tentacles devour the whole bowl in an instant. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Bucky muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Stark’s gonna be mad if any more bowls go missing,” a voice said from the kitchen door. Bucky’s gaze snapped to yours. You stood watching the entire exchange, quietly eating a bowl of cereal. 

He let out a heavy sigh, “I thought it was a cat,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

~

Exhausted from the day’s mission, Bucky collapsed onto the couch, he had been hoping for a moment of peace. However, Alpine had other ideas. She leaped onto his lap and began to dry heave.

“On no, no no, not on the couch-” Bucky began, but it was too late as with the final heave, Alpine puked up Sam Wilson. He came up tumbling onto the couch, looking utterly disoriented, and slightly damp.

“What the hell just happened?” Sam groaned, taking in his bearings.

“She thought you were a bird…” your voice trailed off. You stood by the common room door, sipping on your milkshake, an amused look on your face at the scene unfolding.

Bucky shot you a look of frustration. “Do you have nothing better to do?” Bucky asked you.

You grinned, taking another sip. “You’re cute when you’re flushed, Barnes,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Erm, hello?” Sam groaned again, trying to sit up.

~

Bucky woke to find Alpine staring at him, her glowing eyes eerily looking down at him in the darkness. He braced himself for an attack, his body tensing. Yet, Alpine simply curled up next to him, brushing her face against his Vibranium arm. 

“You’re not so bad, are you?” He whispered, smiling down at Alpine. She purred as they both relaxed into each other.

~

Bucky decided to take Alpine into the common areas of the compound, hoping she could showcase the work Bucky had put into her training. 

“Just be cool, alright?” He muttered under his breath.

But, he spoke too soon as her tentacles lashed out. She knocked over furniture and caused immediate panic. Tony ducked to avoid a flying lamp, while Natasha vaulted over the couch, dodging a tentacle. 

“Control your pet, Barnes” Tony yelled, bringing up a holographic shield from his nanotech. 

“I’m trying!” Bucky shouted back as he struggled to reign in the creature.

~

Despite the chaos Alpine brought into his life, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a growing affection toward her. They sat together by a window, watching the grounds below.

“You’re not so bad, considering the amount of trouble you cause,” he sighed as he gently scratched behind Alpine’s ear.

She purred, nuzzling again his hand. In that quiet moment, they sensed a mutual understanding and accepted each other.  

Later, they curled up together on the couch, and Bucky felt at peace. Finding an unlikely friendship, that he never knew he needed.

---

Series Masterlist

[midnightbabylon]

Fine

summary: Bucky Barnes is the only person in the world who ignores you. Yet you are constantly sent on mission with him. In this one you get hurt by accident and he is disturbingly nice and caring to you and that confuses you.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: fluffy and soft Barnes

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Starting a new life is not always easy. After the Battle in New York City, you were faced with nothing. Your family was buried under your Manhattan apartment. An explosion had taken everything from you. Your ear rang violently and blood ran from it. You struggled through the wreckage of the streets, shaking, when it was all over. You fled the state and built a new life with the rest of your family's savings. Never again did you want to go through life without a fight. If such an attack ever happened again, you wanted to be ready for it.

"Good morning." you said as you entered the kitchen and adjoining dining room. Everyone murmured a quiet reply except Bucky. Sighing softly, you placed your cup under the coffee maker and pressed the button. Then you made yourself a sandwich and took the last seat at the other end of the table. Your ears listened to some conversations, but you did not participate in any of them. Silently you watched the morning hustle and bustle. If someone told you 6 years ago that you would be at Avengers headquarters, you wouldn't have believed them.

"Oh nice everyone is here, then I can start the meeting." Tony ate a handful of blueberries and stopped across from you. "Romanov and Clint you guys hit the jackpot. Fury will join." he handed Natasha the first file then they left. "Steve, Wilson and Wanda. Quinjet and the longest mission. Good luck." Steve took the next file. An uncomfortable feeling spread through you and inwardly you hoped he wouldn't mention you're and Bucky's names. But luck was not on your side today. "Bucky and Y/N. Warehouse in New Jersey." Frustrated, you exhaled and picked up the file. Shortly thereafter, the ghastly squeak of a chair broke the silence and Bucky stormed out of the room. You really weren't hungry anymore, so you pushed the sandwich over to Peter and stood up. "It gets better eventually." Uncertainly, you looked at Tony. "What?" you asked. "The nightmares. Friday evaluated last week's night logs for me. You can always talk to someone here Y/N." Nodding silently, you walked out of the common room to your room. As you did so, you flipped through the file.

You couldn't explain why he hated you so much. After all, you had some things in common. When you weren't on missions, you could be found in front of a good book or lost in thought in a quiet place. You especially avoided parties of any kind, simply because your social battery drained very quickly. Sam regularly tried to lure you and Bucky out of the room. It usually worked for the cold soldier, but not for you. You liked your privacy and have always been more of a loner. After freshening up and slipping into your new black suit, you came into the garage. You ran your fingers over the new fabric. Tony had completely redesigned your suit and improved it. "Took you long enough," Bucky muttered grumpily. Annoyed, you clench your jaw and stare at him for a few seconds. "Why are you always like this with me?" you blurted out. "I haven't done anything to you!" Shaking your head, you got into the car without saying another word. You slammed the door on purpose to make your point. You stared at the monitor and typed in the destination. "Are you coming already?!" you shouted out, as Bucky was still standing in the open driver's door. He mumbled something unintelligible and got behind the wheel. The drive to Jersey didn't take long, yet your mind wandered. Not that Bucky would talk to you.

"What is that?" your mother asked as she stood at the kitchen window. Darkness fell over Manhattan for a moment and you joined her. A huge crash echoed through the streets of Midtown. "Get away from the window and find your father." she said in a trembling voice. Something was wrong but you couldn't see. You almost tripped over your own feet looking for your father. As you took the stairs to the top floor, the building began to shake. "Dad!" you yell up the stairs. Staggering, you arrived at the top. Where your father's office would have been, there was a gigantic hole between the ruins and you could see the sky. It looked like an alien invasion. Your body froze into stone as you watched the giant animal-like ships glide through the air. Your father was most likely dead and you could do nothing better than watch in panic at a potential war. You always thought aliens weren't real, but like the rest of humanity, you were probably wrong. "Y/N" your mother's voice sounded from downstairs. She was standing at the foot of the stairs, eyeing you. "Come down, right now!" You had no control over your body but somehow you reached her at the bottom. "Here." she thrust a backpack into your hand and stuffed various things into it before fleeing to the flap under the carpet. She took out all the wads of bills and stuffed them into the backpack as well. "We need to get out of here, fast." She pulled on your dazed body to get to the stairwell. The building shook again and chunks of stone fell on the concrete stairs. "Dad's dead." you finally found your voice again, and it sounded raspy. "I know my darling." she said softly and you felt her hands on your cheek. "But we have to get out of here or we'll die too." Tears smeared in her eyes and you followed her downstairs. The neighbors who were still alive were also heading down to the streets, although this probably wasn't the best idea. There were burning and broken cars on the road. Parts of houses lay scattered on the asphalt. This was the greatest nightmare in the history of the world. You had never experienced anything like it before. Most people were running in one direction, but your mother was looking in the other. "We have to go that way!" You looked at her as if she was also from another planet. "Mom, are you crazy? Isn't that where everything happens?!" You pointed at the explosions and the alien ships. "And that's exactly why no one would suspect us there. We need to find a working car and get out of there. Get the hell out of New York." You nodded and followed your mother through the wreckage. She rattled some car doors, but none of them opened. "Shit," she muttered and looked across the street. "Let's try this." she pointed to the silver SUV. She looked left and right before she ran off. The only mistake your mother made was not looking up. Before she could reach the vehicle, it exploded. The wave hit and you were thrown backwards. There was a ringing in your ears and everything was spinning. Like in slow motion, you raised your head and saw your mother's lifeless body. "Mom." It was still ringing in your ear and you felt something wet flowing down your cheek. "Mom." Breathing flatly, she looked at you and raised her hand trembling.

"Y/N." Blinking, you stared at your fingers. "Y/N" That didn't come from your thoughts. Fingers appeared in front of your eye and snapped. You shook yourself back to reality and Bucky looked at you. "We're here. I parked a few blocks down the street." He pulled the key out of the ignition. "Sorry." you muttered softly and got out in front of him. In your head you went through the file again. "Now I'd like Sam's drone to take a look at this warehouse first," you muttered as you stood in front of the complex. "We'll do it the old-fashioned way," Bucky said without emotion, and proceeded to climb the surrounding rooftops. "I don't have super serum in me to just crawl up walls. It's more of a super soldier or spiderman thing." He looked down at you, his Vibranium arm shining in the sun. "Then take the back door bore." You imagined seeing his mouth wrap twitch before he climbed through a window into the building. Terrified, you stared at the window. He just walked in without you. You crept along the wall to find an open door or window. When you finally found something you could already hear gasping and grunting. Bucky seemed to knock out the opponents without a problem. That's why you set out to find the capsule that Tony wanted. Actually, you didn't like stealing things, but this capsule had already been stolen from Avengers headquarters, so technically it was just a matter of getting it back. Like a cat, you tried to sneak quietly through the storage shelves. Behind a shelf filled with barrels, you looked around the corner. Jackpot. There was this stupid capsule alone in the room. Anticipated, you went to get her out of the warehouse as quickly as possible. Before you got to the capsule, two strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. For a moment, you thought Bucky was playing a prank on you, but those arms were about to suffocate you. It took you a second to remember your self-defense. You rammed the guy's elbow in the side and he let you go. You immediately turned around and punched him in the face. He moaned and held his nose. "What fear of losing to a girl?" you joke. "Never" said the dark-haired guy before he pulled out a knife. "That's not fair." You could hardly finish the sentence before he came out. The first few times, you were able to dodge until he caught your rib and you hissed to the floor. "Fuck." you muttered and raised your arm at the last second to fire an electric shock at him. He turned to the ground. You were panting and crawling with the capsule behind the shelf. Thus, potential new attackers would not find you immediately. When you took your hand from the wound, your hand was dyed red. Breathing deeply, you pulled yourself up and clung to the shelf. A move to your right made you twitch and almost hit before you realized it was Bucky.

"Hey. You okay?" Nodding you turned your head to him. "I´m fine." He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Really? That looks painful." „I said I‘m fine.“ The words came out of your mouth harder and louder than you intended. Typical defense strategy. However, Bucky could probably see the tears in your eyes as you pressed your palms to the fabric. "Hey, I'm sorry okay? I really just want to know if everything is okay." "Just a scratch, all right." you swallowed the rest of the emotions down. "Let me see how deep it is." he came a few steps towards you. "We'd better get back."you just answered. "Y/N, please." he looked you right in the eyes the first time and you were amazed at the light blue. He pulled the stretchy fabric apart to see the wound. "It's really not deep, but it should be stitched anyway." his cold metal fingers stroke over your skin, making you twitch. "Come." he took your arm over his shoulder and reached for the pod. "Back to headquarters. We don't want you to die." he grinned and you looked at him in disbelief. "You don't have to be nice to me now just because I'm hurt." He stopped in front of the car and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not just being nice to you…. no." he said seriously after a moment's hesitation. "Why do you usually hate me?" Tears shimmered in your eyes. "I don't hate you, not at all Y/N." he gently lifted you into the car, trying to hurt you as little as possible. "Funny you always treat me like shit though." you tried to laugh but it hurt like hell. "Who do you think leaves books at your door at night after your nightmares." He got in and drove gracefully into traffic heading for New York City. "I always thought Sam did that." you admitted quietly. "No." he muttered. "I do. I have nightmares, too. I know what it's like and I wanted to help you." He looked at the road intently. "Thanks." you whispered, "I like you Y/N I just never knew how to tell you." Your eyes got heavy. "Funny way to express it." Your voice softened and your hand slipped from the wound. "Y/N stay awake. Please stay awake." Bucky voice got louder.

"I think she is waking up," somebody murmured. "Hey they're we've been worried sick." Natasha hovered over you and Sam who was holding your hand smiled big. "Man you scared the shit out of vibranium arm boy." Now you smiled. "Sorry." "Well leave you two alone for a minute." Natasha stood up and took Sam with her. "How you feeling?" Bucky sat down on the chair next to your bed. "I feel pretty good, thanks for the rescue." He sighed. "If I was a bit faster he wouldn't even hurt you." "It is okay Bucky. I am fine. Don't worry. Let´s talk about what you said in the car earlier." you smiled. He chuckled. "Okay darling let's have that talk. But if you tell Sam I have to kill you." He took your hand in his. "First of all I am going to tell you how you flirt in this century now. No cold hearted stares anymore and treating a girl like she's air." He nodded licking his lips. "Got it. Can in kiss you anyways?" "Cheeky bastard,"you laughed out loudly with a slight pinch of pain before his warm and soft lips came crashing onto yours.

Permanent Bucky/Sebastian Taglist:

@aya-fay @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @queenofkings1212 @lilya-petrichor @dexter99 @dystopian-dez382 @xoxoloverb @yougottalovefandoms @justalostgirl

[sjsmith56]

The Important Stuff

Summary: One shot. Bucky gets up to feed his infant son during the night and takes every advantage of the time alone with him.

Length: 3K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, OFC (his wife Lisa, undescribed), OCC (Georgie, his one month old son), Sam Wilson (in flashback).

Warnings: This is so sweet and fluffy you may get diabetes.

Author notes: Several authors have written about Bucky and his child. This is my contribution to the trope.

👶🏻 🍼 🌌

It had been a month since Georgie’s birth; his arrival a moment of joy that his father Bucky Barnes would always remember. It wasn’t just the absolute awe he held for his wife, Lisa, at how magnificent she was during the birth but also at the fact that at the age of 107, Bucky Barnes was finally a father. Officially he was the oldest father of a newborn; a fact the press had a field day with when Georgie’s birth was announced by the Avengers. All sorts of news outlets had clamoured for a picture of the former Winter Soldier with his son, but Bucky and Lisa had already disappeared into the anonymity of a safe house in the country, where they could be alone with each other and adapt to being parents. Husband, wife, mother, father, and son becoming a family, while the world evolved without them.

It had taken some getting used to the needs of a super soldier baby as his appetite was voracious and as much as Lisa wanted to nurse it became obvious that supplements were necessary. Thank goodness Bruce Banner produced a high calorie nursing supplement based on the specific properties of her breast milk. That alone reduced a lot of the physical stress on her as she finally felt less like a nursing machine and more like a mother. Bucky liked it because he could feed his son directly, an act that he found both soothing and life changing, for it allowed him precious alone time with his son.

On this night, when Georgie’s cries woke them both, Bucky put his hand on Lisa’s.

“I’ll feed him,” he whispered. “You sleep.”

“You’re a good husband, Bucky,” she murmured, already slipping back into that dreamy state she had been in.

“I try,” he whispered back, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Stepping out of the bed, he picked up his T-shirt, but didn’t put it on. Instead, he held it in his hand, already knowing that Georgie liked the feeling of his father’s warmer than normal skin on his. The small night light beside the crib illuminated the little boy as he kicked at the sleeping bag he was secured into. The thatch of thick dark hair that he was born with was still there, but Bucky was sure it was already growing. Every day he looked at it and could swear that there was more of it. Perhaps it was time to compare the pictures of Georgie after his birth to how he was now and see if there was a difference.

“Hey, my little man,” he said, soothingly, as he unsnapped the straps of the sleeping bag.

That sleeping bag alone was certainly different than how babies were put to bed when Rebecca was born. Babies then were wrapped up so that they could barely move, then tucked under the bedclothes of their cribs. But now these body sleeping bags were recommended; enclosing the baby just enough to make them feel secure, while keeping them warm but free of the possibility of becoming tangled in any sheets. He lifted Georgie out, cradling him in his left arm, then stepping over to the change table. Unsnapping the snaps of the sleeper, Bucky felt around the edge of the diaper, confirming it was wet. He laid his little boy down and uncovered his legs, removing the wet diaper, then replacing it with a clean one before refastening everything up.

“There, that feels better, doesn’t it?” he asked his son, kissing him on the cheek as he balanced him against his shoulder. “Let’s get something to eat, hmm?”

The soft gurgles from Georgie said plenty and Bucky smiled as he went downstairs with him. He pulled the bottle warmer forward and took one of the prepared bottles of supplement out of the fridge, placing it in the device and turning it on. As they waited, he went over to the window and raised the blinds. He always checked the area before he turned the lights on, something that he needed to do for his own sense of security. His excellent night vision didn’t pick up any movement and when he checked with Friday, it confirmed what he already knew. No one was out there watching or waiting. The sound of the bottle warmer reaching its desired temperature reached him, and he returned to the kitchen. Lifting the bottle out of the device he shook it lightly and swirled it around to make sure the heat was distributed evenly throughout the liquid, then he shook a few drops out onto his right wrist, confirming it wasn’t too hot.

“Friday, turn on the lamp beside the rocking chair,” he said aloud as he moved into the living room.

It came on at half illumination, the AI already knowing he was feeding Georgie. Sitting down he cradled the anxious baby, whose sense of smell could already detect the scent of the supplement. A steady whimper for the bottle stopped only when Bucky finally placed it in his son’s mouth, replaced by a sound of complete contentment.

“There we go, food, glorious food,” he smiled. “Now, where were we? That’s right I was telling you about the day I met your Uncle Sam.” Georgie’s dark eyes looked up at his father’s. “I had pulled the steering wheel out of his car from where I was perched on top. He was scared, but your Uncle Steve had a plan. He always had a plan. He broke the car door, pulled your Uncle Sam onto his lap, along with the Black Widow then he pushed against the door and let it carry them onto the roadway. Sam fell off after a bit and rolled hard onto the surface, but he was up right away. Then he ran back to his car and found his wings, put them on, and got right back into the fight. He was so brave. Remember that, Georgie. Someday, when you find your Sam, he’ll be a regular human, but he will be capable of so many things.”

A smile formed on his son’s face as he told him that. It was important that Georgie knew that even with his physical differences, he would find a friend as good and loyal as Sam had been to him, someone he could depend upon.

“Sam was afraid of me that day, but he still tried to keep me from hurting anyone, and he kept me from shooting my best friend, Uncle Steve. Even though it took him a while to trust me and even after I kept pushing him away, he kept after me and we finally found a way to be friends, best friends now. So, let’s talk about the good things I have now.” Another smile was his encouragement. “There’s your mom. Some days I still can’t believe how I met her. Wasn’t even looking and suddenly there she was like an angel had been sent just for me.”

He stopped for a moment, remembering how he first saw her at a farmer’s market in Brooklyn. Sam was visiting and they went to the farmer’s market for fresh seafood so that he could make jambalaya. She was buying oranges at a fruit stall, and one fell, rolling along the ground towards him. He picked it up and came forward with it as she looked up and their eyes met.

“Hello,” she said, smiling, then noticed the orange in his hand. “Is that one of mine?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Doesn’t seem to have bruised from the fall.” He handed it to her, taking forever to remove his gloved hand from her proximity. “I’m Bucky.”

“Lisa.”

“That’s Sam.”

She smiled at Sam then looked back at Bucky. Neither said anything while Sam just smiled at both of them. Then he shook his head in amusement and went to look for more ingredients. Somehow, Bucky asked her to join them for dinner and she said yes. After giving her his address, he rejoined Sam but watched as she walked away, even when she turned back to look at him.

“Oh, she likes you,” said Sam. “She likes you a lot.”

“I like her, too,” said Bucky. “There’s something about her that just ….”

Georgie squirmed at that moment and Bucky looked down at his son, seeing the bottle was empty.

“Sorry, buddy, I was lost in a memory there,” he said, as he put the bottle on the table and lifted his son onto his shoulder, while patting his back. “Remembering how I found your mom does that to me.” He stood up and started walking around. “Still don’t really know what she saw in me that day, but she came to dinner, and I never laughed so much as I did that night. We ate all the food, drank the bottle of wine I bought and the bottle of wine she brought. Then she stayed over, and we didn’t even do anything, even though we wanted to. We waited until Sam went back to Delacroix.”

Georgie burped and Bucky switched him so that he was cradled in one arm while he picked up the bottle to return it to the kitchen for cleaning in the morning.

“When you get old enough, I’ll have a talk with you about that,” he smiled. Georgie squealed a little. “That’s how I feel about it sometimes, buddy.”

The baby boy was wide awake, so Bucky asked Friday to play some soothing music. They walked around, looking at the pictures on the wall, the books on the bookshelves and even went to the bathroom to look at each other in the mirror. There was still no sign of Georgie getting sleepy. Heading to the closet Bucky found a thick fleece onesie that they used to take their son outside on cooler days. Pulling his boots and a jacket out, he returned to where he dropped his T-shirt and laid Georgie on the couch, while he quickly put the extra clothes on himself. He zipped him into the fleece and made sure his head was covered. Then he picked up the baby and headed to the door.

“Friday, Georgie, and I are going outside for a little bit,” he announced. “If you see anything flash the outdoor lights.”

“Will do, Sergeant Barnes,” said the AI. “The outside temperature is 66° and the breeze is approximately 3 miles per hour.”

Opening the door, they stepped out into the night and walked onto the gravel roadway. They followed it to a small pond that allowed them enough space to view the night sky. For several long minutes, Bucky looked up at it, still amazed that they could see the stars they could.

“When I was a little boy, we lived in Brooklyn. Even though it was a borough in New York City it was still small and quiet enough that I could see a lot of the same stars that we’re seeing here. I would look up at them and wonder if they had planets around them, just like the Sun has planets around it. Did you know the Sun is a star?”

Georgie was watching him as he spoke and looked up. His hand came up, enclosed in the thick fleece of the onesie, and drew his father’s attention onto him. Even though Bruce said it would be a while before Georgie could see beyond this close contact between them, the smile on his face was all the proof Bucky needed that his son knew that he, Bucky Barnes, was his father. Even in the dark, the intense gaze that the baby was giving him filled him with a sense of awe.

“You have so much to look forward to,” he whispered. “You have me and your mom, Uncle Sam, Uncle Bruce, both Uncle Petes, Aunty Kate and Aunty Yelena, Uncle Joaquin, Uncle Thor. There are so many people that care about you and will be there for you, teaching you, loving you, showing you all sorts of things. You’ll learn to read and write, and this ….” Bucky gestured to the night sky. “This will be waiting for you to explore. I believe that with all my heart. I don’t care if you become an Avenger or not, because what’s important is what’s inside, here.” Bucky placed his palm on Georgie’s chest. “I want you to become a good man, which is why we named you after my father. Everyone thought I would name you Steve, and Uncle Sam wanted me to name you after him, but I always knew my first son would be named after my dad. He had his problems, but I know he loved me and believed in me. He would have thought the world of you. Your middle name, Edward is after your mom’s dad. He’s a good man, too, and when he comes to visit, I want you to give him as much love as you’ve already given to me and your mom. Can you do that, Georgie?”

The little boy gurgled, and tapped Bucky on the face with his onesie-covered hand again. Placing his own hand over it, Bucky kissed it, then buried his face close into Georgie’s neck, taking in the unique scent that he already recognized as him. Another squeal erupted from the baby’s mouth, making Bucky laugh at the absolute joy he felt at that moment. He looked around him in the dark then lifted George up to the sky, just like when Rafiki offered the baby Simba to the assembled animals in The Lion King.

“This is my son, George Edward Barnes,” he announced. “I’m asking the universe to keep watch over him and help him to grow up strong and good.” Lowering him, he gazed at his son’s bright eyes. “I hope your mom didn’t see that. She’ll never let me live that down.”

Georgie sneezed, making Bucky decide it was time to turn in. They returned to the house, and he toed off his boots at the door. Sitting them both down on the couch he removed his son’s fleece onesie, then his own jacket. Checking the diaper, he went upstairs to the nursery and changed his son again. Then he sat on the rocking chair with him and told him all the children’s stories he could remember, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing. It must have worked because eventually Georgie’s eyes drooped, then closed and he was asleep.

For some time, Bucky sat there just watching this little boy who had changed everything about his life in the month he had been alive. He was a father now, responsible for another person’s life. Even though there would be times when he was on mission, he already knew he would be Face Timing Lisa and Georgie at least once a day. His heart was here with these two people and until he was under the same roof as they were, he would be incomplete. Envisioning the days when he would teach Georgie to play catch, or ride a bike, or go camping out in the wilderness and really look at the stars together, he took a deep breath and hoped he was worthy of the love this child was already giving him.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, in an almost inaudible whisper. “I would die for you, Georgie. In a second, I would put myself into the line of fire if it meant keeping you safe and alive. But even more, I will live for you, too. My love for you is unconditional. You’ll always have it. There may be times when we disagree, and even ….” He took in a deep shaky breath. “Even if we argue about something, that love will never stop. That’s my promise to you, my son, my dear beautiful boy.”

Gently, he raised him to his lips and kissed him on the forehead. A contented sleep sound came out of the baby and Bucky lifted himself up from the rocking chair. Sliding Georgie back into the sleeping bag, he snapped him in, then stood at the doorway looking at him for a moment before he closed the door, leaving it open just a crack. He returned to the bedroom and slid under the sheets, next to Lisa who had curled into herself because he, her personal heater, wasn’t there. As soon as she felt his presence, she covered him with her arms and legs, before pressing her face into his neck.

“You were gone a long time,” she said sleepily.

“He wouldn’t go back to sleep, so I took him outside.”

She opened one eye. “Did you do the Simba thing?” He didn’t answer but she could feel his smile in the dark. “You did. You’re such a nerd.”

“He likes it. He listens to me. It’s a bonding moment.”

“Okay, I get it. You want as much time with him as you can. That’s understandable.”

He tightened his arm around her and kissed her on the head.

“I want all the time with him and you, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Fair enough.” She nuzzled into his neck. “I love you. You’re a wonderful husband and a great dad.”

“Thank you. I love you, too. You’re an incredible wife and mother. By the time we’re ready to have another, we’ll be really good at this.”

This time, Lisa raised her face to his and kissed him on the lips. It was going to be another couple of weeks before they could resume their normal bedtime activities but both of them almost purred at how the kiss made them feel and risked another, deeper and sultrier version. With a sigh, Bucky kissed her on the forehead and tightened his hold. For now, this was perfect. They were happy.

One Shots Masterlist

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