#stevebucky crying hours open

[winterxfrost]

• What if - episode 3 spoilers

so apparently, the first thing bucky remembers is the coney island .. a place he used to visit with steve .. makes me think that he probably would have had remembered steve multiple times before he was forced into absolute submission .. dont mind me, i'm gonna go cry

[quinnhayden]

Not only did @ghostlymoosh rick roll me, but then she sent me the saddest fucking Bucky tiktok. I said I would repay her angst in kind. This is my payback. 😌

This is an AU based off some fucking fantastic stevebucky fics I’ve read where Steve doesn’t know Bucky is the Winter Soldier. I actually have a decent chunk of this AU written out, but I go hot and cold with working on it.

tl;dr the boys fell off the train and Quinn put down the plane. She wakes up in the future to find out she and her surprise pregnancy were preserved. The boys free themselves from Hydra but are too chicken shit to face Quinn until Natasha calls in a favor to have them protect Quinn and her two babies. Identity porn and regular porn and angst ensue!

Quinn’s on the couch in the early hours of dawn. The sun’s not even up yet. She took a shower to wash the sweat away and heat herself up, but this is that familiar chill that sinks down to the bone and doesn’t go away for long time. Patience with herself can only extend so far. She’s stretched so thin and she’s about to snap, she knows. She digs the heels of her hands against her eye sockets, trying to press the tears away. The nightmares are back and the exhaustion is overwhelming her. When she thinks about opening the window, inviting in the Winter and Summer soldiers that stand watch, she has to resist because that’s not their mission. Their mission is to keep Quinn and her babies safe—no more, no less. It makes her so much lonelier and, God help her, that makes her so much guiltier.

The door to her bedroom door opens. She bites back the harsh demand for Abbie to get back in bed. It isn’t healthy for Abbie to lash out when she’s overwhelmed and it wouldn’t be fair to Abbie for Quinn to preach something she doesn’t practice. She wipes at her eyes, knowing it would be even more unfair to dump her problems on her baby, and forces a little smile when Abbie comes into view.

“I’m sorry I hit you, momma.” Abbie’s voice cracks. She hangs her head, long dark hair hiding her face, and Quinn watches her little shoulders shake as she starts to cry. She clenches her tiny fists and slaps them over her eyes, being the same as her momma, trying to scrub away the tears. “I’m really, really, really sorry.”

“I forgive you, baby girl,” Quinn replies quietly and scoots to the edge of the couch, getting closer to Abbie. “In the morning, you can tell Bran that you’re sorry for trying to hit him, too. That sound good?” Abbie nods miserably, sobs starting to get louder. “Honey, do you want a hug? You want to come up here and sit with momma a little while?” Another nod, but Abbie doesn’t move, she’s so overwhelmed. Quinn moves to haul her baby up in her arms and plops back on the couch. Abbie’s limbs wrap around her like a little baby octopus and she shoves her face in the crook of Quinn’s neck. Quinn rubs her back soothingly. “I know, honey, I know. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Quinn feels the collar of her shirt getting wet with tears and Abbie’s rubbing her nose to wipe it. “I’m sorry, mommy.” Her voice is muffled. “Please don’t leave us. I promise I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Ah. So, that’s what it was. There’s been more on Abbie’s mind than she’s let on about. Because Abbie’s had more emotional outbursts than Bran, but she’s never pleaded for Quinn to stay. Quinn cards her fingers through Abbie’s soft hair. “Baby, why would you ever think momma wants to leave you?”

“They took Liz’s mommy to the hospital. She was too sad,” Abbie chokes out. “Liz said her mommy wanted to go to heaven with her daddy. Daddies are your soulmates, but I don’t want you to go to heaven with them. I wanna make you happy. Are you happy with us, momma?”

Jesus Christ, she should’ve known. Liz, one of Abbie’s classmates, lost her old man to cancer. Ellen, his wife, had been and still is nearly comatose. Quinn never stopped to think about whether they were soulmates or not. Poor little Liz—one parent dead and the other desperate to be there with him. “Abbie—” Quinn breathes out shakily. “Baby, you and Bran make me the happiest momma in the whole world.” She clutches her baby closer, like that can keep away the shame.

Abbie’s little fists clench around Quinn’s shirt. “Love you, mommy.”

“I love you, too.”

—•—••—•—

Time with her babies help keep Quinn in the here and now. With Abbie curled against her, breaths steady and even now that she’s asleep, the comforting scent of her child—it’s all become a sort of lullaby for Quinn now. This is the kind of warmth that can chip away at the ice around her mind. Not always, though. Almost six years later, Abbie and Bran still sometimes make it worse and she hates herself for that. She’ll always hate herself for that.

It’s another one of those nights. That’s why she doesn’t try to fight it when Winter and Summer slip inside the apartment and Summer gently takes Abbie away from Quinn. Numbly, Quinn watches and notes that for such feared former Hydra assassins, they’re extremely careful with the babies. If she was out of the picture, Quinn thinks, then they could take off those masks and live a good life with Abbie and Bran. The twins love Winter and Summer, anyway. Things would be better.

And maybe she needs to prove that. It could be the reason why she confesses, “I didn’t want them.” She never has said that out loud. The only reason she does now is because, when she closes her eyes, she can pretend. Pretend that it’s Steve and Bucky here with her. Because Winter has dark hair and stormy eyes and Summer…even if it’s dark and not that sunshine blonde, it’s still there, and his eyes are so, so blue.

“You’re tired,” Winter interrupts softly, kindly. “Go to bed.”

She’s mechanical as she continues on. “I came out of the ice and they told me that, somehow, I was pregnant. They said it was a miracle. It was supposed to be.” She pulls her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I hated them,” she admits hoarsely. “I hated my babies and I hated my soulmates. When Steve and Bucky died, my soul went with them. It felt like a graveyard inside my body, but those motherfuckers put life there instead. It’s like they knewthat I’d need a reason to live, but they didn’t think it through. They never did.”

Quinn is both here and not here. It feels like she’s slipping away. “I was so bitter for so long. I got really low and it was even worse after the birth. Postpartum depression, the doctors call it, and they told me it’s common and okay. Later, Natasha told me the doctors actually expected it. The rates that a new mother will have it skyrocket if she’s a recent soul widow. That’s why SHIELD kept me close so close the whole time. They said it was because who knows what the fuck will happen when a super soldier is pregnant and that I needed to get up to date with the times, but…they wanted to make sure I was safe. They wanted to make sure my babies would be safe.”

Winter crouches down next to the couch, Summer takes a seat next to her, and they each wrap a hand around her ankle. “If it’s common then it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Summer whispers. “You’ve read reports about the things we’ve done. Say it was under Hydra all you want, but we still do horrible things to the people that put collars on us. You went through so much. You’re allowed to grieve.”

“And you can say that all you want, but it’s bullshit.” She’s yanked back down to reality. There have been tears on her cheeks the whole time. She tries to be furious with herself yet all she can manage is the grief that Summer’s allowed her. “I didn’t want a goddamn thing to do with my babies. I didn’t want to live for them. No matter how much I try to make it up to them every single day, no matter how much love I’ve got for them now, no matter how I’d die for them, it doesn’t change that there was a time that I wanted to die because of them.” She puts her face in her hands to muffle her sobs. Like mother, like daughter. “I never wanted to be Captain America, but I need to do this for them. For Bran and Abbie. For Steve and Bucky. But it’s so fucking hard and I’m so fucking lonely. My soulmates should be here to watch their babies grow and they’re not.”

[voxofthevoid]

I posted 2,622 times in 2021

364 posts created (14%)

2258 posts reblogged (86%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 6.2 posts.

I added 2,212 tags in 2021

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Longest Tag: 135 characters

#but lying in bed for 3 hours unable to walk 5 ft to the bathroom to take piss cannot be solved by breaking the issue into little tasks

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Hsifjfndldmnxnchdiodkfbskkfbdjekdlcvxjxjx

91 notes • Posted 2021-04-14 08:40:06 GMT

#4

A/B/O Fic Teaser (NSFW)

Bucky howls. His body’s liquid fire under Steve, around him, and there are nails on his arms, his shoulders, tearing open skin and leaving salt to sting, but Steve’s a thing of want and violence, all of him reduced to the wet, searing heat clenching around his cock. Bucky’s gushing slick, wetter with every thrust, and Steve’s no better, dripping precome, knot pulsing, gut tight as he shudders on the edge.

He turns his face, pressing it into Bucky’s leg, dragging in deep, greedy breaths. His scent’s thick here, from the glands at the crease of his thighs. It runs electric through Steve’s system, burning his blood, and his knot hurts, wrapped in Bucky’s tight heat. Steve tries to warn him, but all that escapes is a shout, ragged and breaking on Bucky’s name. A sobbing cry answers him, but if Bucky says something, Steve doesn’t hear, ears ringing with the rush of his own blood.

His knot pops, snug inside Bucky’s flesh, throbbing as the heat of him clenches tight around it, locking them together. Steve grinds into him helplessly, riding the wave of his climax, trying to fuck in deeper, carve his claim into Bucky’s tender flesh.

91 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 02:02:40 GMT

#3

Me: I love fandom!

Also me, after comments like this: I hate fandom!

See the full post

139 notes • Posted 2021-06-16 18:01:37 GMT

#2

Fandom Etiquette 101: Don’t Be a Dick in the Comment Box

Actually, just don’t be a dick, period, but if you must, then don’t do it in the comment box.

I wouldn’t say I have a thick skin. Things don’t roll off me. I get hurt, I get irritated, and I get incandescently angry.

Thing is, I also have a certain amount of faith in my skills—writing skills, in this case—that has been cultivated by roughly a decade of practice and the experience that comes along with it. I am also not under the impression that my work lacks flaws. Some of these flaws are born of inattention because I write for fun in my free time—time that’s growing more and more sparse as school turned to college turned to grad school turned to a full-time job. Plus, I’ve long since accepted that artistic growth is a never-ending process.

So even if I don’t have a thick skin, if someone shits on my work, I won’t stop writing or doubt myself. I’ll just get royally pissed at the little shit who has the audacity to come into my goddamned yard and tell me how to mow my goddamned lawn.

A lot of writers react the way I do. Others don’t. Be it because they’re newer, more nervous, rejection sensitive, or just have different personalities, the fact remains that a lot of writers will be disheartened, devastated, and/or discouraged by negative feedback. There’s nothing wrong with that.

No writer should have to deal with people being assholes about something they created out of love and shared for free so others sharing that love can partake. Fanfic is free in terms of money, but a ton of emotion and labor goes into it. My work involves staring at MS Word for a minimum of eight hours a day to poke at and pick apart language; it’s not easy to do it for a couple more hours to write and polish that writing. Now, that’s my choice, and one I make because I damn well want to, but the point is that it’s a great deal of effort.

A large part of what makes it worth it is the fandom. Yes, I write for myself, because there are stories in me that want out, and no, I won’t let others dictate  what I write or the way I write it. But reader engagement is a gift—a treasured one. The interactions, the conversations, the sense of a larger community—all of that means a lot to me. I think most, though likely not all, fic writers will agree on that. For me, every Ao3 email heralding a comment brings with it a thrilling jolt of pleasure.

But the sweetness of that jolt turns sour very fast if the comment in question contains negativity. And I do mean contain. A comment doesn’t have to be wholly hateful or dismissive to ruin a writer’s day. Criticism sandwich is all well and good to those who’ve asked for constructive criticism, but to those that haven’t, that sandwich will just taste like shit, regardless of how delicious the padding. Tumblr has many long, in-depth discussion posts about unsolicited concrit, so I won’t rehash everything here. Suffice to say that not all writers are using fanfic as practice for “real” writing, nor do all of us aim to actively improve. And the ones who do want constructive criticism often have trusted betas or writing groups for that purpose. Unsolicited criticism dropped into the comment section of a published work isn’t as constructive as the commenter fancies it to be.

And then there are those comments that don’t bother with the sandwich method or any niceties. I’ve seen plenty of these in both my works and those of others, and they range from comically insulting to polite but infuriating. Honestly, I find the former to be easier to handle—if someone’s being an asshole in my inbox, it’s simple enough to tell them to fuck off. The nicely phrased ones are trickier, for obvious reasons. But fact is, if someone has read thousands of words and can only leave a comment pointing out some drawback— for instance, a typo, some factual inaccuracy, OOCness, or even continuity errors—then the problem lies with the reader, not the writer. But the writer, who’s often the one more emotionally attached to and invested in their craft, is the one who bears the brunt of the damage.

They shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.

So, to reiterate, don’t be a dick in the comment box. If you have nothing nice to say, hush and click that pretty red X. If the writer hasn’t asked for concrit, don’t give it. If you liked the story but have the burning urge to tell the writer everything they got wrong, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself some hard questions.

163 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 01:38:36 GMT

#1

Editing and Proofreading Services

Humans and gentlefolk,

Due to recent developments at my company that caused it to change from a fairly decent workplace to a dysfunctional mess, I have handed in my notice and am attempting to switch entirely to freelance editing. It’s easier said than done though, and since tumblr is my only social media platform, I figured I’d post here first.

I’ll edit anything and everything—theses and dissertations, journal articles, novels, short stories, blog posts, etc. All genres and any level of mature content are welcome.

These are my rates (in USD) for the services offered:

Proofreading: $0.02 per word

Editing: $0.04 per word 

Manuscript Review: $0.03 per word

Formatting: $0.005 per word

For further details on what each of these entails, please visit the pricing page on my newborn blog. You can DM me with any questions or for clarifications. You can also email me.

I offer sample edits of 300 to 1000 words (depending on the document type and length) so that you can get an idea of how I edit before committing.

Payments are accepted via PayPal. Once you place an order, I'll get in touch with you to discuss and finalize the finer details.

And last, but certainty not least, a mountain of awe and gratitude to @kocuria​ for creating that beautiful logo. Her art gets more stunning each time I blink, and I can’t thank her enough for this gift 💗

358 notes • Posted 2021-11-16 01:38:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[cantabile-l]

Smut fic prompts F3: "Knowing someone else can hear". An original Stevebucky pairing of your choosing.

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to be this lucky of an asshole. Here he is - after all that the world had thrown at him -  lounging at a luxury resort island with a - no, his - breathtakingly gorgeous young man by his side.

Bucky Barnes is a young engineer who had been netted by SI’s efficient talent-hunting streams that quickly snatches up the best and brightest in the country’s leading post-secondary institutions. And being the lucky asshole that he is, Steve had managed to snatch up this bright young man for himself as well as the fates would have it in a number of chance meetings in the Tower. And if he only happened to find out that Bucky had been anointed by Stark to be his informal protege himself, after Bucky had already snuck himself into Steve’s bed? Well Stark’s mock outrage would be his own problem. For all Steve was concerned, he had the man of his dreams with him every day and the sweetest boy under him every night. 

Shaking himself out of his memories while recalling the joys of the past few months, Steve focuses on the now, as they take a sunset stroll hand-in-hand in the cooling evening air of the island. 

Every year Stark hosts an extravagant company retreat by buying out a private resort for an entire week. He calls it “gotta show my R&D nerds how to be cool and party somehow” as he wandered around the poolside, pushing his own automatically cooled bar cart and making drinks for his employees. Pepper, on the side, explained to Steve that so many staff worked ridiculous lab hours and seldom took full advantage of their vacation days, combining professional development workshops to justify a week of all-expenses paid vacation helped boost up morale and staff well-being. That made more sense to Steve than whatever Tony was trying to explain, over the thumping bass that was also built into the bar cart he was pushing while brandishing a t-shirt gun. 

Steve and Bucky are slowly winding back to their suite as they walk around the resort, excitedly pointing out activities they want to try the next couple of days (“scuba-diving, Steve, scuba-diving! - Personally, I think I’ve spent enough time under the ocean, Buck. - “You were in the Arctic, Steve. Bet you wouldn’t have minded 70 years in this ocean when you see the coral reefs.” -  I appreciate the enthusiasm, baby, but I somehow doubt that.”)

They leisurely make their way into their suite but as as soon as Steve kicks their door closed behind them, Bucky is swooped up into his arms and Steve is in their bedroom with just a few strides, crossing the large living area with the last rays of sunset streaming in behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He tosses Bucky onto his back who bounces once, twice, on the mattress with a squeal before Steve is climbing on top after him, grinning and caging him in while capturing his lips in a kiss. “Sun-kissed lips” had to only exist in saccharine romance novels, he thought, but maybe that was before he tasted Bucky’s lips, slightly chapped from a full day in the sun. Or maybe his lips would always taste intoxicating in a brand new way, every time they kiss. Either way, he barely brings himself to separate from Bucky, panting in the same air, slightly breathless as they look at each other with dopey smiles.  

“So... “ Bucky starts as he twists a finger into the linen collar of Steve’s short-sleeve button-up, “I did some shopping for this trip, Daddy…” 

His baby is transparent for Steve to read at this point, in all the time they’ve spent glued together over the course of their relationship, but he’s still happy to play coy and indulge him. "I can see that, sweetheart. I gotta say, your ass does look fantastic in these new shorts you bought with my credit card", pinching Bucky's bottom for effect.

"No, daddy." Steve grins and enjoys the little swat he gets in return for his pinch "I got somethin' a lil' extra special for the pool. But I wanted you to get a sneak peek first"

Buck shimmies out from underneath him and with a look through his eyelashes that never fails to quicken Steve's pulse, he pushes Steve to sit back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. Bucky sits back on his heels to unbutton his shorts before unzipping them slowly. Steve catches a glimpse of a dark blue before Bucky's kneeling up to push his shorts the rest of the way down. His breath catches as his eyes zero in on what Bucky’s shorts were hiding. Steve knows they’re at sea-level but it sure doesn’t feel that way from how he’s sure he’s light-headed from blood rushing south.

First of all, there's absolutely no way Steve is letting this bikini ever leave the room. It's a tiny deep sapphire blue triangle that barely covers - let alone contains - Bucky's package. Not only that, but the bikini seems to be held up by just lil strings tied into two bows on each side of his hips. Under his hands that seem to just have moved to Bucky's hips on their own, he can feel that just a snag or tug on those simple knots would undo and send the scrap of material fluttering down. 

A low growl escapes his lips as he grips Bucky’s hips tight and drags him in closer onto his lap, thumbing the strings that are already straining to stay tied.��

"Oh sweetheart - look atchu. Now you got another thing coming if you think there's any way I'm letting you outta here in these, struttin’ around the pool deck showin' off what's not yours to flash around, that what you wanted? ‘Cause these" - Steve cups a possessive hand between Bucky’s legs and grips the other around his neck, pulling him close so their lips  are just breaths apart - “these belong to Daddy, don’t they?” squeezing just a bit to make his hold felt. His hands go straight to the strings on Bucky’s hips and he was right -  just a slight tug has the knots undoing, exposing his half-chubbed up cock to Steve’s gaze. “Mhm, this lil’ cock right here, these cute lil’ balls,” fondling them in his large hands, “these aren’t yours, you know better. You gonna tell me who they belong to, sugar? Whose are these again?” as he grips just a little tighter. 

Bucky flinches at the firmer grip and his hands fly to Steve’s shoulders to steady himself - “Yours, Daddy, it’s all yours” he gasps out. 

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he pecks a kiss on Bucky’s lips, “that’s right.” His fingers roam from Bucky’s cock that’s quickly filling out around to his back, “and this hole? Whose is this, Bucky?” His fingers circle lightly around the tight pucker. 

“Also yours, Daddy, oh please. I need-” Bucky’s hips are rocking into Steve’s now as he tries to grind in his lap and find some friction for his erection that’s now just starting to leak against Steve. 

“Hm, I think I know what you need, baby. Think you need your Daddy to remind you who these,” his finger presses harder against Bucky’s hole, “belong to again so you don’t forget.” landing another kiss on his lips before flipping them over. 

The prep is quick and dirty, the leisurely pace of the evening quickly replaced with a need for more and more. Steve’s third finger slips in with the first two and is thrusting them up deep, swallowing Bucky’s moans with open-mouthed kisses, their tongues slickly licking against each other like Steve’s fingers. It’s not long before Steve judges that Bucky is ready, and he himself is more than ready. His own cock is painfully hard next to Bucky’s leaking tip and Steve guides Bucky’s legs up, as he guides his slick cock into the tight, wet heat inside him that always steals his breath away.

“Oh sugar, that’s right. Always opening up so beautifully for Daddy, so good. So good for me.” Bucky’s eyes screw up tight as Steve takes just a moment to let them both adjust and catch their breath. Then, Steve begins moving, slowly for just a few thrusts, slower than what Bucky would like judging by his impatient sounds, before Steve hitches up his legs and really starts leaning into it and fucking his sweet boy like he deserves. Bucky’s gasps and whimpers that escape his lips just rile Steve up even more, speeding up his hips. . 

“C’mon, baby. Give it to me, all those sweet little noises you give your Daddy. Show your Daddy you’re feeling good. We’ve got the whole floor in this place, remember? No one to hear you except me, sugar.” Steve angles his hips until the moans that Bucky can’t even try to hold back lets him know he’s hitting the right spot, and keeps fucking mercilessly into his body as he watches in awe at Bucky falling apart under his touch. Sure enough, Bucky just lets his jaw slack open, long moans and high whimpers falling from his mouth between pants and gasps of pleasure. Before long, Steve’s hearing the telltale “ngh, ngh” sounds punctuating his every thrust and he knows Bucky is close, as is he, the white hot sparks of pleasure shooting down his spine prompting him to drive ever deeper and harder into him. Steve wraps a hand around Bucky’s cock and just the mere touch has Bucky crying out and shooting off, come splattering up his front. His tight walls flutter and clench down on Steve’s cock and he’s helpless but to fall into his orgasm alongside Bucky. 

When his eyes clear and their breaths even out, Steve gently pulls out, tenderly brushing a strand of long hair out of Bucky’s face as Bucky grimaces at the empty feeling where he was just so full. Collapsing to his side, Steve rolls Bucky with him and peppers his face with a few more kisses (there’s never enough kisses). 

“Well good thing I brought another pair of swim shorts too, since that didn’t pan out too well, huh?” Bucky cheekily says with a smirk. Steve laughs and rolls over to his other side, fishing for something inside his bag on the floor that he had stashed earlier while Bucky wasn’t looking. 

“Nope - and to make sure you don’t forget your lesson,” Steve reaches behind Bucky and gently works the plug inside and past his undoubtedly tender rim. Bucky lets out a whine, hips seeming confused on whether to move closer or away from the object pressing inside him, “Really, Steve? Is this necessary?” whimpering as the plug’s widest slips past and settles in nicely. 

Steve’s wearing a smirk of his own now. “Sure is, baby. Now c’mon, let’s get cleaned up in that jacuzzi on the balcony and I’ll make it up to you and get you feeling good with my hands again.” 

The air was getting chillier now as the evening settled in and breezes came through the windows left open by housekeepers, so Bucky shrugged and followed. It spoke to the extravagance of this villa, reserved only for Tony and the Avengers who tagged along, that each suite occupied the whole floor with a balcony that stretched out with a view of the sea which you could enjoy from your own private jacuzzi. 

Also considerably perked up by the promise of getting Steve’s hands all over him again, Bucky pads onto the balcony where Steve’s lifting the cover off the tub. The water is comfortably warm but not overly hot as they climb in. They take a moment to just bask in the rumbling water, eyes closed and contented sighs, as the jets work their magic on any lingering tension in their muscles. Before long though, Steve finds himself with a lap that’s slowly being taken over by a wet wriggly Buck and peeks an eye open. 

“I was promised something, Daddy”, Bucky somehow manages to pout yet maintain an innocent look at the same time. Chuckling, Steve pulls him in close, cradling his head into the crook of his neck., hands sweeping up and down and caressing every inch of skin he could get his fingers on. If there was any tension even left in Bucky’s body, it seeps out with every pass of Steve’s broad hands. 

 “I did, didn’t I? Well I can’t hold back on my sweet boy ever.” He pecks another kiss on Bucky’s forehead and sweeps his hands down his back again, but this time pausing a moment at the base of his spine, searching-. Steve grins when Bucky jolts wildly, water splashing over the tub side, as a buzz comes alive inside him and through him and he cries out, barely muffled by Steve’s shoulder. “What the shi-- Steve!” 

“I did say I’d get you feeling good again, didn’t I, sweetheart?” 

“You said with your hands! I thought you meant like a nice jacuzzi massage, not-” his words breaking off into a moan as the unconscious movements of his hips budge the plug into a particularly good spot inside him. 

“Oh you’re right, I did say my hands, too. That’s my bad, sugar. Here-” And Steve wraps his head around both their cocks, Bucky’s already hard again thanks to the relentless internal stimulation and all his wriggling had Steve most of the way there again already. 

Now Steve’s not exactly a sadist but it’s hard to keep the amusement off his face as Bucky flails and fails to keep the increasingly stressed sounds in, as Steve works their cocks with expert precision. Along with the plug vibrating mercilessly inside him and the rumbling of the water all around them, Bucky is quite helplessly trapped in an onslaught of sensation from every side. Steve is just working his hand over the sensitive head of Bucky’s dick when he freezes at the sound of a sliding door and a familiar voice in the balcony overhead. A balcony in the penthouse suite above them which means it can only belong to-

“Look Pepper, I know I said I’d get that report to the Board before we flew out but those old shits can wait a weekend. I’m sure they’re all on their yachts right now anyways, can’t we enjoy ourselves for just one night?”

Steve doesn’t hear Pepper’s response when his attention is torn away by the whimper that escapes Bucky, who’s smushed his face into Steve and has a hand plastered over his own mouth, practically vibrating with tension. He pulls Bucky’s hand away and tilts his head to look at him. 

“Hey, now… I thought you were being good for me? Thought I told you to not keep those pretty sounds from Daddy?” He whispers, into his ears, but carefully assessing Bucky’s face and eyes, waiting for their safe word or any signs of serious distress. 

When none comes, Steve keeps going, whispering into Bucky’s ears and efficiently jerking his hand along their cocks under the still rumbling water. “We’ll have to be quiet, now, sweet thing, but I still want to hear you so don’t hold back either. And not because Tony doesn’t need to know his little protégé loves his Daddy doing filthy things to him, oh no.” He chuckles, his hand moving faster and Bucky responds with a soft feminine whine into Steve’s ear. “It’s because these sweet noises you make, sugar, they’re all mine. And you know already that Daddy doesn’t share what’s his, doesn’t he?” His low voice mostly masked by the rumbling of the water and pump of the jacuzzi. 

Bucky’s hips are grinding into Steve’s lap now, little splashes of the water accompanying the soft whimpers he lets out into Steve’s neck, mindful to never let them get too loud. Steve registers the sliding door above them shutting in the back of his mind but he keeps going, whispering filthy sweet words into his boy’s ears. He’s not unaffected by the vibrations of the water jets around them, the wriggling of Bucky in his lap, and soon, Steve finds himself at the brink once more. 

He brings his hand that’s been holding Bucky tight to him down to the cleft of his ass and pushes on the base of the plug, pressing the vibrating toy straight into Bucky’s prostate. “Come, Buck, c’mon give it to me” and Bucky’s wail is barely muffled with the bite he lands onto the meat of Steve’s shoulders, the extra spark of sensation dragging Steve along with him into bliss. 

Deft fingers find their way down to the plug to switch it off as Bucky starts twitching and whimpering from oversensitivity and then those strong arms are wrapping around the slightly trembling younger man. “So good for me, sweetheart, so good for me. Are you alright?” Steve asks, a little concerned at the silence. Shifting back to take a look at Bucky’s face, he realizes that he’s shaking from silent laughter, barely holding it together.

“I can’t believe we did that, right beneath my boss” dissolving into silent giggles in Steve’s arms. In the cool seaside air of the night, Steve chuckles as well and continues soaking in the soothing currents of the hot water with Bucky, his sweet boy and loving boyfriend, in his arms.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LYNNE FROM YOUR PREMIER SOFTIE! LOVE YOU TO BITS AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A WHALE OF A DAY/YEAR LIKE I HAD A WHALE OF A TIME WRITING THIS. <3 <3 DON’T ASK I’M OUT OF THE JUICE. 

[winterxfrost]

BRING BACK STEVE ROGERS OF A UNIVERSE WHERE HE LOST A BUCKY HE LOVED AND WRECKED HAVOC IN HIS OWN UNIVERSE, TO THE BUCKY OF THIS UNIVERSE AND GIVE ME AN INTERGALACTIC LOVE STORY

MARVEL YOU HAVE ONE FUCKING JOB!

[winterxfrost]

don't give me hope, don't break me again please I have a very fragile stevebucky heart .. it's almost like I'm never going to recover from anything that stevebucky ever served me, I'm gonna take their crumbs and hope for the best

Bucky stops by the mention of steve's name and then looks like it has shifted something huge in him

and he is out there, don't know if out of custody he was kept in, or not, but looks like he found a strand of hope, IM GONNA GO CRY

[winterxfrost]

- the way he looks at him, I cannot do it anymore *cries*

[winterxfrost]

- it's just me missing them right after marvel dropped the Hawkeye trailer *heartbreaking noises*

[winterxfrost]

- they are in hopelessly love, the eyes say it all

[winterxfrost]

- let me hurt myself today, my heart needs it

[winterxfrost]

- nothing just them staring at the love of their lives

[winterxfrost]

- cause you're my flashlight

[winterxfrost]

- it still hurts the way it always did to me and to him too

[winterxfrost]

- my forever's falling down, wondering if you'd want me now ?

[winterxfrost]

- cause you're my flashlight

[winterxfrost]

- NAAH MARVEL YOU DID NOT JUST SNATCHED MY ONE COMFORT SCENE YET AGAIN