#the falcon and the winter soldier drabble

[multific]

Soft Hands, Heavy Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky tries to pull away, convinced he’s too broken to deserve love.

The rain had stopped, but Bucky hadn’t.

You found him on the rooftop, just after midnight.

His coat was too thin. His fists were clenched. His silence was louder than any thunder.

“You missed dinner,” you said gently.

He didn’t look at you.

You approached him slowly, the cold making you shiver.

You knew better than to touch him without warning, but gods, you wanted to. He looked like a man holding the world together by the edge of his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“You didn’t.” You paused. “But you’re scaring me, Bucky.”

That made him flinch.

Not at the fear but rather at the thought that he caused it.

“I shouldn’t be near you,” he said after a long moment, voice raw. “I thought I could. I thought maybe I was something new now. But I’m not. I still have… all of this inside me.”

He gestured to himself like he were something dirty. Something broken.

You stepped beside him, arms crossed tightly.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” you asked. “Do you think I don’t see it? The way you wake up sweating, the way your jaw clenches when someone walks too fast behind you. The way you keep apologising for being in the room?”

He turned toward you, pain carved into every line of his face.

“You deserve someone whole,” he said. “Someone who doesn’t look in the mirror and see a murderer. Someone who doesn’t count every good day like it’s borrowed time.”

You didn’t speak right away. Then you stepped in front of him and reached for his hand, his metal one.

He froze.

Then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours.

“You think I love you despite your scars?” you whispered. “No, Bucky. I love you because you still stayed kind. Because even with blood on your hands, you use them to hold me like I’m made of light.”

His throat worked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t.

“You think you’re hard to love,” you added, voice shaking. “But you make it the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

He looked at you then, and god, you saw all of it. The fear. The need. The way he wanted to believe you but didn’t know how.

And still, he leaned in.

His forehead touched yours. Cold skin to warm.

“I don’t know how to be this,” he whispered. “To be soft. To be loved.”

“You don’t have to know how.” Your lips brushed his. “Just don’t run from it.”

He kissed you then, hesitant at first, like it might burn him. Then deeper, like it was saving him. And maybe it was.

Because when he pulled back, something had shifted in his eyes.

Less pain. More wonder.

And when he pulled you into his chest, your head tucked beneath his chin, you felt it:

The rhythm of a heavy heart trying to beat softer.

Just for you.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[arathejedi394]

that meme of bucky with the twitter post saying "the winter soldier having flashbacks of gay sex and not knowing why"

“I think I’m gay,” Bucky announces abruptly.

Sam chokes on his beer. Bucky claps him on the back, looking pensively into the dark water. Sam gets a breath, then clears his throat several times before licking his lips.

“What makes you say that?” he asks casually.

“I remember having gay sex,” Bucky answers ponderously. “A lot.”

"A lot?" Sam repeats, now bewildered.

Bucky just nods slowly, his gaze distant. Sam blinks several times, wondering what the hell he's imagining.

“With who?” he demands, looking at him with eyebrows high on his forehead.

Bucky just frowns. “I don’t know. A couple of guys. A big one and a little one.”

Sam looks out at the water, too, mouthing under his breath about how fucking stupid this man can get. Then takes Bucky’s cigarette and drags on it. Bucky snatches it back.

“You’re not a super soldier,” he snaps. “No smoking, kid.”

“Sorry,” Sam replies. “I mean, about – About not remembering… Hm… Oof. That’s, uh, that’s rough, buddy.” He claps Bucky on the shoulder, glancing over his shoulder with a grimace for their friend, the one who was little but now is big and is now retired so he can paint large blue watercolors of some vague masculine figure over and over again, that friend. He faces the water again and blows out his breath. Idiots. Jesus Christ man.

Bucky sighs, wistful, then drags on the cigarette himself. The boat rocks behind them.

“Did I hear you say you remember having gay sex?” Steve calls from behind them.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at him. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “You know anything about that?”

Sam looks at Steve, raising his eyebrows. Steve’s lower lip wobbles for a second and then he just smiles.

“I’m sure you’ll remember,” he then says quietly.

Bucky nods, turning back. Sam drops his jaw at Steve, who just lowers his gaze and sits down on a bench, hands in his lap and head down. Like a kicked puppy. Sam blusters, half gesturing between the two of them, but Steve shoots him a glare and Bucky doesn't notice. Sam looks between the two of them for over a minute, just watching these two idiots standing five feet apart because they’re not gay.

“Okay,” Sam declares, “that’s it! I’ve had it up to HERE with the homoerotic tension on this boat!”

Bucky looks up, frowning. Steve jerks his head up, too, his eyes wide. Sam points with both hands at Steve, but looks at Bucky.

“He knows somethin’ about you being gay for sure!” he snaps. “Frankly, I think he knows more about it than you do! Double frankly! I know that for a mothafuckin' fact!”

Bucky opens his mouth, looking bewildered, then glances between Steve and Sam. “Huh?”

Sam slaps himself in the face with the hand not holding his beer. Bucky frowns at Steve. Steve blushes and looks towards the stern of the boat. Bucky suddenly gasps, jerking a hand up to point.

“I fucked you!” he shouts.

Steve blushes harder, bright red behind his beard, as he look down into his lap, then he nods, seeming speechless.

Sam smacks himself on the forehead again, making a face at their stupidity. Then Bucky shoves his cigarette back into his hand, and he storms right up to Steve and hauls him off the bench by the back of his shirt. Steve squeaks adorably for a man of his large size, but Bucky starts dragging him off the boat.

“Okay?” Sam calls after them as Steve stumbles to keep up with Bucky. “Bye, I guess?”

“Thanks!” Bucky shouts over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Steve says.

“I’m fucking your face in that alley over there, sweetheart,” Bucky announces. "Then I'm coming all over your beard."

“I did not need to hear that!” Sam shouts back. “Didn’t need to hear that! I expect to be both of y’all’s best man at your wedding! And the officiant! And I’mma give both of y’all away, too!” He turns, then pivots, jabbing his finger in their direction. “And it better be a destination wedding, gay ass dumbasses! I wanna go to Bali!”

Steve waves his middle finger behind him as he skips, eagerly, along behind Bucky down the pier. Sam shakes his head, turns, and puffs on the cigarette again.

“Gay ass dumbasses,” he mutters, “one looks over, the other’s already looking away. My ass.”

[saikiflm]

sambucky’s first encounter is very important to me because i can just imagine how flustered and embarrassed bucky gets whenever sam reminisces on the meeting.

When the kids ask the couple how they first met, Sam was already beaming to tell the story. Bucky knows that it’s one of Sam’s favorite story to tell but for him, as much as he’s thankful to whatever power above introduced him to this beautiful man he now calls his husband, he loathes this story. Only because of how much Sam likes to exaggerate the encounter and add in new details that surely wasn’t there last time and not because of how flustered and shy he gets when Sam describes how “badass” and “good looking” he was ripping that steering wheel from it’s hinges.

But when Bucky sees how soft Sam’s eyes get and how giddy and light his voice is—he falls in love all over again and wouldn’t wish to meet Sam any other way. So, with a small groan and a grin on his face he’s ready to hear whatever new detail and bask in his husband’s light that radiates off his skin as Sam tells the story of how they first met.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Perfect Gift

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, older!reader (50s)

Summary: you remember Bucky's birthday but he wants more than you give him.

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BUCKO.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It's a bit silly. A bit of extra effort feels like a lot. You're almost embarrassed at the thought of it. You should just keep it to yourself. Give it to someone else. You probably won't even see him. 

You stand at the tall lab table, one elbow planted as you hover your pen over the report. There's not much going on that day but it's still special. For him. He must have plans, certainly with someone else. Forget it, do your work.  

No one needs any stitching up so you'll stick with the usual. You still can't figure out what that thick blue sludge is. A venom that sticks to the skin like tar. Despite running it through almost every piece of equipment available to you, it remains mysterious and it wouldn't be too unusual to find it isn't an earthly substance. 

Sigh. The icing's going to melt. You're stupid. And too old to be. 

You cringe behind your hand as you lean your forehead into your palm. The door slides open from the other side and you sit up, the stool wobbling beneath you dangerously. You latch onto the table and steady the feet. 

Oh, it's him. Shoot. Despite the work you put into the surprise, you suddenly wish he'd stayed away. That he kept to his actual friends. 

"Hey," Bucky marches up to the end of the table. "You figure out that gas?" 

"Gas... er, oh yes," you perk up. Work is easy to talk about. It's what you know. They only thing you've ever known. "I'm surprised it didn't knock you out. You brought me an empty canister." 

"Serum," he shrugs, his vibranium arm flexing as if reminding you of who he is. How can you forget that? 

"Right, uh, about that--" 

"No more needles, doc. I heard you got enough samples from Hydra," he crosses his arms. Despite his warning, humour dimples in his cheek. 

"No, I wasn't..." you shake your head. "I was just thinking you could do eight hours on a treadmill while I monitor your levels." 

"You are insane," he scoffs and unfolds his arms. He rounds the table, dragging his metal fingertips over it. 

"Anyway, er, about that gas," you hop off the stool before he can reach you. "It's designed to inhibit neural processing. I mean, the immediate effects are typical. Unconsciousness but after that, it sticks around." You look at him and squint, "how are you feeling?" 

"As good as I ever do," he levels his hand and wiggles it, "middling." 

"Right," you exhale and tap your toe nervously. "Even... on your birthday?" 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and his eyes list away, "you remembered?" 

"I have a thing for dates." You say. 

"A historian and a doctor, wow," he utters. 

You look away, "sorry... if I overstepped. I know some people like that to keep that stuff private. You know, small celebrations." 

"Well, I haven't celebrated since 1941, so... yeah, not on the top of my list." 

His words hang in the air. Your heart races and he sighs. He slowly nears. 

"But..." he drags out the last consonant, "you did something." 

"Bucky..." 

"I can hear your heart. No use pretending. Oh, shit, please don't say it's a surprise party. I knew Sam was up to something," he growls. 

You laugh. It's nice of him to think you'd be included. You shake your head and back up. 

"It's... just from me. Nothing big," you go to your locker and reach into the cooler bag. "I hope you have a sweet tooth--" 

You turn back and find him right in front of you. You flinch. You gasp in surprise. He's fast. And silent. 

"It's er," you look past him, at where he just was, on the other side of the table, "a cupcake. Strawberry swirl with a shortcake crumple on top and cream cheese icing," you cradle the container daintily. 

"Wow, you did that? For me?" 

"I mean, it's a hobby. I always end up giving cookies out to the neighborhood kids," you shrug. "Really, it's small. Nothing big." 

His blue eyes focus on the clear top of the container. He blinks. His jaw tenses and his dimples deepen, the cleft in his chin tautens. You nearly wilt at the heat roiling from him; or that's just you and your stupid self. 

"I... thanks," he reaches to take it, his fingers brushing yours. "That's..." he exhales. "That's nice of you. It's... incredible." He turns it and examines your delicate work. "The last birthday cake I had didn't even have eggs." He looks you in the eye, "rationing." 

"Oh, right," you heave. You forget he's technically older than you. That serum has surely helped. "Well, I hope you enjoy it." 

"I'm sure I will. It's almost a shame to eat it. It's so nice," he says. "At least, it would be a shame to eat it al--" 

"There you are!" A voice calls from the doorway. "Did you forget?" 

You look over at Nat as she puts her hand on her perfectly curved hip. Even in street clothes, you can tell she has an hourglass figure. And she's stunning with her bold red hair and porcelain complexion. 

"I didn't forget," he rebuffs and sends you a goofy smile. "Girlfriends." 

"Ha, right," you sidle away awkwardly and go back to the lab table. He crosses to Nat as she stands by the door. 

"Whatever," she drawls. "Oh, what's that?" 

"Cake. My cake," he insists and holds the container out of her grasp. 

You peek up as he raises his hand and meet Nat's eyes. You blanch. She tilts her head slightly. You offer a weak smile. 

"Just see if you can keep it from me," she returns her attention to him with a snarl. "I mean, we were planning on wrestling anyway." 

She grabs the front of his tee shirt and pulls him to her. She stands on her toes and pushes her lips to his as he angles down to meet her. You quickly look at the forgotten report and search for your notes.  

Ugh, you are so lame. You really thought you'd outgrown crushes. Well, time heals everything, doesn't it? That man is all the proof you need of that. 

🧁

You look at the clock and sigh. You did it again. Time is your nemesis, always eluding you. You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. If you head out now, you might actually get some sleep.  

You open your locker and slide the tablet into your burgundy leather bag. You wish you were as sophisticated as you seemed. From the outside, you have a degree, several, you splurge on labels, you always have good food...  

But you don't do anything. You don't go out with friends. You don't have friends. You have acquaintances.  

A subtle swish prickles your hackles. You peer over as the lab door opens. You fumble your bag at the figure there.  

Bucky cradles his face as he looks around with his uncovered eye. He winces as he sees you and enters, "thank god you're here, doc, think I need stitches."  

"Stitches?" You grimace and put your bag back on the shelf. "How on earth--"  

You hurry over to him as he chuckles, "yeah, I know. I always gotta ruin things."  

You tut and wave him over to the table. You open a drawer and take out a sanitizing wipe. "Let me see."  

He lowers his hand. His eye socket is already discoloured and there's a gash in his brow. Your eyes round.  

"What happened?" You reach to dab away the blood gently.  

He groans, "well, you know, Russians and their vodka."  

You look him in the eye curiously. You continue to wipe away the blood. You try not to ogle him. How many times have you patched him up? Don't be a fool.

"Natasha?" You wonder.  

"Mhm. Well, I mean, she gets rough just typically... in a different context," he laughs again and the insinuation makes you twitch.  "We were arguing..."  

"Arguing," you echo as you toss the wipe and examine the cut. "No stitches. I can glue it shut."  

"Right," he nods, leaning in to give you a better angle. "Anyway, we were kidding around and it got a bit serious. She gets jealous easy, ya know?"  

You uncap the bottle and place a hand gentle on his head, framing his brow. You're as careful as you can be. He hardly seems bothered. You apply the glue precisely.  

"Jealous?" You prompt.  

"Ha, yeah, funny thing," he clucks. "She's jealous of you."  

"Me?" You put the glue away and snort. You busy yourself as you tuck the kit away then go to wash your hands. You feel him watching.  

"That cake you made me. I might have been drooling over it," he says. "You're a hell of a baker. You got a degree in that too?"  

You roll your eyes then face him, once more startled to find him close. You steady yourself as you lean on the table behind you.  

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," you murmur, clearing your throat as it clenches. "You know, it's not my place but she did some nasty work on you."  

"Yeah, she did," he touches his brow and winces. "But you got me, doc. Like always."  

"Yep, well, you're all good, so..."  

You realise how close he is. It would be hard to slip by without brushing him. You freeze and stare at him, confused.  

"I think you forgot something," he says.  

Your brows knit and your lips downturn, "I did?"  

"Yeah," he runs his knuckles up your arm, "aren't you going to kiss it better?"  

You blink. Then you guffaw. Then you feel horribly dumb.  

"Don't be silly," you catch his hand as it crawls along your shoulder.  

He doesn't stop. He flicks your fingers away and tickles your neck. You gulp and lean away.  

"Not being silly," he grabs your chin, his grip firm. "I'm serious. I think it would help," he grins.  

"I don't... alright. I think it's late and I--"  

"Those lips have gotta be just as tender as those hands," he stretches his thumb up to touch your lips. You shiver.   

"Bucky," you say appeasingly. You have to be asleep at the table, dreaming again.  

"You think I can't hear your heart hitch every time I walk in? Hm?" He steps closer to loom over you, "think I can't smell it in your sweat? That I can't smell you getting wet--"  

"Stop! Stop, please," you try to pull away from his hand. "Bucky, that's... please."  

"A little kiss," he growls. "Just here."  

He lets you go and traces the cut. You quiver, blood surging, skin alight. You slowly hover closer and press your lips to his brow. He hums.  

He pulls away. He's too quick for you to elude. You have to no time to react as he takes you off your feet. 

His hands are on your hips. You wriggle. You’re overly conscious of the extra cushion there as his fingers curl into it. You yelp. 

“Please, Bucky,” you push on his hands.  

“I know you want me,” he snarls as he slides his fingers under your ass, groping you as he pushes between your knees. 

“Bucky, it’s just--” 

“It’s just...” he interjects as he leans in until his nose touches yours, “my birthday and I know exactly what I want.” 

[th30ra3k3n]

“sometimes you think that you want to disappear

but all you really want is to be found.”

(anonymous)

[the-voice-beckons-below]

the end of the (red) line

bucky barnes x steve rogers x gn! reader

synopsis: red string au, in which a thread, invisible to others, tangles you and your soulmate together. you’ve been waiting a long time to meet the person at the other end, the problem is, they keep damaging the thread, leaving you unable to track them down.

warnings: angst (it’s a fic involving bucky, it’s to be expected), fluff, reader is down bad, mentions of death, self loathing, reader is technically an orphan (blame new york not me), big muscly super soldiers !! reader is confident!

word count : 2,928

this whole red string business had cost you many nights of sleep. all your friends had been lucky, bumping into their supposed soulmate in a store or cafe, or getting a new job and seeing a prominent string dangling from their coworker’s fingers.

see, it isn’t visible at all times, which is arguably less and equally more frustrating. there’s only certain times you can follow it, or tug on it if you’re impatient. there’s a possibility you walk past your fately betrothed and you’ll miss them, because the universe decides you’re not ready.

it’s been five years since it first showed up, looped around your fingers snuggly. it happened after a nightmare, which were all too common. witnessing the attack on new york first hand had been devastating, bodies upon bodies. screams and cries and families torn apart, including your own.

it was just you now, scattered in the vast expanse of the world like a drop in the ocean. friends were distractions, only so much could tackle the constant ebbing and aching deep within your chest. tucked away so far that it was normal, like it had always been there.

it was at a bar when the familiar red showed up, and in frustration, you yanked hard. standing up from the booth with your friends and determinedly walking to try once more. the bond was fickle, or maybe, it was just yours specifically. seemingly disappearing each time some ground was made, like someone had purposely cut it.

you learnt to be fast, coiling the thread and pacing swiftly. weaving through crowded streets on a winter’s eve, eyes narrowed and scrutinising. your lips dried at the cold air, and a small voice reminded you that the jacket you’d been wearing was still slumped in the bar’s booth. was it worth it? getting cold and also getting a dead end?

the trail never seemed to end, with each tug and pull, there was no resistance. leaving a yarn-like pile puddled at your feet. it could’ve been the frustration or exasperation that triggered the next moment, gripping onto the thin crimson and jerking it with every ounce of might you had.

it wasn’t noticeable at first, but steadily a burning littered your palms. for the very first time, you’d gotten rope burn from wrenching the thread.

there was also a man who was distinctively dishevelled, like he’d been displaced.

he was littered in crimson.

not only was it looped around him, it also continued from him. which was just too much to comprehend at the given moment, was it possible to be attached to multiple people?

the man whipped his head up, almost like he’d been shocked, and belatedly met eyes with you. locking with a shudder, his gaze was almost frantic.

at the same time, you both spoke, your voice edging on angry and confused. while the stranger’s seemed unbelievably stunned.

“you!”

in all years of imagining your future partner, you’d never expected them to be so…unfairly attractive. adorned with dull blonde locks, a sharp jaw and icy blue eyes that held a depth you hadn’t prepared for. he was tall, and built, gods he could crush you.

it almost cooled the anger in your veins.

“why did you keep cutting me off?” you snapped, fists clenching from anxiety this time. had they seen you before and decided you weren’t enough? could you be enough? why wait all this time? why sever the connection over and over?

“what?” he breathed, the air in his lungs fled. the blonde’s train of thought was completely dismantled, a flicker of hurt and confusion flooded his face. “that - that wasn’t you?”

steve still remembers when it appeared. just after his major transformation from frail to superhuman. the sight caused him to stutter, whole body feeling just as weak as he was before. immediately he’d gone to find peggy, hoping it was her, she was breathtaking. first woman to see him as someone, and who looked at him with a hint of softness that he melted for each time.

and he still remembers the way his heart had plummeted upon finding out his newly acquired string was not attached to peggy. it shattered a part of him, he’d never felt like this with anyone before, and yet peggy wasn’t the one. her bold lipstick would not litter his cheeks or lips, her soft yet strong hands would not rest in his own.

it was confusing.

but what was truly heartbreaking was finding out who it was attached to.

after rescuing bucky from hydra and finally having his best friend back, steve thought maybe it would be okay not to know the person on the other side of the string. him and buck would be alright if they had each other, his fondest and happiest of memories included barnes.

on that train, time stopped. bucky dangling from a scrap of metal, steel eyes terrified and begging for steve to haul him back up.

he couldn’t reach him. he tried, god he tried.

the worst part of it all had been seeing glimmering thread falling into the snow with his best friend. he’d found and lost his soulmate - best friend, at the exact same time. it was a good thing to have crashed that jet into the ice, he was content with it. knowing if there was an afterlife, buck would be there with open arms.

but that’s just not how it went.

instead he woke up from a presumably deadly sleep.

all he had ever known was gone, apart from peggy, who after a little while, was gone too.

thread was still attached to him, he felt it, it was heavy, dragging him down in what felt like every step. the weight was there, but he didn’t see it.

not until a masked assassin stood in his path, mask strewn across concrete. his beautiful bucky was alive, and almost unrecognisable with the torment that surrounded him.

he cried that night.

eventually, after he fought through what felt like hell, he’d pulled bucky back from the torturous programming he’d been under. they’d come to realise that their thread, ignited since the 40’s had changed, it went in another direction.

“multiple soulmates huh?” buck realised, if steve was observant enough, he would’ve seen the defeat in his former best friend’s (now lover’s) language.

“i don’t think it will be a bad thing, it’s, exciting.”

bucky’s bit his lip, “maybe.”

it had taken years to let steve in again. he was on edge all of the time, was real panicky too. spent so much time locked in his room, and went between eating so much his stomach hurt and not having an appetite at all. it felt undeserving to have what he wanted, to have a soulmate, to be potentially happy after what he’d done.

the lives he’d taken.

the guilt had crushed him, and the self hatred never dulled. he didn’t deserve steve, he was too good. too sweet, too soft. too, steve.

when it became clear that someone else was out there, linked to steve and him, he panicked. it had been hard enough coming to terms that steve didn’t hate him, didn’t blame him. no one else could get close, what if he hurt them? what if they took steve?

what if this string thing didn’t work out all the time? everything was fine with steve. he felt safer than ever, with a calm so alien to him.

it wasn’t purposeful, but whenever the other string popped up, every time he went to touch it, it frayed. like the bond didn’t want him.

time after time it dissolved after bucky touched it, no matter how gentle or rough, it vanished. it was humiliating. after a while he just swiped at it whenever it did reappear, wanting it gone. it was just there to insult him. of course it would fray when he touched it, it was naive of him to think that a killer, someone drenched in the blood of others, could be wanted.

steve would disagree of course.

steve loved him with every fibre of his being, so fiercely it was near startling. it was more than he deserved. every embrace was simultaneously his oxygen and his undoing.

captain america was righteous, strong. believed in bucky and nursed him back to ‘health’ as much as he could. rogers was more than a tight suit and a impenetrable shield. he was everything.

he knew that steve was searching for their other, other half. knew that he was excited to meet them, wanted to show bucky that it would be a good thing. steve hadn’t accounted for one thing, bucky’s fear.

bucky was internally petrified of losing his everything.

he swiped at the string over and over, and the guilt was way lesser than the fear.

the name you’d gotten was steve, which you knew from the moment his trademarked straw hair and ocean eyes filled your vision, you’d quickly texted your friends not to worry.

followed string, please hold onto that jacket, it’s my favourite. i’ll be sad if you lose it :(

he had ordered two coffees, “this may take a while.” the man wrung his hands nervously, it was mildly comforting to know you weren’t the only one with a pounding heart and a sweaty brow.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be.” it had come out in a splutter, scrounging for a conversation, it would be embarrassing to confess you just wanted to hear him talk more.

the raise in his brow only made your heart thud faster, eyes becoming half amused and half apprehensive. “how so? i’m sorry if uh, don’t cut it.”

you had practically interrupted him, “no - you’re just, i mean for one you’re captain america. makes sense why i couldn’t find you, you’ve probably been all over the place.” after years of pondering about your soulmate, finally coming face to face with one of them was exhilarating and overwhelming. and you couldn’t stop talking, spilling too many words. it was a wonder that he kept up. “and secondly, you cut it, how you look is borderline unfair to the general public.”

you had caught him off guard, and his laugh, it came from his chest. deep, rich and warm. “fighting takes you all over. i’m glad - that i cut it. been worrying that you were making it disappear, that you didn’t want to see me - us.”

mid sip, you halted. he drank his own coffee with a small smile. “you uh, know the other one?”

his lips quirked up more, a fondness shining in his pupils, “you could say that.” steve cleared his throat, thumbing the handle of the coffee cup, “i’ve known him my whole life,” he hesitated, “his name is bucky.”

everyone who’d paid attention to the news was aware who this ‘bucky’ was. captain america’s best friend who was taken in by hydra and brainwashed so severely he’d lost himself along the way, who was used as a weapon for a long, long time.

steve was prepared for a bad reaction, people weren’t always understanding when it came to buck. more often than not, they’d call him a killer or become uncomfortable. it made him incredibly protective, and he struggled to stay present in a conversation after judging bucky so poorly.

“you don’t need to be on edge you know.” you spoke, spotting the super soldier’s tense posture. “i know who he is,” you started carefully, sweeping across the expanse of steve’s face, “and anyone with a brain knows what happened to him, is not his fault.”

steve inhaled with a shaky, but relieved breath. “thank yo-“

“you don’t need to,” you cut in, “i’ve been waiting for years, for you, for you both technically.” a blush quickly swarmed your cheeks, and you broke the eye contact between the two of you. the rest of the sentence was silent, but steve would’ve decoded it as: i don’t give up so easily.

being connected by fate to one extremely attractive man was already hard to grasp. but two of them? it was almost sending you to an early grave. it was easy to see just from a small interaction that steve was sweet, protective, handsome and you were bound to him.

“he’s a tough nut to crack.” a part of you laughed at the innuendo, but outwardly, just managed to keep it in. “he’s probably worried, said i’d be back by 5, always make sure im never late.”

“trying to escape already?” you teased, before asking for his number. he fumbled around with his phone, shaking his head at your question. it was slightly endearing how steve’s fingers shook as he pulled up his contact details. despite the pair of you trying to appear confident, you were equally as nervous and giddy.

as soon as you finished inputting the information, the door to the cafe dinged, and in walked the reincarnation of sin itself. brown messy hair and the most hypnotising steel irises. red thread wrapped around the metal of his arm beautifully. you sucked in a breath, not out of fear of who bucky was, but the dawning realisation you were linked with perhaps the prettiest men on earth.

his face was hard set, pulled taut and serious. clinically, and methodically, he swept over the cafe until he found his target. the tension from the man visibly eased, enough so that he didn’t even clock the person sitting across from steve. who, if he had noticed, was staring at him unashamedly.

“it’s 6, you’re never late.” bucky narrowed his stare pointedly, quickly checking to see if steve was perhaps held back by an injury. when he found nothing, he almost looked offended.

steve’s lids fluttered at the timbre of his partners voice greeting him, “mhm.” amusement quickly overcame his expression, “well, i was busy.”

“busy with what?” bucky almost growled, frowning at the pleased glint present in steve’s pupils, and how his partner seemed smug. he was happy about not coming home? he’d been waiting at home like a damn dog, until noticing the string and following it to steve like he was on a mission. steve shifted to look at you, and couldn’t help the smile that burst from him. oh you were perfect. not afraid or judgmental of bucky at all, you instead looked all but ready to devour the ex assassin.

at steve’s silence, and sudden interest looking at something else, bucky cranked his head to the side. all words dying on his tongue the second he caught onto you, the string cocooning you and your ecstatic half crinkled eyes. “oh.”

“oh.” steve echoed with a poorly hidden smirk, anxiety tugging at his chest, waiting to see how bucky would react. it all depended on this moment.

it was basically a staring contest with the amount of eye contact between the two of you. it was like bucky was searching for something within you, trying to dig into your core and assess what laid there. “this is an acceptable reason for being late.” and with that, he turned away.

steve sighed exasperated, “i’m sorry for him, that, that was rude buck.” back in the 40’s bucky was an unrivalled gentleman, polite to women and men alike. he was guarded, too much so. steve had desperately wanted to forge a connection with their third partner, and didn’t expect bucky to seem almost against it.

“don’t apologise for me.” he withheld a small scowl, flicking back and forth between steve and you. it didnt deter you, rationally maybe it should have, but you waited 5 years. you’d be damned if you gave up on the first hurdle. steve had said he was a ‘tough nut to crack’, so cracked he would be.

“it’s alright,” you waved steve’s concern off, “it’s good to meet you, years of waiting was worth it.” you raised your hand expectantly, bucky hesitated, until stubbornly wrapping his metal fingers around your flesh ones. the lack of alarm or fright from touching the metal limb had him faltering.

you truly weren’t affected by him or the history and baggage he carried.

with a confidence you weren’t sure you had, you leant closer, heart hammering at a speed that felt dangerous. slowly, and tentatively, you placed a tender kiss upon the back of the silver hand. bucky’s reaction was a sucked in breath and a sharp twitch in the prosthetic limb. it was almost as if he’d felt the sensation coursing through him. “i am sorry for keeping your partner, do forgive me.”

“i’ll think about it.” his stoic facade bled at the edges, challenged by the smallest lopsided lift of his lips. “here again, tomorrow at 2.” he all but demanded, pulling away and walking towards steve.

“bucky! you can’t just - buck!” the blonde groaned, jumping at bucky interlinking their hands and dragging him away. before he was completely swept, steve fumbled through his wallet and laid money on the table for the coffees, “i hope tomorrow at 2 is convenient.”

“i’ll think about it.” you replied, slyly laughing at steve before he disappeared through the glass cafe door.

there was no doubt about it, they would cram into every space hidden within your head, without any resistance. one interaction with them both, and you were a goner.

you leant into your hands, muffling the borderline painful grin painted on your face. after a moment, you turned on your phone, sending the fastest text.

you are never going to believe this, i’m coming back for my jacket, and for drinks.

your index hovered over the new contact in your phone, and before you could think it through, you typed away.

you both cut it ps. do you or bucky want flowers or chocolates?

a/n: so i started this fic today, and it was meant to be a very short one, more of a drabble than anything. i’ve become more attached than initially expected, and it became a longer fic. divider credits are me just in case anyone was about to ask about them, i might post them!! i think i need some more to do a batch though.

i don’t normally see more confident readers/a mix of flustered and confident, and i’m not sure how well received it will be because of that. i hope there’s people that can appreciate a cheeky hand kiss and a little bit of flustered steve and bucky. reader would spoil them both, gifts and open affection, would be so supportive and protective, steve and bucky would end up so possessive of them in return.

i hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it !! merry early christmas <33

[lupinluvbot]

delivery

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after moving into his new apartment, bucky barnes is still adjusting to modern day civilian life. but when a small mistake with a food delivery leads to a tense (and sarcastic) encounter with a neighbor, things take an unexpected turn.

word count: 1,206

masterlist

“About damn time,” Bucky muttered under his breath, setting down the last cardboard box with a soft grunt. The edges were fraying, and it had nearly split in half during the climb up the stairs. He stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by mismatched furniture, open boxes, and the ever-present scent of new paint. The walls were bare. The silence was too loud.

He rolled his shoulders, joints popping as he stretched. The day had been nothing but a haze of unboxing, sorting, and regretting every life decision that led him to think he could move without help. His left arm, though reliable, wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to delicately handling fragile objects. Two mugs and a cereal bowl had already paid the price.

Still, the apartment was his. Really his. No underground base. No shared safe house. No rotating roommates with trigger fingers and haunted eyes. Just him, a half-unpacked apartment in Brooklyn, and Alpine—his fluffy, temperamental white cat—who was currently sprawled out on the one sunny patch of floor like she owned the place.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Bucky muttered, stepping over her on his way to the kitchen. “You haven’t paid rent.”

Alpine flicked her tail and offered him a slow blink, as if to say, You’re lucky I haven’t left you yet.

He grumbled something under his breath but couldn’t suppress the faint tug of a smile. He poured himself a glass of water, took a long sip, and leaned back against the counter. His stomach growled. Loudly. A reminder that, despite everything, he was still human—still needed sustenance.

The fridge was depressingly empty. A few bottles of water, half a carton of almond milk, and a suspicious-looking Tupperware container he didn’t remember packing. His lip curled in disgust.

Delivery it was.

Bucky settled into the couch, Alpine hopping up beside him and curling into a tight ball against his thigh. She let out a soft purr when he absently stroked her head, his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled through endless takeout options. His mouth watered just looking at the pictures.

He spent more time than necessary building the perfect order—extra rice, extra guac, no sour cream, and a ridiculous number of churros. It was stupid, but it felt like the first real luxury he’d allowed himself in months. Maybe years.

He hit submit, tossing the phone aside and heading to the shower.

By the time he emerged—steam following him into the hallway—he felt marginally more human. Hair damp, black t-shirt clinging to his chest, Alpine meowing impatiently near the door. She was always the first to detect any sound outside, ears twitching like tiny radar dishes.

“You hear something?” he asked, crouching beside her.

A moment passed.

The doorbell rang.

“Finally,” Bucky grumbled, grabbing his wallet from the counter and striding toward the door with all the energy of a man expecting glory on the other side. He yanked it open, hand outstretched—and froze.

The delivery bag was there, sure. But the person holding it? Not the expected disinterested teenager in a branded baseball cap.

It was you.

You looked thoroughly unimpressed, holding the bag out stiffly like it offended you to touch it. A streak of wind pushed your hair back, and Bucky noticed the way your jaw was clenched, your brows raised in utter disbelief.

“There,” you said flatly.

Without thinking, he snatched the bag out of your hands with a grumble. “Took you long enough.”

You blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

He was already halfway through shutting the door when you stuck your foot in it, stopping the frame just inches from slamming shut.

“Hold on,” you snapped, pointing at him with a finger that might as well have been a dagger. “Before you disappear into your brooding cave, you might want to check the delivery slip, jackass.”

His brow furrowed. He looked down at the paper stapled to the bag—and there it was. Wrong apartment number. You lived in 4B. He lived in 5B. He’d put your address.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” you said, folding your arms. “Exactly. I’ve been waiting for my own food, and instead this lands on my doorstep with no explanation and a guy with a Terminator arm yanking it out of my hands like I’m the one who made a mistake.”

“I didn’t—” Bucky paused, glanced at you, and sighed. He ran a hand through his damp hair, guilt creeping into his gut. “You’re right. I messed up.”

You gave him a look—pointed, cutting, but not entirely hostile. He deserved it.

“Look…” he shifted awkwardly in the doorway, the bag of food hanging at his side. “You hungry?”

Your brow arched.

“I mean… you came all the way up here. Technically it was your door. And it’s a lot of food. Probably too much. And—” he hesitated, glancing down the hallway and then back at you, “I feel like a dick.”

A beat passed. Then two.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. But if you try to murder me, I’m calling the cops.”

“Deal,” Bucky said, stepping aside.

Alpine was still perched on the armrest when you walked in, watching you like a feline guard dog. You blinked down at her.

“She yours?”

“Alpine,” Bucky said, setting the food down on the coffee table. “She bites if she doesn’t like you.”

“Comforting.”

“She bit Sam once. Drew blood. I was so proud.”

That made you laugh—a small, startled sound that seemed to surprise even you. Bucky smirked, handing you a container of tacos and a drink.

You both sat on the couch, shoulder to shoulder but not quite touching, Alpine still keeping her distance. Conversation was stilted at first—comments about the food, complaints about the building, awkward silences—but slowly, the rhythm returned.

You found out he’d just moved in. He learned you’d lived here for three years. You liked plants; he killed them. You worked nights; he didn’t sleep much. He told you about Alpine—sort of rescued, sort of adopted—and you told him about the stray orange cat you’d been feeding in the alley.

Halfway through your churro, you asked, “So, Bucky… what exactly do you do?”

He paused, churro halfway to his mouth. “Uh… freelance.”

You stared at him.

“Security consulting.”

“Mmhm.”

“With occasional… combat.”

You laughed again, more freely this time. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Better than I used to be.”

By the time the food was gone and Alpine had hopped into your lap, the tension had vanished entirely. You glanced at the clock and stood with a stretch.

“I should go,” you said reluctantly. “But, thanks for the tacos. And the almost door-slam.”

He stood, too, walking you to the door.

“I owe you one.”

You grinned. “Next time, double-check your damn address.”

As you disappeared down the hall, Bucky lingered by the doorway, watching until you turned the corner.

Alpine rubbed against his leg, meowing pointedly.

“I know, I know,” he muttered, bending down to scoop her up. “She was cute, wasn’t she?”

Alpine purred.

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky smiled like it meant something.

[seanom1lk]

Marvel Headcanons Bc I can and I WILL

Natasha and Luna will make bets about fucking anything, but specifically Bucky and Sam. If Natasha and Luna know they're going to be around each other and they'll be there for it, they're making all sorts of bets.

Gwen tries to help on spring cleaning but ends up scaring the shit out of Alpine most times, so Bucky ends up exiling her.

Bucky doesn't actually mind, so most times he secretly lets her help by giving her little mini tasks.

Every time Sam and Bucky are back in Sam's home town, (they visit often), Sarah lets AJ and Cass hang out with them, and it turns out Bucky is actually really good with kids/teens.

It's mostly because AJ and Cass beg to let Sarah bring them over to wherever they are staying.

Alpine hates almost everyone except Sam, because he's gotten used to him, and Clint. Bucky has no idea why, but Alpine just likes Clint.

Every time the gang (Sam, Bucky, Natasha and Luna + Torres; +Clint/Mantis) gets together in a car, they're arguing over who gets to play their music.

At some point, Sam got so fed up with it he just started letting Bucky play his music first no matter how much Natasha or Luna groaned and whined.

Bucky is really sensitive to aggressive noise, so he normally can't stand rock music or similar music.

Because of that, he actually really prefers artists like Billie Eillish and VERY VERY specific Taylor Swift songs, and god, does he love Nightcord at 25 songs.

When Gwen comes over, she has a tendency to play My Little Pony songs on loop, especially the bangers like You'll Play Your Part & The Pony I Want To Be.

Contrary to what Bucky has told Sam and Gwen, he actually rather enjoys when she plays the songs.

anyways thats it for now<3333 i have so many more so...

[local-crying-boy]

🅂🄰🄼 🅆🄸🄻🅂🄾🄽

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Word count: 360

A/N: Since I did a Joaquin Torres one I decided I had to do a Sam Wilson one (GODDAMN THESE MEN ARE HOT)

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Sam Wilson the kind of guy who holds your hand during sex, no matter what he’s doing his hand will always find its away to intertwine with yours. He’ll hold and squeeze it, his big hands almost covering the entirety of yours.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who leans in close to you when fucking, forehead against yours, but his eyes flutter close a lot. Usually, he’d be able to keep his eyes open, but he allows himself to get lost in the feeling of you.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who has low groans, he barely even moans, but you can make him if you push his buttons in all the right ways. If he moans audibly then you know he’s enjoying way too damn much.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who makes you cum more than once before filling you up, he doesn’t mind how, fingers or mouth, he’ll find a way to make you just about content and then make you lose all sensation in your legs with his cock.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who can switch his pace anytime, whatever suits your mood. You wanna go slow, gentle, drag it out? Done. You wanna go faster, deeper, harder? Your wish is his command (and he’s more than happy to grant it)

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who can joke around during sex, he’ll get you laughing in the middle of it of course, he can’t help it.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who whispers sweet nothings in your ear, praising you, complimenting you before and after sex. You are his and he is yours, he likes to remind you of that.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who doesn’t leave many marks on you like hickeys, but he does have his own way of showing off that you’re his. That little hobble in your step when you went to training the day after you spent the night with him? Oh, yeah, that’s definitely a coincidence.

Sam Wilson the kind of guy who can hold out, he refuses to let himself cum before you, he has to know that you’re fully satisfied before he lets himself go.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Masterlist

[canaryarts-br]

Bucky Barnes 🖌️

[ourghoststories]

Apologies [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

"James, seriously! We're gonna get married and you can't stop getting in harm's way, you said the Winter Sol- White Wolf thing was in your past. I'm not saying you can't do anything, save the day, go chase after who you want, but please just think about how much danger you're putting yourself in and the repercussions. The government are already monitoring you closely. I don't want them to hurt you, like that flag-smasher chick or Zemo- what if they'd decided you're next?" I rambled anxiously.

"Zemo doesn't like super soldiers Buck, I don't trust him and even though you did everything right, doesn't mean he won't decide to target you, or us. I'm much more concerned about you".

"(Printcessa) принцесса, I love you but I can't do this... I need to keep going, the nightmares only lessen when I do it. I promise I won't get into stuff that doesn't involve me but I need to work through my book, I have my demons and you have yours" he said glaringly, taking a tone of frustration and concern, before letting the signature frown plaster his features.

"I can't do this either Bucky, maybe we should have a break" I sniffled.

--

I was out driving and I couldn't stop thinking about it, Bucky and I had an argument and this time it was bad.

Leaving was the only thing I could think of doing after we had the conversation, I cared about him more than anyone knew, even Bucky.

He had gotten back after everything happened with Zemo and I had no idea what was happening, he did everything by the books, despite charging into the situation most times with impulse taking over.

I loved him but I was so unsure about this, that's why we argued, Sharon was the Power Broker and had sustained injuries and it was so close to being him.

Plus I didn't like Sharon hanging around Bucky, I knew she didn't have any intentions but she killed someone without hesitation and James really didn't like that, either did Sam.

He would be steadfast and run into situations and come back to me and I'd have to deal with the injuries, the repercussions and damage, time after time and it never stopped, it was getting exponentially worse and that's why I cared, I cared because I loved him and he didn't seem to get it... Or more like he did but was being too stubborn to realise.

Even Sam was telling him to be careful to no avail, he wasn't always this brash, when Steve passed, he didn't know what to do anymore, he was lost and therefore I too, was lost- I hated seeing Bucky this way and nothing was helping, I've been happily dealing with it but I couldn't see him hurting or getting hurt without any consideration, anymore.

I drove around for a bit aimlessly, before I decided that it had been long enough and I wasn't trying to torture him, so I headed back home, the place we owned together.

"Y/n?" He said shocked, but had a smile on his face.

"Yeah I know I've fucked up, y/n, let's talk about it inside" he said apologetically.

I followed him through the front door and into the lounge room.

"I just don't know how you can keep doing it Bucky, you know how much I love and care for you, I know it's part of you and who you are but we're an us now and I need you around... Especially if we're going to have a family" I sniffled, trying not to let tears escape my eyes.

"Y/n I know, I know baby" he said sweetly, placing his metal hand on my back and rubbing it affectionately.

"We've always gotta be prepared, I'm trying to minimise threats to us, I'm going to be more careful I promise. Everything will be okay" he sympathised.

"Okay Buck I trust you, I just get scared" I sighed as he pulled me into a big hug.

He placed a kiss on my cheek, before he took my hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I love you" he smiled gently.

"I love you too, actually i love you more" I chuckled, poking my tongue out.

"Never doll, you know that I would never let anything happen to you, and when we decide to have a family, I'm going to be more responsible because having little mini versions of you and I would be a dream " he chuckled, caressing my face gently and putting his face close to mine so he could stare straight into my eyes.

"Bucky" I smiled happily, letting out an exhale, feeling the pressure of the situation dissipate.

"Mm?" He hummed.

"I love you so much, thank you for making me feel better" I replied as he kissed my hand lovingly.

"I'll always love you and I'll always try to do better for us, never forget that y/n, you're my first priority, not Zemo or anyone else, they'll never get between us, I pinky promise" he said soothingly.

[saikiflm]

My favorite part about sambucky is how unsaid everything is, those stares, brief moment of contact between them, those toothy grins whenever one of them makes an A1 comeback. It’s all airy, light, something they can sit in forever and never get tired of.

Yet god forbid one of them even has the thought of trying to contextualize it—scared that if they say it out loud everything will fall apart. All those moments read wrong because they both can’t commit to their obvious desires, desires that feel so far out of reach ever since their respective tragedies. But the heart wants what the heart wants and theres no way neither of them can will themselves to back away or put some type of distance between each other because fuck—that lingering touch, those stares, those smiles its all too much but so little it craves them wanting more, way more than they allow themselves on a good day.

It’s ironic that they both aren’t the type to dwell on feelings especially one that makes them this restless. So really, it’s only a matter of time before they feel as if in that moment tomorrow won’t exist when things are left unsaid.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drabble Roulette: F*ck Machine - Bucky Barnes

Hey hey! This weekend (July 6 -7) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters, tropes, AUs, and kinks and I’m spinning the wheel! Hopefully I can do this once a month as a little writing exercise.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warnings: this drabble includes BDSM elements, sex toys, sexual acts. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+.

“You have to trust me, baby,” Bucky’s calloused fingertips brush down your spine. 

You whimper again. Every inch of you is overwrought, speckled in goosebumps, your veins hot but your skin chilled. The mingling of sensations and lack thereof has you close to mindless.  

His touch lingers along the curve of your ass. The imprint of his hand stings there still, thrumming as he tickles the tortured flesh. He snickers as you twitch. 

“Oh, baby doll,” he purrs and gropes you meanly with one hand as your lashes flutter against the dark fabric. The blindfold makes everything so much more intense; his voice, his touch, his very presence. “Don’t you trust me?” He pinches your ass and you squeak, thighs clenching as the stickiness cools in the creases. “You can speak.” 

“Yes, Sergeant,” you babble. 

“Good girl. Now keep the pretty mouth shut,” he slides two fingers between your cheeks and swipes down to your cunt. You spasm as he delves inside without hesitation, burying himself once more to his knuckles. The noise your flesh makes around him sets you alight. “Mmm, listen to you. You just can’t get enough.” 

He slides out and smacks your ass again. You yelp and your legs give out, your arms bending as you barely keep from hitting your stomach. He hisses and grabs your hips, lifting you to your knees. You push your arms straight again. 

“Up. Bad!” He spanks you again, the sound reverberating in your skull. 

“Sorry, Ser--” 

“I said mouth shut,” he snarls. “You want more? Fine. You’ll get more.” 

He moves and you quiver again. His footsteps are all that’s clear. The heavy treads landing decisively. Then a squeak and an odd rolling. Friction on the floor. You want to look so badly but you have to obey. Keep your hands flat and your knees locked. 

“I should do it myself,” he drones mournfully, “but you didn’t earn that.” 

There’s a coolness that trickles between your cheeks. You shudder and his fingers follow the flow. He smears the lube around your ring. 

“You should thank me for that at least.” 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” 

“Now say please,” he draws his hand away. 

“Please, Sergeant,” you babble. You don’t even know what you’re asking for. 

“Hmm, baby doll,” he tuts and you feel something along your ass. The hard silicon pokes at your puckered hole and you gasp. He growls. You seal your lips, biting down as you brace yourself. He rubs the top of your ass, “better ease up.” 

Click. A switch flips and you’re stretched by the artificial tip. Deeper, deeper, deeper. Slow but certain. You shake as it dips to your limit and your stomach knots. As it pulls back you quake out a breath. It starts again, in, out. Torturously. 

Bucky hums and his fingers crawl down your thighs. There’s another click. The dildo moves quicker. Not much, but enough to notice. He feels along your cunt as your insides clench. In, out, in, out. 

Click. The hum of the motor continues as he pushes the machine up another level. As he does, he pushes into you with his other hand. Two fingers, then three. He works in tandem with the toy. 

“Good girl,” he coaxes as he lines up the next finger and the machine clicks again. You pant in time with the dildo’s intrusion, shaking as you push your head back and arch your spine. “You like being full, don’t you, baby doll?” 

[th30ra3k3n]

“it’s beautiful.”

“yeah, it is.”

[the-voice-beckons-below]

you ever think of hybrid avengers?

puppy! hybrid peter parker who has the waggiest tail, literally thwacks the avengers with it all the time. who hides his tail and ears after everyone’s forgotten him, he knows if he bumps into mj, his tail would wag uncontrollably. he doesn’t want to seem weird to her.

wolf! hybrid bucky who’s ears and tail are partially mangled from hydra. anytime steve is near his tail manages to muster enough excitement to wag. he stays awake at night, sensitive ears twitching, paranoid there’s a threat around the corner.

hawk! hybrid sam, who complains about his wings being itchy. letting bucky preen him with a scowl, the metal fingers are nice and cold, and they aren’t oily, so they won’t mess up his wings. sometimes when surprised or unexpectedly hurt, he’ll squawk, he’ll deny it ever happened though.

cat! hybrid natasha who’s eyes are so often slitted, but if you get her any place warm her pupils are expanding instantly. the team puts red dots on targets as a joke, funny thing is, it actually helps her. she chases them down with a new vigour, just little mice under her palms. her tail doesn’t move, unless she’s incredibly relaxed. never shows her stomach.

snake! hybrid loki who has impressively sized fangs, scales that sometime appear on his skin. they shimmer between a dull green and a bright teal. he’s venomous, can control it though! only bit thor with a tiny bit of venom when they were little. his eyes are only sometimes reptilian, present in times he’s emotional or overly confident.

lion! hybrid thor, who roars when he finds something he likes so much! remember the cup smashing scene? yeah well he’s smashing it, roaring and then saying “another!” with a smile full of just teeth. who has cute little fluffy ears, lets all the avengers touch them, same as his tail. who when passionate, sprouts some fur on his cheeks, they become distractedly fuzzy. doesn’t realise for the longest time that he has retractable claws, once he finds out, they start accidentally popping out of his nails when he gets too excited or happy.

fox! hybrid tony who sometimes snickers like a traditional fox. purrs when he manages to get a good night of sleep, tail is often bushy and unkept, his ears are almost always covered by a hat. his suits have special sockets for his ears. after some time, with pepper’s help, he becomes more confident in his fox-like features and definitely models them. who eventually tries to get all the avengers on board with doing a hybrid photoshoot. he gets a lot of cravings for chicken and eggs.

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Author’s Note: honestly did this for a little fun. i created a new tumblr account and planned on writing a bunch, but found out my account was shadow banned. contacted tumblr and after a few days my account is no longer invisible!! so i guess this is my soft launch. just want to see if the algorithm sees me now, so any reposts, comments and likes are so so appreciated.

i’m really invested in marvel atm, so expect a lot of fics, also i wrote a miguel o’hara angst fic!! and there’s a male reader x bucky story in my drafts. i’m really excited to meeting new people and fans on tumblr, and hopefully making a community!!!

i might do a part two if this is liked :)

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun masterlist

🏘️part of the girls of paradise au🏘️

Summary: our struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Silverfox AU)

Status: In Progress

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