#the way he was looking at honey from the booth ABSolutely sweet af

[sandiegokpop]

He's so precious🖤

[howdoyousleep3]

the feelin’ is reckless

Hiiiiii I am so emotional today bc of work things and this whole virus impacting that so I wanted this to be fluffy af and feely and emotional and sappy. I’m not really in the mindset to write out a hard smut scene so let me know if this is okay. If not, don’t you worry! I’ll gladly add! 😘😘😘 Bucky wakes up slowly, lazy and thick like syrup, feeling like an entirely different person than he did waking up 24 hours earlier in his own Twin bed. That tends to happen when he wakes up in this bed, this cloud-like luxurious bed that three of him could lay out on comfortably. But there aren’t two others of himself with him in this bed. Steve Rogers is with him in this bed.

It’s early, Bucky being able to tell by the color of the sun and the way it filters in through Steve’s dark curtains, spilling onto the carpeted floor, over the bed. Bucky usually drifts, is someone who wakes up a few times in the morning but can easily go back to bed until he is truly ready to wake up, but that never happens when he wakes up here. When he wakes up at Steve’s house he wakes with uneasiness, his heart in his throat. He won’t let himself think and he’ll quickly gather his clothes, sneak out and down the stairs and slip out the front door without waking the older man. 

That’s what he finds himself doing in these situations when he keeps coming back to Steve again and again—not thinking. He doesn’t want to think about their age difference or the different paths their lives are on. He doesn’t want to think about how much he has grown to adore and yearn for those capable hands on his body, commanding lips on his own, deep and soothing voice in his ear. He doesn’t want to think about how much he has grown to rely on and appreciate and love like having Steve’s presence in his life.

He definitely doesn’t want to think about how he continues to ignore all of these valid feelings when there’s absolutely no way Steve wants or can keep up with a relationship with someone like Bucky. He definitely doesn’t want to think about how easy it is for him to ignore his feelings to continue to have one extra night with Steve, which is exactly what happened yet again last night. A phone call led to dinner led to a club visit. The phone call was the one chance he had at keeping his pride intact, to remain strong, but his foundation was far too weak to have any kind of ground and it crumbled. As soon as he heard that sweet sticky-honey purr of, “Hey, sugar…” he knew he was done for. Dinner was full of that seemingly genuine interest Steve had for Bucky’s daily life, his week, how school was going. Flirtatious banter was heavy from the beginning, Steve growing more and more confident with each night spent together. Soft touches, soft lips, soft voices—Bucky was a weak weak man.

The club was where Bucky truly let go and said fuck it. He was a little tipsy and Steve took him to a place he’d never be able to afford to get into if he were the one paying, one that Steve apparently didn’t even need to pay to get into. It was loud, bass shaking Bucky’s insides, attractive people everywhere and he soon found himself getting carried away with the vibes. 

He could rarely get Steve to dance, always claiming he had two left feet, but one more cocktail had Bucky not needing a dance floor, confidence flowing through his veins making him feel like someone he wasn’t. It had him sitting in Steve’s lap in their booth, rolling his hips to the music a little, sucking on Steve’s earlobe. Steve let him carry on for quite some time, purrs and tight hands and eye contact, and as soon as Bucky whispered, “Take me home, Daddy,” Steve did just that. Bucky didn’t just keep coming back to Steve for his intelligence, his caring demeanor, and his sense of humor; Bucky also came back for the sex. He’ll never have a better fuck than Steve Rogers, he knows this, has accepted this. The strength, the intensity, the devotion—all of it had Bucky crumbling repeatedly. 

Steve could tear him apart, limb by limb, and then put him back together with encouraging whispers, gentle touches and soft kisses. Bucky had never met someone that could love so intensely, with such power, while maintaining a gentle and devoted demeaner. Steve Rogers fucked Bucky as if his own pleasure entirely depended on Bucky’s. Steve’s words, his grips and nudges, his purposeful everything, was devoted entirely to Bucky.

Steve Rogers was the best fuck Bucky would ever have.

And Bucky wanted so much more than that. But he wasn’t going to think about that right now. Right now his focus was sneaking out of Steve’s apartment and running away like he always does. He rolls over, doesn’t want to look at Steve’s sleeping face, and shimmies some before a meaty arm curls around his waist. There’s a deep sigh, a sleepy one, and Bucky is dragged back across the mattress until his back hits a hot muscly chest.

“Where y’goin’?” Steve whispers in a gruff voice on the shell of Bucky’s ear and he can’t help but shiver, swallow loudly. He’s never not gotten away, has never had to face this conversation or predicament head-on.

“U-uhm, I was…I think I should—” Bucky tries but Steve is there to hush him quickly, snuggle into Bucky’s neck, kissing sloppily at the skin there as he pulls the younger’s body back into his own in a wiggle.

“Shh, don’t baby. Jus’sleep now. S’too early, sleep,” Steve mumbles into his skin and he can already tell Steve is going to easily fall back asleep and he’ll be left here to think and he doesn’t want to, has been avoiding it for months. The older man is so warm, so big and so tempting, so sleepy. He’s breathing heavily into Bucky’s temple, his ear, and he hates how much he enjoys the feeling, it adding to his feelings and it’s heinous. Maybe five minutes pass before Steve startles Bucky by whispering, “Can hear you thinkin’, Buck. Know you can sleep in, why don’you do it now for me, sugar?”

Sugar always gets him.

“Steve, I…I really think I should—”

“Babyyy, you been runnin’ away from me for weeks. Gimme this. Stop runnin’. Sleep.”

Bucky immediately feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world for thinking Steve didn’t notice or didn’t care about Bucky ditching early each morning after. He feels ashamed, kind of wants to cry and profusely apologize for being so selfish, but Steve’s lips are pursing against the side of his face, littering it with kisses, arm squeezing at his waist.

“You’re more than just a one-night stand, Buck. Can hear you thinkin’, y’so loud. Wouldn’t keep lettin’ you come over, wouldn’t keep callin’ if I didn’t wan’more, sugar. Now quit your overthinkin’, rest your pretty head, and lemme sleep, yeah?”

Bucky’s mind races a mile a second, can’t comprehend all of Steve’s sleep-slurred words, but a sense of calm and giddiness wash over him. He has questions, hundreds, but the one underlying worry he had has been eased. Steve wants more. He can feel his entire form relax, limb by limb, Steve letting out a pleased rumble. “Come on, I’ll make it worth your while, honey. L’make ya pancakes and you can ride Daddy’s cock right at the table, huh? S’that sound good?” Steve asks, adding in a filthy roll of his hips, his obvious erection digging into the curve of Bucky’s ass, and he can’t help but let out a breathy noise, a chuckle of sorts, chub up a little himself.

“S-sounds like heaven.”

Sure does, Buckaroo. 😍 Feed me and then fuck me? YES PLZ, DADDY.  Love you!! 😘😘😘