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starkeristheendgame · 5 years

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Complicated Boyfriends and Cute Waiters

Just a little something for @starkerchemistry for all the love she threw at Complicated Boyfriends and Kidnapping. Also, pls reminds Chems of how amazing her work is bc the lil shit disagrees >:( Also for @starkerintheparker because I keep converting her to WinterSpider >;D WinterIronSpider.

Tony takes one look at his waiter and sighs heavily.

Not because there’s anything wrong; no. In fact, the plush lips and the shaped jaw and the mop of curls desperately styled into something resembling purposeful mess is actually quite pleasing. The large, honey eyes that widen in recognition don’t hurt either.

No. It’s because Tony knows Bucky is going to take one look at this twinky little slip in his smart shirt and his tie and he’s going to want.

And Tony so had been looking forwards to a quiet evening. A little wine, some $80 salmon and perhaps even getting dicked down into the next fortnight by his boyfriend. The standard casual night in.

“Mr. Iron Stark” the boy whelped, and immediately flushed scarlet at his mishap. Tony could only smile quietly into his book, endeared if a little mollified.

“I think ‘Tony’ would suffice” he responded demurely, sliding the bookmark into place and setting his book aside. The boy was now stood bolt upright, and had obviously steeled himself into giving the Best Service Ever, though he looked a little like he might crumble if Tony so much as looked at him for too long.

“Oh, god. Right. Yes. Mr - I mean, Tony. Of course. I’m sorry, I’ve only just started this job and I’m not used to...” The boy trailed off, clearly trying to think of a way to say ‘people like you’ without it coming across as a little insulting. Tony flashed him an easy, warm smile.

“Breathe, kid. I’m just like anyone else in person, I promise. How about you start me off with a nice, fruity red bottle and two double Presidential 25′s, if that’s okay? Take your time; Lord knows my boyfriend certainly is” he teased, head tipping as he disarmed the boy with another dazzling smile.

His waiter could only gape, before he shut his mouth with a painful sounding clack and spun on his heel, fleeing to the nether-regions of the employee zone. Tony gave an amused sound as he checked his phone. It wasn’t like Bucky to run late; that was Tony’s thing.

And then, like Beetlejuice and undoubtedly because Tony had been thinking of him, Bucky came sauntering into the restaurant like some sort of underwear model. His suit was a deep, silken black with a slightly lighter floral pattern in the fabric, the jacket hanging artfully off his shoulders as he swept the room for his lover.

His hair was styled neatly, and Tony still loved the more modernised cut that he’d opted for; longer on one side, layered and fluffy with bangs that fell over one eye constantly. His stubble was a neat shadow on his jaw, and his eyes focused on Tony with such intensity as he approached that Tony lifted a brow.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to out-do me” Tony greeted as he leaned back in his seat, enough that Bucky could duck down and suck his lower lip into his mouth for a brief but promising kiss.

“Actually, I’m just trying to do you” Bucky shot back shamelessly as he slid into his seat, one leg immediately finding Tony’s under the table to press against. Tony gave an indignant sound, because it was both a truth and a lie, but let it go as movement caught the corner of his eye. Much as he wanted to watch the boy approach, he turned back to Bucky.

Storm-grey eyes slid away, following the path his own had left, and oh, yes. There it was. The subtle up-down of Bucky’s lashes as he sized up the boy, the curl of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. Bucky’s gaze drifted back to Tony in an undeniable stake of predator-prey. Tony could only tip his head in response, smirking slowly.

“H-here. I’m so sorry it took a while” the boy fretted, balancing a tray neatly on one hand as he set a tumbler of whiskey opposite each man, complete with artful glass freezer cubes and an empty, polished wine glass besides that, setting the bottle of red - freshly corked - in the centre of the table. He had to lean over a little to do so, and you would have had to be blind to miss the way that Bucky leaned back to sweep over his body.

“What did I say, darling? Treat me like any other rich shmuck in this place. And don’t mind him, he only bites if you ask nicely” Tony hummed, gesturing to his boyfriend, who eyed him both like he wanted to throttle him and kiss him senseless. In Tony’s experience they often came one with the other regardless.

“I - Sorry?” It came out as a question, but the boy was flushed from hairline to shirt collar and fumbled with his notepad, hands a little shaky as he produced a pen from his breast pocket. “Um, are you ready to order? Or would you like me to give you another minute?” He asked, and it was impossible to miss the way his gaze flit between them, eyes raking their bodies like they were two cuts of steak he was trying to decide between.

“Oh, I think Bucky knows what he wants, alright” Tony purred in obvious, gleeful amusement. Bucky smiled at him in a flash of canine, but didn’t miss a beat as he tipped his head back, eyeing the waiter with a charming smile.

“I’ll settle for the stripped, gold-crust steak served rare, and your name, since this moron was clearly too impolite to ask”. And ooohhhh, wasn’t that a low blow to gain favour? Tony pressed the toes of his Louboutin’s into Bucky’s own none too gently.

“Peter” the waiter blurted, eyes flitting between them as he scribbled down Bucky’s order in impressive short-hand, gaze drifting to Tony, who only smiled serenely at his boyfriend.

“You’re so predictable. Always going for the tender, high-class meat. Always liking it raw” Tony purred, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the steak. Bucky only gave an elegant shrug in response; at a loss to deny it. Peter was looking between them again, vaguely like he might know they were talking about sex, but unable to address it.

“What can I say? I like something solid to sink my teeth into. I like a little juice to lick at and taste. And you of all people know I prefer it raw” Bucky replied steadily, gaze not leaving Tony’s.

“I’ll have the salmon, please, Peter.” Tony hummed, gaze leaving Bucky to look sweetly up at the boy, who nodded and turned, striding away like he was desperate to run away. Tony let his gaze drop back to Bucky. “Less wolf, more fox. He’s a skittish young thing. Haven’t I taught you anything about hunting?” He sighed in mock admonishment and Bucky reached across the table to cup his jaw, smirking.

“Doll, I was fucking people in back-alleys long before you were born. You taught me nothing, old man”. And, well. Rude. “You’re right, though. We might spook him off at this rate. Last time I saw someone that red it was Clint, and he was choking on a mint”. Bucky leaned back, picking up his whiskey and taking an indulgent sip.

They made comfortable small-talk over the time it took for their meals to arrive, Tony lamenting the boredom he’d faced at the quarterly performance review and Bucky noting the progress he and Steve were making with their veteran programs. Tony was proud of his man, really. He’d come so far since Steve had shown up at the Tower with him, both sopping wet and bloodied.

Peter came back no longer than ten minutes later, a plate upon each hand. He delivered Tony’s first, bending down to slide the plate onto the table, and Tony couldn’t resist leaning over, flashing a sweet smile at the boy up close, where he could see flacks of green in his eyes. “Thank you, darling” he murmured, and Peter’s cheeks went red yet again, like Tony simply speaking to him was an activation button for a blush.

Bucky, the brat, had to go one extra. Instead of giving Peter room when the boy bent down he crowded in close, practically licking the shell of the boy’s ear as he whispered a sultry "Thanks, Doll”. Peter’s gaze jerked to Tony, alarmed, but Tony only half-rolled his eyes and picked up a delicate mouthful of smoked salmon.

“You’re a pest” he noted, once Peter had stammered his way into retreating once more. “I had a quiet evening planned” he added, as though it mattered. It didn’t. This practically was his quiet evening, he just now had two desserts instead of one. By the way Bucky eyed him, he knew that, too.

“Shut up and eat your fish” Bucky drawled, popping a cut of dripping steak with tiny flecks of gold powder into his mouth. Obnoxious prat.

But Tony did as told, polishing off the salmon and whiskey both, and filling their wine glasses with a generous serving. It was sweet and rich, just his taste, and he wondered if another waiter hadn’t advised Peter on which choice to bring. “So. The choice is yours” he announced after a pause, when Bucky had finished his own meal and was sniffing daintily at the wine.

“You wanna play sheepdog, or am I?” Bucky asks in answer, lips curving into a wicked smirk that has Tony grinning in response, leg twisting around Bucky’s in a hidden touch. Tony shifted his wine glass in response, allowing a few measly drops to fall onto the edge of his jacket. Good thing he wore grey and hated this suit anyway, because that red wasn’t gonna come out.

Bucky only rolled his eyes, because they’d played this game before, and pushed to his feet. “Woof woof, bitch” Bucky murmured, low into Tony’s ear as he passed, and Tony resisted the urge to drag him back by his hair, to put him on his knees right then. Largely because of he had one more PR disaster this month Pepper got his custom Audi, and he only had four days to go.

It took another short collection of minutes for Peter to come practically skipping over; during which Tony had splashed a few more drops for good measure. “Oh, Peter. D’you think you could help a clumsy old man out? Buck’s gone on a phonecall and I tipped my wine” Tony pouted, putting on his best helpless, sweet aura. Peter’s eyes zeroed in on the red splashed at his hips, tongue peeking out like the solution was to lick it clean.

“Of course! I can - I’ll see if there’s any stuff behind the bar? I can be right back” Peter breathed, but Tony shook his head, pushing to stand. Peter’s eyes are wide now, like a startled deer. They’re stood close enough for Tony to note he has almost a full head on the boy. For a man who’s boyfriend towered over him, it made him rather smug.

“Oh, no need for all of that. Just come to the men’s with me to help me dab the wet patches, hm? At least I won’t reek like a wine cellar on the way home”. He added a charming smile for good measure, turning on his heel. He didn’t need to look to know Peter would follow obediently. Refusing Tony Stark wasn’t good for business, after-all.

Bucky is perfectly concealed when he swings the door open, shrugging out of his jacket and listening to the clack of another polished shoe on the tiles as Peter steps in after him, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Tony carelessly draped his jacket over the edge of the sink and begun to run the tap, because what was a story without details?

Peter hovered closer, clearly unsure of why it would take two men to wash a jacket. “I - What do you need me to do, Mr. Stark?” The boy asks not a moment later, and Tony can’t bite back a grin. Peter has wandered around to his right, which means when Bucky makes his dramatic entrance, it’s gonna be behind the kid.

“Oh, nothing you don’t want to, darling. But if you do want to, then just stand there and let me make you feel good, hm?” He asked, head tilting as he turned off the tap and took a step closer. The hitch of Peter’s breath is audible.

He doesn’t step away, though. Interesting.

“Y-You’re here with your boyfriend” Peter whimpered, even as Tony’s hands came up to his shoulders and chest, petting gently. He trembled under the touch, but didn’t back away, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Over Peter’s shoulder Tony can see Bucky swing around the edge of a stall door, prowling quietly closer, but he doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare alert Peter of the predator at his heels.

“I wouldn’t worry about hurting my feelings, Doll” Bucky purred, low and raspy in Peter’s ear as he pressed up against Peter’s back, until the boy was a pretty little sandwich filler. Peter actually yelped, driving forwards into Tony’s chest, and Tony let his hands fall to slim hips, holding him steady.

“Now, Bucky” he chided, voice softening. “What do we do before we play?” He asked, arching a brow as Peter panted between them. Bucky cast him a pouty but gentle look.

“We ask for consent” he hummed, metal hand reaching up to gently brush aside a curl when Peter whipped around to face him, lips parted.

“Good boy” Tony murmured, gaze dropping back to Peter. They take a step away from him in unison, giving the poor thing some room to breathe. “So. That means you can tell us to stop, and we’ll walk out, pay our bill, and we won’t approach you this way again. Or...You can say yes, and we’ll be gentle, but we’ll make you feel good” he continued.

Peter shifted between them, looking cautious but also like he was two breaths away from sinking to his knees. His voice is small, rough when he finally speaks. “If...What will you do? To make me feel good?” He whispered, and Tony and Bucky wore matching, slow smirks.

“Well. I’m more of a practical person” Tony drawled, eyes roaming Peter’s face for confirmation. He found it in a weak nod, the boy’s pupils blowing as he advanced closer and reached out, him and Bucky closing Peter between them once again. Peter was small between them, lips bitten and eyes wild as Bucky reached down, sliding metal fingers along the curve of his ass and between his thighs, rubbing there like you’d finger a girl, his other hand winding around to press flat over Peter’s stomach.

A wrecked, torn sound slips from Peter’s throat, practically collapsing against Bucky as Tony’s hand dripped down, palming over the half-hard bulge there none too teasingly, the other hand cupping his jaw and tipping his head.

“We’ve maybe got five minutes or less” Tony breathed, licking into the corner of Peter’s plush, pink mouth as Bucky pressed up against him, dropping to mouth at his neck. “I can think of a few things to do”.

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maukree · 4 months

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*Moodboard by @peteyougottaletgo / yougottaletgo

Bucky knows what people see when they look at him: the metal arm, the distant stare, the scars both visible and hidden. Damaged and, obviously, stupid for letting the government stomp all over him, stupid for signing up to get broken in the first place. It has to be that, right? Stupid. That's the only reason why this kid, who picked out a restaurant too fancy for Bucky’s comfort, would sit here and lie his ass off by saying, "I have a stalker," and think he is getting away with it.

[or]

That hooker WinterSpider AU that someone actually asked for. Peter is an escort looking for a driver, and Bucky needs a distraction. It's not what you think. Unless it is.

#bucky barnes #peter parker #bucky x peter #peter x bucky #winterspider #ao3 fanfic #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #moodboard #sebastian stan #tom holland

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styob4 · 2 years

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Bucky and Peter's relationship in most winterspider fanfics:

Peter: I'll be with you until this whole nightmare is over.

Bucky: I'm the one who's causing this whole nightmare.

#idea for fanfic #marvel #avengers #peter parker #spider man #imagine your otp #bucky barnes #winter solider #winterspider

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winter-spiders · 1 year

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I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR A SPECIFIC FANFIC FOR THE PAST 2 HOURS AND I CANNOT FIND IT! I NEED HELP PLEASE!

So it’s kinda winterspider? but the main story is Steve and Bucky are together, Bucky is pregnant (A/B/O universe, i think)and Peter has a heat, and goes to ‘mommy’ (that’s what peter calls bucky) and they kinda fuck? like bucky fists him to simulate a knot, and steve watches (not in a creepy way, more of a concern for his mate way)

and there’s like 2 or 3 chapters, in one of the next ones, Steve and Bucky fuck, but without realizing, Peter watches them, still in heat and jerks off to them

IF YOU KNOW IT, PLEASE TELL ME, I CANT FIND IT

#winterspider #winter-spiders #bucky x peter

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sakkuraprincessyaoi · 7 years

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Main boy (Fanfic WinterSpider)

—Hey, soy yo de nuevo, este debe ser el mensaje número ¿cinco o seis que te dejo? —hubo una pequeña pausa—sólo quiero saber cómo estás, llámame… por favor.

Peter Parker dejó el celular a su lado en la cama, mientras se pasaba las manos por el rostro, realmente frustrado, preocupado. Tamborileó su pie en el piso de madera, no podía controlar su ansiedad. Miró de reojo el celular, eran las diez de la noche pero no podía solo acostarse y dormir si aún no tenía noticias de él. No podía ver una película o escuchar música, no podía hacer nada.

Se paró de la cama casi de un salto, caminando hasta los enormes ventanales que tenía su habitación. Apoyó frente y mano contra el cristal, quería ir a buscarlo… él se lo había prohibido, pero eran dos días sin saber nada.

Respiró profundo, causando que el vaho creara una pequeña mancha en la ventana. Cerró los ojos negando con la cabeza, quizá estaba siendo exagerado, probablemente era así, pero las cosas entre ellos eran un continuo subir y bajar, francamente se estaba hartando. No iba a soportarlo más.

Sus siguientes movimientos fueron guiados más por el coraje, rápido tomo de su closet un enorme abrigo, los cigarros de su escritorio y su celular. Sus tíos se encontraban de viaje, esa más que ser una ventaja era lo que le causaba mayor problema, si estaban fuera se suponía que ellos deberían aprovechar el tiempo lo más posible. Pero no había recibido ni un maldito mensaje en 56 horas, las había contado con atención.

Pensaba en todas las cosas que le diría mientras caminaba hacía el subterráneo, lo odiaba por dejarle así, lo odiaba por ser tan inconstante. Además la noche era fría…

No nevaba, no era un frío congelante, era un frío de esos que hacían que el mundo se sintiera vacío. Del que es suficiente para que las calles se sientan vacías, pero no tan fuerte para que despierte un espíritu de alegría para compartir un café. Era él tipo de frío que los había unido, no del que los separaba.

Aspiró el aire helado, colándolo entre sus pulmones antes de bajar las escaleras. Quería tanto un cigarrillo, pero quería más llegar cuanto antes a su destino, entonces, al verlo podría fumar tranquilo.

Sus pies se movían rápido, había olvidado su pase del metro, con una habilidad propia del ex gimnasta que era, saltó las barras, no había ruido en la estación, y al hombre medio dormido en la cabina no parecía importarle nada de lo que sucediera allí.

Sus tenis desgastados, esos que su tío Tony quería tirar a la basura, rozaban la línea de seguridad, sus ojos se cerraban, escuchando el ligero aullar del viento en el enorme túnel. Hasta ese tiempo pensó que hubiera sido una buena idea traer sus audífonos consigo, el viaje no era tan corto.

Cuando el metro apareció con el fuerte ruido, realmente lo agradeció, el silencio comenzaba a desesperarlo. Tras las puertas el vagón se encontraba vacío. De no ser por el tipo en la cabina, bien pensaría que era el único ser humano en la ciudad de Nueva York, ni siquiera había visto un indigente, o algún trabajador nocturno. Algunos autos en la carretera, pero pasaban tan rápido, que no lograbas saber si realmente llevaban un conductor.

Se acomodó en uno de los asientos, extendiendo sus largas piernas, revisando su celular, molesto sin recibir aún un mensaje.

Peter sabía que era un joven, que era un chico normal, con 22 años qué tanto podías saber del mundo. Qué tanto podrías saber de los estragos de la guerra, que tan consciente eras realmente de la muerte. Sabías un par de cosas del desamor, otras tantas del sexo, un poco más del alcohol. Pero poco conocías de lo helada que era la soledad y la pérdida. Peter había perdido a sus padres a los 3 años, pero apenas y los recordaba, después de eso su tío Tony lo había criado en un mundo de lujos, y posteriormente cuando este se había casado, su esposo lo había puesto entre almohadas al consentirlo. Ambos lo amaban.

Su vida feliz lo hacía un inútil. Un poco de exceso de marihuana y cocaína por diversión. ¿Supresores de sueño? No conocía nada. Los antidepresivos los recordaba de la madre de algún amigo. ¿Qué tanto podía ayudarle?

Pero sentía con el optimismo que lo caracterizaba que al menos debía poder tener la opción de intentarlo. No era un héroe, nunca se pensó como tal, le faltaba valor, le faltaban fuerzas, pero perseverancia no. Y lo que más quería era salvarle.

Sacó la caja de cigarrillos de su bolsillo, no para fumar, solo para recordar el cómo se había visto envuelto en aquello. Sólo por un cigarrillo y el frío.

---

Peter recordaba todo lleno de militares, de trajes y medallas. Su tío Tony había organizado para su esposo Steve una gran celebración por su cumpleaños 40. La fiesta tenía a todos sus compañeros de batallón, así como de otras compañías. A los soldados que éste entrenó en las barracas, o al menos con los que más se había encariñado.

Para ser sinceros, Peter se sentía algo aburrido y fuera de lugar, eso lo había llevado al exterior, al jardín dónde nadie estaba porque hacía demasiado frío, y adentro había demasiado alcohol. Poniéndolo en una balanza, era sencilla la elección. Pero el deseo de apartarse pudo más en él, luego se dio cuenta que esa elección no había sido solo suya.

—¿Tienes otro? —Nunca olvidaría su voz, estaba seguro que llegaría a los 80 y esta seguiría clara en su mente. Se había girado a verlo, aún con el cigarro en su boca, y pudo reconocerlo; uno de los amigos cercanos de Steve, el sargento James Barnes que por lo que sabía había sido dado de baja con honores, aunque no sabía el motivo.

Sin decir nada sacó su cajetilla y se la extendió. Éste al agarrar uno, tomó asiento a su lado, poniéndoselo en los labios, haciendo un gesto con su mano para pedir un encendedor. Torpemente Parker lo buscó en su saco, al extenderlo hacía el otro e intentar encenderlo sus manos temblaron, James las había tomado para mantenerlas estables, hasta que el cigarro estuvo encendido.

Vio su boca darle una calada y luego expulsar el humo lentamente. Notó que a diferencia de la mayoría, este no llevaba su uniforme, y a diferencia de los otros, no estaba adentro embriagándose y felicitando a su tío.

—Estaban calientes…

—¿Qué? —sabía que debía lucir como un idiota, pero algo en ese hombre lo paralizaba.

James tomó sus manos apretándolas ligeramente entre las suyas, mientras Peter podía ver el cigarro colgando en su boca.

—Son cálidas… no parece que lleves aquí mucho tiempo.

—Tiendo a estar caliente pese al frío—Comentó con voz monótona.

Barnes le dedicó una sonrisa que le hizo contener el aliento, el cual soltó en un atolondrado suspiro cuando este de sostener sus manos, llevó una a colocarla contra su mejilla. Allí fue que Peter lo sintió; James era frío. Sus ojos azules, sus manos, su piel, sus gestos… tiempo después supo que su corazón lo era también. Que su mente lo era, y su modo de tratar a las personas.

---

Pasó el camino con la caja de cigarros en sus manos, guardándolo solo cuando llegó a la estación que se dirigía. Cuando salió del subterráneo fue un respiro percibir la atmosfera helada a su alrededor. Aunque esa zona de la ciudad se encontraba menos vacía. Podía ver varias personas yendo y viniendo en la acerca, escondiéndose en sus abrigos, tomando taxis, bajando al metro.

Caminaba de manera rápida, aunque a veces alentaba sus pasos pensando lo que encontraría al llegar. No quería verlo con otra persona, no es que pensara que este tuviera a alguien más, en realidad sabía que no tenía a nadie. Todo lo que había en la vida de James desde su salida del ejército era transitorio, pasajero, básicamente efímero. Él era lo único, lo más estable, lo constante, era su chico principal. Él único que se aferraba a permanecer.

Miró su celular por segunda vez en su travesía, tenía poca batería y pasaban veinte minutos de la media noche, aún ningún mensaje.

Decidió marcar de nuevo.

—De nuevo yo, hola. Quizá sean buenas noches, no importa. Sólo quiero que sepas que estoy por llegar a tu apartamento, si hay alguien allí, haz que recoja su ropa del suelo y sácalo a la calle—una risa apagada salió de sus labios—llegaré en menos de diez minutos. Eso es todo, no te vayas—Pidió lo último casi en un susurro y colgó.

No sabía si James realmente escuchaba sus mensajes, pero se había asustado a él mismo con sus palabras. Pronto empezó a correr, con el temor de no encontrarlo en el apartamento, las calles se empezaron a volver más angostas, y los edificios más callados pues estaba entrando a un sector habitacional. Pocas ventanas en los edificios tenían luz, y de nuevo la acera volvía a ser desértica.

Aunque Parker no podía notarlo del todo, pues su mente apenas y procesaba el camino frente a él para no chocar y seguir el correcto. Su velocidad era increíble, sus saltos de los obstáculos en la calle eran propios de alguien que había abandonado los deportes de pista por el parkour, aunque Steve haya tenido cosas en contra al respecto.

Cuando sus pies pararon frente a la puerta del edificio 1612, su respiración estaba agitada. Su tío se lo había advertido, el cigarro, el alcohol, y los deportes no son los mejores complementos, apoyando una mano en el marco de la entrada calmó primero su respiración, antes de apretar el botón de llamada. Seleccionó la mayoría de los botones, para ver cual de los vecinos contestaba.

Por suerte lo hizo Tobey, un chico que le agradaba bastante y que saludaba en el pasillo cuando iba de visita. Había conocido su nombre cuando le había ayudado con unas cajas de pizza a la entrada.

—Hey, vengo con Barnes, ¿Puedes abrirme? El de seguro está dormido y lamento si te desperté.

—Claro, enseguida lo hago. Y descuida, mi amigo Harry vino, si tu chico no esta puedes darte una vuelta a ver películas con pizza.

—Gracias—Sonrió Peter aunque sabía que el otro no podía verlo, para después escuchar el sonido del mecanismo automático de la puerta.

Subió las escaleras con cuidado, no quería hacer más escandalo del que ya había provocado al apretar los botones de la mayoría.

Cuando llegó a la puerta marcada con el número 19, estuvo a punto de tocar, pero sabía que eso no tendría caso. De entre su pantalón sacó su llavero, con una pequeña navaja en él, movió con cuidado dentro de la cerradura la punta. El mismo Barnes le había enseñado a hacer aquello.

La victoria se dibujó en su rostro cuando consiguió abrir. Entró notando enseguida que todo estaba oscuro, cerró sin hacer ruido, había entrado como un ladrón y se comportaba como uno, pero quería recuperar lo que le habían robado, más que llevarse algo.

Pasó por la sala, caminando hasta la puerta de la habitación.

—Estoy aquí—La voz lo hizo dar un pequeño salto, volteó al sitio de donde había provenido, notando como los ojos azules que brillaban como los de una fiera al acechó se asomaban por la ventana que daba a la escalera de incendios.

—Te he estado llamando—Reclamó acercándose, colándose al exterior, viendo al hombre parado allí, cómo si pudiera detener el tiempo a su gusto, para que no pasara nada hasta que él así lo decidiera. —No me respondiste ningún mensaje.

—No sabía que querías que te respondiera. ¿Qué quiere un mocoso de tu edad?

Peter le empujó por el pecho haciendo que la estructura temblara un poco bajo sus pies. —Saber que estabas bien. Escuché a tío Steve antes que se fueran, no has ido a tus citas…

—No las necesito.

—¿Eres doctor?

—Estoy bien—Repitió firme acercándose para tomarle entre sus brazos de repente.

Peter aspiró la colonia para después de afeitar, el champú barato, un poco de cigarro, y algo de alcohol.

—Estás aquí. Así que estoy bien.

—No por que tu me lo hayas pedido—Peter por fin le respondió al abrazo—Si me querías aquí, ¿Por qué no lo pediste? —Preguntó a su oído.

—No podía pedirte eso, niño. —Sus labios se deslizaron por la mejilla del joven hasta finalizar en sus labios. Le estrechó besándole lentamente, tan lento que la cabeza de Peter empezó a dar vueltas, sus manos se aferraron a la chaqueta del otro, hasta que fue liberado y pudo respirar. —No entiendes, no puedo pedirte nada.

—Eres un mentiroso—Acusó—crees que siempre estaré aquí, por eso no me llamas. Piensas que voy a correr hasta aquí siempre.

—Aquí estás. — Las mejillas de Peter se sonrojaron y James las pegó a las suyas. —Empiezo a darme cuenta. No puedo negar que lo esperaba.

—¿Me esperabas?

—He escuchado todos tus mensajes. Pensé que si salía aparecerías más rápido.

—Hace frío. —sonrió Peter, y Barnes asintió.

—¿Tienes cigarros?

Parker sacó la cajetilla que había estado guardando todo el camino, extrajo uno colocándolo en los labios que amaba, utilizó el encendedor esta vez sin que las manos le temblaran.

James dio una calada honda al cigarro y después le hizo un gesto con los ojos que Peter captó de manera sencilla, se acercó abriendo ligeramente la boca, recibiendo el humo entre sus labios, el frío se había ido.

Se abrazó al cuerpo del otro, suspiró cuando el fuerte brazo del ex soldado rodeó su cintura. Se mantuvo así, esperando a que el otro terminara de fumar, sin decir nada, solo disfrutando el sonido de su corazón, el sonido de sus pulmones aspirando y soltando la nociva sustancia. Recibiendo de vez en cuando, pequeños besos en el cabello.

Cuando el cigarrillo se terminó, James le alzó del rostro por la barbilla.

—Va a terminar matándome. —Dijo en un susurro.

—Es el riesgo de fumar—La sonrisa que se formó en el rostro de Peter era realmente suave.

—Hablo de ti—declaró antes de volver a besarle.

El ejercito lo había hecho amar la soledad, la soledad le había hecho amar el frío, el frío lo había hecho amar los cigarrillos, los cigarrillos lo habían hecho amar al chico entre sus brazos, y que odiara a todo lo anterior, porque sentía que era lo que lo separaba de Peter.

En cambio Peter había aprendido a amar la soledad, amar los cigarrillos, y sobre todo a amar el frío, porque era lo que representaba al hombre que le sostenía.

No supo cuanto tiempo estuvieron allí, besándose hasta que sus labios se entumieron y el calor le ganó al viento, las ganas a la cordura, para terminar en la cama, amándose hasta que el sol calentó la calle y las huellas del camino que Peter había seguido.

#peter parker #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #spider-man #winterspider fanfic #winterspider #coldweather #frío #wattpad fanfic #Wattpad #archive of our own #slash fanfiction #Amor Yaoi

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winterspider-a-wishlist · 2 years

Text

I wrote a thing.

It’s just a short thing. But I enjoyed it. I hope you do too.

Soft chestnut curls, honey warm eyes, pink lips curved into a slight smile, a slight omega body looking lost in the ornately carved oak chair of the King.

The King’s Council had convened without the King eager to make decisions in his absence. The King had been called away urgently, an attack on a trade route had drew his attention.

The King was good and fair but he was young, and his reputation brutal. He was as skilled with a sword as he was with a knife and he foiled no less than five assassination attempts the night his father was killed. James fought until daybreak, his body covered in blood; blood that dripped into the pure white snow.

They called him the Winter Soldier and bowed at his feet after the rebellion ended. He was crowned King days later.

He was hard to manipulate, better to make decisions he couldn’t reverse in his absence. They didn’t count on the omega King consort turning up, but here he sat smiling and distractible.

They turned it to a game, bombarding him with information, changing the subject quickly, raising their own agendas, occasionally talking over each other. Peter’s head was on a swivel, turning to each of them to listen, nodding, having his questions interrupted with useless information.

As one they stopped, turning to him, expecting decisions, smug in the knowledge the omega King consort would never darken this door again and dare to think he was their equal, or worse, superior. He was the omega bitch of King James and they would soon remind him of it.

‘The dairy farm tax should be reduced in accordance with reduced milk prices. We need to encourage a year of less production to even out the market,’ Peter decided.

The men gaped and stared, until one cocky nobles lips turned to a sneer. ‘And how is that possible?’

‘Easy. The largest producers cut their breeding programme, a few less calves should do the trick. And more trade, I know for a fact that our neighbours are in no such position,’ Peter scribbled a note down. ‘We sell the milk.’

‘Easy for you to say when-‘

‘A market fair, we’ll host one and propose our neighbours do the same. There will be trading but a chance to have fun too and it will do much to strengthen relationships,’ Peter caught his tongue between his teeth. ‘Okay next was the soldiers pay on the boarders, so I want you to bring myself or the King a proposal for improving the conditions first. Happier soldiers demand less so…’

And on it went until Peter had decided on every issue. The council grew more sullen and as the sun travelled past the tall windows Peter talked and shared thoughtful and clever ideas.

It galled them, the King had married a match, someone they hoped would distract him. Instead the boy was an extension of the King, they shared a voice, wisdom. They shared values and morals.

Eventually the council dispersed and Peter hurried to his rooms. He didn’t expect to find his husband waiting for him.

Bucky was tall, menacing, and power rolled off him in waves. A glance his way earned him instant respect, and with his reputation no one dared challenge or test him. Most feared him and his cold reputation and seeing the beautiful bubbly omega marry the dark brooding alpha gave many concerns for the omegas safety.

‘Babe!’ Peter cried bouncing into Bucky’s arms.

Bucky grunted and Peter watched the ice in his eyes melt as his legs curled around Bucky’s waist. He peppered the alphas face with kisses and rambled about his afternoon.

Bucky listened, grunting in occasional annoyance. He carried them both to the bathroom, let his husband bathe him as he talked. Peter loved to take care of Bucky.

‘We’ll eat in our rooms,’ Bucky was gruff but Peter bounced around the room, drying off, applying creams and combing his and his husbands hair.

‘I can’t reach the top,’ Peter complained.

With a huff Bucky fell to his knees and let Peter comb his hair. It didn’t take long for Bucky to lean closer, to mouth at Peter’s body.

The comb fell forgotten as the alpha King worshipped his omega on his knees, in his rightful place.

#winterspider #peter parker #bucky barnes #a/b/o fanfic

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graceful-starker · 2 years

Text

This Is Fine--Ch. 4

Summary: Peter learns a lot of things that make him question his decisions.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past self-harm, mentions of alcoholism, implied/referenced dub-con, very ambiguous ending.

Notes: This was voted on to continue by the New Years Resolution poll. I was excited for this one, because the angst this fic has in it always makes me so emotional!

~~~

Peter sighs heavily, taking a sip of coffee slowly. “And I didn’t really say anything after that. I didn’t know what I could say to that...”

Harry shakes his head, tapping his fingers. “And he was drunk?”

“Drunker than he ever was when we were together,” Peter answers. Then he pauses. “Actually, I don’t think he ever drank anything when we were together.”

Harry pulls his phone out. “Never blame yourself for the actions of other people. You didn’t tell him to drink, it isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Peter sighs, taking another sip. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Harry shows Peter his phone. “This article says that drunken confessions should never be taken seriously. If they can’t say it sober, it means they don’t want you to know.”

“Or he was too scared to tell me sober,” Peter argues. “I heard that drunk confessions are sober truths without a filter.”

Harry huffs, picking up his own coffee. “I don’t like Tony. He hurt you.”

“But it sounds like he wants to change,” Peter whispers, unable to look at Harry.

“Good for him,” Harry says with a scoff. “But he still doesn’t deserve you. He hurt you too deep. I’m all for people growing and becoming better people, but there’s no way you could ever be in a healthy relationship again. I mean, could you ever trust him not to look at other people again? Honestly, not just a gut feeling. If you got with him again, could you really be comfortable? Knowing that he can shift interests so easily?”

Peter looks down again, tears in his eyes. “Harry...”

Harry sighs and puts his coffee down again. “I’m not saying it to hurt you. I’m saying it because I don’t want him to hurt you.” Harry reaches over and grabs Peter’s hand, kissing the knuckles softly. “I want you to be happy, and I just want you to think very hard about if he can anymore.”

Peter reaches down to touch his toes, stretching carefully. It’s been a while since he’s done strength training.

He walks over to the bench, and sets up. Two minutes later, he’s grunting quietly as he lifts.

“No, Bucky, I’m not going to drop it,” Steve’s voice rings. Peter almost freezes, but he should really let them know he’s there.

“Steve...”

“I’m serious!” Steve says. “All he does is hurt you.”

“I’m not his boyfriend Steve, he doesn’t owe me anything. If he wants to try again with Peter, he’s free to do so. Drop it.”

“Hey,” Peter says, but Steve talks over him.

“Stop letting him use you, then!” Steve yells, far louder than Peter was being. “That’s all he’s doing, Buck. He’s using you.”

“He loves me,” Bucky argues. “He just can’t let himself, because he loves Peter more.”

“I don’t think-”

“He wants to have kids with Peter, Steve. He hates kids. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is!” Bucky waves his arms dramatically. “He loves Peter, so much that he’s willing to let Peter go. He doesn’t love me that much; he wants to keep me in his circle of toxicity, he doesn’t care how much he’s hurting me. He cares how much he’s hurting Peter. God Steve, I’m the biggest regret in his god damn life! He knew it was a mistake to sleep with me before he did it.”

“That’s my point!” Steve yells back. He doesn’t care if you get hurt, but I do. You’re my best friend, and-”

“And I deserve to be hurt!” Bucky interrupts. “Especially by him! I’m broken, Steve. And nobody who was whole or who was good like Peter would ever look at me like that. Ever.”

“Bucky...you...you like...?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter.”

“So when you had a th-”

“He told you that?” Bucky asks, sounding hurt.

“Only that it happened.”

It’s quiet for a long time after that, and then Bucky speaks softly. Like he doesn’t want the words to leave him. “It took everything in me not to look at him. I knew he hated me. He didn’t want me there. I was so...I was touching him, and looking at him, and it was everything I wanted; except Peter didn’t want me there.”

“Bucky...Are you saying Peter didn’t-”

“He consented,” Bucky amends. “And I didn’t realize until after. Because he said he wanted me for so long, and he was smiling and he was encouraging me to do what I was doing.”

“So what changed?”

“He started crying. After. He pushed me off of him as soon as he could, and he ran away from me. Like I was...” Bucky clears his throat, as his voice was getting wet and rough. “It was like he hated me. I realized he probably already did, and he was just pretending. I still don’t...I still don’t have a clue why. Why he would agree to do it if he hated me.”

“Did he think he had a choice?” Steve asks, sighing and shifting. “Or did he think Tony would leave him if he disagreed.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, no that isn’t it. Why would he do it if he knew Tony would leave him after?”

“He didn’t know Tony would leave him,” Steve points out. “What if he thought he either lost Tony and didn’t have the threesome, or he had the threesome and at least got a chance?”

It’s quiet for a minute, and then Bucky lets out a shaky breath. “He never wanted me?” And it sounds so broken that Peter almost makes a noise.

“Bucky...”

Peter hears Steve sigh heavily and the gym door slam loudly, likely behind Bucky. Then Steve sighs again and his footsteps drag all the way to the gym door.

Peter finally lets out his breath, and puts the weight down. Funny how all three of them didn’t feel like working out anymore after such a conversation.

Tony looks up as Bucky walks in his lab, forcing a smile. “Hey, Buck. I don’t really feel up to-”

“You lied to me,” Bucky accuses, and his voice is so full of hurt and anger that Tony turns his full attention to the man.

“What?” He asks. “I-”

“You told me he wanted me,” Bucky yells, hands clenching into fists. “You told me he wanted me. You told me he wanted a threesome. You said-”

“Bucky, why are you-”

“He never wanted me, did he?” Bucky says at a normal volume, voice breaking. “Admit it.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Tony says, and winces as Bucky looks away to keep his tears from falling. “What did you think happened?”

Bucky swallows thickly, and his voice is wet when he speaks several moments later. “I thought he wanted me, but just for a threesome. I thought he wanted me and he knew about you and me and he thought it would be a good idea and he was wrong.”

Tony stands, going closer to Bucky. “It’s not that different. He always knew it was a bad idea, so what? Isn’t that better? That’s what you said-”

Bucky pushes Tony away from him. “I said it was better that he knew we were--whatever we were, not that he never wanted it!” Bucky yells. “That he never wanted me.” His voice breaks on the word, and he turns away from Tony, unable to look at him.

“Why are you so worked up on if Peter wants you or not?” Tony asks angrily, losing his patience. “It was never about him, it was about the two of us being selfish together.”

Bucky turns around and starts backing Tony into a wall. His eyes are so filled with anger and hurt it scares Tony. “You aren’t this fucking stupid, Stark.”

“Maybe I am!” Tony yells in Bucky’s face, pretending to be braver than he is.

“Let me spell it out for you, then,” Bucky spits through gritted teeth. “Peter did not want to sleep with me, but I fucked him.”

Tony shakes his head. “No, you’re twisting it. He consented, he could have said no at any point-”

“Could he!?” Bucky yells, arm whirring in his anger. “You told me that you were going to leave him if he said no. What if he knew that? What if he knew that if he said no, you would leave him? What choice did he have?”

“No,” Tony pushes at Bucky’s chest. “You aren’t pinning this on me. I’m not a good person, but I’m not-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew!” Bucky yells, fighting the urge to hit him. “And you knew it! I said I would do it if Peter was okay with it, and he wasn’t!”

“Get away from me,” Tony gasps, shaking his head and calling his repulser. “Get away from me.”

Bucky scoffs, stepping away and stomping towards the door. “You were right, Stark. You can’t fix mean.”

Peter steps off the scale, sighing in annoyance. He lost his pound. He yawns and throws a clean shirt on, rubbing at his eyes; he needs coffee.

He’s just about to leave, when there’s a knock at the door. “I’m coming!” he yells, fixing his shoes on before opening the door. He freezes when he sees who’s on the other side. “Oh.”

Bucky is looking much more put together than Peter has seen him in a while. He’s dressed in a nice casual attire. His hair is washed and brushed; but most noticeably, he’s chopped it off. “Um...Am I interrupting?” he mumbles, looking down.

The fact that Bucky admitted to Steve yesterday about wanting Peter is making Peter want to do stupid things. “No. I was just about to grab breakfast, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Bucky seems to be losing confidence. “You should-you should do that, I was just-”

“Come in,” Peter says, opening the door wider. Bucky hesitates for a couple seconds, but he finally nods and walks in. Peter shuts the door behind Bucky, and turns to look at him. “What’s up?”

Bucky stares at his feet, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I...I wanted to talk to you,” he finally gets out.

“Okay,” Peter says, trying to sounds welcoming. “I’m here.”

Bucky finally looks up, makes eye contact. “I wanted to...um...I never really apologized,” he says softly. “And I have a lot of things to-”

Peter steps forward, taking Bucky’s hand into his own hands. “None of it was your fault, Bucky. Tony and I were never going to last.”

“Well,” Bucky clears his throat, and he squeezes Peter’s hands. “That, but also, uh...” Bucky looks away, swallows thickly. “I just wanted to apologize because I um...I know I should have realized sooner, and for that I’m even more sorry, but what I’m really apologizing for is...Look, I never would have slept with you if I knew you didn’t want me. I know I should have seen the signs, but-”

Peter kisses Bucky’s knuckles, and it startles the other man into silence. “I consented, Bucky, if that’s what you’re worried about. I did want you, still do honestly. I knew the risks of what we did. In my head, I was thinking that if Tony is going to leave me, at least I’ll get a really good fuck out of it. I was more nervous you didn’t want me, honestly. I knew he was going to leave me either way.”

Bucky stares at Peter for a moment, before he takes a bold step forward. “You did want me?”

Peter nods, starting to blush a little. “I just thought you were doing it because you wanted Tony. Like I was just...Just something you had to put up with because I was a package deal. I mean you couldn’t even look at me, you-”

“I don’t think,” Bucky interrupts with a whisper. “That I have the words to tell you how wrong you are about that.”

Peter’s breath hitches as Bucky’s face gets closer. “I-I mean, I would understand, you know how I feel about myself and my appearance, I’m not-”

“Can I kiss you, Peter?” Bucky whispers, and Peter can feel the breath on his lips.

This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. For so many reasons, not even just the obvious one. But- “Yeah.”

Bucky cups Peter’s face, one thumb rubbing against his cheek. He leans forward slowly, connecting their lips.

It isn’t magical. It isn’t like when you get a first kiss with someone you’ve been dying to kiss. But it’s so special.

Peter’s hands rest on Bucky’s shoulders, stepping closer. He pulls away after a moment, looking up with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you actually want me.”

Bucky kisses Peter again, this time with more passion and pressure. He backs Peter up into the wall, his hands slipping down Peter’s face and down his chest, down down down, until they rest on his hips, playing with the skin in between Peter’s shirt and pants. “Of course I want you. Hoe could I possibly not?” He kisses Peter again softly, before moving his kiss to Peter’s nose. Then up to flutter over Peter’s closed eye. He kisses his forehead, and then down his temple and cheek, to his jawline, nipping so softly but it still makes Peter gasp.

“You are so beautiful, Peter,” Bucky whispers, kissing just behind Peter’s ear. It makes the younger boy shiver in want. “Everything about you. Your beautiful eyes, your cute little nose, your sexy jawline...” he kisses under Peter’s jaw, and the sensitive spot makes Peter moan. “Your neck...” He kisses down Peter’s neck, and Peter’s hand fists into Bucky’s now short hair.

Bucky moves his hands up Peter’s shirt, feeling at his abs, as he reaches Peter’s shoulder. Peter pushes Bucky away and sheds his shirt, blushing and wincing as the self-consciousness sets in. Bucky only grins though, taking in the sight in front of him.

He kisses at Peter’s shoulder again, hands roaming Peter’s front. “Even your shoulders. God, the things I want to do to you...”

Peter moans as Bucky moves down, nipping at Peter’s collarbone. “You don’t have to-”

Bucky pulls away, pupils blown. He grinds his hard cock into Peter’s hip, and it makes the younger boy gasp and moan in the same breath. “I’m not lying. I want...God, I want so many things. I want to lay you down and have my way with you. You’re so pretty Peter, you have no idea. I couldn’t look at you because I wanted you so bad it hurt.” He kisses down Peter’s chest, hands moving back around Peter’s sides.

“Show me,” Peter begs. “Show me.”

Bucky grins, teeth sharp. He steps back, leading Peter by the hand to the bed. Peter turns and climbs backwards on it, laying down and letting out a shaky breath as Bucky hovers over him. “Tell me if anything is too much,” he says. He waits for Peter to nod before he picks up where he left off.

He moves one hand over Peter’s left pec, thumb brushing over the nipple. He licks the other nipple, kissing it wetly and breathing hotly over it. Peter keens, toes curling. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t love,” Bucky admits, nipping at the bud and making Peter jerk away from it. The older man chuckles softly, but he moves on, kissing down Peter’s tummy. “I’m glad you’re eating again,” he says softly, licking at the lines between Peter’s abs. His hands move back down to Peter’s hips.

Peter whimpers, looking away, embarrassed. “Buck...”

Bucky moans, and Peter looks back just in time to see Bucky grinding his cock into the bed. “Fuck, Peter, even your voice.” He kisses more downwards, pulling Peter’s pants down just enough so he can kiss the very top of his hip. “I could cum just listening to you saying my name.”

Peter feels tears fill his eyes, but he isn’t sad. He feels overwhelmed with Bucky’s desire for him. Even when things where great with him and Tony, he didn’t say things like this. “Bucky,” he moans, twisting both his hands in the other man’s hair.

Bucky groans, his forehead resting on Peter’s hip. His head happens to rest in just the right way that Peter can feel his hot breath on his cock through the pants. “Fuck,” Bucky croaks, and the deep, gravelly noise goes straight to Peter’s cock.

“Take my pants off,” Peter demands, lifting his hips and making Bucky’s head slip just a bit.

Bucky hums, happily leaning up and following his orders. The pants fall to the floor, and Peter's cock springs free, resting on his V. “Fuck,” Bucky whispers, kissing the shaft softly on the underside vein. “You’re so perfect.”

Peter blushes even more, pushing Bucky down with his grip in the older man’s hair. “More.”

“Yessir,” Bucky slurs, licking from his balls up to the tip.

It makes Peter moan loudly, and he bucks his hips up. “Bucky,” he whispers.

Bucky moans against Peter’s cock, hands moving from holding his hips to cupping his ass, pushing his hips up ever so slightly. He takes Peter into his mouth, one finger rubbing drily against Peter’s hole.

It’s almost too much all at once. He can’t decide if he wants to move his hips up into Bucky’s warm mouth, or press down against his finger. “Yeah,” he moans, all breathy. “Oh god, Bucky!”

Bucky moans around Peter, sloppily drooling all around Peter’s cock. The excess spit spills down his shaft, over his balls and in between his cheeks, which Bucky takes advantage of. He gets the area nice and wet with his spit, and then pushes his finger in.

Peter whines, legs wrapping around Bucky’s neck and he keeps his grip on Bucky’s hair. “Don’t stop,” he whines, wiggling his hips more onto the finger.

Bucky moans again, pressing as far down as he can, feeling the tip press into the back of his throat. He wiggles his finger around until he finally finds Peter’s prostate. He rubs over the spot in tiny circles, sloppily sucking around Peter as he does so. His other hand rubs back up Peter’s front, thumbing at Peter’s nipple in circles.

Peter cries out, tears leaking out of his eyes as he wiggles his hips to get more of each sensation. Every once in a while, he jerks his hips hard enough that his tip slips into the back of Bucky’s throat, and the momentary lapse of oxygen makes the older man choke and the muscles spasm around the tip, and- “Fuck!” he yells, pulling Bucky’s face harshly, smashing his nose into Peter’s pelvic bone. “Bucky, oh Bucky, I’m-” Bucky moans, and Peter is done for.

Peter moans louder than ever before, legs clenching around Bucky’s ears as he cums so hard he sees white. After he calms down, he blushes and releases Bucky’s head, feeling bad about trapping him. “S-sorry, I-”

Bucky moans, pulling away for oxygen and licking his lips. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He runs his hands up and down Peter’s thighs, and starts to nip and bite at them.

Peter whines at the stimulation, his whole body shaking. “Bucky,” he whines, and whines again wordlessly as Bucky breathes hotly over a new hickey.

“Never stop making those pretty noises, doll,” he requests, and he slips in a second finger almost without Peter noticing.

But he does notice, and he whines. “Hurts,” he pouts, clenching his hands into the sheets.

Bucky coos, pretending to be sympathetic before kissing the inside of Peter’s knee. “Poor baby,” he says softly, but he spreads his fingers apart anyway.

Peter sobs, his cock leaking with the after effects of his last orgasm still. It twitches in a valiant effort to get hard again, but it’s just too soon. “Bucky!” he whines.

Bucky growls, biting harshly at Peter’s inner thigh and leaving teethmarks behind. He adds a third finger, grinding his own cock into the sheets. “I love how tight you are for me, baby. Got a damn death grip on my fingers honey.”

Peter whimpers, putting zero effort into pushing Bucky’s head away. “Bucky...”

The older man pulls his fingers out, making the younger whine in disappointment. Bucky chuckles deeply, flipping Peter over carefully and resuming his fingering.

Peter whimpers, holding his pillow and pushing his hips back into the assault. “Bucky, please...”

Bucky groans, pulling his fingers out and holding Peter’s hips still. He kisses Peter’s shoulder, rubbing one hand over the other, enjoying the feel of it. He moves his hand down Peter’s shoulder blades, kissing between them and licking the sweat away. “God, you’re so perfect.”

Peter whimpers, his cock slowly hardening again. “Bucky, what are you doing?”

Bucky hums, sliding both hands up and down the planes of Peter’s back, before moving down to squeeze at his cheeks. “One day, I wanna give you a massage. A full body one. I want to touch everywhere,” he groans.

Peter whimpers at the thought, tears coming back. The idea that Bucky wants to do this again... “Yes. Yes, please. Bucky, I need you!”

Bucky groans, pulling back again and stripping himself as quickly as he can. He lowers himself, so his cock rests between Peter’s legs and rubs against his balls, and his chest is on Peter’s back.

Peter whimpers, feeling smothered in all the best ways. “Buck,” he moans.

Bucky growls, nipping at Peter’s neck and lifting his hips, rubbing it between Peter’s cheeks and the tip snags on his hole with every thrust. “What do you want, baby?” he breathes hotly over Peter’s ear, licking the shell. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Peter whimpers, rubbing his cock in the sheets. “I want you to destroy me, Bucky. Want you to make sure I can’t walk tomorrow. Want you to mark me up and make it look like I was ravaged. Please Bucky, want you.”

Bucky grins, biting down harshly on Peter’s neck and sucking. It makes Peter scream, and he uses the moment to push inside in one deep, slow, never-ending thrust. He doesn’t stop until his balls hit Peter’s, and a bruise is so clear on Peter’s neck there’s no way to hide it.

Peter’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and his jaw drops open in a silent scream; silent, because it feels like Bucky pushed all the air out of his lungs to make room for his cock.

Bucky laughs lowly, hot breath tickling Peter’s neck. “Already baby? So fucked out on my cock you’re already speechless?”

Peter whimpers, finally letting out a breath and sobbing on it. “Move!” he demands.

“Yessir,” Bucky drawls, his accent thicker than before. He starts to pull out slowly, before he slams back in. He starts a smooth pace, hard and fast enough to drive Peter mad.

Peter stops trying to hold himself up, crying into his pillow as he lays flat against the mattress with Bucky pinning him to it. The older man bites and sucks all over Peter’s neck, shoulders, and shoulder blades.

Peter ends up screaming as his release overwhelms him, sobbing brokenly into the pillow out of pure bliss. He almost whines when Bucky pulls out, but the older man simply jerks himself off so he can paint his release over Peter’s hole and backside.

Bucky pants heavily after, leaning down and kissing Peter’s neck again softly, right over a blossoming bruise. “Was that good, baby?” he coos.

Peter sobs again, barley able to twitch he’s been fucked so good. “Yes, fuck,” he breathes.

Bucky chuckles, laying beside Peter and pulling the sweaty boy into his arms. Peter whines, but he happily snuggles into Bucky’s chest.

Peter finally catches his breath, and then looks up at Bucky. “Did you mean it?” he whispers.

Bucky smiles down at him, and even though the angle isn’t flattering, Peter thinks it’s the best view he’s ever had. “Every word.”

#winterspider #starker #Gracie's New Years Resolution #my writing #fanfic #tw: eating issues #tw: past hurt

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