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bucks-babe · 2 days

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Change My Ways For You

Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader

Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good

Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one

A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!

“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing.

All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater.

“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”

You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.”

He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.

Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet.

Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.

You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student.

As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.

Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.

You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.

Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door.

“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting.

“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”

He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”

Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants.

He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.

“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.

The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming.

Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.

“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.

“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.

Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.

She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”

He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!

The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself.

Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.

“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.

“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”

There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”

As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.

Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.

He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.

The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?

“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”

“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.

“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second.

Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.

So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.

Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.

You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull.

“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.

“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.

Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.

“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.

“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”

“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.

“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”

Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”

“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”

You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”

The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.

“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off.

“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.

Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”

The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.

Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”

How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was.

You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”

“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.

“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”

Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall.

He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.

You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.

Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.

You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.

Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed.

Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”

You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.

“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”

The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.

You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.

“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you.

He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom.

He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.

You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”

Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.

“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”

You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.

The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.

He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him.

Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.

As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.

“C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.

“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.

“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.

Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.

You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.

But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips.

You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”

Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.

Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”

You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.

“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.

You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”

“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.

“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.

“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”

Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face.

The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”

You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.

You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.

Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.

Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom.

He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock.

“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.

Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”

Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.

He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.

He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.

Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours.

Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.

“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.

At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”

As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”

You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”

Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.

“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.”

“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.

“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”

If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.”

“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”

“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.

“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.

Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.

“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet.

“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.

“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.

“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.

Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.

“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.

“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathing, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.

“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.

“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly.

“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.

“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time.

“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.

You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you.

The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.

“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.

“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.

“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you.

“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.

“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.

Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.

You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be.

The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.

His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.

Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”

Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”

You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”

You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”

He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.

“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”

Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak my sheets.”

He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.

His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out on his bed consumed by the pleasure he is giving you.

“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.

When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.

“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”

A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”

Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you.

Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.

Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.

A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight.

You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.

All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”

You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over his sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.

“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would.”

You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to his nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”

Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”

Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on his bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were.

Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.

“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.

“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.

Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.

You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.

“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.

“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.

You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”

That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”

He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words.

“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed to him new to him.

He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together.

The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.”

Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.

He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”

Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.

Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.”

In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.

He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.

Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the highs of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.

“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.

Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done.

The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself.

“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.

When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.

You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.

Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?

“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.

“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.

“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.

“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.

“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck.

“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”

Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #fuckboy!bucky #bucky x f!reader #bucky fluff

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anika-ann · 10 months

Text

Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #medieval au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #lemons #pomiluj me #anika ann

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discocandles · 6 months

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so do y'all remember the post(maybe its a tweet idk) that's like "a hot goth who lives in the woods and when they answer the door, they sigh and say "no, i'm not the witch, he lives over there." and points to a dazzling pretty boy in a golden waistcoat waving excitedly at them. this happens 253 times a month."?

what if I said platonic stobin in a fantasy au?

Like when they go shopping in the market, some of the vendors are like "there's the local witch who lives in the woods, a very helpful soul." and passerby always assume it's the woman wrapped up in a dark shawl and flowing dress. but no, it's the himbo with the gorgeous hair dressed in a sparkly tunic.

and another part of the post was like "a fair maiden knocks on the goth lady's door and says she's here to find love. the goth sighs and points across the road like 'the witch is over there, but he doesn't do love potions. he could give you one for beauty, but it typically just makes you more confident.' to which the maiden sheepishly explains that she talked to the witch, and he sent her over here. to which the goth lady looks across the street and the witch is grinning and gives her a thumbs-up."

like do you see what I'm putting down here? Ronance? Buckingham mayhaps? Steve would definitely do this!

Or if they were to just move in together to solve the issue going to the wrong house issue? perfect, Steve and Robin are basically roommates anyway, you just add in some witchy shenanigans. Like them chatting/bickering while Steve is brewing potions? fantastic, unless it gets more rowdy and Steve adds a bit too much of one ingredient and almost explodes. or gardening together? immaculate.

anyway, fantasy au Steve and Robin owns my brain now

#robin buckley #steve harrington #platonic stobin #joyce is absolutely the market vendor who points out steve and robin to passerby. she's just so proud #fantasy au #stranger things #ronance #buckingham #goth robin buckley my beloved #witch steve harrington #if robin were to do a little payback and set steve up with eddie if he came by? it would be a bit of a disaster but we expected that #love potions are gross pass it on #st

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

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October 31 November 1 | costumes, anonymous sex, size difference | Bucky

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FFS

summary: You and Bucky meet at the Halloween party for the avengers. He quickly takes an interest and you end up in his bedroom. Happy late halloween and I hope we all enjoy.

warnings: anonymous sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), some anal play, shibari, dom!bucky (more like daddy bucky help), some definite cock worship, orgasm denial, there is some size difference hints, fluff.

side notes: Have I mentioned I love Sebastian Stan? Writing this had me taking breaks. Hence the day late. That being said, the two kinktober fics I didn't get to will come later, just not under the guise of kinktober. Because let's be honest, this is my wheelhouse anyway so I will keep writing it. Also, I didn't proof read it. Sorry. And, here you go @sweetieswiftie and @castlesnchurches.

You did this to entertain a friend who had just gotten dumped.

You didn’t think the two of you would get in.

There was a Halloween party at the Avengers compound. Your friend only found out about it because one of her friends got an invite. It consumed your friend’s thoughts. All she could think of was running into Thor, everyone’s favorite himbo.

You kept those thoughts to yourself because everyone always looked at you like you grew an ear on your forehead when you said it out loud. And that’s how you got here. You were leaning against the bar waiting for your turn to order a drink.

Meanwhile, across the room, Bucky couldn’t look away from you. Your costume was definitely not something he expected to see tonight, and you wore it VERY well. You were wearing black pumps, stocking covered legs disappearing beneath a rather form fitted military green pencil skirt, a khaki button up shirt tucked into it with a matching tie around your neck, your long hair pulled up in victory curls and a curled ponytail, with a military green WW2 nurses hat. Apart from that, your lips were painted cherry red and your large doe eyes framed with impossibly long dark lashes. You were essentially the image of what he dreamed about so many of those nights during the war, and his mouth ran dry at the thought of going to talk to you. Let alone like this. In a fucking Captain America costume.

Fucking bets,Bucky thought to himself.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure out what Bucky was staring at, either.

A slow chuckle came out as he followed Bucky’s eyeline to you before clearing his throat, “Buck, if you don’t go talk to her, do you mind if I do?”

Bucky laughed along with Sam until his face relaxed in a smile, and he gave him a pat on the back that was more than friendly, “Yeah, man. Go for it.”

You were absentmindedly rolling a cherry along your lip, waiting for your drink to be made, when someone walked up beside you, “I think that you must be feeling lonely.”

You slowly tilt your head to the side to see him. The favorite himbo. It’s not like you don’t get it. He is definitely attractive. But from what you’ve seen of him, the attraction ends there. You bite the cherry and smile before responding, “Well, that’s why I am ordering a drink. To lower my inhibitions to the point where I don’t care that my friend is over there trying to hit on Steve Rodgers. But she’d love you, though. Couldn’t stop talking about hopefully seeing you.”

Thor followed your eyeline to your friend, who went for a very slutty faerie costume and wore it extremely well. Her very ample cleavage was highlighted with glitter, and it definitely caught Thor’s attention. You watched him scoop up his beer before heading that way, not saying a single other thing to you. You watched her face react as he walked over. That was when your drink arrived, and you turned your attention over to a Dirty Shirley.

As you took a sip, someone walked up next to you, and you heard a smooth voice order water.

You didn’t pay much attention to it until you caught a bit of color from the corner of your eye. Stars and stripes, but not Captain America. You had to look to see who it was, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Someone was wearing the original Captain America costume. What you didn’t know what that it was the actual original costume. And wearing it was the Winter Soldier.

Bucky’s mouth lifted in a shy smile as you laughed and he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s so funny, doll?”

You took a sip of your drink before commenting, “Come on.”

“No really, what?”

Those blue eyes were impossible to not look into as you answered, “Your costume. We are dressed from the same era, cap.”

“…Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name…Bucky.”

“Bucky?”

Bucky groaned as you started trying to hide a smile. He should have gone with James. He knew better. Before you could say anything, he quickly added, “It’s a nickname. So.”

“So, Bucky, Buck? I like that more.” Bucky smiled softly as you played with the nickname on your lips before you asked, “Are you just a really big Captain America fan?”

“…yeah, I suppose you could say that.” Bucky wasn’t necessarily lying. Steve was his best friend. And the only reason his ass lived to see another day.

By this point, your drink was empty, and you had that comforting warmth spread across your face as you felt yourself relax just a bit. Holding onto the bar and leaning over, you quickly snapped back and looked up at Bucky, “Well, if it helps, you definitely have a much better ass than Captain America.”

Bucky’s eyes grew a little larger before his tongue ran across his teeth in response. A smile grew on his face as he answered, “I absolutely cannot wait to tell him that.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you know Captain America?”

At that moment the bartender came back over and asked if you’d like another drink. You thought about it for a second, “Just one, but could you make it with a double pour of vodka?”

The bartender nodded and started to make your drink as you turned your attention back to Bucky. Bucky decided to shift the attention to you, “Well, you know I’m a fan of Captain America. Are you just a really big fan of World War 2? Or of nurses?”

It took you a second before you realized and answered honestly, “I’m actually a nurse. However, my grandmother did serve in the war as a nurse. It’s how she met my grandfather, actually. This is her actual hat. Came here without expecting to. My friend found out she got cheated on. She dragged me out here and I needed a costume. Had everything for this, in some shape or another. She’s the barely dressed faerie covered in body glitter”- you went to point her out and was a bit shocked to find her with Thor – “who made very little time in getting her tongue down Thor’s throat. As much as I didn’t want to come, at least I’m not working tonight’s shift. Nothing could be worse than being in the ER on Halloween night. But, to answer your question, I suppose I am a fan of both.”

Bucky sipped at his water and decided to take a seat. It appeared you were open to conversation with him at this point. You noticed, though you weren’t necessarily against it. Your drink was sat in front of you, and you smiled at the bartender before saying thanks.

“So, you weren’t wanting to come here tonight?”

“Oh no, I’m not very big on parties.”

Bucky swiveled in the barstool to face the crowd, his elbows resting on the bar top as he leaned back and looked at you, “And what would you rather be doing?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Can I be honest without you judging me?”

“Of course, doll.”

You smiled a bit and tried to hide the effect of him calling you doll by taking another sip of your drink. He still noticed. Though, Bucky kept that fact to himself as you answered, “Burrowed under my favorite blanket on my couch, watching Outlander in my pajamas while eating takeout. Preferably from the Honduran place right down the road. I love a good fried plantain.”

Bucky laughed before responding, “So, literally the complete opposite of what we have happening here.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

At about the same time, Steve found Sam, “Hey man, have you seen Bucky anywhere?”

“Yeah actually. At the bar, but I wouldn’t interrupt. Pretty sure he bruised my back earlier when I joked about going over there.”

Steve looked over and saw Bucky and shook his head. The man always did have a type back in the day. He didn’t expect someone to come in wearing it to a t, though. He smiled a little. Bucky definitely needed this, even if it didn’t necessarily go anywhere. You and Bucky were the only ones unmoving at the bar, passing the next hour in conversation until Bucky had an idea, “Want to take a look around, doll?”

“Wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

“Not at all. You’d be with Captain America, remember?”

You laughed and took hold of his offered hand. When he pulled you to stand, you landed on your feet pressed against him. You decided you enjoyed it. Your voice was a bit shaky as you looked up at him, “Well then, I can’t argue against that. Besides, I’d follow that superior ass anywhere, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened a bit as he looked down at you, before leaning in and whispering, “Good to know, doll.” The way his breath landed on your skin with the feeling of his stubble grazing your neck, you felt shivers. However, you were snapped out of it as he stepped away, giving your hand a light tug as the two of you left the party area.

About another forty minutes later and you found yourself pinned against the wall of a bedroom; a bit breathless as Bucky’s mouth came crashing down on yours. The feel of his tongue moving against yours was positively delicious and you wanted more. Your shaky fingers undid the chin strap of his head piece and then pulled back on the head piece, dropping it on the floor. He pulled back. You smiled a bit wickedly before commenting, “You’re definitely better looking than Captain America, too,”

“Oh doll, I definitely can’t wait to tell him you said that.” And at that he kissed you again before lowering his head to kiss along your neck, teeth grazing at the sensitive spot just below your ear. The feeling had you moan, and Bucky used his lips to suck the same spot, causing your breath to catch in your throat, your hands threaded through his hair urging him onwards.

He stilled when he realized something, “I don’t even know your name, doll.”

“I think I prefer you calling me doll, Buck. That’s what I want you to treat me like, tonight, anyway. Your doll. To do with as you wish.”

“Careful what you wish for, doll.”

“Oh, but I have been, Buck. So, show me exactly what you want to do.”

Bucky’s metal arm traced the curves of your shape before finding the slit at the back of your pencil skirt. Eyes never leaving you, he gave a vicious pull. Just like that, you skirt was gone in tatters. The only proof of it left was the band that wrapped around your waist. Your heart rate picked up and your legs pressed together. Why was that so hot?

Bucky’s hand trailed along your legs, admiring them now that they were exposed to him. His fingers stopped at the soft lace tops where the clips of your garter belt held them in place, “I quite like these doll. They’re gonna look so nice when I’m deep inside you, legs wrapped around me. But there’s still more of you to see, isn’t there?”

You nodded feebly as his other hand traced the line of your jaw before he kissed you again. This time he didn’t break the contact as he ripped at the fabric of your shirt. He continued pulling away the scraps until you were wearing nothing more than your black balconette bra, black lace panties, and garter with stockings and shoes. It wasn’t lost on you when he took a step back and gently placed your hat off to the side. Then, he looked at you again and you suddenly felt so exposed since he was still very much covered.

Nodding at his outfit, you asked plainly, “Aren’t you going to let me see you?”

“Oh, I’m right here to undress, doll.”

You took a step forward and slowly worked on the top of his outfit until it was off, your eyes falling on the metal of his arm. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him. You were curious to know what exactly happened, but you realized it was not the time or place. However, for some reason, you felt drawn to place a kiss on it gently. Bucky’s nerves at what your reaction might be dissipated immediately at the act. Fuck me, she is perfect.

He made a mental note to definitely get your name once this was all said and done before your hands began to work on his pants. Unable to get them undone, you kneeled down and palmed him over the pants as your free hand worked. When you looked up at him with mischief all over your face, he thought he could cum just like this.

Then, you finally got his pants undone and slowly pulled down, freeing his cock.

You grew wet looking at it. It was perfect. You stopped pulling down his pants, leaving them around his knees. Looking back up at him, a smile graced your lips as you took hold of him at the base. Slowly, you licked and sucked the precum from the head of his cock and Bucky’s head fell back at the contact. Emboldened, you took him into your mouth slowly, your tongue massaging the underside as you did. He hissed a bit before murmuring, “Fuck, doll. That mouth of yours. I look so very forward to using it tonight.”

You were choking on him, and you only had a little over halfway of him in your mouth. As you went to pull back his hand grabbed the base of your neck and held you there instead. Your eyes were watering and drool was leaking from the corners of your mouth. With a bit of a smile, he slowly pulled his cock back just enough for you to gasp air before tilting his hips and rocking back into your mouth. He did it again and again, starting to gain speed, until he was fucking your mouth. He was giving you praise, “You look so beautiful like this doll, those full red lips stretched around my cock. Bet you didn’t see yourself here tonight, did you?”

A choked moan escaped you and Bucky had a blissed out look on his face, the vibrations of your moan feeling like heaven against his cock.

“Why don’t you use those hands to tend to the rest of me, doll?”

Immediately understanding, you wrapped one hand the lower end of his shaft, your drool giving more than enough lubrication as your other hand cupped his balls. As you began to stroke him, that combined with your mouth had Bucky under a spell, “Fuck doll. Never felt something so good in my life. You’re taking care of my cock so good, aren’t you?”

Another moan escaped you at his words. You weren’t sure what was coming over you. Never before had you actually enjoyed giving a blowjob, but you were a wet mess for him right now. Bucky looked down at you with admiration and lust. The sight of your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as tears slowly rolled down your cheeks nearly undid him, the taste of his precum on your tongue evidence of that. Then, he pulled out of your mouth entirely, and you felt the loss more than you wanted to admit.

Bucky gently pulled at your hair to guide you to stand, and when you did his metal hand wrapped around your throat as he kissed along your neck, “I’m so curious how turned on you are just by sucking my cock, doll.”

You felt the warmth of his flesh as his fingers trailed along your inner thighs. He felt the slick of your arousal before he reached the lacy of your underwear, “Oh doll”- a sudden move and your panties joined the rest of your clothes on the floor, his fingers slowly sinking into you as you gave a cry –“this messy pussy is all because of me, isn’t it?”

All you could do was nod as his fingers started working you over, the sounds of your pussy taking his fingers loud and messy, breathy moans coming out of you as he continued.

“You love taking care of my cock, don’t you doll?”

As you finally worked up the ability to answer, his palm came into contact with your clit and you mewled, “Y-yes…pl-please Buc-Bucky…”

“Please what, doll?”

“I’m so…m’so close.”

Bucky pulled his fingers from you, your walls tightening to desperately try to keep him there, and as you whimpered at the loss, he gave gentle shushes while slowly circling your clit, “It’s alright doll. I’m gonna make you feel so good once you take care of me. Thoroughly. I’m gonna make you so cockdumb that messy pussy of yours is going to milk me dry, yeah?”

With that, he stopped his ministrations and led you to the bed. As you climbed onto it, your legs shaking, Bucky instructed rather simply, “Hang your head off the side doll.”

As you did, his hands quickly pushed the cups of your bra down, the heaviness of your breasts falling out. You vaguely heard him say, “I look forward to seeing my dick between these perfect tits of yours doll.”

Before you could fully think about that though, you saw him finish taking those pants and boots off before he nudged your lips with his cock, and you opened for him. You weren’t aware just how much being in this position opened your throat until he got much more of his cock in until you gagged, giving him the stopping point. And then, he began to move. You were lost in the action, moans coming through as you realized what you must look like right now. He was fucking your mouth as you lay on the bed, and you were loving it. The sounds were even turning you on.

Thinking about his hand earlier, your fingers slowly ventured to your clit, and you let out a loud, smothered moan as you pressed against it. That caught Bucky off guard, and he slowly stuttered to a stop, cumming towards the back of your throat. You swallowed every last bit of it.

Much to your confusion, he pulled back and walked away, disappearing around a corner. You flipped over, pushing up from the bed before you called out, “Buck?”

He was back after a few moments and that was when you saw what was in his hands. Rope. Bucky smiled wickedly at your nervous expression before he kissed you again and explained, “You said you’re mine to use tonight doll. To do with as I wish. That also means your pussy is mine for tonight…and I didn’t say you could touch it, now did I?”

A heat spread across your face as you shook your head no.

“That’s what I thought, doll.”

After a swift time, you were firmly tied up. The ropes were wrapped multiple times around your thighs and linking them to your waist so that you were unable to stand up if you tried. To further force your ass into the air, you had more rope tied around your wrists and pulling you down, anchoring them to the bed frame.

“Mmm doll, you look absolutely perfect. And, like this, I can use every part of you I want to without your interference. What do you think about that, hmm?”

You didn’t answer and Bucky gave a slap against your ass cheek, before running his fingers along your folds, “When I ask a question, I expect an answer, doll.”

Pulling against the rope, you felt the bite of it in your skin and it only turned you on more before you answered, “I think I want to feel your fingers again, Buck.”

“Greedy doll.”

You could hear the approval in Bucky’s voice, though, and he gave you what you wanted. The warmth of his fingers ran along your folds more until he slowly sank his ring and middle fingers into you. You let out a moan and then, “Just your fingers feel so good Bucky.”

He was going at a lazy pace, enjoying the way your pussy sounded as he sank those two fingers into you. You were so tight around just that and he knew once his cock was inside of you, you would be screaming his name at the stretch he would give you. Bucky was so curious to see how you taste, though. So, he pulled his hands back and when you opened your mouth to protest, you felt the weight shift on the bed and his warm breath fell on your clit. Then, he slowly ran his tongue along your pussy and hummed in appreciation at the taste.

His tongue delved into your pussy as his hand snaked around your waist to press on your clit, rolling it with his fingers and he continued lapping up your arousal greedily. Incoherent moans fell out of your mouth, unable to even begin expressing how good his tongue and fingers felt. Then his tongue fell on your clit, his hand falling away, and you were so close. However, Bucky could feel it, and backed away.

He decided to distract you instead, “Tell me doll…”

His fingers dipped into you and came back out covered in your arousal, playing with the tightness of your ass, “Just how much of you can I do with as I wish?”

A moan ripped through you as his finger slowly massaged and began to push against your asshole, slowly sinking into you, “…all of me.”

“Is that right, doll?”

You were moaning once again as his free hand began fingering you again, the other still slowly delving into your ass. Bucky was pleasantly surprised with just how much you were willing to let him do, and he wasn’t going to let this go without praise, “Look at you, taking me like a good doll. You’re enjoying this aren’t you, doll?”

He eased off of your pussy again right before you released, letting you cool off before continuing. You didn’t have to answer. And to be honest, you weren’t sure that you could. This felt so good and if you tried to answered, it would just be a mess. Eventually, he worked his entire finger inside of your ass and after you grew accustomed, he began moving it in tandem with his other hand and you would fall limp if only you were able, “Mmm Bu-Bucky, please le-let me cum”- you moaned as he picked up speed –“pleas, please!”

It wasn’t his original plan but fuck if you were so hot like this. You were being such a good doll for him, too, that he didn’t want to deny you. And soon, you were screwing your eyes shut and your breathing was picking up before you cried out for him and your eyes opened, seeing nothing but white as your orgasm ripped through you.

You felt the loss of his hands, but soon you realized the head of his cock was pressed against your slick folds, running along them slowly. As you let out a gasp, Bucky nearly growled, “I’m nowhere near finished with you yet, doll.”

And with that, he sunk his entire length into you, and you let out another moan at the sensation as he let out a praise, “That pretty pussy is so tight for me, doll.”

Slowly me pulled out and thrust back in and you let out a cry as he brushed your cervix and soon, he was picking up a brutal pace. All that could be heard were both of your moans and the sound of his skin slapping against yours. You felt too good for him to try and deny you now. So, as he slammed into you and you could feel your orgasm approaching, you expected him to deny you and when he didn’t it slammed into you, and you were crying out for him again. He didn’t relent as you came, and instead reached his hand around your hip to play with your clit as he fucked you to a whole new high. Your next orgasm came fast and just as he said, you were an incoherent, cockdumb mess and with the way your pussy was spasming around him he came deep inside of you without a second thought.

Bucky was still deep inside of you as he leaned over and kissed you gently on your shoulder before gently pulling out.

With a smile, he walked around the bed and freed your hands before kneeling before your face on the bed. Your eyes were heavily lidded, and your face was full of bliss and Bucky smiled at you before running his thumb along your lower lip, “Open for me, doll.”

Riding the effects of your orgasm high, you simply did as he asked and you eagerly licked his half hard cock, admiring the way that you tasted with him before slowly sucking him. You continued doing so until you could feel his cock responding, partially wondering why he had so much damn stamina.

Bucky murmured something that you couldn’t hear before he gently pulled away and undid the ropes holding you. Just as gently, he flipped you over onto your back and spread your legs. A blush spread over your face and chest as you felt his previously release begin to trickle from you and you couldn’t think of anything else to say other than a sheepish, “Hey.”

Bucky licked his lips before smiling shyly back at you, “Hey.”

You suddenly felt so exposed, and you were hoping he wasn’t judging you, so you quickly said, “I normally don’t do this.”

Bucky stilled as he lined up his now hard cock with you, “Have sex?”

“No!” You realized you shouted it a bit and winced which caused Bucky to laugh a bit as you took a breath, “I normally don’t have sex with men I’ve just met. I just…don’t want you to think less of me is all.”

“Mmm doll, that just means I have had the absolute luckiest night.” Bucky slowly sank into you, his arm reach for your leg and guiding it to wrap around him. This felt so much more intimate. Bucky slowly thrust into you, his lips falling on yours before he continued, “The luckiest night, with quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, doll.”

And just like that, you spent the rest of the night with Bucky, his stamina finally giving out a few hours later and at that point you fell asleep in his arms.

Once the sun rose you were wakened by the bright light. Looking around, you realized Bucky had an arm slung over you and that was when you saw the clock by the bed. It was eleven in the morning?! You felt a panic building. You were supposed to start your shift roughly two hours ago.

You slowly worked your way out from under Bucky’s arm and looked around, realizing your clothes were not an option to leave in. Also, you remembered last night and realized that was definitely proof of Bucky all over your thighs. Shit. Looking around, you spotted a bathroom and was relieved that he had a shower. You made quick work of cleaning yourself up, doing your best to not dwell on how fantastic his soap smelled, jumping out and drying off. Then, you looked at his dresser and tentatively opened the top one and sighed in relief when you saw he had t shirts in there.

Pulling one over your head, you were happy it was black to hide the fact that you weren’t necessarily wearing a bra. Then, you found sweatpants and pulled them on, tying the drawstring tightly around your waist. All you needed to do was get to the room the party was in last night to grab your purse with your phone and keys. Creeping over to the door, you looked back at Bucky. You weren’t sure if you should wake him up or not.

After a few moments, you slipped out of the door with your heels in hand, a sheet of scratch paper on the nightstand with your name and number, along with a quick ‘aka doll’ scribbled beneath it.

Getting a bit turned around, you quietly went through a door and when you turned around to walk forward you came to a sudden stop. There, eating what appeared to be a brunch spread, were Captain America, Black Widow, Bruce Banner, Captain Marvel, Thor, Antman, and a few other Avengers that you didn’t recognize. They silently looked at you as you silently looked at them. Then, coming through the door in just sweatpants was Bucky.

“Mmm, good morning doll.”

His arm reached around your waist and pulled you closer, kissing you thoroughly. You felt a blush spread across your face, considering the audience. Bucky though? He smiled cheekily before adding, “I like you in my clothes. Only thing better is you out of them.”

At that, the audience watching the both of you suddenly resumed eating their food as though they weren’t eavesdropping, loudly resuming their conversation.

"You forgot this." Bucky brandished your hat and you took it with a warm smile, "Thank you, but also I'm very late for work."

“Stay for food and I’ll bring you home myself so you can get ready, then I'll take you to work.”

“Bucky, I don’t know how that’s going to help my situation.”

“Well”- he pulled you closer and you felt his hand pressed flatly against your back beneath the shirt you wore –“maybe they’ll be more forgiving when the winter soldier tells them it is his fault you are late, as he needed your help with official avengers business. What do you say?”

Your eyes grew large when you realized what he said. Holy shit. You had sex with the winter soldier. Well, at least that explains the stamina. Bucky chuckled at your face as you realized, and he leaned down and kissed you once, twice, three times. Then, he gently guided you to sit at the table with that hand on your back before he disappeared to get you a plate of food.

#kinktober 2022 #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #dom!bucky #shibari #hope everyone enjoys

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stevebabey · 1 year

Note

RUBY!!! Hii!! Congratulations on the follower milestone!! I am going to say this again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN but you're one of the most amazing and talented people I have ever come across on this hellsite and I think you deserve this AND SO MUCH MORE!!

Now I have heard great things about Family Video and a certain himbo employee so can I pretty please request no. 9 from list 3 ❤️‍🔥

Sending you so so so much love!!!!

- @etherealforever234 <33

HI!!!! firstly, u like seriously flatter me 🥹🥹 i am feelin GOOEY u actually make writing things like this so easy!!! cos i want 2 write for u and its all luv!!! i'm sorry it's mayhaps a little later than you expected but alas, i think u will still enjoy MWAH LOVE U @etherealforever234 1.4k nd whoops r kinda gives loser vibes in this (loser gf anyone? luveline has like coined that phrase hehe)

You’re expecting him to be gone by eight. Nine at the latest.

The clock on the wall ticks closer to to 10pm and you unwillingly keep tabs on it, driven by your restless anxiety. You should be watching the show on the grainy television screen ahead of you, really. Especially after you jokingly bickered with Steve over the film choice for so long and he finally gave in and fed your pick into the VCR.

But you’re not focused on that either. If your eyes aren’t darting to check the clock, all your focus is zeroed in on the feeling of Steve’s thigh pressed against your own.

It might as well be searing a scorch mark into your skin; you’re sure the feeling might be imprinted in your memory forever. His warmth seeps into you. Somehow, it feels like he’s both defrosting hidden worries within you and setting you aflame. Hopes rise and yet, with them come a dozen other new worries.

Despite his closeness, still, you really were expecting him to be gone by eight. Why is he still here? It’s a little uncomfortable to admit it to yourself but you know the confusion stems from the fact people don’t tend to stick around with you.

Steve seems to be an exception.

You check the clock again and try not to think too hard about how nice his closeness is. How you’re already missing it when he hasn’t even left yet. The hand on the clock shudders with every second it ticks around the clock-face. Steve sees your motion, his eyes silently checking in on you, and a frown crinkles his brow at your distracted state.

“Everything alright?” He asks, voice a bit raspy from under use.

You startle just a bit, head whipping towards him beside him. He’s watching you close, amber eyes sincere and expression open. Surprise sprouts within your chest; he must have noticed your fidgeting attention.

“What? Yeah, yes, everything’s fine.” You assure him with a nod, maybe a bit too eager. “Everything alright with you?” You ask nervously, just to check.

Steve laughs a bit at that. He presses his knee against yours purposefully, a gentle knock. Pairs it with a sweet smile.

“Yep,” He smiles, pink lips not at all distracting you in the least. Your gaze darts to the moles on his neck and back to his face as he continues. “You just keep checking the clock. Want to make sure I‘m not... y'know, overstaying my welcome.”

His words dip at the end, clipped by a tone of worry as he turns back to face the screen ahead a bit, pretending to re-tune in. Steve’s been working on toning it down, trying not to be too intense too quickly. Both in the interest of protecting his heart and trying not to scare you off.

But shit, you’re lovely. Steve’s not entirely sure he’s got a choice in this; his heart feels like it might crawl its way out of his chest just to be nearer to you. It’s particularly insatiable when you’re this close. Thigh to thigh. He can smell your perfume and he’s fairly certain it’s put him in some lovesick state of delirium.

Still, he can read people. Your insistence on checking the clock implies you want him to leave and yet, he can hear the tiny hitch of your breath when he leans closer. Confusion muddles together in his brain.

From the way surprise flickers across your features, you don’t actually want him to go. Some part of him sighs in relief before you even open your mouth to reassure him.

“What? No! No, no way.” The words come out a bit squeakier than you want. You curse yourself for somehow letting him believe you want him gone when it’s quite the opposite you want.

Steve nods, his face earnest enough to tell you he believes you. He shifts on the couch, turning back to face you and inadvertently leans in closer. Swirls of his cologne rush your senses. You hate how your brain tries to commit it to memory in an instant. Fuck, he’s pretty.

“So,” Steve starts, licking his lips in a nervous motion. He gestures with his hand, “The clock?”

Shit. You’ve accidentally cornered yourself. You can either let Steve stew, not quite believing that he isn’t just imposing on you and your time, or tell the truth. It somehow feels even more pathetic now than ever.

“I just,” You start, tearing your eyes off his face. Your throat grows a bit thicker and your fingers find a thread on your pants to toy with. “I’m... surprised you’re still here. That you want to be here. And, y’know, spend time with me. Still.”

It doesn’t feel any greater to say aloud. Eyes fixed in your lap, teeth worrying your bottom lip, you miss the way Steve’s eyes widen. Some wave of hurt curdles up inside him, sour and sore, because fuck, you’re waiting for him to leave? Not because you want him to but you’re expecting it?

Screw trying to tone himself down. Steve knows his heart is on his sleeve and he’ll be damned if the one time he tries to shelter it, it backfires. The words come out easy, without a lick of a lie in them.

“I want to spend all my time with you.” He says sincerely, another press of his leg against yours to drive the message home. He means it completely.

That has your head tugging up. Steve’s heart gives a painful little twist at the utter surprise on your face.

“You do?” You ask.

He pushes on, ignoring the urge to ask who made you feel like such a burden and whether he could throttle them. “I like you. I mean, yeah, of course, I wanna spend time with you.”

He says it so flippantly, casualness dousing every word, like it was a thought he’d thought a thousand times. Heat flames in your chest, brilliantly warm, and curls up to your face. You let out a breath, a little shuddering quiet laugh of disbelief.

“Oh.” You say. The smile curling at the edges of your mouth is impossible to fight. It’s a full blown grin by the time you meet his eyes again and shuffling closer feels like an instinct you can’t ignore.

“Me too.” You admit, nerves still piling in your chest but damn, if the elation of hearing those words doesn’t beat them by a mile. “I mean, I like you too. As well.”

Steve rumbles out another chuckle but you can see how delight dances across his face. His shoulders sit a little lower, grin a little more confident all of a sudden. His knee nudges yours again, for what must be the umpteenth time this night. Forget scorching, he’s burning into your side — the touch unbearable in the best way now you know he wants you. Wants you like you want him.

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat, you and I.” He says simply, wiggling his arm out from where it’s sandwiched between the two of you. He pulls it up to his face with a clenched fist, covering a yawn, and it takes about another second for it to click — when he stretches the arm up, above your heads, and lets it settle down around your shoulder.

God, that’s a move. You’re nearly ashamed of how well it works on you, considering your stomach twists up gleefully. He’s flirting with you.

“Sounds like it.” You breathe out, voice escaping you a bit at how much closer the two of you are now his arm is around you. Steve’s breath fans across your face, his eyes locked onto your face. They roam your face, drinking in the details, paying particular attention to your mouth.

You lick your lips without meaning to and decide you can’t wait til another evening together, hours away, to know what his lips feel like. Steve will not be the only brave one tonight.

Leaning in, you give a moment's pause, to let him give you a sign to back off. To see if the universe will pull the rug out from underneath you, for this to be some cruel joke.

Steve nods, the tiniest motion. This close, you can see the smallest quiver of his lips. You do your best to kiss it away, trying your hardest to contain your smile with your lips against his. From the way Steve smiles into the kiss, you’re sure he doesn’t mind.

#this has a wee diff structure i think ? to my normal stuff?#idc it still reads nice and i like it :D #and EVERYONE SAY HELL YEAH #I GOTS ANOTHER ONE DONE #IN ONE NIGHT WA H O #that's actually not that impressive its like 1.4k lmao #ruby writes steve #ruby's very own tour of hawkins #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve harrington blurb #stevie blurb!#LOVE U HONEY THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!!

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miss-spookhead · 20 days

Text

thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 9 days

Note

Could you do school with the greasers POV soda, (if he hadn’t dropped out) centering mostly on soda, steve and two?

I decided to do headcanons and then a fic for this one fam but yes ofc pookie also love ur account btw @sodapopprotectionsociety is freakin gold (natures hardest hue to hold) ((sorry I couldn’t help myself))

———————————————————————————

-their dynamic during school

-it’s fuckin comical

-I mean, the pretty boy, the class clown, and the mechanic? It’s a combo alright

-always goofing off in class

-I think that the teachers hate Sodapop more than Two Bit 💀💅😭

-because they think he doesn’t care when really he’s just a lil slow

-they think he’s such a himbo 💀💀

-and I feel like the teachers hate having them in class together 💀💀

Mini Fic incoming !!!!

“Oh, look, it’s the Golden Trio. Better have my damn coffee this morning.” That’s the sentence I was greeted with whenever I walked in the classroom with my best buddies, Steve n’ Two Bit. “Boy, Mrs. Brown sure does hate us.” Two Bit said with a teasing smile. I grin, winking at Two Bit. “I ain’t know why. We ain’t nothin less of angelic.” Two Bit laughs loudly, walking over to Steve as we take our usual seats by the window. Not too far up front, not too far behind, and close enough to the window we get free entertainment whenever class gets boring. And it almost always does. I mean, I ain’t stupid. Well, maybe I am. Just a bit. I guess I sorta gave up tryin’. I mean, I tried at first, listenin’ to the teachers and such but the words always kinda blended into each other, always too slow or fast. No one ever really gets it. But, if I’m forced to be in this classroom that ain’t mean I can’t have fun. The teacher is ranting on about The Great Gatsby or somethin’ like that, meanwhile I practice my shooting skills on a cute girl sitting on the other end of the room, grabbing a white sheet of paper and crumpling it, and chucking it at her with Two Bit. She gives us an irritated look, giving us a lovely finger gesture as we cackle, and before I know it the very familiar sound of Mrs. Browns footsteps make their way to the front of my desk. I give her my most charming grin, which usually works in my favor, but apparently not for her as she gives me a pointer finger towards the outside of her classroom, only spitting out two words: “Principal, now.” “Whoa Whoa Whoa Mrs. B, we was only havin some fun!” Two Bit exclaims with a grin a little too smug. “Now!” She repeats impatiently, and I give her a nonchalant grin and finger guns, swaggering out of the classroom with Two and Steve, wincing as I try not to think of the lecture i’m surely going to get from Darry as soon as my ass is home. I give Two and Steve a knowing smile “You two really feel like going to the principals?” I ask as they shake their heads. “Why don’t we go treat ourselves to a coke for our… outstanding behavior?” Steve quipped with a smug grin as me and Two began walking out the front doors of the school. “Y’know, I think that may just be the best idea you’ve had in a while, Stevie.”

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sunflowerharrington · 2 years

Note

could you write a smut for tate langdon?

i sure can!

Pillowtalk.

summary - Um… Yeah. It’s more fluff than anything.

notes - I will admit I miss AHS and how invested I used to be in the fandom, but now I’m hyperfixated on a heroic metalhead and his himbo boyfriends (eddie and steve and billy). Also I literally just got an ask to stop writing about fictional serial killers but I’m still here writing about one right now. I know it’s Kyle in the gif, shhh, I know that. Thank you for the ask, @tateak47!

warnings - 16+, referenced sex, Tate Langdon, mention of underage sex since it’s kind of impossible to age up a ghost. No violence or canon season one events mentioned.

word count - 303, sorry that this one’s a bit short! I wanted to get this one done for you <3

taglist - @quickiesgirl @taecube @sunnymunson @sympathyforher @langdon-cumslut @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @wzrlds @in-love-with-will-byers dm, comment or ask me to be added or removed, I won’t be offended :)

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your skin, peppering kisses up your neck, slowly pulling out as he did so.

He lay on his back next to you, soaking in what just happened. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. You and Tate look deeply into each other's eyes. A warmth washes over you as he leans in and slowly kisses you.

His lips are so soft, as if he's caressing your mouth with his kiss, the gentlest of touches compared to a few minutes ago.

After moments of bliss, Tate leans away and meets your eyes again. His gaze is tender.

“How are you so amazing?” You giggled at his praise, cheeks blushing.

“And how much more romantic can you get?”

“There's so much more where that came from.”

“Oh really?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You’re gonna sweep me off my feet?”

“Give me some time and I reckon I can.”

His free hand moves to cup your cheek and tenderly stroke your jaw with his thumb. You bite down on your lip, your teeth grazing over your skin as he leans back in.

You grin at each other and chuckle.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re cuter,” you say, rubbing your nose against his in an eskimo kiss.

He scrunches up his nose and an adorable pout forms on his face. “No you.”

“No, you!”

“Shut up, Y/N!”

“No, you shut up, Tate! It’s settled then,” you declared. “You’re cuter.”

Tate lets out a frustrated groan. “You’re impossible!”

“And you’re adorable.”

“No I’m not,” he grumbles like a child.

“Yes you are!” You argue back, pouting.

“Are we really doing this again?”

“Yup,” you say, prodding the tip of his nose with your finger. “And I’ll keep doing it until you agree with me.”

#american horror story #ahs #tate langdon #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #american horror story: murder house #tate langdon fluff #tate langdon x reader

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spicysix · 2 months

Text

girls make me wanna die

"the way we met not so unique / on the internet we make up things / a different story every person we see i'm writing poems and they're all online / under a different name, nothing like mine / i tried to tell her once, on a drunken night / but it came out all fucked like a bad pickup line i don't know when i fell. she doesn't know as well"

rating: T warnings: Eddie's trans in this fic, it's not a major plot point but it is a major Eddie characteristic heh. also, this is an Edancy fic, meaning Eddie and Nancy and i know that's not everyone's cup of tea so please for the love of god if you're not interested in this pairing, keep that to yourself, scroll the page, leave the fic untouched. don't like, don't read, all the maners. i think that's it word count: 6.1k author's note: fic idea and title from the song of the same name by The Aces. written for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanwork Challenge, for the prompt "rooftops". yes, i know i'm a little bit late (just six months), but it is Summer where i live right now so i think it still counts lmao. thanks again for hosting @thefreakandthehair ♡ also super thanks to my beautiful betas robin (@ronancevibes) and frankie (@blubblesandink) ♡

↳ read on ao3

I DON’T KNOW WHEN I FELL

The first time Eddie saw her, she thought she was a mirage.

It was Steve’s birthday party, and since the guy was still as popular as he used to be in high school, his house was packed. Eddie hadn’t seen her when she first arrived, and she later found out it was because she had been upstairs finishing getting ready with Robin.

But as she came down the stairs, all dolled up, a true femme divinity of Eddie’s most sapphic dreams, the neon lights were hitting her just right in a way that encompassed her with pink, purple and blue all around and it was one of the prettiest sights Eddie had ever seen. Eddie stood right at the end of the stairs and stared up at her, jaw on the floor, probably drooling all over her chin.

She probably could’ve fallen right then and there.

If she hadn’t looked at Eddie, still standing dumbly in the way, up and down with her eyes narrowed and lips turned down into a frown before she opened them to say, with the most velvet smooth, passive-aggressive voice Eddie had ever heard:

“Can you move?”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

Eddie kinda wanted to bitch-slap her for it, but her own body betrayed her as she moved out of the way instantly and she smiled at her — almost fondly, but venomous, also all passive-aggressive and, honestly? Delicious.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Eddie was pissed off and aroused to her deepest corners, and she would later find out that it wouldn’t be the first time Nancy Wheeler would piss her off and still have her do whatever she demanded with that silky way of hers.

Eddie didn’t see her anymore at all after that at the party, and still had no idea who she was for a whole week before she ran into Robin at the grocery store. She asked her who the girl was, describing her looks and clothes. She tried not to be too obvious about her annoyance and also attraction to the mystery girl, and she thought she succeeded because Robin didn’t shoot her one of her bombastic side eyes.

“Oh! Short curly bob, about yay high?” Robin asked, gesturing somewhere around her chin level. Eddie nodded as she turned to pick up some sugar. “Yeah, that’s Nancy.”

Eddie stopped with her hand mid-reach. “Steve’s ex, Nancy?” she asked.

“The one and only,” Robin snickered and Eddie blinked a few times in shock before proceeding with her shopping.

Eddie thought she knew a lot about the infamous Nancy Wheeler, because she had befriended Steve right after Nancy had broken his pure little himbo heart, almost eight years before. She knew Steve and Nancy had worked things out and were friendly now, but didn’t know they were friendly enough for Steve to invite her to his birthday. She shared those thoughts with Robin, who chuckled teasingly.

“Oh, sweet summer child. You have no idea of the intricacies of our friend group, do you?”

That was true. Eddie knew of Steve and Robin’s friend group from their hometown and she knew that it was a whole beautiful mess off queerness, but she hadn’t met anyone but Robin so far, even with the almost eight years of friendship with Steve — and probably only knew her because Steve and Robin were glued at the hip. She knew of Nancy, and of Jonathan, and of course, knewRobin’s girlfriend Vickie, but didn’t know what their intricacies were.

She was honestly a little scared to ask at that point, so she just shrugged and Robin and her continued their shopping talking of other stuff from then on.

She saw Nancy again a couple of months after Steve’s party, because then it was Vickie’s birthday party, and at least this time Chrissy was able to go so Eddie wouldn’t have to be stuck to Robin the whole night.

“I’m so glad I’m not missing this one. I mean, Vickie’s a great girl and of course she’s the main reason, but that Jon boy was looking delicious in the pics Steve posted and I’m so sad I missed seeing him looking like that,” she was rambling on and on about her crush as she reapplied lip gloss on the way to the bar Vickie chose to have her small party at. “Did you meet him at all?”

“No, I only saw him passing by. He did look good, smelled amazing too,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Ugh, you’re no good as a best friend. You know I’ve been in love with him ever since Steve posted that picture last November! You had to befriend him!” she complained but she had a smile on her shiny pink lips.

“You can’t be in love with him, bitch, you don’t even know him,” Eddie replied.

“I so can, bitch. I feel it in my tits,” Chrissy ended the discussion as the Uber parked in front of the bar, and they left it laughing loudly after thanking the driver. “In my heart, I mean. Under the tits. If he’s not here today I’ll leave immediately!”

“I’ll tell the birthday girl you said that,” Eddie sing-sang as she started walking faster towards the bar entrance. Chrissy yelled after her as they walked through the doors still laughing.

To Chrissy’s delight, the Jon boy was there in all his scrawny glory where he sat across from Vickie at the table they reserved for the birthday. Vickie was excitedly talking to him about something, gesturing all around her as Robin looked at her with pathetic heart shaped eyes. Nancy, sitting beside Jonathan, was also paying attention.

No, she was not the first person Eddie noticed.

Eddie and Chrissy approached the table and Steve lit up at the sight of them from where he was sitting on the other side of Vickie.

“There they are! My favorite sapphics club is complete!” he was getting up from his seat as he talked, and Vickie wrapped up her story before getting up to greet them too.

Jonathan turned to Nancy and they whispered between them, and Eddie would’ve thought they were talking about Vickie’s story if Nancy hadn’t shot her a look from over Jonathan’s shoulder. He then looked over too and smirked before turning back to Nancy and saying something that made her hide a laugh behind her wrist.

“Why do you surround yourself with so many sapphics anyway?” Chrissy asked as she and Steve separated from their embrace, and Eddie finally tore her look away from Nancy and Jonathan to hug Vickie tightly.

“It’s the ally in me,” Steve answered and it got him a slap from his favorite sapphic who had also gotten up to greet the newcomers.

“You’re literally queer too,” Robin said as she made grabby hands at Chrissy for her own hug. Steve just cackled and shrugged.

They finished their greetings session and both Eddie and Chrissy handed Vickie their gifts — a matching set of earrings and a necklace — before walking back to the table. Aside from them, Jonathan and Nancy, there were only a couple more people that were introduced as Vickie’s work friends.

“Nice to finally get your name,” Nancy said with a smirk when Vickie introduced her to Eddie.

Eddie narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ask for it when you were bossing me around like a bitch last time.” Eddie didn’t made clear who the bitch was. It was on purpose.

Nancy’s smile only widened with her answer as Jonathan hid a snort behind a cough.

“She tends to do that,” Steve said as he pulled a chair for Chrissy to sit at beside him.

“Excuse me?” Nancy asked, but she was still clearly being playful.

“Yeah, no, he’s right,” Jonathan said before sipping on whatever drink he had.

Nancy rolled her stupidly beautiful blue eyes. “Love when my exes team up against me.”

Eddie thankfully wasn’t drinking anything yet or she would’ve choked on liquid, and that would be worse than choking on thin air —which she did.

“What?” one of Vickie’s coworkers thankfully asked, and all of the long-time friends laughed together.

“Oh, isn’t that a long story…” Vickie giggled to her friend who just shrugged:

“We do have all night.”

Long story short, they all had had relationships in some way.

Not like Eddie or Chrissy could judge, since they both met Steve on different nights out and they both hooked up with him in the respective back alleys of the clubs they were in, and Chrissy and Robin were definitely flirting before Robin went all monogamist-serious with Vickie. And they wouldn’t judge even if it didn’t make them hypocrites because there was nothing wrong with all that anyway, but that’s an obvious statement.

But none of their things with each other had been serious or even consummated, meanwhile it was kind of funny that Nancy dated Steve and then Jonathan, and Jonathan dated Argyle who had been in the bathroom and appeared in the middle of the story, and who was now on his journey to woo Steve into a relationship, and Nancy and Robin also had a fling at some point and so did Jonathan and Steve.

Eddie felt tired at the end of the retelling and she had been sitting down the whole time.

“Ah yes, the amazing queer experience,” Vickie’s coworker who had initially asked commented at the end of it all.

They all laughed at that and the coworker — Eddie really didn’t get their name — waved a bartender over for some shots. Once they were delivered and everyone had gotten one, Coworker started a toast.

“To Vickie, and her hometown friends who all fucked each other!” they toasted, and everyone laughed louder as they clinked their tiny cups together before throwing the shots back.

Those were just the first shots of many that night, each round with a more ridiculous toast to accompany the ‘To Vickie’ one every time.

After a few hours Chrissy was best friends with Vickie’s coworkers, and Eddie still had no idea what their names were, and instead had found her way in between Jonathan and Argyle as they all talked about photography, an art they all shared their love for. Jonathan was actually a photographer himself. The talk went from classic photography, analog to digital, and just as they started talking about Instagram accounts, Chrissy stopped by, whispered something right by Jonathan’s ear that made him blush, and they left together. Eddie and Argyle traded knowing looks and continued the conversation without the person who had begun it, and soon Nancy took Jonathan’s seat instead.

“What’s the talk?” she asked while sipping her fruity cocktail that Argyle then took from her and drank before answering.

“Our favorite Instagram accounts. We were talking about photography, but…”

“Oh!” Nancy took her phone from the pocket of her dress — a dress with pockets, amazing; Eddie thought — and opened the app. “It’s not photography, but this one is my favorite of all times. It’s so inspiring to me,” she said as she found the profile she was looking for and then turned the screen for Eddie and Argyle to look at.

Eddie had a really hard time trying not to choke on thin air for the second time that evening.

The profile Nancy was showing was a poet’s page, by the name of M.W. and who posted small, handwritten poems with a beige and brown color palette, a drawn sheet ghost as their profile picture. Clearly anonymous, even with hundreds of thousands of followers, the person behind the poems and the page didn’t want people to know who they were.

The person behind the poems and the page was Eddie.

“What-” Eddie tried to talk, failed, cleared her throat and tried again, “What do you like about it?”

Nancy got this look on her face that Eddie hadn’t seen before so far. Something fond and sweet, her blue eyes like pools Eddie wanted to drown in. Her smile was wide and it turned her face to something entirely different, all the sharpness and sarcastic expressions Eddie had been graced with so far transforming into earnest softness.

“I’m a journalist, and I love writing and sharing stories. Poems have always been something I wouldn’t do, because they all seemed so hard and too complex and I always thought ‘normal’ people couldn’t do them,” she explained, looking Eddie in the eye the whole time. She was like Medusa, and Eddie was trapped paralyzed under her stare but with no intention of leaving any time soon. “And then all these modern poets came around on social media, and they have always spoken to me in some ways, but Emme…” She looked down at her phone screen again, that same soft look that made Eddie’s brain short-circuit. “I don’t know what it is, but they talk to me so personally. I love everything they write. They are delicate with words without losing their candidness, and forthright without losing their gentleness. I just… I’m very impressed and inspired by them.”

Maybe it was then.

Eddie, of course, had no idea what to answer to that. She received comments and messages every day about how her writing helped and affected people, but it had never happened in person because no one knew who she was. That was different. Nancy’s words echoed right into her chest, making it swell with pride, but she didn’t know how to respond. She just stared at the girl before her, hoping her expression wasn’t giving her away.

“That’s so nice, dude. They’re really nice poems,” Argyle said as he rolled through M’s feed. “Do you not like them, Eddie?” he asked, and Eddie shook her head to get out of her wandering thoughts before glancing at the screen Argyle was showing her.

She didn’t need to look too hard, she knew every single poem there by heart.

She shrugged. “I don’t… think too hard about poems, I guess,” she lied without thinking, already trying to come up with other topics she could suggest to stir the conversation before she admitted anything.

The only person who knew she was the one behind M.W. was Chrissy, and Eddie wasn’t ready to make it public — probably never would be. The words were too personal, open windows to her soul that she carefully curated, that she poured so much of herself into and she wasn’t ready to share the backstage of.

Eddie saw as Nancy’s eyes hardened again, as she shut her jaw firmly and she felt immediately sorry for her lie. She didn’t want Nancy to retreat, she liked seeing her vulnerable side. The side of Nancy that related to Eddie’s own vulnerability, even if she didn’t know it.

“Too bad.” And then she gave Eddie that sneering look, the same as she did from her superior level at the stairs of Steve’s house, that up-and-down look that made Eddie’s face turn into a scowl instantly.

Both their jaws clenched and they narrowed their eyes at the same time and stared at each other for what felt like hours, but was probably less than a minute, before getting up to walk to different directions, headed to different groups of other people to talk to.

“What the hell happened, man?” Argyle whispered softly to himself as he was left alone with all the tension still hanging in the air.

Eddie replayed that conversation in her head for many days after Vickie’s birthday. The gnawing feeling in the bottom of her stomach that threatened to burn her from the inside out appeared every other hour.

Why the fuck did she lie about not liking poems?

She didn’t have to tell them the truth about being M.W., but she could still have said something nice about Nancy’s passion for the poems. Not dismiss it completely, making it seem like she was a total bitch, causing Nancy to go back into her distrust, closing the doors to her vulnerability. Making Nancy think Eddie had no interest in her interests at all, like she was still holding a grudge over nothing, like they couldn’t bond over something they both loved.

The what-ifs and the should-haves kept eating at Eddie’s brain, sometimes so strongly that it was overwhelming, and she didn’t relax even a little bit about it for almost three weeks, when she met Chrissy for their monthly brunch together.

“What’s up with you today?” was the first question Chrissy asked over their mimosas, no need to be at Eddie’s side for long to realize that something was giving her anxiety.

It caused Eddie’s shoulders to slump down and her throat to get a little less constricted. Just knowing Chrissy cared enough about her to notice the small signs of her distress made some of the fog in her brain dissipate. It was easy to tell her everything after that, the scene she had caused, the disappointment in Nancy’s eyes, the way it made Eddie feel like shit. Chrissy heard it all quietly, attentively, as if Eddie’s life depended on it because she knew that Eddie felt like it did at the high of her anxiety.

“I think you like her more than you care to admit,” Chrissy answered at the end of it all.

Eddie didn’t like that Chrissy’s mind went straight into that area instead of comforting Eddie, but she rationally knew that Chrissy wouldn’t bring that up if it wasn’t relevant.

“Chris, I don’t even know her-”

Chrissy interrupted. “And I think you should be honest with her.”

“I can’t tell her-”

She did it again. “I’m not telling you to come out to her as Emme, I’m only saying you could honestly tell her she makes you kinda nervous and you stumbled over your words near her, and you said things you didn’t mean because you couldn’t think through.”

“Can you stop interrupting me!” Eddie whined. “Oh, so I just have to make a fool of myself in front of her? Solid advice, Chris, thanks.”

“Why’d you ask for my help if you’re gonna complain about what I say?” She asked, swirling her cup around.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Chrissy!” Eddie all but shouted, her voice a raspy tone, and Chrissy stopped mid-movement. Eddie instantly regretted it. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Ugh, I’m so stressed out over nothing.”

She hid her face behind her hand, embarrassment making her cheeks burn up, but she soon felt Chrissy’s cool hand on top of her own. It was soothing once again.

“Sorry I pushed too. It’s not nothing, Eddie, I swear. I still think you can be a little more honest with her if you ever see her again, though,” Chrissy still advised.

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it,” Eddie answered.

“And I still think you like Nancy more than you want to admit,” Chrissy continued.

Eddie let her hands fall from her face and stared into Chrissy’s blue pools. They reminded her of other blue pools.

Nancy’s pool blue eyes hardening over Eddie’s words, the way her jaw shut tight, the clinical look she shot at her. Nancy’s pool blue eyes softening over talking about Eddie’s words, the blush on her cheeks, the adoring speech she gave about Eddie’s soul without even knowing.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right about that too,” Eddie finally admitted.

Maybe it was then.

Summer was approaching and as the temperatures started to rise Steve hyped them all up for a lake day. Eddie took Chrissy, Robin, Vickie and Jonathan in her van; and Steve, Argyle and Nancy went in his car. They all brought snacks and smuggled drinks amongst card games and inflatable buoys.

The lake wasn’t packed because summer vacations still hadn’t started and the middle schoolers, high schoolers and college students still weren’t free to enjoy the scalding Sun and the cold water, so Steve’s idea was great after all.

Eddie waited until the Sun wasn’t at its peak to venture under its rays, because she was as pale as a vampire and the Sun was a menace to her just the same as it was to the blood-sucking monsters. She’d burn instantly. So she covered herself in sunblock, hid under the shadow of a big tree with one of Wayne’s old caps on her head and a book in her hands, and watched as her group of people had their fun.

Steve and Chrissy were playing with a volleyball in the sand, while Argyle and Vickie went against Jonathan and Robin in a game of chicken in the water with Nancy as the referee. Eddie had fun people-watching, and when it came to some of her new favorite people it was even better.

As midday approached, they all gathered under the barely-there shadow to eat their snacks and escape the dangerous Sun beams at their high. Argyle had some pre-baked space brownies for dessert and they all shared stories and laughed about nonsense. Eddie felt happy that she and Chrissy were finally being more included into the lives of Steve and Robin, and that their friends came along. It felt like they had always belonged there, as a full group. It was amazing.

When both the Sun and Eddie weren’t as high anymore, she finally felt safe enough to take off her shirt and cap. With another sunscreen layer applied, she stretched a bit before asking Chrissy to join her at the shallow ends of the lake. The pebbles hurt her feet in a good way and the smell of damp earth was refreshing.

“How’s it going?” Chrissy asked.

Eddie looked at her and saw that she was staring ahead. She followed the line of vision and saw Nancy taking a few laps in the deeper parts of the water. She instantly knew what Chrissy was asking.

“I might have been stalking too much on Instagram,” she answered, and Chrissy cackled.

“Does she follow you?”

“Uh, no. Her profile’s open,” she finished and Chrissy almost choked on her laughter.

Eddie tried to hide her smile, but Chrissy’s snorts were endearing even if they were at her expense.

“What are we laughing so hard about?” The subject of the conversation appeared out of nowhere, Robin and Vickie behind her as they approached.

Chrissy laughed harder.

“Uh, just this dude. You guys don’t know him.” Eddie tried to act casual, but Nancy’s raised eyebrow showed she wasn’t buying. Thankfully, she also didn’t press further. “Uh. Nice bikini,” she pointed at Nancy’s torso, immediately regretting it.

Nancy looked down, as if she didn’t remember what she was wearing. There was nothing special about it, just a different color in each of the little triangles covering Nancy’s breasts, but now all the attention was in it, on them, and Eddie felt like a complete fool. If she wanted Nancy not to know about her stupid not-crush, talking about her fucking boobs wasn’t the best course of action.

“Thanks?” she said, kind of asked, as her answer to Eddie’s random compliment. “Yours is pretty too.” She smiled sweetly, and Eddie was a hundred percent sure she didn’t deserve that kindness.

“Not just the bikini,” Vickie whispered a little too loud, causing Chrissy to fall into her laughing fit again. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was so out of pocket.” Her freckled face was all red, and Robin was hiding a grin under her hand, and Nancy was suddenly looking at the water, brows pinched, pink cheeks, perched lips.

Interesting, Eddie thought.

“Ah, don’t be,” she answered Vickie. “I paid a hell of a price for them, they’re supposed to be admired.”

“Wait until you’re at a level three friendship clearance and you’ll get to see them uncovered. Maybe even touch,” Chrissy said, still in between chuckles.

“Well, yeah, I want to show them off!” Eddie spoke up.

Nancy coughed loudly. “I’ll go back to the-” she stopped herself and never finished her sentence before practically running back to the water, her body curving in a beautiful dive once she was deep enough.

Eddie felt glad she was still wearing her shorts, cause the tightness in them could get a little uncomfortable.

“You guys are funny,” Robin said, arm draped over Vickie’s shoulder, and her pointed look at Eddie’s profile seemed to mean something more.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked.

Robin chuckled a little louder. “You and Nancy would get along real well if you stopped dancing around each other,” she answered.

Eddie bit the inside of her cheek before turning to look at the lake again. Nancy wasn’t doing laps anymore, instead she was talking to the boys. As if she felt Eddie’s eyes on her, she also turned to look back to the shore, and her gaze met Eddie’s.

She smiled so sweetly. As if Eddie had never insulted her, as if her vulnerability had never been hidden, she smiled the same way Eddie saw her smile when she talked about M.W’s words.

Maybe it was then.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie lied, without ending her eye contact with the girl on the water, and her senses were so focused on only her that she didn’t even hear Robin and Chrissy’s snickering.

She really had to stop dancing.

Chrissy went to Eddie’s house and ruined her life on a simple Friday.

“You’re being so dramatic,” Chrissy said while Eddie paced around her living room, fingers tangled in her hair, and her phone still in Chrissy’s hand.

Eddie knew it had been a horrible idea to download Tinder to get over her not-crush on Nancy, and she knew it had been a horrible idea to tell Chrissy about it — but she went ahead and did both of those things anyway.

It started harmless enough, Eddie and Chrissy sat side by side, a bottle of wine shared with no need for glasses, a random movie on the TV as background noise. Chrissy giving her input on Eddie’s bio, her picture choices, the people she swapped right or left.

It started harmless enough, until Nancy’s profile showed up.

Only a few miles away, a stunning profile picture that made Eddie’s heart almost crack her ribcage, a bio that Eddie couldn’t even read entirely because suddenly her phone wasn’t in her hands anymore, and Chrissy was locking herself in the bathroom.

No amount of Eddie’s banging on the door made her get out, not until she felt like her mission was complete, not until after she swiped right on Nancy.

And then Eddie was spiraling, pacing around her living room while Chrissy finished whatever wine was left in the bottle, the movie had ended on the TV and Tinder was left open and forgotten on Eddie’s phone.

“You acted like a bitch and you know it,” Eddie said, and Chrissy only huffed. “Christine!”

“Calm down, I’ve told you already! It’s not like-” she paused mid sentence when the phone screen lit up. Chrissy’s eyes grew comically larger, and she bit her bottom lip tightly, the skin under her teeth going pale. “So, about that-”

“Christine!” Eddie yelled again, throwing herself on the couch and aiming for the phone already. “Please, for the love of god and all that is holy, please tell me she didn’t just-”

“You have a match,” Chrissy confirmed Eddie’s worst nightmares.

“FUCKING HELL!”

It was undeniable, right at the center of the screen, big bold letters in a way that Eddie couldn’t blame on drunkenness because she hadn’t even drank that much. She had a match with Nancy Wheeler.

“Why is that a bad thing? You have a crush on her anyway, you just learned it’s reciprocated?” Chrissy asked, already getting up to fetch another wine bottle.

“What if it’s a joke. What if she swiped in the wrong direction as an accident. What if she sat on her phone and butt-matched me. What-”

“Eddie, stop spiraling,” Chrissy told her, a new wine bottle in her hands that she passed to Eddie in exchange for the phone again. “We’ll keep watching whatever movie this is,” she checked the TV, saw the movie was over, “We’ll watch whatever other random movie and get your head out of this and tomorrow you’ll wake up renewed and look at this situation with fresh eyes and see it’s not that bad. Okay?”

“You just don’t want me to yell at you ‘cause you know it’s your fault,” Eddie grumbled.

“I won’t lie to you, my best friend, that is partly the reason.” Chrissy chose another random movie without really checking what it was. “But I also really don’t think it’s such a big deal.”

“Whatever,” Eddie whined again, but draped her head on Chrissy’s shoulder when she sat beside her.

She was warm, and smelled of berries and coconut, and she had Eddie’s phone so she couldn’t do anything stupid, and she usually knew better. She was probably right. Eddie let herself be comforted in the presence of Chrissy’s calming aura.

Eddie ended the night having no idea what the movie was about, her mental state a little over tipsy and a little under drunk, her phone back in her hands and the Tinder conversation with Nancy Wheeler opened.

She came to learn a lot in between one and six A.M., the time she spent talking to Nancy while Chrissy still snored beside her.

Nancy had a younger brother and a younger sister.

She loved ballet.

Her favorite singer was Madonna.

Her parents were divorced, and the day they told her the news was one of the best days of her life.

Some of her hobbies included journaling, roller skating, and painting her nails.

Her best friend was named Barb, and she was studying abroad for her PhD.

She legally owned a gun. That was terrifying. (And also a little hot.)

She had never used it, though. But felt safe having it.

She was power driven, passion driven, a force to be reckoned with, and kind and sweet while doing it all.

Maybe it was then.

Neither of them acknowledged the fact that they both had been assholes to each other, and just accepted the Tinder match as if it had been nothing more. Nancy had started the conversation as if they had already texted before, and Eddie just rolled with it.

They talked all night, and Eddie could’ve kept talking to her if she hadn’t passed out from sleep deprivation and alcohol consumption.

She only noticed the next afternoon, when she woke up, that she tried telling Nancy she was M.W. at the peak of her insanity, but thankfully had never sent the message.

She deleted it and said nothing else instead.

Eddie saw Nancy sooner than she expected — and, honestly, sooner than she was ready to.

She and Nancy hadn’t talked after that day, not at all, not on Tinder and not on Instagram after they followed each other. Nancy liked a couple of Eddie’s pictures and stories, and Eddie liked some of her stuff back, but that was it.

She thought it had dwindled out, she was too much of a coward to pull Nancy back to a conversation and thought Nancy had no interest when she also made no move to message Eddie again.

Eddie was nursing a minor heartache when she asked Chrissy to go with her to a party one of her neighbors invited her to merely a week later. It was at the rooftop of another building, fairy lights still turned off during the day but they would look beautiful by night, the Sun was warm and they had punch, so Eddie thought it to be the perfect place and opportunity to get her mind off of Nancy Wheeler.

Imagine her surprise to see Nancy Wheeler there?

Chrissy spotted her immediately, elbowing Eddie until she noticed too. She looked beautiful under the sun, all sparkly makeup and flowy dress and pulled-up hair. And Chrissy gave Eddie no time to think or react before pulling her by the hand straight into Nancy’s direction where she was talking to a short-haired girl.

“Christine, stop, what if they’re-”

“Nancy! Hi!” Chrissy didn’t let Eddie pour out her negative thoughts, and instead called to the source of all of Eddie’s most recent problems.

“Chrissy!” she smiled, oh so pretty. “And Eddie!”

Eddie didn’t want to get all delusional, but she felt like Nancy’s smile to her was wider than the one to Chrissy.

Chrissy hugged her, and soon came Eddie’s turn, and if she put a little more strength into her arms, and if she made it last just a second longer, and if she carefully sniffed Nancy’s hair — well, that’s her problem.

“So nice to see you two. This is Barb!” She looked at Eddie as she said it, maybe to see if Eddie remembered that conversation, and Eddie could never lose that opportunity.

She took a deep breath, inhaled some courage from the air, turned to Barb and said, “Heard only the greatest things about you.”

Barb smiled, and so did Nancy, and maybe, yeah, maybe Eddie was a little delusional and maybe she was a little biased but Nancy’s smile was wider and prettier and more important.

She touched Eddie’s arm after she hugged Barb, and she looked Eddie right in the eyes and there was something there — some gratitude, some recognition, Eddie wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there.

And maybe it was then.

“So… what about that poem page? Still digging it?” Eddie asked hours later, when Chrissy was hooking up with a stranger in the bathroom and Barb had gone home already.

Nancy turned to pay attention to her immediately. They were leaning against the rooftop’s half-walls, Eddie’s jean jacket over Nancy’s naked shoulders cause there was a funny cold little breeze.

“Yeah, of course,” Nancy answered. Her eyes were sparkling, and the sun was setting, and the fairy lights were on.

She looked breath-taking.

“Still your favorite?” Eddie asked again, just because she needed to have that little pinch of Nancy Wheeler’s approval, even if Nancy had no idea.

“Still my favorite,” Nancy answered again, her eyes narrowing but smile widening a bit. “You still hate poetry?” she asked instead, and the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth was the only hint that she wasn’t as serious, that she was just teasing.

“I don’t hate poetry,” Eddie said with an accompanying eye roll and a small smile of her own. “I actually envy them. I wish I could say stuff that makes you feel… the way you feel. Instead of constantly annoying you.”

She kept a smirk as she said it, but it was a deeply honest confession. Of course, it was her words making Nancy feel the way she felt. But Nancy didn’t know that, and if she didn’t know that, did it really count?

Nancy’s expression softened as Eddie said it, those blue pools opening up for her again. Eddie felt like she would never get tired of it.

“You don’t constantly annoy me, just sometimes… most of the time,” she teased and nothing about her face said sarcasm and Eddie smiled wide back at her.

Nancy’s hand found Eddie’s, her fingers small and delicate and they fit right in between Eddie’s fingers, and it felt like it was meant to be, like the perfect puzzle pieces. There was music somewhere around them, lots of chatter from all the other people, but it all felt so distant as Nancy held Eddie’s hand so tight it almost hurt but it didn’t because it was her.

Maybe it was then.

Eddie wasn’t sure when she fell for Nancy Wheeler, but she knew for sure that’s when their story really started.

SHE DOESN’T KNOW AS WELL

Six months later

“I knew it already,” she said.

Her hair was a bit longer by then, curling around her head like an aura and getting all knotted up right with Eddie’s hair as they laid side by side in bed. The air smelt like sex, like them, and the streets outside the window were quiet in the middle of the night.

“The fuck you did,” Eddie answered.

“I’m an investigative journalist, Eddie, of course I knew you were Emme like, two weeks after we started dating.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, and Nancy snorted. She knew Eddie wasn’t actually mad. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Nancy instantly sobered up. “Cause it’s important to you. I wanted you to tell me, whenever you were ready. That’s your soul, Ed.”

It definitely wasn’t then, it had been long ago.

But it was then that Eddie confessed it, out loud, almost screaming in a whisper:

“I love you.”

Nancy smiled, her blue eyes two huge pools of vulnerability, that sweetness that poured out of her like honey.

“I don’t know when this happened. But. I love you too, of course.”

#edancy #eddie munson x nancy wheeler #edancy fanfic #edancy fic #edancy oneshot #nancy wheeler x eddie munson #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #lui writes #lexssummerfanworkschallenge

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Text

Thor NSFW Headcanons

Thor x plus size reader

Warnings: The whole thing is smut dudes, mention of things like breeding kink, primal play, threesomes, masturbation

Minors DNI

Thor can do anything from make love to hate fuck, it really just depends on his mood

He only really makes love to someone if they’ve been together for a while but considering he’s a whore, it’s incredibly rare

He adores when you wear lingerie. He loves that you get all dressed up for him, highlighting your generous curves

But don’t expect that fabric to last more than 10 minutes, he always rips it off you

If you’re not ready to have sex, that’s fine with him, he’s content with a few kisses and some hugs until you are

But he will definitely be extra loud when taking care of himself if he knows you’re around

Definitely a secret switch but hasn’t found anyone strong enough to physically overpower him yet

If you call him “my king” or “my god” he will fuck you so hard you won’t be walking right for the next month

Say “I love you” just as he’s about to cum and he will legit faint

Loves when you get on top, easier access to your heavy tits and he gets to see your perfect body as you impale yourself on his cock

Speaking of Thor’s dick, it is godly (no pun intended)

It is incredibly long and fat with a thick patch of dark blonde hair at the base

It has a slight curve to it so it hits your g-spot perfectly every time he thrusts in

He cums buckets

Like an insane amount

He loves to cum inside you, it doesn’t matter if he’s wearing a condom or not

If you don’t want him to cum inside you, he likes to cover your chest or stomach

The first time you had sex, it wasn’t even full on sex because he could barely fit the tip inside you

He goes feral when you say it’s too big for you

Major size kink

You almost dislocated your jaw when you tried to deep throat him

Thor would happily live off your pussy if he could

Every opportunity he gets, he’ll drop to his knees and eat you out

Once he did it right in the Avenger’s kitchen

Sam still can’t look you in the eye

Likes quickies but prefers to have full on sex so you can be worshiped the way you deserve

Has accidentally proposed marriage while having sex with you

Went a little bit like this:

“Thor!” You wailed, nails clawing at his muscular back as he gave a particularly hard thrust. His blonde hair hung down over his face, creating a curtain around your head. He was so lost to the pleasure that only grunts escaped his kiss swollen lips which still glistened with your earlier release. Your breath stuttered, another powerful orgasm washing over you. You clamped down on his cock and arched into the god, pressing your soft tummy and breasts to his tanned chest. Thor released a low whine, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “I can’t wait to make you my queen.” He murmured, fully not expecting you to have heard, his own release washing over him

He totally doesn’t have a little notebook in his bedside table about your dream wedding

Doesn’t get jealous very easily, he trusts you entirely but when it comes to Steve Rogers, all bets are off

I mean did you see his face when Steve moved Mjölnir in AOU

He gets insecure sometimes, especially after the blip and his changed body

So if you take the lead and worship him like the god he is, he falls in love all over again

But when you’re insecure, he will pin you down and ravage you until you don’t have a bad thought in your head

Actually, you won’t have any thoughts left (Read: Emotional Support Himbo)

Contrary to popular belief, after missions/battles, Thor gets really soft with you

In the past, he may have taken someone to bed and fucked them to get rid of excess adrenaline

But now, he goes slow after battle

He makes love to you in the most tender way possible. He never wants to hurt you and after seeing so much death and destruction, he just wants to remember that there is still good in this world. You.

Now, as your relationship progresses, his kinky side starts to come out

Has definitely made you ride Mjölnir

One of his wildest fantasies is taking you to the woods somewhere and having you run from him so he can hunt you down and fuck you

It would be even better if it was storming too so he could claim you under thunder and lightning

BREEDING KINK

Thor is literally the god of fertility so he wants kids

He wants them bad

If you don’t want kids, that’s cool, he’ll just pretend to breed you

If you do want kids, say goodbye to your pussy because the second you tell him that you both can start trying, he’s not letting you leave the bed for a long time

Also, he would totally be down for a threesome (or moresome 😉😉)

He just doesn’t want to bring in anyone that you or him could have a romantic attraction to, he really doesn’t want to lose you

He’s ok with any gendered person you would want to bring in, he just wants to make you happy

Just not Steve

Ok maybe once

Or twice

Thor is definitely a soft top, he loves to take care of you and have all your needs met but will not hesitate to punish you if you have been a brat

He prefers overstimulation as a punishment

King of aftercare

Will do/get anything that you could ever need or want to make you comfortable and happy

He prefers taking a bath with you after sex but if you’re too tired, he’ll just clean you up and lay you down on his chest so you get get some rest

Overall, Thor is not only the god of lightning, but also the god of sex

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

Thor

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@pretty-npeach

@raajali3

#thor x plus size reader #thor x reader #thor odinson x plus size reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x y/n #plus size reader #female reader #fluff #reader insert #thor odinson #thor x you #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x y/n

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uris-stanley · 2 years

Note

steddie fic recs pls!

YES YES THANK YOU get ready i have a LOT

chelsea by randomascas is a popular one, but for good reason. ft background ronance, tragic eddie backstory and steve being on the brink of death yet again. canon compliant excluding volume 2 (which i suggest we do <3)

the backseat lovers by froggieyama doesnt have a plot, but god does it describe their love in such a beautiful, lovely way

whole lotta love by @stereobone is such a quintessential steddie fic. steve and eddie are dating. steve does not realise they're dating. i love my bi himbo king. (this one is explicit, but honestly i don't think the sex is all that graphic and it is just one part, so read at your own discretion)

you got me running like a hurricane by @anniebibananie is the ultimate fix it, in which eddie doesn't actually 100% die in the upside down and instead finds his soul tethered to steve. basically. this one's very sweet, whilst also having a tiny bit of angst to make you go "ouch"

keep me in your glow by birthdaycandles ( @steveharrington ) is very nice. eddie helps take care of steve post volume 1, which apparently includes doing steve's skincare because of course it does. they're so cute

we're just kids in the dark by fagurfiskur ( @perlukafarinn ) is the fruity four sleepover fic of my dreams. nancy brings tequila, eddie brings pot, steve gets his hair braided and everyone has a fun gay time. also shotgunning!!

L is for linoleum (and nothing else) by localman ( @locallmann ) is a heavy one, i'll admit, but i cannot recommend it enough. there is an unfortunate lack of trans eddie in fanfics currently, and i feel this one does a really good job of realistically representing both his and the others' struggles as queer teens in the 80s. see individual chapter notes + the fic tags for tws, but i seriously implore you to read this if you're comfortable

sir stephen strider find his suzie by @lesbianrobin is VERY very cute. steve fills in for lucas during hellfire, and dustin witnesses steve and eddie flirting like crazy during the campaign. honestly, this one made me giggle a lot, and i left it feeling all warm and nice. the way the author writes steve and dustin's relationship just DOES IT for me because it feels so natural and so them. also dustin's little spiral about maybe being homophobic has been on my mind since i read this. god i love it.

another one by lesbianrobin - my hands are tied may be my favourite steddie fic to date. there's a Lot of steddie handcuff sex stuff on ao3 and whilst i DO love it unashamedly, this fic is just. so good and so realistic because YEAH duh steve would probably associate bondage with his trauma and have a panic attack why is nobody else thinking of this. i really really Really love this fic (JUST TO CLARIFY THIS IS RATED TEEN!! no sex dw)

you are going to die in your best friend's arms. (but he won't let you leave like that) by oaseas is so so SO SO good. it follows dustin as he becomes unstuck in time on the day that eddie died and tries over and over to save him and break the loop. it has some absolutely wonderful bonding moments between dustin and both steve & eddie, and whilst the steddie is not the Primary focus we do see dustin slowly realise just how deeply the two care about each other as he goes through each loop. i absolutely adored this fic, and genuinely felt emotional at times. highly highly recommend

last but not least, a sign of the morning by @toedenandbackagain . this is a LONG fic (86.8k!!! love), and just such a good slow burn friends to lovers. i love when fics include steddie having history pre vecna, but often find it cheesy or unrealistic. this, however, i felt was completely believable and very well written. i was reading this as each update dropped and let me tell you the way my heart sunk at the end of chapter 11?? i was going absolutely insane i was so upset and so affected, and really i think that's telling of how well written this fic is. cannot recommend it enough

i could probably keep going, but i think 11 recs is good for now lmao. please please check all these out and support the authors!! steddie writers on ao3 are the backbone to society atm they're doing some incredible work

#i wrote all this already but tumblr decided to crash so ;-;#thank you for asking !! i've been waiting to give my recs bc i fucking love the ao3 steddie tag #st #stranger things #st4 #steddie #steveddie #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #fic recs

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late-to-the-party-81 · 6 months

Text

He who Lovescraft loves loudest

AN: Here is my contribution to Stucky Halloween. I don’t really do true scary things, so I went a bit of a different route.

Big thanks go to @greekgeek24 for organising the event and making not only the cover for this fic, and for all the fics that are being entered, but also for the custom bonus image she made for me to share with you guys - you'll find it at the end.

Another big thanks goes to @zenaidamacrouras1 for beta-ing and giggling along to this silly story.

This story also fills Square O2 of my @stuckybingo card - Eldritch Horror as well as the October challenge prompt - Haunted House, and Square B3 on my @steverogersbingo card - Himbo Steve.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary: There’s some scary goings-on around campus. Several students have ended up in hospital, traumatised by something they’ve seen. Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat and Alpine decide to investigate. Will they discover what’s going on and more importantly, will Bucky get lucky with Steve?

Relationships: Cap Quartet friendship, Steve x Bucky, FWB Nat x Sam.

Word Count: 6k

CW: College AU (all are late teens/early 20’s), kissing, groping, suggestive language, Bucky is constantly horny, Steve is a bit of a himbo, Nat has Sam right where she wants him, Scooby-doo inspired, crack treated seriously, cartoon style slapstick, Alpine is obviously the heroine, recreational drug usage (it goes without saying that in real life you should not have your cat inside your hotbox....)

It was quiet and peaceful in the library until Sam and Nat burst in. Steve had said he wanted to study, but Bucky had managed to convince him, as easily as usual, that making out would also be a good use of their time.

Bucky was straddling his boyfriend's sinfully muscular thighs, arms wrapped around his neck, enjoying the feel of Steve’s lips against his own. Enjoying the way Steve’s tongue was snaking its way into his mouth. Enjoying the way both of their partially chubbed up cocks were pressed against each other through their layers of clothes.

It was in the back of his mind that it would probably be relatively easy to convince Steve to abandon the library altogether for the soft bench seats in the back of his van and a lot less clothing. However, that’s when the other two appeared.

Nat, making a statement with her skin tight purple jeans and matching top, threw her bag down onto the table and slumped into the nearest uncomfortable wooden chair, all the while making gagging sounds. Bucky pulled away from Steve with a sigh, sliding back onto his own chair. Steve chased his lips for a few seconds before realising why Bucky was no longer kissing the shit outta him. He blushed and immediately turned back to his books, pointlessly trying to make it look as though that was what he’d been doing all along.

“I don’t even know why you two even bother coming to the library to study,” Sam teased, smoothing out his orange turtleneck. “One of these days Mrs. Parker is gonna catch you and throw you out. That’s if she doesn’t throw you out for smuggling your cat in.”

Bucky spun his chair around, planted his feet in Nat’s lap and tilted his head back to seeSam pointing at Bucky’s backpack. As if on queue, a small, white, furry head popped out of the open zipper.

“Mrow.” Bucky reached out his hand to scritch the top of her head and she started to purr.

“Nah. Mrs P loves Alpine. Who do you think gave my princess a taste for fresh cooked chicken? And she loves me too, especially after I helped her nephew study for his mechanics exam. Doc Octavious gave Peter an A. ”

“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Sam grumbled. “You never seem to study, but still manage to ace all your classes. Meanwhile the rest of us gotta work double time. Especially Goldilocks over there.” Sam jerked his thumb and Bucky twisted in his seat. Steve had gone back to his books, but he still had a cute flush covering his neck and cheeks and his hair was adorably mussed. Bucky smiled indulgently, taking in the sight of his boyfriend in his tight navy slacks and white cotton shirt, before turning back to Sam.

“It’s not my fault I’ve got more natural talent than any of you goobers.” Nat glared at him and shoved his booted feet from her knees. “What are you two here for anyway? I thought you were going to have your own ‘study session’.” He raised his hands in air quotes and Nat’s glare got more intense. Alpine ducked her head back into the bag.

“We’re here,” she ground out, “because there’s been another attack.” Bucky looked at Nat askance and her announcement even got Steve’s attention as his head snapped up too.

“Yikes! Who was it, and when?” Steve’s shyness at being caught making out melted away, replaced with his no-nonsense ‘mother-hen’ tone. Bucky decided he loved Steve all the more for it.

Sam moved around the table and sat down on Steve’s other side. “It was Clint and Laura. They were found late last night, wandering around near the campus coffee shop.” He pulled a fold out map from his jeans pocket and spread it across the table. Steve picked up one of his pencils and, tongue poking out between his lips, drew an X on it. It was the fourth such mark on the paper.

Bucky scooched his chair closer, pushed his shaggy, shoulder-length hair out of his face, and peered over Steve’s shoulder. Nat got up from her seat and stood behind all of them, resting her hand on Bucky’s back.

“They were crying and talking nonsense when Campus security found them. They’re up at the hospital. I was gonna go up there in a bit and see if I could get anything out of them.” Her tone was laced with anger and Bucky turned his head to look at the clenched fingers of her free hand. Outside of him, Sam and Steve, Clint was one of Nat’s closest friends and she also adored his long term girlfriend Laura, having announced early on that the pair were definitely ‘endgame’.

“I can’t believe that Dean Fury isn’t doing anything about this. This is the fifth attack in just over two weeks and he’s acting like it’s nothing but Spooky Season pranks that have gotten out of hand.”

Bucky wouldn’t put it past Nat to storm into Fury’s office and refuse to leave until he took it seriously. She might not be the tallest, but she was definitely scary when she wanted to be.

“I think I see a pattern,” Sam said, cautiously. His finger tapped down on the map. “Here are the first two attacks, then the third, fourth and finally, the one last night. They’re all within half a block of the old Borson house.”

Steve’s brows drew together. “But no-one has lived there for years. As I understand it, the realtors only just got hold of his daughter to get her to agree to sell.”

“It gives me the heeby-jeebies,” said Bucky. “But maybe we should check it out this evening?”

“Got any twos?” asked Sam.

“Go fish,” Nat responded before she held out her hand for the joint Bucky was passing her. Sam grumbled and drew a card from the deck.

It was smokey and dark in the back of Bucky’s van, but that wasn’t unusual. Nor was the fact that, once again, Bucky was sitting on Steve’s lap. Now he’d passed the joint on, he could return to kissing Steve.

Steve’s lips opened under his, so Bucky let go of his mouth full of smoke, shotgunning it to his boyfriend. Steve moaned back, his hands tightening on Bucky’s waist and rocking them together.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Buck. Must be the luckiest guy in school.”

“If we were alone you could be even luckier,” Bucky mumbled into the soft skin of Steve’s neck.

“But you’re not,” drawled Nat, “so clothes stay on and flies stay zipped. That means you, Barnes. We all know who the bad influence is around here.”

“Anyway,” added Sam, “aren’t you two supposed to be keeping a lookout? Can’t do that while your lips are attached together.”

Bucky turned his head and stuck his tongue out at Sam. “You’re such a square.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and took a long pull on the joint. “I think you need to reframe your definition, man. I’m sitting in the back of a beat up van, smoking a joint, keeping an eye out for an unknown monster terrorising our campus and getting beaten at ‘Go Fish!’ of all things. Also, I’m me. As far from square as they come.”

“Don’t get cocky, Wilson.” As she spoke, Nat stretched out her foot, placing it right into Sam’s crotch. Sam squeaked. Nat smiled.

“I still don’t quite understand what we’re even looking out for,” said Steve. “What did Laura say again?”

“Not a lot,” Nat replied as she stared down at her hand of cards, still rocking her foot back and forth. “She’s obviously traumatised from whatever it was that happened. Her parents said she wasn’t really talking at all, but when I got there she just grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me really close. Then she just started muttering under her breath. The words ‘tentacles’ and ‘monster’. Then she let me go and went back to staring into space.” The others looked at her in horror, but Nat didn’t seem to notice. “Got any eights?”

Sam threw his cards down across the small table and the moment was broken. The slips of card slid across the melamine surface and Alpine, who had been lightly dozing upon it, opened her eyes and batted a few to the floor.

“Damn it, Romanoff. How the fuck do you do that?” Sam bent down with a huff to retrieve his cards, the joint wedged in the corner of his mouth.

“Observation, my dear Wilson. I can read you like a book.” As Sam sat back up, Nat plucked the joint from his lips and passed it back towards Steve and Bucky. She slipped around the table and slid onto the bench seat Sam was occupying, squishing him against the wall of the van. He grinned at her.

“And is that book the Karma Sutra?” He’d dropped his voice as low as it could go, pulling out all the stops.

“Depends how flexible you are, Sammy-boy.” Nat flicked the end of his nose and they both dissolved into giggles

Bucky, started to chuckle at their antics, when suddenly an ear-piercing scream from outside split the air.

“Jinkies!” Steve exclaimed and leapt to his feet, banging his head on the roof of the van and tumbling Bucky to the floor in the process. Both exclaimed in pain.

“Damn it, Stevie!”

“Sorry, Buck.” Steve rubbed at his head with one hand and with the other reached out to haul Bucky up from the floor. One strong jerk and Bucky was back on his feet. Bucky placed the joint in the ashtray and then rubbed at the ache in his ass. Sam and Nat were also on their feet and opening the sliding side door. Cool autumn air swirled into the space, flushing out the pungent fog they had all been cultivating.

Nat jumped down onto the asphalt, head tilted to the side as she waited to see whether any more noises would be forthcoming. She didn’t have to wait for long. A second scream met their ears and before any of the others could say anything she was off, sprinting towards whatever was happening. Sam and Steve looked at each other for a moment and then Sam sped away, hot on Nat’s heels.

“Nat! Wait!”

Bucky jumped down after him, but before he could follow suit he felt Steve’s large hands clamp down on his upper arms.

“Stay here, Bucky.”

“But Steve!” Bucky twisted in Steve’s hold to face him, confusion on his face.

“No, Bucky. I need to know you’re safe. Please. Stay here. You and Alpine. And we might need you to drive the van.” He dropped a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and then he was also running off into the streetlamp lit night.

Bucky watched him, mouth agape in stunned silence, before he stepped back and sat down on the edge of the open doorway.

“What the hell was that? Doesn’t he trust us, Al?” Bucky turned his head to look back into the van. Alpine was no longer sitting on the small table. “Al?” He stood up and then climbed into the van. “Alpine? Where are you, princess?” Bucky opened his backpack zipper wider, wondering whether his stalwart feline had decided to curl up in there for a snooze. No such luck.

Bucky planted his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. His girl was always trying to roam somewhere. He re-exited the van and strode over to bushes on the opposite side of the road.

“Alpine… Princess… Where are you sweetheart?” He ducked down but couldn’t see her. “Here, Alpine! Pss-pss-pss… I’ve got some chicken for you…” Bucky walked a little further down the sidewalk. She had to be around here somewhere. Just then, he caught movement in his peripheral vision; a dart of white disappearing between two fence planks.

“Ah-ha!” Bucky jogged off in pursuit. “You won’t get away from me.” He clambered over the short fence and followed the small blur of white into the shrubs. Branches snagged at his hair and his olive green t-shirt and he wished he’d worn a jacket now - it was a lot colder out here than he’d first thought and it would have protected his arms from getting scraped. The greenery thickened, forcing Bucky down onto his hands and knees. He shuffled forward and stuck his head and shoulders into a gap under one of the bushes. Alpine was sitting under it, swishing her tail angrily.

“There you are, Princess. Come on. Out you come. We need to get back to the van.” Carefully he reached out, but Alpine let out an uncharacteristic growl as he did. “Hey! What’s gotten into you?” She growled again, the hair on her back standing up on end. As Bucky looked at her in the gloom, he realised something. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at something behind him.

Bucky felt a chill go through him, and realised that the ground around him was taking on a green glow. He looked at Alpine, her fur also taking on the eerie hue.

“I don’t suppose that’s Sam, trying to scare the jeepers out of me?”

Alpine continued to growl.

“Didn’t think so…”

Bucky took a deep breath and then backed up quickly, intending to surprise whoever it was behind him with his speed. However, the weed from earlier had made him a little light-headed and as he stood up and spun around, the world spun with him. Something strange - green and non-human looking - started to coalesce in front of his eyes. It opened its mouth and let out an inhuman noise as something else wrapped around his arms. Bucky stepped back in alarm and caught his heel on a tree root. As he lost his balance the creature lost its grip on his arms, but that meant there was nothing to stop Bucky as he pitched backwards. Pain flared from the back of his skull as it connected with the ground. The green, monstrous figure loomed over him, getting closer, but the world continued to spin, before it all went black.

Bucky was shaking.

No. He was being shaken.

“Bucky. Baby. Please. Wake up. I need you to wake up.”

Bucky groaned. His head hurt so much and Steve’s voice was so loud.

“For god’s sake, Steve. Let him breathe.” That was Nat. Bucky groaned again and tried to open his eyes.

“M’okay, Steve,” he croaked out. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sat up, clinging onto Steve and finally managed to open his eyes. He was in the back of his van. Hazy memories flooded back in.

“Alpine! Where is she?” Bucky whipped his head around looking for his beloved pet, but he just went dizzy again and had to cling to Steve harder.

“She’s here, man.” Sam knelt down beside him, a struggling bundle of white fluff in his arms. He opened them and Alpine jumped down onto Bucky’s lap, rubbing her head against his middle and purring. “We came back to the van after finding out that the screaming was Hope Van Dyne - Scott had jumped out on her to give her a scare. It apparently worked too well, although Scott is now sporting a black eye. But when we got back you weren’t here and the door was open. Steve was starting to have a nervous breakdown when Al came running out from the trees, meowing her head off.”

Bucky felt Steve slide to sit down behind him and pull Bucky’s slimmer frame against his broad chest. Bucky allowed himself to be pulled into the hug and Sam continued.

“As soon as Steve got close to her she turned tail and ran off again, but stopped every few yards and looked behind her. She was seeing if we were following. What on earth were you doing in the yard of the Borson house?”

Bucky inhaled deeply, letting the smell of Steve’s cheap, but familiar, cologne sooth him. “It was Alpine. She ran in there first and I followed. I didn’t realise it was the Borson yard. I was concentrating too much on getting my princess back.”

Nat sat down cross-legged next to him, eyes roving over his face as if she were a nurse checking for signs of concussion. Knowing Nat, that’s probably what she was actually doing. “We found you unconscious and Steve carried you back here. What happened?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the details. “There was some kind weird person - creature - and it grabbed me, and made this horrible squealing sound. It was green. But I slipped and fell. Banged my head. I didn’t even see it that clearly.”

Sam let out a whistle. “Jeepers! I know you were baked, but what in the HP Lovecraft did you see?”

“I really don’t know, but I want to go home.”

Bucky was still nursing a headache the next day, which sucked for two reasons. Firstly, it was Halloween, and he, Steve, Nat and Sam were supposed to be going to a party tonight and currently he wasn’t feeling it. Secondly, it was making it harder than normal to pay attention in Professor Zemo’s History of Conflict in Europe class. He just wanted to go to sleep, preferably with his head resting on Steve’s stomach as his blonde boyfriend combed his fingers through his hair.

“Are you with us, Mr Barnes?” Sam jabbed him in the ribs and Bucky lifted his head to find that the Professor's accented voice was aimed solely at him. He realised he must have been staring off into space.

“Sorry, Professor. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Bucky mumbled his apology into his chest. Professor Zemo sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mr Barnes, please don’t make your nocturnal habits anyone else’s problem except your own. You can waste your own time if you want, but you will not waste mine. If you can’t give my class the proper attention then please avail yourself of the door.”

Bucky squirmed in his seat from embarrassment, aware of the heat in his cheeks that was probably turning his face bright pink. “I… umm…”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Prof. It wasn’t his fault. He got attacked by the monster last night.” Sam’s voice cut across the awkward tension in the air and Bucky didn’t know whether to hug him or hit him. However, his announcement had the effect of distracting everyone in the lecture hall. Or rather now focusing them on Bucky for something other than being chewed out by Professor Zemo.

“You saw it?” Maria turned around in her seat in front of Bucky, eyes wide with intrigue. “What was it like?”

“And why aren’t you in the hospital like the others?” Carol, in the row behind leant forward.

“Well… I…” Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot. Fortunately he was saved from answering by the Professor trying to get his classroom back in order.

“Settle down, everyone. There is no monster. It’s all just pranks by your immature peers, I’m sure. The only real damage is going to be to the property prices. Who’s going to want to live near such a rambunctious group? I sincerely hope that whoever is behind it stops soon. It’s bringing down the reputation of our centre of learning. But anyway, enough of this distraction. Are you staying or going, Mr Barnes?”

Still awash with embarrassment, Bucky mumbled “Staying, Sir,” under his breath, but it seemed to placate the Professor.

“Alright then. Where were we? Ah, yes… the Peninsular War…”

“Are you sure I look alright, Buck?” Steve’s voice was laced with trepidation, but Bucky was having difficulty concentrating. He knew that Steve’s costume was going to be a vampire one - he was a werewolf to go with him - but Bucky hadn’t quite realised how revealing Steve’s outfit was going to be…

The main part of it was a red singlet which made Steve look as though he was about to start wrestling. Bucky thought that he might enjoy wrestling with Steve. Under the singlet was a shirt. Sort of. It was sheer. It had a built in cravat at the net and had multiple folds of fabric around the wrists. However, it stopped just above Steve’s glorious tits. To finish it off, there was a short black cape with a red ‘pop-up’ collar. On his feet Steve wore his shiny black dress shoes, his black socks pulled part way up his calves. It was definitely ‘a look’.

Not that Bucky’s outfit was much more dignified - a furry hooded cape with ears that just about covered his nipples, some kind of cross between grey sweatpants and yoga pants with a fuzzy tail, and a pair of furry gloves with claws. He’d just put his battered combat boots on to walk around. And right now he was walking closer to Steve.

He pressed his chest up against his boyfriend’s, wrapping his arms around Steve’s slim waist. He smiled to himself as he saw Steve’s eyes flutter shut as the fur of Bucky’s cape rubbed over his exposed nipples.

“You look so good, Steve, it makes me want to howl. Ow-ow-woo!” Bucky threw his head back and leaned into the bit.

“Buck….” Steve hissed between his teeth, his neck turning a very un-vampire like shade of pink.

“What? The only other person here is your mom and she knows how I feel about you. She’s rolled her eyes at me enough. But I promise to behave myself while we’re out. Or at least I promise to try. And you can’t blame me, baby. You’re so god-damn sexy.”

Steve seemed to have got over Bucky’s over the top reaction and looped his own arms around Bucky’s neck. “Right back at you, Buck. I can’t promise not to bite your neck.” Bucky snorted at Steve’s silly vampire accent but leaned in for a kiss. It started innocently enough, but as was normal for the two of them, hormones raging, it wasn’t long until Bucky was lying on his back on Steve’s bed, being pinned down in a way he couldn’t complain about. However, before things could move from PG-13 to Rated R, they became aware that there was a knocking on the front door downstairs.

As they listened to the dulcet tones of Sarah Rogers letting the visitors in, the two reluctantly drew apart and willed their erections to go down. There was one thing when your boyfriend’s mom knew what you were getting up to, but for her to see the evidence of it was another thing altogether.

Costumes sufficiently smoothed out, the two descended the stairs to find Sarah chatting to Sam and Nat in the hallway. The three looked up. Sarah Rogers let a small smile play over her lips as she took in the costumes of her son and his best-friend-turned-boyfriend. Nat and Sam grinned.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Slutty monsters of the night?” Sam drawled.

“Can it, Mr ‘Nat and I aren’t wearing a couples costume’. You’re Batman and Catwoman for fuck’s sake.”

Nat rolled her eyes behind her mask. “Yeah, and Batman and Catwoman aren’t a couple.”

“They are friends with benefits though,” smirked Steve. “So I suppose it tracks. I don’t know why you two don’t make it official.”

“Why spoil a good thing, Rogers? Natty and I both know where we stand, don’t we, kitten?” Sam turned his head and flashed Nat his signature gap-toothed smile. Nat extended a gloved hand toward him, fingers curled like claws.

“Me-ow! Now, let’s get going, boys! Halloween parties wait for no creatures.”

The four of them all hugged Sarah Rogers goodbye, and Bucky carefully picked up his backpack from her sofa, a sleeping Alpine still inside. Sarah had said that he could leave the cat with her, but Bucky had decided to bring his faithful feline with him and let her chill out in the van while the party was in full swing at Scott’s house.

He pulled himself up into the driver's seat, placing his backpack down next to him and tucking his tail to the side. Steve slid in on the other side and reached across to squeeze his thigh. Sam opened the side door and helped Nat hop up, even though she was capable of getting in on her own. When the door slammed shut again, Bucky turned the ignition and they were off.

Steve fiddled with the radio, turning on a local station playing a medley of Halloween hits. Thriller was currently playing. Bucky hummed along while he drove, drumming on the steering wheel while Sam sang along, slightly off pitch, in the back.

It was one of those ‘blink and you’d miss it’ moments. One moment they were driving along a fairly empty street, towards campus, the next the headlamps lit up a strange green form in front of them. Bucky slammed on the brakes. Steve reacted quickly, grabbing Bucky’s backpack and stopping it, and Alpine, sliding off onto the floor. In the back, Sam and Nat let out cries of displeasure as they were shaken about.

“What the hell, Barnes!”

Bucky twisted in his seat to meet Sam’s outraged gaze.

“Did you see that? Did you see it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He put the car back in drive and pulled over to the side of the road and leapt out. He was looking around frantically as the others climbed out of the van. Steve reached into the backpack and placed Alpine on the ground and she wound around Bucky’s legs, sensing his discomfort. Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I saw something green, Buck. But I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Bucky spun to face him. “It was him, Steve. The monster.”

Sam and Nat came to stand next to them.

“Are you sure, Bucky?” There was a gentle questioning note in Nat’s voice.

“Absolutely, Nat. I’m certain.”

“Well,” said Sam, rolling his shoulders and puffing out his bat symbol covered chest, “He can’t have gone far.”

Down on the ground Alpine started to paw at Bucky’s leg. “Mwerp.”

They all looked down at her. She cocked her head, turned around and trotted off.

“She’s doing it again,” said Nat. “She wants us to follow her.”

The four of them scrambled, Bucky only just remembering to lock the van, and they all jogged off after Alpine. She ducked down and squeezed under a gap in a fence and her faithful humans skidded to a stop.

“It’s the old Borson house again,” stated Steve. “Something very fishy is going on. Let’s go.” He started to climb over the fence, but stopped part way when he realised the others were looking at him. “What?”

“Seriously, man?” Sam raised an eyebrow. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Sam shook his head in resignation. “Okay. Let’s go.” He followed Steve over the fence and held his hand out to Nat. She gave him a look and practically vaulted over, landing crouched, one hand on the floor between her bent knees. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Such a poser.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t do it,” Nat retorted.

Bucky snorted, but clambered over the wooden panel in a more sedate manner. He didn’t trust himself not to fall flat on his face. Nat smirked at him.

With them now all standing in the yard, the very place that Bucky had been the night before, Alpine trotted back over, chirped at them and swished her tail.

“Okay,” said Steve, back in full-blown ‘large and in charge’ mode, which made Bucky’s heart pound loudly in his chest. “Let’s split up. Sam, Nat. You check the yard. Me, Buck and Alpine will go inside. Whoever finishes first joins up with the others. Let’s put an end to whatever this is.” They all nodded their agreement and Sam and Nat snuck off into the trees, black costumes helping them blend right into the shadows.

Bucky turned to Steve and took his hand with a smile. “Do you think you’ll need an invitation to step over the threshold?”

“Ha ha, Buck. Come on.”

The front steps creaked ominously as they walked up them. Bucky clung to Steve’s back, now starting to feel a little creeped out.The only thing stopping him from going into full blown panic was wondering how Steve could be so calm and collected while his nipples were exposed and currently pointy enough to cut glass. “What do you think we’ll find in there, Steve?” Bucky asked. “A monster?”

“Pphht. It can’t be that scary.” Steve pushed open the front door, and they walked into the gloomy interior.

Something brushed up against Bucky’s leg and he let out a shriek that he quickly muffled with his hands. Looking down he saw Alpine’s reflective eyes looking back at him. Letting out a sigh of relief, Bucky bent down and picked her up. She wiggled out of his arms and settled on his fur-cape covered shoulder.

“You wanna be close too, princess? I don’t blame you.”

He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, sweeping it back and forth across the floor and walls. The house was still furnished, with thick layers of dust covering every flat surface. When old man Borson had died neither his daughter or two sons had really wanted anything to do with him or his things. It was sad, really.

Suddenly a noise ripped through the air, something akin to a hiss crossed with a scream. The two young men came to a halt.

“What on earth?” Bucky felt Steve’s voice rumble in his chest as he buried his head into Steve’s back.

“I don’t like this, Steve.” He remembered the fear and disorientation that he’d felt last night and tried to repress a full body shudder.

The noise sounded again and they turned their heads towards the stairwell. The sound was coming from above them. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, a green glow could clearly be seen. Bucky gulped.

“We’re gonna go up there, aren’t we?”

“We gotta, Buck. We gotta do this for Clint and Laura, and the others who were hurt before them.”

Bucky nodded against Steve’s back. He could do this.

Slowly they walked towards the stairs, making their way up, one step at a time. The unnatural glowing got more intense and while there were no more screams, the ominous hissing got louder and louder. They crept, one foot after the other, closer and closer towards the partially open door at the end of the corridor, Bucky’s fingers curled around Steve’s red, spandex singlet. Steve stopped, one hand raised a hair’s-breadth from the old, scarred wood and looked at Bucky. His eyes looked strange under the eerie glow, but he looked so sure, so brave that Bucky knew he’d follow Steve anywhere, even if he did currently look like a cross between Bela Lugosi and Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart. Bucky gave him a small nod, and Steve pushed the door.

The creature stood there, illuminated by its sickly green glow. Its face had two dark eyes, but where its mouth was, it seemed as though it had half-swallowed some kind of squid. Tentacles curled down around its chin, glistening with slime. It had two long arms, ending with three fingers and claws, which it raised menacingly at the two young men.

Bucky and Steve lept in the air as it screamed, that ear-piercing sound combined with a hiss. They screamed in return, filled with terror and Alpine leapt down from Bucky’s shoulder, hair on end, hissing and spitting. They all turned tail and ran. Alpine was in front, her four legs carrying her faster and far more elegantly than either Steve or Bucky. Next was Steve, barrelling forward, clasping Bucky’s smaller hand in his, practically dragging him along behind. Bucky stumbled, bringing up the rear. He kept turning his head, shrieking incoherently as he realised the monster was right behind them.

They thundered down the stairs, across the entrance hallway and out of the front door, Steve almost ripping it from the hinges as he pulled it open.

“Nat! Sam!” Steve shouted out for their friends as he dragged Bucky across the lawn.

“Here!” They heard Nat shout and turned to see her standing by the trees at the bottom of the yard - the place where they’d found Bucky yesterday. She waved them towards her. “This way!”

They turned toward her and carried on running. “He’s still coming,” Bucky wailed. What he wouldn’t give to be an actual werewolf right now. He could rip out its throat or something. They stumbled into the shrubbery, Nat having melted back into the darkness. Why did she want them to go this way? Surely it would have just been better to escape by running out the front gate and heading back to the van?

They ran between two trees, and as they did so, they heard Sam shout out.

“Now!”

Instinctually, Bucky and Steve came to a halt and turned around. The monster was bearing down on them, getting closer, when suddenly it tripped on something and crashed to the ground. Immediately, Nat launched herself from the shadows and landed on the creature’s back. She jerked his arms up and cuffed them together. At the same time Alpine leapt down from a tree, landing on the creature's head. She dug her claws into its skull and it let out an all too human type of noise.

“What the heck?” Bucky was dumbfounded. What just happened? Where had Nat found handcuffs? Why wasn’t she scared? She stood up, brushing loose dirt from her pleather outfit and sauntered over to Bucky.

“We used a tripwire from Sam’s utility belt. The handcuffs are also part of Sam’s costume and I wasn’t scared because of what he and I found in the shed before you two wusses came shooting out of the house.” She patted Bucky’s cheek and he wondered if she’d read his mind or whether he’d actually spoken out loud.

Steve, choosing to ignore Nat’s teasing comment, looked down at the struggling creature in the dirt. “What did you find?”

Sam placed a booted foot in the small of the creature’s back, pinning it to the floor and trained his phone flashlight on it. “We found costume making supplies. And glow sticks. Lots and lots of green glow sticks.”

“Plus instructions on how to make a small speaker. Cos-play stuff really,” Nat chimed in, adding her flashlight to the mix.

“But that means…” Bucky’s jaw dropped and he strode over to their struggling captive, dropping into a crouch. “This isn’t a monster at all. It’s someone dressed up and trying to scare everyone. Just like the Dean and Professor Zemo said. But who?”

Sam helped him to manhandle the creature into a sitting position, and now he was up close, seeing it lit up and having his hands on it, Bucky could clearly see the rubber and foam, the stitch marks and the little channels that had been made in the outside to house the multitude of glowsticks. Alpine came and sat down next to him, licking at a paw nonchalantly.

“Right - let’s see who you are.” Bucky grabbed hold of the monster’s head, soft and squishy rubber under his hand, and pulled to reveal…

“Professor Zemo!” The four of them exclaimed in shock.

The professor’s dark hair was plastered over his forehead, and in the torchlight his brown eyes gleamed with frustration.

“Yes, it’s me.” His lip turned up in a snarl and if he weren’t handcuffed, Bucky would have been reluctant to be this close to him.

“But why? What on earth do you get from scaring college students?”

“While I did enjoy a little of the karma from scaring some of your peers witless, it was more that I needed the house prices to come down. I wanted to buy the Borson house, but do you know how little a college professor makes? It was starting to work, too. The price had already been slashed once. I’d have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you pesky kids.”

They all looked at him, dumbfounded, until Steve spoke up.

“Respectfully, Sir, that is really fucked up. Buck, sweetheart, can you call the police?”

“You kiss your momma with that mouth, Stevie?” Bucky sniggered, taken aback by Steve’s uncharacteristic swearing.

“No, but I’ll kiss my boyfriend with it.”

And he did. Just a vampire kissing his werewolf boyfriend in a dark, haunted stand of trees.

Sam made gagging sounds.

Nat called the cops.

Alpine purred.

The end.

Bonus: - They finally get to the party and have a fabulous time.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @km-ffluv

#stuckyhalloween2023 #stucky fanfic #stucky fanart #steve rogers x bucky barnes #crack fic #college au #cap quartet #steve x bucky #alpine the cat

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 1 year

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF your last few fills are brain scrambling thank you for your service

Tbh I have been thinking about the fat himbo Bucky concept w the WG denial and then saw the recent curse one with clothes ripping and my brain said‼️

So: Any thoughts on himbo Buck just pouring out of his clothes and being like “Steve why did you shrink all my stuff in the wash🥺” since you wrote he was a former athlete just imagine some old teeny workout shorts w that stretch marked belly & lovehandles hanging out🥵plus hims poor ass about to rip the shorts in half. Meanwhile Steve probably has a coronary like “alsnsnsbd babe sorry bABE we’ll have to buy new ones” while totally stretching the daily peep show out until everything is impossible to fit Bucky’s fat ass steadily growing…hoo boy

If you want to write anything yeehaw but whatever you wanna do, if not I hope my horny ramblings were entertaining

Oblivious heavy himbo Bucky + Bucky's rapid weight gain curse

Thanks! ❤️

I am always happy to make people’s brains malfunction 😂

Also YES! That’s such a good combination 🤌🤌

Hell yes, himbo Bucky cursed to burst out of all of his clothes 🥵

I have to say though, as much as I love fast, super intense rapid weight gain… I think for himbo Bucky it would be really hot if he somehow gets cursed with a slower weight gain curse. Like, it’s still much faster than he would ever be able to put weight on irl, no matter how much he stuffed himself every day, but it’s not the instantaneous gain either. The curse is just slow enough that Steve can see Bucky expand if he keeps looking at Bucky for more than a few seconds. This also means that the curse is slow enough that Bucky doesn’t notice it - keeping on theme with the weight gain denial a little bit. Bucky isn’t paying enough attention and isn’t smart enough to notice there’s anything wrong.

Not right away.

Maybe Steve bought a charm off of someone claiming to be a witch... Maybe Steve had a sorcerer put a mild curse on Bucky that they promised would wear off after a little while... However you would like to imagine the curse came about, Steve knows that Bucky is growing much faster now than he would without some help. But, still, he isn't growing so fast as to give away the game.

So, how long will it take Bucky to notice? Such a pretty, sweet, and stupid boy. Place your bets now!

Stucky belly kink ahead! Be warned! It’s unbeta’d and there’s also some dub-con elements in it because Bucky doesn’t know, at first, that he’s been cursed and gaining weight. Otherwise, it’s the usual belly kink with stuffing, weight gain, tight clothes, etc.

Throughout the day when it kicks in, Bucky asks a bunch of stupid questions, like:

“Why are you looking at me so much, Steve?”

When Steve can’t help but zone out on Bucky. He’s watching Bucky chow down from across the kitchen island. Right now, Bucky’s happily munching on his fifth bowl of cereal. His fifth bowl even after Steve woke him up with the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Steve had a protein shake, perfectly caloric and with the appropriate macronutrients. The traditional, sweet, and savory breakfast foods were all for Bucky.

And Bucky scarfed it all down plus, obviously, then some. Hence the five bowls of cereal.

Steve has been trying to keep his cool while watching Bucky’s double chin get thicker and thicker. He’s been trying not to lunge across the kitchen island to bury his face in between Bucky’s tits. Why does Bucky have to sleep shirtless and have breakfast shirtless? It’s killing Steve! 😫

Bucky’s tits have always been soft and tempting since he began gaining but watching them get plumper and plumper by the second is awful. Steve has to chew on the inside of his cheek to keep from reaching out and sinking his teeth into those tits. Or, Christ, his nipples. As he gains, slowly but surely, his nipples are getting bigger and bigger. Softer and softer looking. Pinker and pinker. Steve is dying to know if they’re any more sensitive now than they were last night before all this started. They have to be. Right now, his nipples look so hard. Steve wants to put his mouth on his lush tits so fucking bad.

Steve shakes his head, trying to be normal and throwing on a cheesy grin, “what? A guy can’t look at his best pal?”

Bucky slurps another spoonful of milk and sugary cereal and grins sweetly. His face is already fatter, oof, and his chubbier cheeks turn the prettiest pink at the compliment. He waves a hand as if to say, stop it! But he keeps eating and he keeps letting Steve stare.

Steve looks for a little while longer until Bucky squirms in place under his appreciative stare. When he squirms his tits jiggle. And Steve can’t take it. He’s sweating. He can’t even imagine what’s happening to that tummy of his under the kitchen counter between the curse and all the food he’s eating.

Steve rasps, “I’m gonna go shower.”

Bucky nods and reaches for the box sitting next to his bowl on the counter, pouring himself another bowl.

Oh, God.

Steve rushes off to the bathroom but he makes the mistake of looking back. And he’s presented with a way-too-hot view of Bucky’s ass and love handles slowly creeping wider and wider. He’s growing out of the kitchen island bar stool right in front of Steve’s eyes. If he sits there for the rest of the day… will the stool eventually break? Will he get too big? Will his ass get two, three, four times wider than that stool?

🥴🥴🥴

Steve is-

Steve is going to shower.

Steve is going to take a very long, very hot shower because… because his muscles hurt from his run earlier this morning. That’s. That’s also why he’s so sweaty. He went on a run before breakfast. Mmm-hmm. That’s it.

“Steve, why are my clothes so tight!?”

By the time Steve is done in the shower and has changed into his comfortable, I’m-not-leaving-the-house-today clothes, Bucky is sitting on the couch, still in his own PJs. Steve trips over nothing in the hallway. Turning the corner to reveal Bucky reveals that he is still eating. He’s got the second box of their cereal out (he must’ve finished the first already 🥵) and is putting handfuls of it right into his mouth. Not caring that it’s dry. Just. Hand-to-mouth. Feeding himself. Like he can’t stop. Almost like he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

“Huh?” Steve says intelligently.

Bucky pulls at his little workout shorts. Not basketball shorts but tiny, little shorts. Like the kind you see women running in these days. Like the kind of shorts that men wore in the 1980s. Hiding nothing.

And when Bucky pulls at his shorts - the ones he wore in college when he actually fit into them - he doesn’t pull at the waistband of the shorts. He can’t. It’s buried under his tummy. Instead, he pulls at the bottom hem of them. The bottom hem has ridden up to the very, very top of his thighs, sitting down the way he is, showing off the way his pale thighs spread on the sofa.

“My sleep shorts don’t fit anymore,” he pouts.

How did Steve not notice before that even his thighs are covered in little stretch marks? Sure, they’re light. But. They’re still there. How could he miss them!?

Steve might faint. He just… just had some alone time in the shower, how does he already need more?

Steve really wants to turn right back around so he isn’t completely overwhelmed by how fucking hot Bucky is but also he wants to go right up to Bucky and he wants to fall to his knees between his legs and he wants to sit there forever. He wants to watch Bucky grow bigger and bigger and bigger. He wants to touch him as he gets softer and softer, heavier and heavier, larger and larger. Steve does neither, instead, he comes up behind Bucky on the couch, pressing himself to the back of the couch for no reason (it’s definitely not to get a little friction and pressure against himself, nope) other than to be able to massage his shoulders. An excuse to touch him, to soothe him, and to say, “sorry, baby, I probably messed up the dryer settings. They must’ve shrunk last time I did laundry.”

Bucky crunches thoughtfully on his cereal.

Steve keeps massaging his shoulders, disbelieving his hands and his eyes, how can someone’s shoulders get fat? Fuck. 😮‍💨

“It’s okay,” Bucky says once he swallows. “Can I get more?”

“Of course.” Steve’s mind catches up to his mouth after he answers, “although… maybe not today.”

“Why not?” Bucky asks, “we’re not doing anything, right? We could go shopping?”

“Eh,” Steve shrugs and can’t help but stroke his fingers down Bucky’s throat as he swallows again. He gets goosebumps. “I just don’t feel like shopping today. Wouldn’t you rather relax all day anyway.” Standing over Bucky the way he is, Steve can see two kinds of progression - he can see the way Bucky’s belly makes slow, steady progress over his thighs, pushing farther and farther out, and he can see the way the amount of cereal in the box gets lower and lower.

“I do like doing nothing.” Bucky says, all sunny.

“I know, baby,” Steve pats his head and he thinks and you deserve to do nothing. Do nothing but get bigger and bigger. But, for now, he walks away. Only throwing over his shoulder, “are you gonna shower, Buck?”

“Eventually.”

“Steeeeve how come I’m so hungry? I’m hungry all the time but why am I so hungry today? Can you hear my stomach growling?”

It’s only an hour after Bucky had an early lunch when he asks that. He’s snacked more before lunch and he’s also showered by now.

(Steve may have mourned the loss of getting to keep an eye on Bucky’s growth while he was showering, singing carelessly and loudly and off-tune as he cleaned up, but that all dissipated when Bucky came back out with a few extra inches. Asking, “did you wash these clothes too, Stevie? They’re tight too. Tighter than my shorts!” And Steve can tell. The clean clothes he’s stuffed himself into are his own lazy day clothes. An old, college t-shirt that’s white with their navy blue college logo stretched over Bucky’s bigger tits. The bottom of the shirt doesn’t even come close to covering his gut. Half of it is just hanging out, showing off his thickening waist. Showing off how his poor shorts, another pair of little ones because, of course. They are being crushed under the weight of his tacked-on belly and chunky love handles as well as being stretched across his fat ass.)

And…

Can you hear my stomach growling, only an hour after I’ve stopped forcing food into it?

Steve totally can hear it growling. Gurgling. All that food shifting around inside him. Accelerating his growth.

Steve might also be able to hear it stretching. All that plush fat struggling to grow around the mass of food packed into one overtaxed stomach. Steve can’t describe the amount of hunger he suddenly feels himself. Is it wrong to want to bite him? He’s just so fat and plump and-

Steve licks his lips. If he didn’t close his mouth he might start drooling. He wouldn’t eat Bucky, obviously, but he does want to devour him. Y’know?

“Yeah,” Steve breathes in and out. Slow. Like Bucky’s never-ending growth. He doesn’t want to faint. “Yeah, you’re alway hungry, Buck. An’, yeah, I can hear your stomach growling. Are you sure you ate enough, baby? You gotta be hungry for a reason.”

Bucky pouts, “I thought I did eat enough!”

“Do you want some more?”

“Oh, please,” Bucky moans. He moans. And. Doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s so effortlessly hot. Steve can’t stand it. He walks to the fridge to pull out more leftovers to reheat but also to stick his head in the cold. While his back is turned, Steve also bites into his fist and lets out a moan of his own. He didn’t anticipate this being so hard on him. Bucky isn’t struggling like Steve is. Bucky is just enjoying himself. Ignorance is bliss. Stupid and so, wonderfully happy. It’s sweet. Steve can’t stand it, it’s so sweet. Like, why does even that turn him on?

God, he’s a pervert. 🥴😵‍💫

“Am I always this big Steve?”

Hdhfhdjs, Steve’s brain provides helpfully. He’s too stunned by the question to add anything right away. He can’t answer! For the last two hours, he’s been trying his best to not tear through the throw pillow he’s had in his lap with his hands fisted in it to keep himself from grabbing Bucky and giving up the game and also leaving it in his lap to hide how much he’s into what has been going on right under Bucky’s nose (more like under his double-chin and past his g-u-t 🥵).

Also for the past two hours he’s been swiveling his head between the TV playing some reality TV show that Bucky enjoys to Bucky himself.

Over the past two, maybe three, hours Bucky has been munching. Steadily getting more and more snacks from the pantry. Filling himself beyond full. Stuffing himself. Steve isn’t sure if he isn’t aware he’s full, not noticing the signals from his body while being so absorbed in his show, or… maybe the curse keeps his stomach growing as well as his fat? Like, he really can’t get full, his stomach getting larger and larger, or maybe all the calories are instantly being digested and used for more fat so, he has to eat to keep up. Steve doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter though.

All the matters is not exploding.

He’s all sweaty again and very turned on and paying way, way more attention to the sounds Bucky is making than anything else. His noisy tummy. His clothes creak - the seams scream under the pressure. His little huffs and puffs and satisfied moans. His “oofs” when he drags himself up, off the sofa. His laughter at himself, nearly unable to hold his balance under the weight of his always bigger body. His hiccups when he eats or drinks faster than his body knows what to do with and the following groans of overfullness along with the sound of his hands caressing his pregnant, over-due looking gut sitting in front of him.

“Steve?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Have I gotten bigger?” He asks, turning towards Steve, bringing one of his thick legs up onto the couch, and, oh, God, running a chubby hand over his enormous belly. “Or am I always like this?” To emphasize this he wiggles, just a little. Just enough to sway his belly back and forth which is better to Steve than any perfect, sinful strip tease could ever be. His big, fat, pale gut wobbling. All that lard hanging out, thick and round, from his t-shirt that might as well be a bra at this point, straining around his full breasts, the seams bringing to pop under his fat arms. His shorts have ridden up every time he sits back down on his fat ass, and have been pushed down by his growing belly until Steve can only see little peaks of them around his fat. They’re beginning to break too.

Does Bucky even know?

Does he know he’s practically naked?

Does he know he’s rapidly gaining weight yet?

Steve’s head is spinning, watching Bucky as he continues to touch himself.

“No,” Steve finally replies, breathless.

Bucky’s eyebrows come together. He obviously doesn’t understand. Sweet, stupid boy.

Which means Steve has to explain what’s going on. Bucky’s face, as he learns what’s been happening to him, is practically orgasmic. He loves it. Then, it’s Steve’s turn to ask a question, “so, you’ve been getting fatter all day, Buck, did you seriously not notice?”

Bucky shakes his head. He grabs an overflowing handful of blubber at the side of his ballooned belly - wide and fat and impossibly heavy, sticking out in front of him. And he leaves his hand there for long enough to feel himself growing.

Expanding.

Larger and Larger.

Bucky bites his lip, just feeling himself for a moment. Not even trying to put on a show for Steve but putting on the best possible one anyway. Especially when he seemingly can’t take it anymore, letting his head fall back with a ragged moan. Shifting his hips and murmuring, “no wonder I’ve felt so good all day, Stevie. I love getting fatter.”

It flickers through Steve’s mind to say, I know, it’s why I did this. I did it for you, sweet boy. But no thoughts are sticking for long in Steve’s head.

Besides, Steve can’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t have to. So, he pounces. Lunging forward and plastering himself around Bucky’s rotund gut. It feels so much better than it looks. It feels pornographic to have Bucky’s fat balloon against Steve’s own body, slowly working to push Steve out of Bucky’s crowded lap.

🥴🥴🥴

I hope you enjoyed!

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