#bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader

[biteofcherry]

Just reread Room with a View and I loved it the second time just as much as the first. Just wanted to tell you ❤️. I've always wondered where/how Bucky and Steve find their assistant? And does she know that she's signing up for from the beginning? If you're feeling inspired, I'd love a drabble. If not, any fragmented thoughts?

Fringe Benefit

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

summary: Steve and Bucky wanted to start looking for an assistant right after their visit to Ari, but unexpected business complications limited their time to organize a search. Luckily, the opportunity presented itself to them on a silver platter… You presented yourself, begging to squeeze in a ten minutes meeting in their busy schedule

warnings: dark Steve Rogers dark Bucky Barnes; dub-con; manipulation; forced orgasm; blowjob; deepthroating; power imbalance; explicit sexual situations; praise kink; breeding kink;

You came to their building - a forefront to businesses that you know are more illegal and dangerous than exclusive properties they deal with - five times, before a stuffy desk clerk written down your name in the calendar.

A small window for a very short meeting, possibly a dismissal, two weeks in the waiting.

You were patient, but in this case time was sensitive. Because money was sensitive.

A part of you wanted to drop it, not clean your younger brother's messes once again. Sense of responsibility made you cave in. As well awareness that if Noah can't pay his debts the sharks would turn your way to settle it, anyway.

You preferred to get ahead of things. Maybe your readiness to cooperate and a solid plan you've made would help you save life.

Barnes and Rogers were businessmen. Lethal mob bosses, but that was a sort of business too. And you knew how to deal with difficult clients as well demanding bosses.

So you poised yourself in calm, controlled demeanor as you sat down on a leather chair in front of a huge desk, holding your head high as two pairs of blue eyes settled on you.

Those eyes were more lively than you expected. Instead of sleazy, older men you thought you'd see, stinking of cigars, with greasy stains on their chins; you faced two men in their prime.

Handsome, to express it chastely. Fucking hot, if you'd describe them to your friends.

In their late thirties, maybe early forties; one with neatly trimmed beard, the other with some scruff. Perfectly tailored suits on lean, muscled bodies. They both had blue eyes; one an icy shade that cut through you, the other the depths of ocean that swallowed you whole.

They were watchful. Assessing your every gesture and tick.

Predators in vigil.

It's been a long while since anyone studied you so intensely. It made you feel uneasy, but also sent a hot wave through your bloodstream.

For a second you dropped your gaze to the folder you held on your lap, your hands gently clasped over it. Somehow you managed not to shiver.

You lifted your head up, meeting their gazes evenly. You weren't dumb enough to throw them an open challenge, but you hoped to look confident.

You wanted to introduce yourself, but Mr Rogers was faster, greeting you in a way that suggested they already knew a lot about you. More than just your first and last name. Probably did a background check on you. For the meeting purposes, you assumed.

After taking an encouraging breath, you began presenting your idea for a solution regarding your brother's debt.

All summed up and divided into regular payments, with extra interest included of course. And a big deposit right away, all your savings ready to give to them.

"You're very thorough." Mr Barnes commented, taking the folder from you when you pushed it forward, but not opening it.

"Indeed, she is." Mr Rogers nodded, rubbing his lip in thought. "A dedicated, hardworking girl, aren't you, doll?"

You frowned at the sweet, condescending nickname. You considered reminding him you had a name, but letting it go was a small price for leaving this meeting victorious.

"It's a good proposition," Rogers continued, "but has a few disadvantages. The main one is that there's a small chance your brother finds a job with decent salary to match yours, so you can pay us in the time you promise."

"Shitty brother at that," joined Barnes, "to burden his sister with this kind of debt. You sure want to take it up on yourself?"

He didn't sound as if he was only mocking Noah. No, there was an undertone of displeasure and annoyance, like he truly couldn't imagine causing a sister any grief or trouble.

"Me not taking it won't change the fact it falls on me anyway if Noah fails to deliver."

You weren't naive to think their wrath would skip Noah's family, if he failed. Or that you could go to the police with it. You were quite sure they had many high-ups on their payroll.

Rogers and Barnes exchanged looks. Something passed between them, though you weren't sure what they debated on silently.

"Since you have the spine and honor to come to us on your own and propose something actually smart," Rogers opened a drawer and pulled out a printed document, "we want to give you a counter-offer."

"Which is?" You narrowed your eyes as he slid papers across the desk towards you.

"As it happens, we have an open spot for a personal assistant. For us." Barnes smiled. It was as charming, as lethal.

"Long hours, including after hours if we wish. But we'd pay you double what you earn now. Also provide paid vacation and sick days, medical care. Bonuses of various kinds." Rogers' smooth voice tempted to trust their offer.

"That- that makes no sense." You shook your head, trying (and failing) to take your eyes away from his.

"You'd be paying me and I would be paying it back to you as compensation for my brother's debt. Your own money returning to you. Where's the gain?"

"Oh, doll," Barnes licked his lips as he leaned forward, "we will reap many benefits from your service."

"Benefits?" You swallowed hard, trying not to react impulsively to the implication behind his words.

Your mind instantly flashed with sinful images; indecent demands and harassment that should outrage you.

But then you reminded yourself that these men probably had stunning girlfriends, or even had a different beauty in their beds every weekend. They could afford the most exclusive escorts, if they wanted to. They wouldn't hire an assistant just to fuck her dumb.

Instead, you thought of all the other ways businessmen and businesswomen benefited from having a personal assistant. You vaguely remembered that from the time you worked as one right after college - not only assisting in the business area, but picking up laundry, buying coffee, buying gifts for girlfriends because they forgot to.

"Yes." Rogers smiled for the first time. "We'll make certain what you do for us is worth every penny of your brother's debt."

They allowed you twenty four hours to think on their offer.

Considering what you would gain, not only in your own payment, but with their proposed salary your brother's debt could be payed much much sooner, lifting the heavy burden from your shoulders.

Money wise, it was a gift like a star from the sky.

You feared participating in the other side of their business, but you told yourself they wouldn't take a meager assistant to a crime scene.

Though maybe you'll have to wash the blood off their shirts. That you could do, you supposed.

So you agreed.

In the first few days your work passed just as you predicted - long hours of trotting between their office and various places they sent you on errands.

But you were a quick learner and memorized their coffee and snack choices after three days; as well the fact Mr Barnes liked to sit in the armchair after a tougher negotiation and listen to music, and Mr Rogers went to the old boxing gym that was rarely frequented by anyone.

You ordered lunch for them if they were in the office. Twice they came back from whatever business they've been dealing with in the field, with pastries for you. Which was thoughtful and sweet, you thought.

Yes, the work was tiring and sometimes hectic (keeping up with their long strides proved to be a little difficult for you), but not as awful or blood-filled as you feared at first.

It was after about two weeks when you entered their office, pen and pad in hand, ready to take more requests for the rest of the day.

"Anything particular for lunch that you wish?" You asked, walking right into the center of the room.

You smiled - not only a false, practiced grimace, but their handsome faces and the crinkles in the corners of their eyes when they smiled in return always made you content.

Focused on Mr Barnes leaning against the desk watching you like a hawk, you didn't notice Mr Rogers closing the door behind you and locking it.

"As a matter of fact, I've been craving something for many days now." Barnes said, curling a finger at you and motioning for you to step closer.

You felt a rush of heat wash over you. His words, spoken in that low, seductive voice, and his beckoning weren't that subtle.

"Um," you bit your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. But you made little steps forward. "I- I can order anything you wish, Mr Barnes."

"No," he chuckled and suddenly grabbed you by the hips, pulling you close. "We will be ordering. Anything we wish."

"That's inappropriate, sir." You laughed nervously and tried to step away, though your resistance wasn't as fierce as it should.

"If you consider that inappropriate," Rogers' voice resounded in your ear as he slid behind you, caging you between the two of them-

"I wonder what you'll think of all the things we're going to do to you."

"S-sir," you trembled as Barnes traced your lips with his finger, as Rogers' tongue flicked your earlobe. "You shouldn't- I shouldn't-"

You shouldn't want it.

A part of you didn't, the scared part that feared awful things being done to you. Those two men killed without blinking, they made people disappear and suffer. They could break you.

The rest of you roused with thrill and anticipation. Your skin pebbling with goosebumps where their hands started roaming.

"You can use our first names, doll. And may I remind you of paragraph seven, point five of our contract." Rogers whispered, rolling the fabric of your pencil skirt up.

"Assistant will also fulfill requests and see to the well being of employers in matters regarding health and body."

"But-" a gasp interrupted your own words when Steve sucked on your earlobe at the same time that Bucky slid a finger past your lips.

"And our bodies really need your assistance right now." Bucky chuckled, slowly pulling his finger from your mouth.

He replaced it with his own lips. Soft, but demanding. A kiss that went deeper and rougher than you ever experienced before.

Then Steve's mouth was on your neck, licking and biting. And they both chuckled when you made a helpless sound as they began pulling your panties down your legs.

Everything was a haze of sensations and chaos of adrenaline buzzing through you. The world slipped from your grasp, as did your control over yourself. Your body was pliant in their hold. You wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried to fight them off, they were much stronger. Bigger. Dangerous.

And for some insane reason it made you wetter.

They pushed you onto your knees. Cold floor harsh under your knees, pressed suit pants and shiny shoes appearing in your vision.

Steve forced your legs to part wider and slipped his hand up your thigh, right over to your slick folds. He had his other hand weaved into your hair, holding a fistful in a strong grip.

Bucky's fingers were in your hair, too. Only slightly gentler in their hold.

They both moved your head back and forth over Bucky's cock.

"For someone who says they shouldn't do it, you enjoy it a lot, doll." Steve laughed cruelly, pushing two fingers into you.

Your whine resonated on Bucky's dick, a pleasant groan falling from his lips at the sensation.

Your hands clawed at Bucky's thighs, nails scratching his skin, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"And you look like you're loving every second of it, too." He patted your cheek.

Your started tearing up - from gagging every time Bucky pushed deeper and deeper into your mouth, and from the growing tension Steve's ministrations provoked.

His fingers inside you curled and his thumb rubbed merciless circles over your clit, pushing you steadily toward the precipice.

"That's it," Steve rasped in your ear. "You're going to cum with a cock down your throat."

Your moan sounded gargled as you choked on Bucky's dick when the head of it bumped the back of your throat. Tears streamed down your cheeks, smudging your make up.

"You'll learn to love it, dollface." Bucky cooed at you, pushing right back in after giving you a second to catch your breath.

"Learn to associate having our cocks in your mouth with ultimate pleasure." Steve mouthed on your shoulder, his fingers never ceasing in their torment.

And he was driving you towards climax expertly.

Your sounds pitched higher, your body shaking as you felt tension coiling in your belly. Steve kept urging you on, murmuring dark, filthy promises of breaking you.

Bucky slowed his movements, but each time he drove his hips into your face, forcing his cock down your throat.

He withdrew partly, keeping his dick on your tongue as he held your head in place, when Steve growled - "She's gonna cum now."

You don't know if it was his command, or maybe you really were right on the edge, but you shattered right after he spoke those words. A loud, pitiful keen, partially muffled by the dick in your mouth; tears falling freely.

Your body seized, but Steve quickly let go of your hair and wrapped a strong arm around you, holding you to him. His fingers were still buried in your soaked cunt, thumb giving your pulsing clit some reprieve.

Your head throbbed with white noise, your lungs burned. Everything slowly settled down, your consciousness falling back into your body.

Before you had a chance to calm down fully, Steve's thumb on your clit started moving again. In wicked eights this time.

"N-no-" your weak objection was cut short by a cock pushing back into your throat.

Bucky gripped the sides of your head harsher, pushing his hips forward. He forced you to swallow him to the root, his balls slapping your chin.

He didn't withdraw fully now, only rocked against your face, keeping himself at the back of your mouth. Each push forced strings of saliva to dribble out of your lips and down your chin, smearing on his sack.

Steve set a different rhythm on your clit now, somehow managing to arouse it all anew.

One of your hands tried to blindly grab his wrist when he thrust a third finger inside you.

"Take it, doll." He ordered, moving his digits ruthlessly despite your attempts to stop him.

"It's only three fingers. My cock will stretch you wider when I take your tight cunt."

You didn't know if Bucky finished first and that's what set you off again, soundlessly screaming as he spilled down your throat; or if Steve pushed you over the edge and your helpless, choking sounds made Bucky burst.

He groaned loudly, rutting his hips against your face as he came. Then withdrew slightly, keeping his still spurting cock on your tongue.

His icy gaze turned warmer as he watched you from above, admiring your ruined state and the pool of white cum sliding down the back of your tongue.

Steve pulled his fingers out of your sopping pussy at the same time that Bucky finally eased out of your mouth completely. The squelching sound of your cunt flushed you with embarrassment.

"Kiss the tip," Bucky's voice was soft, but you knew it was an order nonetheless.

You hesitated only a second, mostly due to tiredness. Steve slapped your puffed pussy in reprimand, causing you to squeak and lean forward instantly, placing a kiss on the head of Bucky's softening cock.

"Good girl." Their praise made your head swim. Or maybe it was the post-orgasmic exhaustion.

"You're perfect." Steve kissed your temple.

He was surprisingly gentle as he helped you up. Your legs slightly wobbled as you straightened and Steve quickly slipped an arm under your knees, picking you up bridal style.

You snuggled to him as he moved around the room. You heard some shuffling, items being moved away.

Then you were being lowered down, cool, solid surface beneath your back. A sound of chair being moved and a telling jangle of buckle belt being undone.

Steve's face appeared above you as you blinked your eyes open. He tapped your cheek a few times, rousing you back to consciousness.

Someone's hands moved up your legs - Bucky, you realized. He spread your thighs open, his hot breath puffing over your swollen, wet folds.

Steve gripped under your chin and forced you to tilt your head back.

"Ask me to fuck your mouth." His fingers wrapped around your throat.

He didn't clench them; his hold merely a reminder of who was in charge, and how easily he could hurt you.

"P-please, Steve, fuck my mouth." Your voice cracked.

You weren't sure there was enough air in your lugs left to survive another cock down your throat.

"More." Steve demanded. "I know you can beg prettily, doll."

Bucky nipped on the sensitive skin of your folds, making you yelp.

Seemed one would always punish you, if you didn't obey the other one.

"Please!" You babbled. "Please, Steve, feed me your cock. Fuck my mouth and fill my belly with your cum."

"Oh, we will." There was a dark undertone to Steve's chuckle as he guided the tip of his dick toward your parted lips. "We'll fill your belly plenty, little doll."

You thought he meant coming down your throat.

He did. But he also meant more.

Soon you'd find out.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Wishbone.

You meet Bucky and Steve while on the run. The three of you quickly learn that nothing is more violent than love.

Based on the poem Wishbone by Richard Siken. Lines taken directly from the poem are in bold. If you're interested, you can read the full poem here.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - 18+ - blood, cursing, guns, sexual content. this is a little dark. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Word Count - 3617

Author's Note - my god I had fun writing this. wishbone is my favourite poem ever, and I reread it a few days ago and had a vision of nomad steve and bucky on the run and just had to turn it into something. if you haven't read the full poem, I'd highly recommend!! this is darker and a bit more jagged than my usual fluff but you know, versatility and all that. I strongly believe that Steve was feral while on the run - he has to crack at some point. I mean you can only be squeaky clean for so long, right? as always, thoughts, questions or requests, send them my way! feedback is massively appreciated always <3

Masterlist. Requests.

You saved my life he says I owe you everything. You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone.

You met them on a bridge in the middle of the night somewhere in Europe.

All three of you running from your sins.

Steve and Bucky had bolted the minute they refused to sign the accords. They were under the impression they’d all go together – Team Cap, side by side.

Wanda and Vision left them first. Natasha next. Lastly, Sam.

Steve and Bucky were the only ones remaining. It started with just the two of them. It would end with just the two of them.

Your ankle cracks and splinters as you barrel forwards over the bridge. Gunshots rain down around you, like some sort of lethal meteor shower. You don’t know how they found you. These remainders of the past won’t leave you alone. They’re shooting at you, four of them, these grown men firing their guns at this runaway girl.

The broken bones finally give way, and you slam into the concrete, head bouncing off the surface. The road is warm under you, and you relax into it, ready to surrender to your fate.

A fate which never comes. A strong, metal arm grabs you by the bicep and pulls you up, your ankle sending strokes of pain lashing through your whole body. You’re screaming, and you’re thrashing, and there’s blood pouring into your boots. Your cries for help are ignored as the man throws you over his shoulder and starts running at an inhuman speed.

He keeps sprinting, heavy shoes hitting the ground with every step, the impact rattling up into your bones. Everything is hazy and nothing makes sense and the lights of the city are blinding you as you’re carried by the stranger. You don’t know if he’s saving you or kidnapping you or both or neither.

A blond man appears, running next to the brunette with the metal arm. You’re thrown from one man’s shoulder to the others, as if you weigh nothing. As if you’re worth nothing. Just a girl caught in the crossfire. A victim. If only they knew.

Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood.

You passed out sometime on the journey, the men’s heavy steps lulling you into unconsciousness.

One minute, you’re being thrown around like a ragdoll, and the next you’re waking up on the floor of a dingy motel. You think you might be in Berlin. Or was it Brussels? It didn’t matter anyway. Doesn’t make a difference.

The carpet is sticky and caked in dirt and patterned like it was made in the 70’s. You wake with a jolt, gasping for air. The blond man is nowhere to be seen. The brunette is sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with careful blue eyes.

“Why am I on the floor?" you ask, venom dripping from each word. “You couldn’t throw me down on the fucking bed?”

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“Your boots are filled with blood,” he spits. “Better on the carpet than the sheets.”

He crosses the room and kneels down in front of you. He cautiously unties your left boot and pulls it off. Then he unties the right one, the broken one, and yanks it off with a careless hand. You grit your teeth and hiss, hand flying out to fist into his shirt.

“Asshole,” you mutter. “That fuckin’ hurts.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he replies. “It’s fractured. Smashed to pieces, actually.”

He grabs your boot and walks over to the tiny sink in the corner of the room. Turning it upside down, he watches as your blood pours out.

“Shit, girl,” he mumbles. “How are you still fightin’?”

You think you hear a New York accent. Brooklyn, maybe. It seems to come out in waves, a slight twang every now and again. His raspy drawl vibrates through your stomach, right into your core. He’s handsome. He’s battered and bruised, clothes ripped, hair mussed. But he’s handsome.

“I’m tougher than I look,” you retort.

He chuckles, and it makes you want to rip your clothes off.

He comes back to your place on the floor and yanks you up by your arms. He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, ignoring your groans and protests. He grabs you by your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop fuckin’ wincing,” he snarls. “I’m trying to help you.”

You figure his help is better than nothing. You go pliant, and let him assess you, only whining when he presses his thumbs into a sore spot.

I’m always saving and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

Steve has always loved playing the hero. It’s the role he falls into naturally. Bucky does too. After everything he’s done – been forced to do – it makes him feel good to save people now.

Maybe that’s why they saved you.

They watched you run from those men, four vigilantes out for blood. Bucky and Steve had gone out to kill them, to get them off their backs. As soon as Bucky had seen you fall, he was moving at the speed of light, barrelling across the bridge to scoop you up and out of the crossfire. Steve just watched, shaking his head. Buck had always been a sucker for a pretty girl.

They don’t question why you were out there, fighting men with your bare hands. They don’t wanna know. Frankly, they don’t care.

“What the fuck?” Steve asks when he swings open the door to the motel room. “She’s still here?”

“Her ankle is all messed up,” Bucky replies. “There’s no way she’s walking. We can’t throw her onto the street. The rest of them will come for her.”

Steve’s rolling his eyes as he walks over to where you’re unconscious on the bed. He grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you up level with him. You startle awake, and stare daggers into his pretty face.

“What did they want with you?” he spits.

You glare at him for a solid minute, but he doesn’t crack. He wants answers.

“Pissed them off, I guess,” you snicker. “They tried to hurt me. Hurt them right back but harder. They didn’t like it.”

Bucky’s watching the two of you interact, his head tilted to the side. He’s not quite sure how this is going to play out. He can’t wait to see.

Steve surveys you, eyes scanning your face methodically. God, he’s tired of playing nice.

He grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to open your mouth. He stares into your soul, as if daring you to defy him, before he spits onto your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. You swallow, holding his gaze – goading him into making another move. He slams his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth, claiming you as his. You suppose you owe him this, at least. He did save your life, after all.

I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.

This is how it always goes. Your new normal.

The three of you run from city to city, country to country, never staying in one place for too long.

They marked their claim on you that day. All of you without a place to call a home – so you found it in each other. And what a fucked up home it was.

Somewhere along the way, you realise you’ve changed. Not just mentally, or emotionally. But physically. You’re taller, stronger, able to run faster. You’ve gone through some sort of metamorphosis and you don’t know what it is but you like it.

You’re in Colombia, in a motel room, naked from the waist up and sat in Bucky’s lap. You can’t tell where you end and he begins. Just the way you like it.

“I’m different,” you tell him, and he nods his head.

“Why do you think we saved you?” he replies.

He straightens up to sink his teeth into your shoulder, right next to the bite mark left by one of them the day before.

“You are different,” Steve tells you as he walks through the door. “It’s our fault. Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, with no real apology in his voice.

Both you and Bucky turn to look at him. Where did that cut on his cheekbone come from? Blood is dripping down his face, and your mouth waters. You want to lick it off.

You crawl to the end of the bed and rise onto your knees, before grabbing Steve, both hands twisted in the front of his shirt. You run your tongue from his jaw to his temple, savouring the taste of copper. Fuck, he tastes so sweet. They both do. You’d drink it if you could.

Steve moans, and the sound makes your legs weak. He fists a hand into the back of your hair and yanks, exposing your throat to him. Then, with no gentleness whatsoever, he scrapes his teeth along the side of your neck, bruising as he goes. You’re purple and red and tender and sore and your big doe eyes are looking at him like you want him to eat you alive. It takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

Bucky doesn’t possess the same amount of self control.

He yanks you back by your wrists, pinning you underneath him. He crawls along your body, and catches your underwear in his teeth, dragging them down and off. He looks hungry. No, he looks feral. It’s animalistic, this connection the three of you have. It’s sharp and bloody and jagged and raw and it makes you want to cut them open from head to toe so you can live inside them forever.

You hate this life and the fact everything is temporary and you hate that you have nothing. Not really. You’re not even one hundred percent sure that these two men wouldn’t leave you if they got offered something better.

But for now, you let them get lost in you. In each other. It’s all you can do to stay sane, in this life spent running and hiding.

Will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to tie your arms down? Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary like it’s just another petty theft?

You’re in another motel room. This time, Argentina.

The three of you are sat on the bed. The wound in your side is gushing, and Steve has his hand practically in your rib cage, trying to quell the opening.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs. “It’s alright, it’ll stop soon. The advanced healing will kick in any minute now.”

Advanced healing.

It’s something you’d known for a while. Something you’d never brought up with them, just in case. But here he was, telling you like it was nothing.

“I’m a super soldier, aren’t I?” you gasp out between raspy breaths. You’re not actually in that much pain, you’re just panicking. No one should be able to lose this much blood and heal like nothing ever happened.

Bucky nods his head from where he’s sat behind you, chest pressed to your back. His strong arms are keeping you still while Steve plays doctor.

“We didn’t mean for it to happen, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear.

“It was probably Brazil that did it,” Steve chimes in.

Brazil.

Bucky had been shot and you’d been stabbed and Steve was bleeding for some reason too.

You’d crawled to Buck, throwing yourself on top of his body. Your wounds were both open and your blood was mixing together and you couldn’t tell whose flesh was whose.

You’d stuck your tongue in his mouth and he drank you down, blood and dirt and sweat be damned. Steve yanked you both up and threw an arm under each of you, practically dragging you to safety. You were painted in crimson and dripping with the evidence of your love.

Yes. It was definitely Brazil that did it.

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” you utter in disbelief.

“Honestly, neither did we,” Steve replies.

“But now you’re one of us,” Bucky murmurs. “The three of us. The same.”

He’s kissing your shoulder and you’re squirming because you can feel your skin healing, patching itself back together slowly.

“Let him kiss you, baby,” Steve urges. “Do I have to tie your arms down?”

“Yes,” you beg. “Please. Do it. Please.”

Bucky twists your arms behind you and locks them into place with his metal hand. You can’t go anywhere. You don’t want to.

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? 

One day, somewhere in Alaska, Steve finds you crying in the bathroom.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, and you don’t recognise what you see. You have scars scattered across your face, your hair is darker than it’s ever been, and it’s shorter from where Bucky took the scissors to it. Who are you? What have you become?

“Now isn’t the time to have an identity crisis, darling,” Steve says when he enters the room in his boxers.

You nod, and smile, and sniffle, taking a deep breath.

Steve walks over to you, placing you effortlessly to sit on the counter. He stands between your legs and cradles your face in his gun calloused hands.

“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he reassures into your mouth.

Leaning forward, he runs his tongue up your cheek, catching the tears as they fall. He grabs your chin with one hand, and tugs your pants off with the other.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cry.”

It feels like love when he sinks his teeth into your neck so hard, he draws blood.

and with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because it’s all I have, because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.

You crack on a random Tuesday afternoon in Bulgaria.

You’ve been shot at one too many times. It’s not something anyone should ever have to endure. The bullets have carved you out and left you hollow. There’s only so much blood you can lose.

The three of you are sat with your backs against the door of the dingy motel room. Just minutes prior, there had been men banging on the wood, demanding to know where Captain America was hiding.

You hadn’t heard that title in a while.

America’s Golden Boy. If only they knew.

If only they knew how he craved the taste of blood now.

If only they knew how he’d lick the sweat from your neck and keep on going.

If only they knew how the fear turned him on.

Being on the run had taken Steve’s golden blood and turned it black. He didn’t mind. Neither did Bucky. Neither did you.

This was out of your wheelhouse, though. Bucky had gone through wars, been on the run more times than he could count. Steve, too. You, however, were different.

You weren’t 100 years old. You’d been a super soldier for a matter of months. You’d gotten into trouble, pissed off the wrong guys, and it had spiralled out of control. Now, you’re hiding from six armed men with Captain America on your left and The Winter Soldier on your right. How times change.

It all explodes suddenly, and you can’t contain it anymore. You jump up, gun in hand, tears sprinting down your cheeks. You’re pointing the weapon at them, and you’re not sure why. But you’re angry. And upset. And so in love with the both of them it’s driving you crazy.

“Tell me you’re not going to leave me,” you threaten, pressing the barrel of the gun against Steve’s chest.

“Sweetheart-“ he starts, but you cut him off.

“No. Tell me you’re mine. Promise me you’re not going to leave me.”

You’ve still got the gun pointed at Steve, but now you’re grabbing Bucky by his hair, forcing him to look up at you.

“Both of you. Promise me.”

They aren’t looking at you like you’re crazy, or unhinged. They’re looking at you like they’re proud of you. Like they want you. Like they love you.

Steve kicks you hard in the shin, making your legs give way. You’re flat on your back now, and Bucky’s moved to pin your arms above your head. His full weight is pressing into you, and his blond counterpart has crawled to yank your head into his lap.

“We’re yours, baby,” Bucky murmurs against your lips.

“We’re not leaving,” Steve adds from where his forehead is pressed against yours.

“And you look really fucking hot pointing a gun at Steve,” Bucky smirks as he kisses along your neck, sucking a bruise as he goes.

“Asshole,” Steve retorts, but he’s smiling. Not that golden, Captain America smile that everyone’s used to. No, this is different. This is a dark, jagged smile, that’s equal parts cunning and broken. It makes you shiver. But you’re not scared. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me ‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth.

Somewhere in Croatia, you watch Steve and Bucky almost die.

Bullets are raining down, and you’re surrounded on all sides. You can’t see past the swarms of armed men, and you’re bleeding but you’re not sure where from. Steve and Bucky are trying their best, but they’re losing. You’re all losing.

You don’t know where it comes from, the rage. One minute, you’re down on your knees, breathless and sweating. Next minute, you’ve elbowed a man in the face and stolen his machine gun. You’re gunning down men left and right, ignoring their pleas for mercy. The ceiling is raining blood and you’re dripping crimson. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

By the time you get to Bucky and Steve, the abandoned garage looks like a slaughterhouse. You’re stepping over bodies like you’re in a cemetery, your eyes glued to the two people you did all of this for. They’re looking at you like they’re scared of you. Finally, you think. They see me.

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand. Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now? There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

The three of you hijack a cabin in rural Canada.

You’ve been walking through the forests for days when you come upon a small wooden lodge with smoke pummelling out of the chimney. Respite.

Bucky shoots the man point blank when he answers the door. You leave him dead on the porch and make your way inside. It’s cosy, all flannel patterns and fur rugs. You could get comfortable here.

You shower while Steve cooks you dinner. Buck finds decent whiskey in a cabinet, and the three of you take turns drinking it straight from the bottle. You all sit on the floor, legs tangled, warming up by the fireplace. Steve falls asleep, and you step outside to get a breath of fresh air.

The dead man is still on the porch, staring up at you.

“He looks peaceful,” you say to Bucky, who’s appeared silently behind you in the doorway.

“He probably is,” he replies. “God knows anything is more peaceful than this life.”

You charge at him, and bite his lip so hard he whimpers. He takes you right up against the front door, frosty cold biting into your back. Steve watches through the window.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.

When Steve and Bucky get called back to SHIELD, you get scared.

You’re not exactly an upstanding citizen. You’re the furthest thing from an Avenger. SHIELD are going to take one look at you and lock you up for the rest of your life, you’re sure of it.

The boys won’t let that happen.

The two of them argue about going back for days. You get caught in the crossfire. You’re used as an excuse, a bargaining chip, a distraction. You’re a tactic, both of them trying to use you against the other.

Eventually, Bucky cracks. Maybe it’s because your lips are on his neck and Steve’s are on his stomach. Maybe it’s because he’s tired of fighting.

“Fine, Stevie. Fine,” he sighs. “But if it all goes wrong, I’m taking her, and we’re running. I ain’t dealing with all that shit again.”

Steve nods in agreement, and shoves his tongue in Bucky’s mouth.

The three of you decide you’ll go back together. You make a deal – you’ll refuse to be separated. If you have to fight, you’ll fight as one. No one’s going to tear you apart. Not even death.

Steve cuts his palm first, then yours, then Bucky’s. You join hands, and promise that no matter what happens, you’ll always choose each other.

Blood drips down your wrist, and Steve catches it with his tongue.

Both men look at you with their big blue eyes, and you know nothing is ever going to hurt you as much as love does.

[stuckysbike]

All Or Nothing (2)

Part 1

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Pre-Stucky x Reader, pre-Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: Bucky wants his boyfriend back, but his boyfriend is your husband now. And the father of your child.

In this part you spend some time with Bucky.

Warnings: angst, eventual smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, implied cheating (but not really) mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky.

Bucky was a gentleman.

It needled you to no end. He was polite, courteous, considerate. He always asked your opinion, involved you in conversations, carefully introduced you to his most important associates and his closest family members.

When it came to Belle he looked to you first for guidance and confirmation he was doing the right thing. That you approved. He respected your relationship with her. He respected you.

In short he was perfect, faultless.

You hated it. You wanted to hate him, but you couldn’t. There was a coldness to him that you saw with strangers, an aloof attitude. He didn’t carry that home. He was warm at home, charming and playful. His eyes sparkled when he looked at Belle, and the love that he showed to Steve was breathtaking.

It was in his face, in his kindness and attention to detail. He didn’t put himself on a pedestal around Steve, he didn’t touch or kiss him or demand his attention. He was confident and patient and caring and he always sought consent from Steve, from you and even from Belle when he was around her.

You wanted to reject his advances to get to know you, but you couldn’t when he was so sincere, when he told you he desperately wanted to bond with you, at least be friends whilst you all worked out where you stood in this new life.

He took you for dinner, charmed you into sharing your life story, shared a fair amount of his too. You both left Steve out for the most part, a mention of him here and there perhaps.

Then he took you dancing. Bucky loved dancing, and so did you. Steve never really could, but he tried. With Bucky, with his hands on your hips as he guided you through a face paced latin dance, you felt at home. It was where he drew the most sincere laughs from you, where you shared your first moments getting lost deep in his eyes.

He twirled you, and turned you and if you felt your tummy swoop you put it down to Bucky dipping you and not the feeling of his hand on the small of your back or his warm breath on your face.

The first time you kissed he had pulled you into his body from a spin and it felt so natural, but later as you sat at your vanity removing your makeup guilt churned in your gut. Guilt and jealousy and confusion.

It wasn’t really a kiss, a brush of the lips more like as you came together during the dance. Bucky had smiled wide, and he kept his arm tight around you the rest of the night.

You felt safe with him, you realised, and his possessiveness made you feel wanted not uncomfortable. You could still recall the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body.

You showered and after putting on fresh pyjamas you padded downstairs to get a drink.

Steve and Bucky were on the sofa talking in low voices. There was a proper amount of space between them and you heard Bucky explain that he doesn’t kiss and tell. His words made you smile and when Steve heard you two faces gazed lovingly over towards you. They moved to let you sit between them but you just shook your head, got your water and headed back to bed leaving them to talk.

Yes Bucky Barnes was a gentleman and you hated him because really, deep down, you didn’t hate him at all.

No, instead of hating him like you wanted you were falling for him.

[rogerswifesblog]

Good boys

Masterlist

A/N: hi! here’s a little one shot inspired by these three asks:

(The pictures from this little moodboard are from Pinterest )

Summary: Steve and Bucky wake you up…both of them quite needy.

Pairing: switch Steve x sub Bucky x dom reader

Warnings: SMUT, grinding, mmf, handjob, anal sex, anal play, anal fingering, sex toys, mxm sex, bottom Bucky, bottom Steve, top bucky, cum play, rimming, cum eating, mommy kink, daddy kink, top reader, sub Steve, switch Steve, sub Bucky

18+!!! Read the warnings!

You were woken by soft kisses against your neck, hands caressing your skin, squeezing your boob lightly, before letting go and stroking over your side. When you slowly opened your eyes, Bucky smiled at you, Steve whispering a quiet ‘good morning’ into your ear, licking at your earlobe.

You could feel Bucky's dick harden against your thigh, leaking onto your skin. A smirk crept onto your lips.

So it would be that kind of a morning.

While Steve kissed your neck, grinding his hard dick against the curve of your ass, one of his hands slipped between your legs. His fingers rubbed along your wet folds, coating them with your arousal. Closing your eyes again you sighed softly. “We heard you had a good dream, mommy…feels so, too…”, he whispered against your neck, his hand disappearing from between your legs and to Bucky's dick, that he started stroking, making him moan.

“Mmm I had a very good dream…about fucking my sweet boys with a huge dildo…”, you grinned, slowly brushing with one hand Buckys hair, before grabbing it and pulling him into a wanting kiss, which was once again interrupted when he moaned into your mouth.

Steve’s other hand found your clit, circling it slowly. “Will you please fuck us mommy? Come on…look at Buck…he’s already drooling…he needs a good fucking..“, Steve kissed your neck, sucking a small mark. And he was right; bucky was panting into the pillow, nearly drooling. You couldn’t stop yourself from pushing away the blanket, so you could see what Steve was doing to him.

His thick fingers were wrapped tightly around Buckys cock, slowly working him up and down, before grabbing his balls and squeezing them lightly. Pre cum leaking from his tip like a faucet. “Fuck-please, mommy-need you to fuck me”, he moaned, pushing against your leg. Steve’s wet fingers slowly disappeared between Bucky's legs, starting to rub over his hole.

“Then open Bucky up for me and I’ll get the strap on”, you whispered back at Steve, feeling him grin against your shoulder. “Yes, mommy”, he kissed your shoulder, before letting go of Bucky so you could slip from the bed. A quiet whine escaped Bucky's lips when Steve’s hands left his body, but was replaced quickly by a gasp when the blond kissed him.

You watched them for a moment, devouring each other's lips, kissing and licking each other’s skin, sucking marks against their skin, that would disappear soon, like always. Only motivating them to bite and suck harder.

Smirking, you started preparing one of the bigger strap ons, feeling this would be one of this kind of mornings.

One where you get both of your boys all sloppy and tired out.

Out of the corner of your eye you watched both of your boyfriends touch and rub each other, three of Steve’s fingers already pumping deep into Bucky's hole, probably still a bit loose from the evening before.

“You wanna have it a bit rougher this time, Babybuck?”, you kneeled behind Bucky, whispering into his ear, licking at his earlobe. “You want mommys big dick? Want mommy's fake cock to fill you?”, he moaned at your words, already nodding and pushing back into you.

“Fuck-yes, please”, he whined making you chuckle, while Steve started sucking at Buckys nipples, also moaning when Buckys own hand slipped to his hole. God, you loved it when your boy’s prepared for your strap.

You pulled Bucky's hips up, his cheek pressed into the pillow. The change in position made him let go of Steve making him whine when he lost the stimulation against his prostate. “Oh don’t whine Steve, you’ll have your turn, too…”, you pulled his hips up, to. “My pretty needy boys.” A grin crept onto your lips when three of your fingers immediately fitted in his tight hole, while you slowly pushed the thick dildo in Buckys gaping hole, but only the tip. The lube you squirted onto the dildo and his hole dripping. Wet and messy.

“Now, Buck, tell me what you want.” He immediately knew what you wanted to hear, and after all these months in this relationship he wasn’t shy anymore to ask for it. “Want you to fuck me with your fake cock, mommy. Want it rough-want it to hurt-make me feel it for days”, he whimpered.

With one hard thrust you buried the whole thick ten inches in his hole, fucking his sloppy hole. At the same time you fingered Steve’s ass, rubbing his prostate, listening to your boys moan and whine, calling out your name one and then.

With the other hand you grabbed Bucky's hair, pulling him back on his knees-this alone made him moan, he always loved when you pulled his hair. “Steve get under Buck, you’ll get your fun too”, you grinned, pushing with your fingers one more time against his prostate before pulling out.

He gasped immediately sliding in front of Bucky, laying down. “Now Buck, you wanna fuck your daddys ass?” You laughed against Bucky's ear, suckling at his earlobe. He started nodding, a sob escaping his throat.

“Yes, yes please mommy-wanna fuck daddy’s ass-wanna fill daddy”, he sobbed, pulling Steve’s hips up. Steve gasped, pushing back. “Fuck, yes baby. Fuck me, sweetheart”, he moaned, letting bucky thrust his cock into him. Both men moaned loudly, already being close from all the stimulation against their prostates-now Bucky also had his cock in a tight hole. “Oh fuck-fuck mommy I need to-please-need to come”, he whined thrusting into Steve, at the same time fucking himself on your strap.

A quiet chuckle escaped your lips while you started to move your hips a bit harder. You let Bucky beg for a bit longer, before finally telling him to let go. “Come for mommy. Fill Steve’s pretty ass with your cum.” That’s all it took for him to do exactly what you said.

Moaning loudly he filled Steve’s ass, grinding against him, while the dildo was snugly pressed into his hole.

When he was spent his weight dropped onto Steve, making both of them fall. By the way Steve was grinding into the bad and into Buckys overstimulated cock you could tell Steve hast come yet.

You pulled the dildo out of Buckys ass, watching his hole gape around nothing. “Love seeing you like that sweetheart. Always so pretty for us…now come on. Mommy wants to make Stevie come, too, so you need to either fuck him or let mommy eat his ass.”

Since he loved the sight when you ate steve out he immediately pulled out and laid down next to steve, dropping exhausted into the bed. “Wanna watch how mommy eats daddy’s ass”, he bit his bottom lip, his gaze on Steve’s grinning face.

“Our sweetboy”, he mumbled before positioning himself on all fours. You grabbed Steve’s round globes, squeezing his beautiful muscle, before leaning down and licking over his cum leaking hole. The strap was still hanging between your legs, pushing against Steve’s leg, making him imagine how it’d stretch him.

Steve wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself furiously while he felt your tongue lick the cum from his hole, the vibrations from your moans making him whine into the pillow. “Daddy looks so pretty when mommy eats you out”, Bucky started kissing Steve’s neck and shoulders, while steve moaned into the pillow even louder.

It didn’t take him much longer to reach his peak, spilling into his hand. “Oh god-mommy, fuck-feels so good”, he moaned pushing against your tongue, before falling into the sheets.

Both men turned on their backs, grinning at you tiredly. “Fuck, you’re incredible”, Steve mumbled, pulling you over his hips, slowly opening the straps from the strap on.

“Mommy should get a treat, too”, he grinned, pulling you over his still hard cock.

God, how much you loved being with super soldiers.

Well? What do you think?👀

Thank you for reading! Leave some feedback and let me know how you liked it! Don’t forget to comment and reblog!! Support your writers<3

Flood my inbox with HC, Drabble/OS ideas or questions! Just whatever you want to leave there! Anons welcome 😋

[candy-and-writing]

daydreaming about mafia!stucky spoiling me rotten. fancy perfumes? done. expensive lingerie? stocked. the finest luxury clothes? already ordered. because their princess deserves it

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Teacher's pet pt.1

Pairings | Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers (platonic)

 Warnings | implied smut, Bucky tells Steve how to finger

 Word count | 313

 Summary | Bucky's a good teacher and Steve's an eager learner

Masterlist | part two

Steve nodded and Bucky continued. 

Steve nodded and Bucky continued. 

"Focus here," he pointed to a large dot on the diagram, which was labelled 'maximum pleasure'. "They go crazy if you touch 'em there." Bucky added with a reminiscent smirk. 

"What kind of pressure should I use?" Steve asked sheepishly after noting down 'maximum pleasure'. 

"Depends on the dame. Some of 'em like it rough, some like it light. I'd start out in the middle until they tell you otherwise," Bucky explained and steve jotting down 'middle pressure' next to what he'd written previously. "But you should always be checking in if they're havin' a good time." Bucky added. 

Steve wrote down 'check in'. 

"Oh, and make sure you have consent. If I ever hear you touchin' up a dame without her tellin' you to, I'll strangle you myself." Bucky said sternly. Steve scrawled 'CONSENT' down and underlined it. Three times. 

"Got it." 

"Now, once she's drippin' a little, you can push a finger in. Go slow, one at a time." Bucky began and Steve wrote it down. "Ask her before adding another. After three she should be stretched enough." 

Steve wrote 'three to stretch completely'. 

"Of course, you can add more." Bucky added with a sly smirk that made Steve cringe. 

"I think I'll stick to three." Steve nodded and Bucky chuckled. 

"Three should do it nice 'n good. More than that is when you want some real fun."

[fandomwriterstuff]

A Seat at the Round Table (12)

Mob!Stucky x Female Reader

Rated T

~2k words

TW: sexual themes and making out. If I decide to write smut eventually I will change the rating.

When a knock came upon your door the second time, you were sure it was Bucky. So when you cracked the door open and peeked out the door, you were delighted to see him looking handsome as ever. 

“You gonna open the door, darlin’?” He asked with a small smile. Even though he was expecting you to open the door and come out looking breathtaking, he was still stunned by your appearance. You watched as he gulped before raking his eyes up and down your body.

“You look amazing,” he praised you, and you felt your skin heat up. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you commented, brushing your fingers against the skin that his rolled up sleeves exposed. He wore a navy button up, sleeves rolled to the forearms, and you were caught between wanting to drool over the muscle there or the way his pants hugged his thighs. You decided to grab his hand and look at his eyes instead, trying not to embarrass yourself too much. 

“You ready?”

“I was born ready,” you smiled and reveled in his light chuckle as you walked hand-in-hand to the dining room. When you passed through the entryway though, it looked so different from the bright and sunny room you tended to eat breakfast in. It was dim, the chandelier at a low light setting with candles strewn throughout the room. 

“This is lovely,” you breathed, looking at the intimate setting. 

“The candles were all Bucky’s idea,” Steve’s voice drifted through the air as he approached the two of you. “He’s always been better with women,” he admitted with a soft smile. 

“I think you’re doing pretty well,” you released Bucky’s hand to walk over and get on your toes to brush a kiss to Steve’s cheek. The resulting pink dusting his cheeks was a delightful surprise. 

Your dinner was lovely, no red sauce was spilled and Bucky did pair an excellent wine with Steve’s delicious dish. 

“I’ll have to cook for the two of you sometime,” you spoke after a brief silence while you ate. “I love cooking and baking.”

“Didn’t know that,” Bucky looked curious, and you shrugged.

“My father doesn’t really let me cook. Too dangerous or messy I guess,” you missed the darkening of their eyes at the mention of your father, as you were looking down at your hands.

“Well you’re always welcome here to do as you please. Maybe we could bake something together,” Steve trailed off and you looked up to see his sheepish face. “Though I have to admit I’m not nearly as good at baking as I am at cooking.”

“You can always learn,” you gave him a smile. “And what about you, Sergeant Barnes,” you quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you ever cook?” 

He didn’t look surprised that you knew about his rank, and he gave you a salacious grin.

“I’m not much of an expert in the kitchen. I prefer to enjoy my dessert… Elsewhere,” you bit your lip, trying not to show too much reaction to the obvious innuendo. Luckily you heard a soft sound and turned to see Steve literally face-palming himself. You chuckled. 

“Is he always this much of a tease?” You wondered, and Steve let out a huff of a laugh.

“You have no idea, darling.”

“One of us has to do it,” Bucky added. “How else is she going to know we’re interested?”

“I think the candlelit dinner is a good hint,” Steve deadpanned and you watched them go back and forth like a tennis match.

“Hints aren’t good enough, Steven,” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Remember how ‘subtle’ you were before we got together?” Steve’s cheeks reddened and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You didn’t even know I was asking you out,” Steve mumbled. 

“Exactly. And we want this lovely lady here to know we’re interested in her, yes?” Bucky asked, gesturing to you as you sipped on your wine. Steve’s eyes shot over to you and he smiled.

“Of course. In that case,” Steve stood, and for once Bucky looked like he wasn’t sure where this was going. Neither did you, actually. “I think we should make our intentions crystal clear.”

You blinked up at Steve as he was suddenly beside you, and you watched as he knelt down next to you, hands reaching out to hold both of yours in your lap. He said your name so softly, like a prayer. 

“I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re enchanted by you. You light up every room you enter, you fill our days with joy and fun, and we want you to feel that way about us,” you opened your mouth to reply but he tutted at you. “I’m not finished, little dove. I need to make sure you know where this is headed,” you nodded. You were so focused on Steve you didn’t realize Bucky moved until his hands were settling softly on your shoulders behind you. “We want to take you out on dates, we want to cook for you, we want to make you happy,” he was so deadly serious, you couldn’t look away even for a moment. The way he was looking at you with such devotion, you’d never felt anything like this before. “We want to make you feel so special and included that when we ask you to join us in our relationship, you can’t help but say yes. And when you do,” here, he let go of your hands. With one of his hands he cupped your cheek, never once breaking eye contact. His other hand laid gently on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles there. “Well, I think Bucky would describe this best,” Steve smirked at you, eyes glimmering. 

You felt his breath on the back of your neck before you felt his lips brush against your ear. 

“When you say yes, we’re going to ravish you. We’re going to take you on every flat surface in this house. We’re going to have you begging for more,” he paused, cool metal fingers brushing a few stray hairs off of the nape of your neck. You were still gazing at Steve, though the look he was giving you now was infinitely more heated than it was minutes ago. 

Bucky took slow steps coming around your chair to stand before you. You finally looked up at him, mind feeling hazy with want and arousal. 

“Are our intentions clear?” Bucky spoke with authority and you couldn’t help but respond.

“Crystal.”

“Does that sound like something you would be interested in?” Steve asked, still kneeling in front of you.

“Absolutely,” you breathed, trying not to outwardly show how affected you were by their words. 

“Great,” You looked back at Steve, who leaned in to brush his lips against your forehead. “I think it’s time for dessert.”

Dessert wasn’t what you were hoping it was (keep it in your pants, lady!) but it was a delightful tiramisu. 

You were starting to regret wearing the tight jeans, you were remembering what Percival said about not putting out on the first date. You imagined for a second what it would look like trying to peel those pants off of your legs… Not sexy. Maybe a skirt would have been better, or a dress.

No, you’re not going to have sex with them tonight. They want to court you before they do the ravishing, you reminded yourself.

However, you did end up in the living room sharing a couch with the two of them trying to pay attention to the movie that was on. Truthfully, all you could think about was Steve’s thick arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, and Bucky’s hand on your thigh. 

“Are you feeling a little distracted, little dove?” Steve whispered in your ear, and you internally cursed yourself. He must have asked you something and you were totally spaced out. 

“Maybe a little,” you turned to face him, surprised to see him so close. But then again, he had just whispered in your ear.

“Whatever for?” Was his response and you bit your lip, gazing up into his blue eyes. 

“You and Bucky sure do have a way with words,” you were referencing their proposal from earlier, and Steve knew it. You could tell by the sparkle in his eyes.

“We didn’t get you all excited, did we?” He was smiling now, and his fingers were brushing against your arm. You were indulging in the warmth of his embrace. You opened your mouth to reply, but you heard a sigh from behind you.

“You two are no fun to watch movies with,” Bucky grumbled, though you were still locked in a stare with Steve when he replied to his partner.

“I don’t know, Bucky. I’m having fun. Aren’t you, darling?” You nodded at his words and Bucky caught on to your predicament.

You felt his fingers skitter across your waist and hip as he sidled up behind you. 

“You two are insatiable. Can’t get enough of each other, huh?” He asked, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck in the softest kiss. 

Steve gave you a little nod in his partner’s direction and you turned in their grasp to face the brunet.

“Can’t get enough of you either,” the words came out of your mouth alongside a saucy smirk, and Bucky gave you a smile back. You reached up and delicately cupped his jaw, feeling the stubble there and gazing into his bright eyes.

“Is that so?” He finally replied, and you nodded before closing the slim gap between you to barely graze your lips against his. It was tentative, and gentle. Bucky was having none of it. 

The hand that was stroking your waist was now holding you firmly, while his other dragged you even closer by the back of your neck. When he kissed you back, it was hungry and wonderful. You kissed him back with equal passion as his tongue swirled with your own. Time seemed to stop around the three of you as Bucky pulled you impossibly close to him and he cradled you in his arms. 

Moments later, you felt Steve press against your back just before his lips descended on your neck, lavishing you in heated kisses. 

If your mind wasn’t a complete daze of want and arousal and the taste of Bucky’s kisses and the feel of Steve sucking on your neck, you might have told yourself to slow down. As it was though, it was Steve who had to do it. 

“Bucky,” he murmured from behind you, and the brunet pulled away from you slowly, peeking over your shoulder to look at his partner. You smiled when Steve kissed the strong brunet on the nose. “I think perhaps we should finish this movie another night and bring Y/N back to her room. Wouldn’t want to get too carried away,” you pouted, but he was probably right. 

“Alright, punk. You make a good point,” Bucky grumbled before disentangling himself from you. Steve chuckled at what must have been your disheveled appearance, and he patted down your hair, brushing a few strands back, and straightened your clothes. 

“Wouldn’t want you walking around looking like you were just making out with someone on the couch, do we?” Steve explained and you smiled shyly.

“Probably not,” you laughed, but before the three of you could stand up and make your way to your room, you leaned in quickly and gave Steve a kiss. His eyebrows raised up into his hairline, but he was smiling. “Alright, now we can go.”

Part 11

[buckymorelikefuckme]

there's this one story i've had in a doc for like... two years? maybe three? idk i'd have to check but anyway!

it started out as a fic. and then when i decided i wanted to try my hand at becoming an author, i chose to use the idea for a book. but now, i'm very seriously considering making it back into a fic again, bc i love this story so much, but i just don't know that i can do it justice as a full-length book.

and the thing is, down the line, i still could make it into a book if i ever feel like it. i'm just so torn ugh...

should i switch it back to fic? yes or no ??

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[rookthorne]

all of my Stucky AUs and collections in the one place.

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐁

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀  = angst — 𝐖  = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃  = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅  = fluff — 𝐒  = smut

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 + 𝐒

Today was the day — your birthday, but how would the many Bucky’s treat you? With a lil’ bit of nice? Or a lil’ bit of spice?

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗘𝗥

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

֎ 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm — their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, but you could only hope they’d let the fire they started in the depth of your soul, consume you whole.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗢𝗢

𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 

֎ 𝐏 + 𝐅

The world of body art and botany had always been beautiful to you; each pencil stroke and each flower petal amounted to a masterpiece of creation. It wasn’t until the day that a chance meeting left you reeling amongst the artful blooms of your store, you wondered if that was what heaven truly felt like.

[biteofcherry]

Stucky Masterlist

Fringe Benefit  Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; stucky x female reader

summary: You hope that your solid plan to pay back your brother’s debt will be accepted by the dangerous businessmen slash mobsters. Steve and Bucky see holes in your plan and offer you a different solution.

warnings: dark Steve Rogers dark Bucky Barnes; dub-con; manipulation; forced orgasm; blowjob; deepthroating; power imbalance; explicit sexual situations; praise kink; breeding kink;  

Little Worshiper Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

summary: Bucky and Steve graciously make your fantasy of watching them together come true. But it comes for a price. One you may have not be prepared for.

warnings: smut; consensual; D/s undertones; power imbalance; hints of voyeurism; orgasm denial; a small dose of degradation

Winner takes it all drabble

[bethsvrse]

pov: I find a good smut fic but it includes a daddy kink

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @mcu21lover19 @almosttoopizza @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs @scott-loki-barnes @gabshouse @barnes1031 @am-3-thyst @awkotaco24 @fangirl-swagg @she-wolf09231982

also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[flightlessangelwings]

Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.

Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.

Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!

And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!

And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!

We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.

[candy-and-writing]

anybody got any comfort! stucky x reader fic recs??

[fandomwriterstuff]

A Seat at the Round Table (11)

Mob!Stucky x Female reader

Rated T

~2k words

TW: a single swear word

Rather unfortunately, Sam interrupted the rest of your breakfast by telling Steve and Bucky there was an urgent development in your father’s situation. So you found yourself wandering the halls again, aimlessly. This time you ran into Natasha, and considering her patchy appearance, she didn’t look nearly as disgruntled as you thought she would. Her skin was light pink in the places she’d managed to scrub off the self tanner, and a medium tan in the places she hadn’t. You winced, preparing to give an honest apology.

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry,” she started as she walked up to you. “I know you’re new here, and Clint can be persuasive. But,” she paused and smirked at you. “Next time, you’re on my side zayka.” The word rolled off her tongue in a language foreign to you, but your curious look must have been pretty obvious.

“It means bunny, because you’re both cute and a little mischievous,” she gave you a pat on the back before walking off. “Get changed, I left workout clothes on your bed. Self defense has moved up.”

“Where should I meet you?” You called after her, unsure how you would get to wherever that place was.

“Barton will take you to the training room, he’ll be waiting outside your door.”

With that in mind, you made your way back to the room you were staying in. As you approached you could see Clint standing outside your door looking like a kicked puppy.

“You’re my escort today?” You asked once you were close enough. He gave you a crooked smile.

“I’m trying to get back into Natasha’s good graces so she doesn’t try to prematurely end my life,” you wanted to laugh but you weren’t actually sure if he was kidding.

“Good to know,” you settled for a nod and turned into your room where a pair of workout leggings, a sports bra in your size, and a fitted sports material t-shirt lay. Once changed, Clint took you through the manor towards what must be the training room. 

Natasha had you warm up by running a mile on a treadmill - something you didn’t know you could do, and then you stretched together.

“This is a very tight outfit,” you half-complained, pulling at the moist t-shirt.

“If it’s loose, somebody could pull you backwards and chloroform you,” she pointed out and you quieted. Touché. “You won’t always have time to stretch or warm up if you’re attacked in the real world, but if you stretch and run daily your body will be more accustomed to it,” she stated before pulling you into a standing position.

Day one of self-defense was a lot of posture practice. Natasha told you how to hold your hands, where to place your feet, and where your center of gravity should be. 

“Remember, you’re not trying to get into a fight with someone. You’re trying to distract or disable them so you can run away,” she’d been beating this fact into you for an hour now and you nodded.

“Run away, don’t stay and fight. Got it,” you confirmed.

“We’ll work on more moves tomorrow, but remember your posture. Defensive, not offensive,” you nodded again before the two of you parted ways. 

Clint walked you back to your room (you would have likely gotten lost without him) mostly in silence. When you approached your door, Bucky was leaning against the doorframe waiting for you.

“I’ll see you later, kiddo,” Clint waved as he meandered off, and you returned the gesture before turning to Bucky with a smile.

“What can I do for you today?” You asked as he reached out to twirl a finger through a strand of your hair. 

“Steve and I want to take you out on a proper date, but with the new development in your father’s case…” He trailed off and frowned. “We’re not sure if taking you out into town would be a great idea. We don’t mean to trap you here, you’re free to go. We just don’t think it’s the best idea right now,” you frowned but nodded. It made sense. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on with my father that’s causing problems?” You asked, leaning against the other side of the door jamb. 

“He stole a flash drive with information from us and is trying to blackmail us into returning you to him. We expressed to him that you’re here of your own free will, and luckily the flash drive is encrypted and the information is coded, so he would need a lot of help to get the information on it,” he paused and sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “But it’s a risk we don’t want to take. We’re going to have to take it from him. But it needs to be fast so that he doesn’t have time to get at the information and decode it.”

“What does that mean for me?” You wondered.

“Well, we’re sending people out to get the drive and make sure your father doesn’t know anything, but that means we have less people to guard the compound. That’s why we’d like for you to stay, we don’t have all the manpower we need to keep you safe outside,” you nodded at his words. You were used to being guarded so this was nothing new. “But,” Bucky added, a smile forming on his face. “Steve is making his ma’s famous spaghetti sauce, and I am an expert in pairing wines with food, so we still want to give you a nice night. If you’ll have us, that is,” he looked down at you with glittering eyes. “I know it’s not as nice as a night out on the town, but it’s still a date.”  

“That would be lovely,” you couldn’t help the smile that lit up your face. “But what does one wear for a first date if it’s an at home dinner?” You asked with a laugh. “I haven’t got much to choose from,” you added.

“Sharon picked you out some things, you have options laid out on the bed I’m told,” Bucky reassured you and you smiled brighter. 

“Excellent.”

“Great, I’ll meet you here at six?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. You were so excited you didn’t see Bucky moving until he was brushing his lips against your cheek, soft as silk.

“I’ll see you later, beautiful,” and with that, you parted ways. Bucky went down the hallway and you went into the bedroom to judge the clothes Sharon had chosen for you. 

It was nearing five thirty, your makeup was done and you were pacing the room in your bra and underwear, still contemplating your outfits. You couldn’t call on Natasha or Clint (you’d been told that both were fashion experts), as they were on the mission trying to get the flash drive back. Sharon and Sam were also presumably there, as you hadn’t seen them all day. You didn’t know if there were any other women around who could help. You were just tying up your bathrobe, ready to make a phone call to… Sharon… Maybe, when there was a knock on the door. 

It couldn’t be Bucky… Could it? It was too early. 

You peeked your head out the door to see a well-dressed and well-groomed man standing at your door. 

“Hello?” Your tone made it sound like a question. But before he could even respond you had decided. “You look like a fashionable man,” you added and quickly tugged him into the room. His forearm was lined with wiry muscle, so he could have resisted, but he was likely too curious to do so, and allowed you to direct him towards the outfits laid out on your bed. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Percival for now,” he turned to face you. “You must be Y/N,” he added with a suave smile and you raised an eyebrow. Maybe you should have called Sharon. You internally shook yourself, no. Percival would have to do. “And you are correct, I am extremely well-dressed. How can I help you?”

“I have a stay at home date tonight and Sharon picked me out these outfits but I don’t know what to wear. I’ve excluded the white one because there will be red pasta sauce involved and that would be a travesty,” you sighed and rubbed your temples, wary of messing up your makeup.

“Sharon put these outfits out?” He asked, and you nodded. “She picked good pieces, but I don’t think she matched them up well. This is a rather casual date, but you still want to look like a million bucks,” he circled your bed, picking at some of the clothes and jewelry that were laid out before rearranging them. “I think the dark wash jeans are the way to go. They’re classic, they’ll make your ass look out of this world, and they’re too tight to remove easily which says ‘I don’t put out on a first date.’” 

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” you noted and he smirked at you.

“I know women’s fashion, and I’ve been on a lot of first dates.” You couldn’t hide the huff of laughter that ensued, but it didn’t seem like he minded. “Now for the top, I think you were right to forgo the white. Accident waiting to happen. I think the red wrap shirt would be best. Wrap shirts make the ladies look amazing,” he cupped his pecs where breasts might be with a saucy smile, and you were starting to think this guy was a ladies man. “And both cap and the sarg love red,” you must have looked confused, and Percival took pity on you. “The big bosses were in the army, didn’t you know? Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers,” you made an ‘oh’ face. You didn’t know that. And you were lucky you’d asked for their last names a few days ago or you would have been even more confused. 

“So you’re thinking this,” you moved the dark jeans over to the red wrap shirt. “With this,” at his confirmation you nodded. “What about shoes?”

Percival took a glance at the pairs of shoes lined up in front of the bed. “Those,” he pointed to a pair of black heeled boots. “Now go change, I’ll be waiting.”

You did as he said, changing in the bathroom. You fluffed your hair and adjusted your bra so the girls looked their perkiest before walking back out into the bedroom. 

“Thoughts?” You asked before doing a twirl.

“Absolute stunner. Great work,” he patted himself on the back and this time you didn’t hold back your laughter.

“You’re one cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?” You wondered and he only grinned back at you.

“It’s one of my best qualities, sugar. Now, I’m assuming one of your knights in shining armor will be here soon and I don’t want to be seen in your sleeping space so I will be making my exit,” but before he could leave you had to ask…

“What did you come here for anyway? Why did you knock?”

“The bosses haven’t taken an interest in a woman since before the army. I wanted to see for myself what was so… Enthralling,” he peered at you, looking you up and down before winking. “I get it now.”

When the door closed behind him you were left a little shell-shocked. He was a whirlwind of a man. What an interesting experience.

Part 10 Part 12