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scarletdawnxx-blog · 3 years

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Nightmare Chapter 3 Continuation of Bucky Barnes x Reader

You sat crossed legged on Bucky’s bed, a pillow across your lap, which Bucky’s head laid upon.

“Whatever you hear, don’t interrupt, don’t enter the room.” You told Steve who was standing over the two of you.

“That doesn’t make me feel good,” Bucky grumbled.

“It will be fine, but this will take a lot of concentration and it can’t be broken. If I pull out of his mind part way through, things could go,” You paused trying to find the right words, you could feel the nervousness in both of them. “Well not like how we would like them.” You finished. Steve nodded and left you to it, closing the door behind him.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Bucky asked. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course, do you still want to go through with this?” He simply nodded.

You took a deep breath, placing your hands on either side of his head. Closing your eyes, you slipped into his mind. You instantly felt like you had just been dropped in a vast, churning sea, finding it hard to find your way up.

Concentrating harder, you searched for those memories from so long ago, when Hydra had first taken him. You could feel him fighting you, trying to push those memories further from you. But you followed that darkness pulling you deeper. There was so much darkness, and despair. Your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest from all the pain. Sweat started to bead on your brow as you witnessed memory after memory, dark and cold and pain in all of them. What was worse was truly seeing what Bucky had endured. The brainwashing had indeed turned his body and mind into a perfect, obedient weapon, he truly had no control and had to sit back and watch himself commit all these terrible crimes, aware of everything he was doing but powerless to stop it, screaming trying to wake himself out of it. Tears were in both your eyes and you continued in deeper until finally you found them. The trigger words rooted deep into him. You knew this part was going to be painful for both of you. The words almost taking on a life of their own and digging deeper, not wanting to be removed. You were hoping to trick them, make them think you were alike.

Bucky’s breathing had become erratic, gritting his teeth down, trying not cry out. You couldn’t take this pain away, not while you were so deep in it with him, all your focus and power being used to pull these words out by the root. You’re not sure how long you were in there, or who the screams were coming from by the end, but you had pulled everything from his mind except one. Something you weren’t quite expecting. A kill safe word, to neutralize him in case he had gotten out of hand in those early days. You almost laughed when you saw the word flash in your mind. Sputnik. Say that word and he would fall into a deep sleep, reverting him back to Bucky from the Winter Soldier. You had a decision to make, do you leave it, in case it all your work was for nothing and you needed to stop him from hurting the others. Did they know about the safe word? Did Bucky? Surely it would have been talked about if the team knew. Bucky soon started thrashing under you and the word slipped from your grasp. You soothed his mind as you made your way back out, not fading out the memories from Hydra, you had talked and the info those memories gave was too vital to remove, but you unhitched the emotions from them, took away the guilt. You could feel his own sense of calm over taking yours and something else, something you hadn’t felt when you first entered his mind. A warm glowing feeling. It had been so small it had been swallowed by everything else, but now, you could feel it wholly. It felt like someone calling you home. It was all safe and good and love, you realized. He loved someone. You didn’t pry further, he deserved some secrets. You gently removed your hand from him and wiped your tear-stained face. Bucky still lay there, having fallen into a calm sleep, his mind exhausted. You opened his bedroom door to see Steve, Natasha and Sam sitting outside.

“How is he?” Steve asked concerned jumping up and peering over your shoulder into the room.

“Sleeping.” You said quietly looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Do you think it worked?” he asked as you closed the door behind you.

“I think so, we will need to test it later, but now, let him rest. His mind will need time.” You said wrapping your arms around yourself feeling cold, deep in your bones. “How long was I in there?”

“It’s been hours, we weren’t concerned until the screams started.” Natasha said standing up from her spot on the floor. “What happened in there?” she asked concerned.

“Let’s go down to the kitchen and talk, I could really use something to eat.” You told them jerking your head in that direction. They quietly nodded and the group of you made your way to the kitchen. Hours must have passed because as you approached the kitchen one of the many staff members was already preparing dinner. You settled yourself into a chair, Steve and Sam joining you, while Natasha busied herself making a cup of tea. The men just stared at you waiting for you to tell them what happened.

“It was difficult, the trigger words were deep rooted and had almost taken on a life of their own, they fought me, not wanting to be removed, but I think I did it. It was painful, for both of us.” You finished rubbing your arms, trying to warm yourself.

“How are you not exhausted?” Sam asked. “Normally you would be wiped out after using them for such an extended period of time.”

“I mean, I am tired, but I don’t feel drained. I guess all that training is paying off.” You shrugged your shoulders. Not really having an explanation.

“Or you are becoming more powerful than you thought you could be.” Natasha said setting a cup of hot tea in front of you. Taking it in your hands welcoming the warmth it gave you. That was a scary thought. How long before it got to be to much for you, before you may not be able to control it anymore, before someone decided to use it for their own gain.

“I think it would be best for everyone to not let that kind of news getting out,” Steve said leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded in agreement. It was your deepest fear, not that you would ever let them know that. You thought back on the paper you had read about genetic mutations, about the professor who had written the paper. Perhaps you should reach out to him. See if he had the answers, you were looking for. You looked at the people around you, they al l had explanations for their powers, Steve and Bucky with their super serum, Sam and Tony with their tech, Nat with her years of training and abuse in the red room. You were surrounded by gods and people exposed to elements that changed them, but nothing like that had ever happened to you. Just one day it fully awoke inside of you and now, your powers were taking off faster than you could really keep up with them, especially now that you were flexing that muscle more and more.

When Bucky finally emerged hours later, he found you sitting alone, the rest of the team having left for various task around the compound. Sitting around waiting for Bucky to wake up wasn’t helping anyone. But you had drifted so far off in your own mind they had left you to it, said you had done enough.

“Y/N” he said quietly, trying not to startle you.

“Hey Barnes, How are you feeling?” you asked giving him a small smile.

“You walked around my brain and I still can’t get you to call me Bucky,” he teased trying to make light of the whole situation.

“It’s not my fault that you have a ridiculous nickname.” You retorted and he sat down next to you. “But really, how are you feeling?” you asked again placing a hand on his arm, genuine concern etched on your face.

“I feel fine, lighter I guess, like I don’t have the weight of all those years on me.” He replied looking at your hand. You pulled it back quickly, not sure if after everything he was okay with the contact. “I’m guessing it worked then? What you did?” he asked still not really meeting your eyes, afraid of what he would see there. Disgust? Pity? Hate? Not knowing your heart ached to hold him close and not let him go.

“I think so but there is really only one way to find out. I know the words, we need to see if they still awaken what was buried deep in you.” You stood and made your way to the window, the sky turning shades of coral and lilac from the setting sun. “Whenever you’re ready that is.” You added turning slightly back to look at him over your shoulder. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.

“No time like the present right? We are this far down already, time to finish it.” Bucky replied and you turned to fully look at him. He was scared, you could feel it.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you gather the team to the interrogation rooms?” You asked the A.I. not looking away from Bucky. She located each member of the team on compound grounds and you and Bucky made your way towards the rooms you had been avoiding but it would be the safest place, nothing he could really break in there.

“So, we are really doing this?” Tony asked leaning against the far back wall of the observation room.

“He says he wants to get it over with,” You replied to Tony, seeing Bucky sitting in the room by himself. He looked so tired, you could see the extended years on him, how old his soul felt.

“I still say we should restrain him, you know, in case it didn’t work.”

“Absolutely not,” You clipped at him in a harsh tone. You knew Bucky had endured all of that torture while being strapped down and you wouldn’t let that happen to him again. Tony just threw his arms up in defeat. “Besides, Steve will be in there with me, in case something goes wrong.” You looked to Steve and he nodded, you both entering the room with Bucky.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y activate barn door protocol.” Stark Said and the facility locked down. Bucky looked to you and Steve.

“Just a precaution,” Steve said in a reassuring manner placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky half smiled, trying not to show his worry. “If you aren’t ready to do this we don’t have to do it right this second. No one would blame you if you weren’t ready. If you still needed time Buck.” Steve told him. It was true, the whole team knew that this would be hard for him, all expect Tony who just wanted it over with.

“No, Y/N worked to hard to not test it.” Bucky said finally looking at you. He could see it on you too, the worry and fear. It matched his own. But you were afraid for a different reason, you were afraid you had failed him, that you put his mind through all of that for nothing, that you couldn’t save him. All he saw was fear that the Winter Soldier and all he had done was in this small room with her, with only Steve standing between her and possible death. He quickly looked away. “Let’s get this over with,” he said straightening himself and swallowing down his fear, hardening himself against the emotions rolling around inside of him.

You wanted to say something but words had left you, what would you say to him anyways, the way he looked at you, it made your mouth go dry, gone were the feelings of friendship, the intimacy you had shared not but a few nights ago holding him tight after he had agreed to try this and it was replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. Everything he was feeling was so jumbled around.

“Желание” you began and he stiffened. “ржавый, семнадцать,” you continued. Bucky fought against the pull of the words, still remembering every life that had been taken. “рассвет, печь, девять,” Bucky ground his teeth, gripping the arms of the chair tightly, tears breaking free from his eyes. “доброкачественный, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон.” You finished and stared at him for a long moment, looking for any change, but he just looked at you with relief in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you thought for a moment you would burst into tears along with him.

“Buck?” Steve asked cautiously.

Bucky looked at his friend and smiled standing from the chair. Steve took him into a tight hug. You wanted to go to him, to look into those eyes and know that he was free of all Hydra had done to him. To celebrate this moment with him. Instead, you quietly walked from the room, the rest of the team greeting you with praise but it all felt hollow somehow. But you smiled at them and made your excuses, the team joining Steve and Bucky. You walked quietly through the compound, the barn door protocol being lifted as you went, making your way to the large glass front of the building. Outside you could see Bruce talking with a red head you didn’t recognize, they both looked at you as you stepped into the cooling night air. Just then an elderly man in a wheel chair came into view.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Professor Charles Xavier,” he said in a British accent, this was the man who wrote the research you had been reading. “I think we need to have a talk.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #xmen #reader insert #Steve Rogers #tony stark #The Avengers #natsha romanoff #sam wilson #falcon and the winter soldier

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beckzorz · 4 years

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caduto dalle nuvole (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 5012 Summary: A detour on a mission leads to destruction, and a discovery. Warnings: Canon-typical violence and gore. A/N: Happy Secret Seba, Paige @sebastiansloserclub!!!! It was a pleasure to write for you! Thank you to @jobean12-blog for beta reading <3 The title, “caduto dalle nuvole,” is an Italian idiom that means literally “fallen from the clouds” and figuratively “taken aback.” Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy xoxo

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

You close the mission briefing and tuck the file under your arm as you stand, just barely controlling the tic in your jaw. “None, Captain.”

“Good.” His relief is palpable. “The jet leaves in ninety minutes. Good luck, agent.”

—

“I’ll be back,” Antonio says, and then he slams the barn door shut.

You gape. A key scrapes against a lock. Your heart stops for a horrible moment, and then you bolt forward.

“Hey!”

You slam into the door, body and door shaking from the impact. A chain rattles on the other side, and a car engine starts to purr.

“Hey!” you scream.

The car drives off, grinding against the gravel drive. You bang your fists against the door, rage clouding your vision, filling your veins.

Behind you, your partner lets out a breath and a thump. You turn, blinking away the red in your vision, and stare.

Bucky Barnes is sitting on a pile of hay, hands clasped between his spread thighs and his expression sardonic.

“Well,” he says. “That went well.”

You whirl back to the door, teeth clenched. You can’t manage a reply, not when it was his idea to hitchhike instead of taking the bus. Your own mother had hitchhiked across Europe in the seventies, but it’s not the seventies anymore. It’s decades later, and now… now you’ve been kidnapped. Kidnapped!

“We’re literally locked in a barn,” you snap. “And you just want to sit there?!”

Bucky sighs. “Look, this guy clearly has something up his sleeve. I did some research in the back seat while you were being sociable. SHIELD’s made a note of this guy before. Our mission isn’t so urgent that we can’t delay a day to figure out what his deal is.”

You lean your shoulder against the door and gape at him. “What, you think Steve will just say, ‘Sure, Buck, that’s totally fine! It’s not like I specifically tasked you to find these dangerous terrorists or anything?’”

“Uh, that’s what he said, yeah.” Bucky shifts on the haypile and holds up his phone. “I texted him to check.”

“Typical,” you mutter. You turn back to the door, the start of a headache pricking at your temples. You crouch down and peer through the crack of the barn door, looking for the chain.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks. His voice seems small in the open barn.

You don’t answer. What’s the point? Surely it’s obvious. Why else would you be studying the way out except to break out? To enjoy the view?

Besides, it’s not like he ever tells you anything. If you hadn’t asked, would he have even mentioned he’d spoken with Steve?

He’s never told you anything he hasn’t needed to.

You stare at the chain through the gap in the door. It’s afternoon outside—if you rattle the door, you can see the sun glinting off the shifting links. Something to look at while you consider why your frustration is tinged with dejection.

When you’d first joined—when you were recruited, you’d had so much hope in Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier, stolen and used and come back to himself? It was your own story, if decades out of sync. Sam Wilson, bless him, even encouraged you to strike up a friendship with him. Sam, the only one who knew your whole story. Steve probably does by now too, but still. Sam was the first to know. He was the one who got out you. Got you free.

Of course, all the attempts you made to befriend Bucky fell flat. He was—and still is—polite, but unfathomably distant. Anyway, why would he bother opening up to you? He has Sam, Steve… Even Natasha, the only other person you might have felt comfortable talking to. He doesn’t like talking about his past, Steve once said. Try Natasha. But if you talked to her, she’d tell him everything.

And you don’t want to be talked about.

Not like that. Not by them.

You force yourself to your feet and step back. The hinges on the door are bolted in place—no easy removal there. Maybe a tool kit…?

The barn is dim, hazy. The sunlight streaming in from the small windows slants down in clouded beams, turning the hay-littered dirt floor into a mosaic of light and dark. And Bucky is all in shadow on his yellow throne. He’s barely moved since you last looked his way. Just sitting, and watching you.

“Did you see a toolbox anywhere?” you ask.

Bucky turns his head left, then right. “Nope.” He props his elbow on his knee and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. “Whatcha thinking?”

You prowl the perimeter, looking in every built-in shelf and drawer. “Unbolt the door hinges. Neither of us’d fit through the windows, and—wait a second.” You whirl to face him, quivering with relief. “Forget that. You can just force the door open!”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky asks. He holds up his left hand—it looks like a regular hand for the mission, but under the smokescreen is that same vibranium, that same strength. “Do you really wanna advertise that the Winter Soldier is in Italy? Right now? While we’re on an undercover mission?”

“Um, regular people break through doors all the time, Barnes.” You dash over and try to pull him to his feet.

He doesn’t budge.

“Seriously?!” You drop his heavy arm, muscles tight and hands quivering. “Are you just going to sit there? And do nothing?”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I am. And as mission lead, that’s the call I’ve made. So sit down and chill, firecracker.”

Your fists curl into balls and you stalk away.

Firecracker.

A nickname, one you’ve despised since the first time Natasha sang it out over the comms on a mission last month. Firecracker, of all things! Like you’re no more than a party trick. An object. Not even an animal. Not even something powerful. Firecrackers are all about a lot of noise, not power. And you…

You slow as you reach the door. The wood is rough as you slide your palms across it and press your forehead across the gap. Outside, it’s still bright. Still afternoon. Inside, it feels like a nightmare.

You haven’t been locked in anywhere on a mission since… since…

For a long time.

You don’t like it. You close your eyes, breathe in—the air in the barn is stale, but if you squish your nose enough, you can get a hint of freshness from outside. The door scrapes your cheeks as you settle yourself.

It’s okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be—

A hand on your shoulder: you spin, catch their wrist, and stop short when you realize it’s only Bucky.

“You okay?” he asks. Is that pity in his voice?

“Of course I’m fine!”

His skin is hot to the touch; he and Steve have always run warm, but it’s a strange feeling to be touching him like this. It’s not part of training, not part of a fight…

You drop his hand and sidle out from between him and the door. Your hands are still trembling. You straighten them out until your bones ache, fingers flexed and muscles straining. Even your jaw is trembling.

“You’re not,” Bucky says flatly. “What do you need?”

A hollow laugh escapes you. You lean against a pillow and slide down until you’re sitting on the floor. “To not be in here! What the hell do you think? That I’m thrilled to be locked in somewhere I’m more liable to disintegrate than not?”

“What do you…”

Bucky trails off. You don’t bother looking up at him. God knows what he thinks of you.

But it’s one thing to be in hiding. It’s another thing to be locked up. God, how can he bear it? After everything, how can he—how can you—how could you ever—

“Hey.”

Your head jerks up, your eyes wide. Bucky is kneeling a few feet away, his hands clasped between his knees. They both look like human hands; a smokescreen disguises his left. It’s a good disguise, but it looks wrong on him all the same. He—it’s not him, it’s not…

“Look at me, firecracker,” Bucky murmurs. Your eyes snap to his; your eyebrows draw low.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss. “I’m not some toy.”

He blinks. “It’s a nickname. A term of endearment, not ridicule. Hell, Sam calls me Tin Man. Does that make me brainless?”

“Sam’s your friend!”

Bucky’s mouth drops open and his blue eyes round as saucers. “Wha—”

He stops mid-word. He cocks his head to the side. You open your mouth, but he holds up a hand, silencing whatever you’d been about to say.

His sudden silence, the way he’s listening—is someone coming?

You give Bucky a look, and he nods. You both let out a breath and stand silently. Whatever you’d been talking about, it has to wait. Right now, you’re done arguing.

Right now, you’re a team.

Tires screech outside; you look to Bucky for confirmation. He holds up three fingers.

Three vehicles.

How many people in them?

And why, why are they here? Did they recognize Bucky? He’s not immediately recognizable out of uniform, at least to the untrained eye—but are these trained eyes? Was Bucky’s face the only reason you got picked up on the side of the road? This kind of mishap has happened before…

Car doors open, footsteps crunch in gravel, and you flex your fingers and reach for that spot of warmth hidden in your chest. It reaches out, settles around your bones, through your veins until your fingernails glow. Bucky glances down, his lips quirk up, and then his eyes settle on yours. His pupils are wide with adrenaline, and he’s looking at you so intently your breath catches in your throat. Your fingertips are white-hot now, casting an eerie light from below.

He looks all the more terrible and wonderful for it.

“Ready?” he murmurs.

Your focus rams back into place. It’s just your mission lead, just Bucky. And there’s bigger fish to fry right now than the dark sky in his eyes.

“Ready.”

Bucky tilts his head towards the fused hinges on one side of the door. You press your hands against the top one, and the rusty metal begins to glow. Red drops of molten iron slide down catch on the wood, which begins to smoke. Licks of fire sprout from the jamb, and you hop back, shaking out the sparks from your fingertips.

Bucky maneuvers ahead of you and kicks the door open, wood splintering at the bottom, his left arm up. Twin shouts of surprise, two quick gunshots, and the door shudders from the impact.

“Get the other one!” Bucky snaps, pulling the bust-open door back into place as shouting begins in earnest.

You dash to the other door. Bullets pepper the door, but the wood is thick enough to contain them—for now. Something niggles at the back of your mind, but you push it away. Of course something’s wrong. But now’s the time to act, not think.

The second hinge disintegrates faster; the longer you go, the hotter you get. This is the longest you’ve ever lasted like this on a mission—usually you have guns, tools, equipment… Today you have only yourself.

Sparks fly, settling on your pants, little spots starting to burn away. The glow in your fingertips spreads down to your second knuckle, third knuckle…

Bucky pushes the two doors forward together, driving them forward like a shield wall against the god-knows-how-many people approaching. You stick close, scooping up a handful of gravel and shaping it in your palms. Gunshots ring out, striking the padlocked chain, the doors, the dirt at your feet.

“Get that damn thing on!” someone shouts.

A colossal hum groans into life, flooding your ears as you lose all sense of feeling. Bucky cries out, digs in his heels as he left arm shoots forward, but you’re a million miles away as the doors fall away from you and clatter to the ground. Dust clouds in the air as you realize that the molten rocks in your hands have dripped through your fingers, burning your shoes away. You step back, hands shaking, suddenly cold as the warmth in your chest fizzles out.

Then you run.

Gravel bites into your bare feet and makes way for tough grass. But there’s rocks here too, hidden ones, and within seconds you stumble, a sharp rock tearing a gash in the pad of your foot. Still you run, eyes burning more than your hands had been, ice settling fresh in your veins as footsteps pound behind you, harsh breathing that isn’t yours whistling in your ears.

A grunt, and someone’s hand brushes your arm. You gasp, air slicing against your screaming lungs, and pump your legs harder, harder—

“Augh!”

A hand catches your elbow, yanking your shoulder, yanking your whole body to the side as you keep going, heartbeat frantic, brain screaming, eyes barely seeing except to realize that this is the first you’ve seen again, and it’s just like you remembered, oh god, oh god; you pull your arm against the tight grip, but there’s no breaking free, the grip is too strong. You manage to get a few steps farther, dragging your assailant with you, but he digs in his heels.

Like Bucky dug in his heels.

Your eyes swivel in your head back to the barn, back to where Bucky is still fighting against some machine aimed at him, making waves in the air as it pulls at his left arm. Even from a distance, you can see he’s confused despite his bared teeth and furor. He glances your way, and the fresh strangeness in his expression takes you off-guard.

The other one who’d been chasing you grabs you, catching your other hand.

“Gotcha,” he grunts, breathless and gleeful.

You can’t take your eyes from Bucky. He’s looking at you more now. The tears pricking at your eyes make it impossible to read what he’s thinking, but you know.

The first one knees you in the gut; you fall to your knees, eyes watering afresh and nausea tickling the back of your mouth.

You know what Bucky is thinking. You’re just a firecracker. You’re useless. You’re a party trick—

You surge back to your feet, hand curling into a fist as you drive your knuckles into the first one’s neck. They choke, eyes blown wide and hand instinctively dropping from your elbow to clutch their throat. You swing your other arm, ready to drive it into their gut, but the second one catches your wrist, twisting your arm up behind you. You scream in pain—your pulled shoulder is useless now—and make to get out of their hold, but you’re caught, and someone else has come along now, and they kick you facedown into the grass. Still you persist, wriggling and kicking and trying to force yourself to your feet, to your knees, onto your back—to anything other than in the grass, blades prickling against your cheeks and mouth and nose.

God knows how, but you manage to twist over and drive your foot into someone’s crotch. They squeal and hobble back, and you grit your teeth through the pain and push yourself up before someone drives a foot into your stomach again, slamming you back onto the ground.

“Stay down!”

It’s the second man, the one who’d pulled your shoulder. He steps heavy on your chest until your bones creak, and you scream from the pressure, the pain.

“Stop, you idiot!”

You freeze. Your scream dies in your throat. The man lifts his foot away, and even through your tears you can see his scowl.

That voice—

No. No.

No.

You curl your fingers into the grass. It’s alive in your hands. Something alive, that thinks no ill of you, that wants nothing from you, something green and alive and you are not going to let them take you again.

With a cry, you push yourself up and launch yourself at the man who’d held you down. Your punch to his jaw sends him reeling. There’s nothing left of the warmth from in the barn in your chest, but you reach for it anyway, desperate, as you dash towards the man whose voice you never want to hear again.

He’s holding a gun, pointed loosely at you, his suit clean as ever and his hair as short. His eyebrows are raised, as if he’s surprised, but you don’t care, you don’t care, all you want is to break is neck and never let him speak another word as long as he—

Crack.

White-hot pain lances through your hip as he shoots, but you keep going until you’re on top of him and he’s in the dirt and your hands are around his neck and you’re squeezing and then your hands are on empty air as that idiot pulls you off.

You stumble a few feet away. There’s no warmth for you to pull at, but sparks shoot intermittently from your fingers as you snarl, blood pulsing at your hip. The idiot has a cattle prod in his hands, and he’s thrusting it at you, the buzz sending shocks through you long before it touches you.

The boss, on his knees, lurches forward towards the two of you, his eyes comically wide.

“Don’t—”

The cattle prod hits you.

White.

All you can see is white.

White fire burns in your veins, under your skin, burning searing screaming—

—

White fire flares out from where you’re caught between a bunch of the goons. Something explodes. For a moment, the whole area is flooded with white, turning the world into static. Bucky’s heart stutters—he can’t see you, where are you, what have they done to you?

A wave of heat hits him with such intensity that he shouts, his arms automatically flinging up as protection. The world goes white; something clatters nearby.

Arms? Arms?

Yes, both arms. What happened to the electromagnet? Was it the heat?

Whatever it was, he’s free. He lurches towards where the electromagnet had been, teeth gritted against the pain of the heat in the air. He can hear frightened breathing, swearing—fuck fuck fuck fuck fu—and he pounces, landing awkwardly on someone’s shoulder, but not so awkwardly that he doesn’t knock them unconscious before they can land a single blow. He stumbles off of them, ears cocked for any other noises, any other sounds, but all he hears are footsteps running haphazardly away.

They’ll get found, eventually. Right now, he can’t leave. Not without knowing what’s happened to you.

Bucky’s vision clears slowly. It’s still uncomfortably hot—sweat beads on his forehead, on his neck—but there’s a slow breeze. There’s a column of smoke to his right, where you’d run off to, and he slowly moves in that direction as he blinks away the whiteness from his eyes.

Every step forward, the heat intensifies. There’s no more grass, just dirt, with black smoke spiraling up from the bare ground. Sweat drips down the hollow of his back, catches in his eyebrows—he shakes his head, teeth bared, and forces himself forward.

What the hell happened?

Had they come for him, or you? Why would they have come for you? Whatever he thinks of you personally, your powers have never seemed that extraordinary to him. Your work at the barn, turning wrought-iron hinges into molten metal in seconds—that’s the most impressive thing he’s seen out of you to date.

Whatever had happened, the white fire and the horrible heat and the whole world gone white—that can’t have been you. But you can’t be burned, can you? Whatever it was, it can’t have hurt you.

Could it have?

He breaks into a run, squinting. A shadow on the ground catches his eye.

Bucky freezes in his tracks.

A corpse, burnt nearly to the bone. Red-hot metal pools under its pelvis—a belt buckle? A gun? No, that’s the gun there, with the extra charring on the ground. Is that what had exploded earlier? Must be.

Bucky’s mind fast-tracks past the corpse. If this is what had happened to someone else…

He steps over a charred, skeletal foot, his heart in his throat as he squints against the hot smoky air.

If that’s what happened to someone else, how could you have survived?

Bucky’s eyes water more than ever as he walks faster. “No no no,” he mutters. “That’s not…”

Another charred corpse, this one truly burnt to the bone, tendons just barely holding it together. Tears track down Bucky’s cheeks as his eyes run from the long foot up the leg, over the hipbones—

A bare foot is caught in the ribcage. A skull cradled against a bare hip, scraps of charring fabric caught in the sockets. One hand, full and alive and covered in soot, flung across your belly.

Bucky falls to his knees and crawls forward until a tear falls onto your sooty skin. Your face is turned away from him. His hands quiver as he reaches for you—for the first time, he realizes the smokescreen has died—and touches your shoulder, the back of your hand. You’re still, too still, and your skin is cold to the touch. He can hear your heartbeat, but it’s faint as a whisper and slower than molasses. There’s no sound of breathing.

“Breathe, dammit,” he mouths.

He nudges you, presses down on the hand over your belly, trying to force some movement in your lungs.

Nothing.

He takes your face in his hands; they’re shaking more than ever. He turns your head towards him, crying outright now.

“Please,” he breathes. He shifts his knees until he can bend his face inches from yours. If he has to get you to breathe by giving you breath himself, by god he’ll do it, he’ll do it a hundred times, a million, because you can’t be dead here on the ground, you can’t be, he won’t let you.

Bucky sucks in a breath, the smoky air stinging his lungs, but before he can pinch your nose shut, you shift, groan, and turn your head just enough so he can see your lips parting and a tear tracking down your cheek.

Relief washes over him like a tidal wave. For a moment, all he can do is close his eyes and press his forehead to yours. Your skin is still cold, but you’re not dead. You’re not dead. You’re alive. You’re alive, and you’re going to be okay. He’ll make damn sure of it.

One last shaky breath, and Bucky sits up on his heels. He shucks off his coat, tucks it around you, and hoists you into his arms. The skull rolls to the ground. He has to work the ribcage away from your foot with his own hand, but then he’s taking you away, back to the burning barn, away from… He glances back. It looks like a bomb has gone off. It looks…

It looks…

It looks like something he’s seen before.

Bucky’s steps slow as he stares down at the top of your head.

He’s seen this before.

The white blast. The scorched earth. The charred corpses.

He’s seen it in South Africa, in China, in Ukraine, in Venezuela. Terrorism attacks, with tenuous links aside from the identical carnage.

Monthly attacks that ended… the same month you joined the team.

It’s only habit that keeps him walking now. Force of habit, and how cold your skin is, and something past thought that has his throat clogged with horror. But he can’t drop you, no matter what conclusions his brain is coming to now.

The air is clearer here. The barn is on fire now, whether from your handiwork earlier or… or just now, he couldn’t say. But the breeze is blowing the smoke away. One of the three cars is missing—some of them must have fled, but someone will find them. Someone.

There’s an SUV with open doors. Bucky settles you in the passenger seat, careful to tuck his jacket around you properly as your head lolls. When you come to, there will be enough to explain.

There has to be an explanation.

There has to be.

Bucky pulls out his phone. Sam’s on speed-dial.

Sam’s voice, when he answers, is answer enough.

—

It’s cold.

The air is warm, but you’re cold, so cold. Like your heart is ice. You squeeze your closed eyes shut further and reach for that spot of warmth in your chest.

It’s not there.

You whimper, try again.

Nothing.

You’ve wrung yourself dry.

How—

Your faces twitches as you try to remember. All you remember is white, the static of whiteness.

Whiteness…

Your eyes pop open as you suck in a harsh, smoky breath, every muscle taut and shaking as you stare at the burning barn through—through a windshield? You’re in a car? Your heart pounds out of your chest. Did they put you in a car to take you away?

The door to your right is open; you lurch out of your seat and land on your bare knees in the gravel, one hand clutching the open door for support. You stagger to your feet. There’s no warmth in your chest and no strength in your bones, but you force yourself away, away, away—

A hand touches you, and you scream, flailing blindly until your wrist is caught.

“Hey hey hey, careful,” a soft voice says. Another hand settles on your waist, the hand on your wrist shifts until it’s holding yours, and it’s then that your eyes refocus on—

Bucky.

His eyes are wide, fixed on your face. You blink. His face is sooty, but there are clear tracks running down his cheeks. Was he—was he crying?

“You okay?” he asks.

His voice is still soft, still gentle. His eyes are still fixed on your face.

Whiteness…

“I—I don’t know,” you stammer. You put your free hand on Bucky’s arm, head swimming. The gravel bites into your feet, and you wince.

Your shoes must have burned away. Your shoes, and—

A strangled breath escapes your throat as you realize. Your shoes burned away, your shoes and your clothes. You’re wearing Bucky’s jacket, but it falls only just past your hips.

God, what did he see? You stare at him again, only more confused than before. What happened?

Whiteness.

You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide.

You remember it all now, as starkly as if it was happening all over again. The run, the struggle, the gunshot, the cattle prod.

The whiteness.

“Did I—did—what—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky whispers. He gently wraps an arm around you and tucks you against his chest. “You’re okay. Sam is coming.”

Your hands wind into Bucky’s shirt, tugging it tight. You stare down at your bare feet as tears roll down your cheeks. Your left foot stings; are you bleeding? You shift your foot; yes, there’s blood on the gravel where you’d been standing. Your hip is less painful than you’d’ve expected, and you flex a muscle there experimentally. Something pulls at your skin—had Bucky patched you up? He must have.

Bucky.

What does he know?

“What…” You swallow. “What happened?”

“They set you off,” Bucky says.

You let out a slow breath. So he knows. You disentangle yourself from his hold and limp to the car; Bucky helps you along, and back up into the passenger seat. “Oh.” You turn away and look at the bottom of your foot, wincing. Yes, still bleeding.

“‘Oh?’” Bucky repeats incredulously.

You turn back to him, eyebrows raised. Bucky’s hands are wide open at his sides, as though he’s struggling to keep them from curling into fists.

“Why did no one tell me about this?” His voice is low, tinged with frustration. “Why didn’t I know?”

“Only Sam knows. Knew,” you correct. “He’s the one—”

“Who got you out,” Bucky finishes. He leans against the car, boxing you in. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I have told you?” you ask, voice flat.

Bucky stares, mouth open, argument flashing in his eyes. You lean your head back and close your eyes. You’re still groggy and cold and tired, and there’s no way out with Bucky standing so close. All you can do is answer him.

“Forget why, when?” you continue weakly. “We’ve never been particularly friendly.”

“I can’t help being shy, can I?” Bucky snaps.

“Yes you can.” Your chin drops a little; your eyes are still closed. “I did my best, to try and make friends with you. I thought… it’d be good for me. Have someone who knows what I went through.”

“I didn’t know,” he says. He’s not snapping now. He’s quiet, almost plaintive. “I wish I had. I wish Sam had told me. I wish…” He trails off, sighs.

You peek open an eye. Bucky leans on his arm against the open car door jamb, eyes closed, face downcast. He looks… he looks like he’s more weighted down than you are.

A little warmth flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s real or just a hope.

You reach out and put a hand on his face. His skin is warm to the touch, as it always is. Bucky’s eyes pop open and he looks at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide and blue.

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “And I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair not to tell you. Not… not when we were supposed to have each other’s backs.”

“I’ve got your back no matter what,” Bucky declares, and the warmth in your chest coils and warms you straight down to your fingertips.

There aren’t words for what you’re feeling. All you can do is crane your neck and press a kiss to his sooty cheek and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek again.

Bucky shudders in your hold, and it’s all you can do not to cry as he wraps an arm gently around you.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “And I’m not letting go.”

#hbc secret seba #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

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thebestpersonherelovesbucky · 4 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes Twice

Summary: Ten years ago, Steve Rogers made the mistake of letting go of the love of his life, Bucky Barnes.

Today, Bucky is getting remarried.

Steve is just gonna have to deal with that because lightning never strikes the same place twice.

Everyone knows that.

((essentially just a reworking of the ending of that movie Sweet Home Alabama))

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1.6k

Tags: past relationship, fluff, marriage

written for @captain-rogers-beard‘s Flex Your Writing Muscles Challenge.

Prompt:

Thunder claps overhead. Off in the distance, lightning scatters through the clouds. Steve walks along the shoreline, kicking up sand with each step. Under his arms, he carries a few more lightning rods. He’s already shoved a few into the ground. He wonders briefly about the wedding and immediately tries to push the thought out of his mind. The love of his life is marrying someone else tonight and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Well, no. There is one thing he can do. He can be happy for Bucky. Steve loves him and has loved him since they were a couple’ve kids running around the streets of Brooklyn getting into trouble. All he wants is Bucky’s happiness. Even if that means he’s found it with another person. Steve can be happy for him.

And he will be. He just...needs a little time.

It’s just hard when he remembers everything. Every kiss. Every fight. Every time they said they’d love each other to the end of the line. Steve even remembers when they were ten-years-old and walked along this very same beach to watch the storm clouds roll in and Steve first proposed the idea of marriage.

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk?” Bucky had laughed. “I’m only ten-years-old. I’m gonna see the world! Travel! Learn about everything! I can’t do that with a husband.”

“Why not, jerk?” Steve asked. “What’s so wrong with bein’ married?”

“Nothin’.” Bucky shrugged. “But you want roots and I want wings!”

Bucky held his arms out and his head back, and just as he started spinning around in a circle, it began to pour. Big, thick drops of water dropping down on them in an instant.

They shrieked and laughed and opened their mouths to catch the rain with their tongues. They held hands to dance and tumbled all over each other. They let loose a blood-curling scream when lightning struck just a few yards away from them.

Steve turned to run back the way they came, but Bucky grabbed onto his wrist to pull him where the sand had been hit.

“Not that way! This way!”

“Why?!”

“Because lightning never strikes the same place twice!” he yelled back. “Everyone knows that!”

When they reached the smoking spot on the beach, they were shocked to discover what the lightning left behind. It looked like glass. Smooth and iridescent.

Without thinking, Steve reached out to touch it, but Bucky made sure that he didn’t.

“Don’t touch it, dummy, it’s hot.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno.” Bucky looked at him with a smile. “Why would you wanna marry me anyway?”

Steve glanced into those steel-blue eyes. Like glaciers. Not cold, but sparking and filled with hidden depths. And he only had one answer.

“So I can kiss you any time I want.”

Those eyes widened and brightened with a smile, and Steve, smaller than him then, wrapped his arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips.

They found out later that the lightning hitting the sand just right caused fulgurite. Steve’s made a living out of collecting it and turning it into glass sculptures while Bucky found his calling across the country as an author.

Steve has all of his books. Romances mostly. Space adventures and magic and love in all its beautiful forms.

Steve had been heartbroken when Bucky left for California ten years ago to pursue an education in creative writing. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault even though Steve tried like hell to blame him. Bucky asked Steve to go with him after he’d been offered a coveted writer’s fellowship to the University of Southern California. Steve, stubborn to the core, told him New York was their home.

He knew immediately that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life when he came home to an empty apartment. Steve even went out there once about a month after he left to try to win him back. To convince him to come home with him.

When Steve got there with flowers and ready to declare his love for him, he happened to see Bucky coming out of his new building, he stumbled to a halt. Bucky looked amazing. Brilliant and beautiful as his eyes fell closed and he smiled up at the bright, sunny sky.

There Bucky was. Wings spread and soaring. And Steve couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to try to clip those amazing wings and have him crash to the ground just because Steve wanted to be his husband. Bucky deserved better.

So Steve went back home to New York, signed the divorce papers so that Bucky could fly without him, and started his art studio. Wanted to make something of himself so maybe he could win Bucky’s love again.

What he hadn’t expected was Bucky showing up about thirty days ago engaged to someone else. Almost as though he was seeking his permission. Or blessing. Or...Steve’s not sure.

But seeing him after all these years, after the initial awkwardness, felt as though not a day had gone by. They laughed. They teased each other. They caught up. All the while Bucky and his family here in New York made the final plans for his wedding.

Bucky even stopped by the other day with an invitation. A part of Steve wants to follow his mother’s advice and go to the wedding. But Steve thought the ex-husband at the new wedding would be a little weird. Not to mention heartbreaking. Sure, their marriage right out of high school didn’t even last the full summer, but still. Weird.

Those dark clouds are rolling in faster now and the next thunderclap brings with it a downpour. Well, at least the world can cry with him.

Steve chuckles darkly at his ridiculous thoughts and wipes those few tears away with the back of his arm as he works another lightning rod into the sand. He made his biggest mistake. Now he has to live with his biggest regret.

“Hey!”

The shout from behind him, just loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain and rumbling skies, startles Steve. He turns. Sees Bucky standing there, wearing a tux, no shoes, and sopping wet. Water drips off the ends of his hair, which, up until a few moments ago was probably styled beautifully. Doesn’t matter that he’s soaked to the bone and in a ruined tuxedo. He still looks gorgeous.

For a moment, Steve just stares. To be honest, he’s not entirely sure he’s not imagining this.

“Bucky?”

“I got somethin’ to say to you, punk.”

“What’re you doin’ here?!” Steve calls back over all the noise. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding?”

“Yes! Yes, I was!” Bucky sounds angry. He looks angry, too, but Steve isn’t sure what he did this time. “I was supposed to get married!”

“Did...did you...not get married?”

“No! No, I didn’t get married!” He huffs and shakes his head. “I didn’t get married because the person I’m in love with wasn’t there!”

Steve’s heart skips a beat. He knows he fucked up, but he can’t imagine someone else making the same mistake he did. How could anyone ever let him go?

“Were you...left at the altar?”

“Oh, no. No, they were there. But you weren’t! You weren’t there, Steve!” He stomps his foot and growls through his teeth. “Why didn’t you come after me?” Bucky steps up and punches Steve once in the arm. Hard. And then does it again and again. “I waited for you, Steve! I waited ten years and you never came!”

“I...I did...” Steve tries to say as he cringes away from Bucky’s anger which hurts a hell of a lot more than any of his punches. “I came after you, Bucky, I swear!”

Bucky takes a breath, a step back, and wipes his face of some of the water dripping down it.

“You...you did?”

Steve nods. “I did. About a month after you left. But I saw how happy you looked and I...I couldn’t ask you to give that up. A-and, I thought that if you flew, then you’d fly away from me. But I also didn’t want to be a stone around your neck. Bucky, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you go without a fight. I”m sorry I didn’t go with you. I--”

“Steve...” Bucky reaches out and touches Steve’s cheek. “You were never a stone around my neck. I thought spreading my wings meant that I couldn’t keep my roots. But when I saw you here again and...I realized that I can have my wings and my roots. I want you to be there when I land. Just like I wanted you to be there when I flew. Because I love you, Steve.”

The glands in Steve’s throat swell. He thinks he might burst into tears. If Bucky’s really saying what he thinks is...

“I...I love you, too, Bucky. But...what if we had our shot already?” he asks. “You said it yourself, lightning never strikes the same place twice.”

This makes Bucky smiles with a shake of his head.

“You silly punk,” he says. “It already struck. I wanna marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

Heart growing beneath his ribs, Steve can’t help but grin wildly at that. At Bucky saying he left his own wedding, tracked Steve down to their spot on the beach, and came out in the pouring rain just to tell him he loves him.

“Why would you wanna be married to me, Bucky?”

Bucky’s smile makes his eyes sparkle brighter than any stars hiding behind the storm clouds.

“So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

An elated giggle bubbles through Steve’s chest as Bucky flings his arms around his neck and they kiss, and when their own lightning strikes, something beautiful is created all around them.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #marvel #flex your writing muscles challenge #kellsficlet #marvel fic

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miss-smutty · 5 years

Text

Fifty Shades of Billy Part 4

A/N- So this turned out to be the longest part yet. Some drama to come in the next part and maybe abit of angst and obviously some good ol' smut 😋

Strictly 18+ only

Summary- You confront Billy about the way he's been acting. Will it end in your favour?

Pairing- Billy Hargrove X You

Word count- 3.5K

Warnings- Swearing, smut

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Posted: 16th August 2019

As you sit back in your chair, you can still see Billy out of the corner of your eye. Billy's face screwed up with displeasure, the muscles in his face twitching with anger. Ok, maybe you went too far. Seeing Billy look like that was terrifying, it was like someone had flipped a switch and the red glow of anger had fallen upon him.

This could turn out bad. Very bad, You thought in regret.

You were adding fuel to a fire that already burnt deep within Billy, but to be fair he has ignored you all day. That justifies it, right?

Billy couldn't stand watching you with your hands all over Steve, it stirred something inside him. He could feel the anger bubbling while somewhere in the distance he could vaguely hear the annoying tone of Sally's voice.

"Can you shut the fuck up for just one minute Sally?" He hissed, glaring angrily at her. She must have seen something in Billy that she didn't like because she got up from her chair and stormed off, muttering under her breath, leaving Billy sat alone with his thoughts.

There's a difference between wanting her and not wanting anyone else to want her. That's the only reason I'm feeling like this, I mean it's got to be the only reason - or so Billy told himself.

You watched as Sally hastily walked away from Billy, wondering what made her leave so quickly. Your heart rate began to quicken as Billy roughly pushed his chair back from the table. This is not good. You tried to get Max's attention, you were panicking now, Billy was on his way over to your table and the way he was scowling at Steve was concerning. I've massively fucked up here, what the hell is he going to do to Steve?

Steve's eyes widen as he notices your nervous expression, his eyebrow cocks questioningly but before you can say anything Steve jerks forwards from his chair. He gets up hastily from your lap where he'd fallen, both of you blushing from the intamacy.

"What the fuck Hargrove?" Steve says angrily, pushing Billy hard in the chest. Billy hardly flinched but gritted his teeth and squared up to Steve so there noses were almost touching.

"Watch where you're going Harrington" Billy spat through gritted teeth. Billy's aggression was frightening but you have to admit it was pretty damn hot watching two boys almost fight over you. You were definitely in a trance watching Billy's muscles flex with tension, surprised there wasn't drool protruding from your mouth as you finally snapped out of it.

Standing on your chair so you could match their heights, you pushed them apart, your tiny frame not enough to take their weight.

"Max! Help me out will you?" You screamed, worried that someone was going to swing and end up clocking you in the face.

Max rolled her eyes before standing up and grabbing hold of Billy's arm.

"My bets were on Steve anyway" she says snidely while you pull Steve away.

Billy let out a belly laugh, I mean he actually held on to his stomach while he bent over laughing. The rest of you just stared at Billy's outburst, confused at what he found so funny in a situation like this.

"I'll see you on the court Harrington" he says after finally regaining his composure.

You could feel eyes burning into you, the whole lunch hall had turned to watch Billy and Steve arguing. They were probably hoping for a fight and when they knew they weren't getting what they wanted, they turned back to continue their gossiping.

Steve tried his best to appear cool and unshaken, even though Billy's attack was totally unprovoked and out of the blue. Well to Steve it was, you couldn't help feeling guilty for being the instigator. If they couldn't read it all over my face then they definitely didn't need to know either. Steve smoothed his hair back from his face and patted down his trousers, taking him back to his usual well kept appearance.

"What just happened? What's his problem Max?" Steve asked while still trying to look cool and leaning on the chair with one hand while the other was bent on his hip.

"Hmm well I think you talking to Y/N probably had something to do with it but who knows" she shrugged at Steve while raising her eyebrows at you. She knows. Of course she knows. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say to either of them.

"Oh. I didn't know you had a thing with Hargrove? Why would you go for a loser like that?" He turned to you actually waiting for an answer.

"I don't have a thing with him and maybe there's more to him than you actually know" you say defensively while walking away, ok more like stropping. You couldn't stand the tension anymore and had to get out of there as fast as you could. Weaving your way around the tables and chairs, your eyes becoming blurry with tears making you trip over a chair leg and fall on to the floor. Some people were staring and some were laughing, the walls were closing in on you. You ran from the lunch hall, stopping in the corridor to catch your breath, hugging your body tightly.

***************

The benches were almost full with people talking amongst themselves, you could feel the excitement in the air. You stood by the gym door searching for somewhere to sit when you see a hand waving from the crowd. Realising it was Max and she'd saved you a front row seat, you rush over to her.

"Thanks for saving me a seat, did you have to fight bitches to get front row?" You laugh.

"Perks of being family" she shrugs and joins in with your laughing.

Everybody starts cheering as the boys make their way out of the changing rooms and onto the court. You notice Billy straight away, along with all the other girls in the room, his curls bouncing as he runs onto the court. He winks at you as he runs past and you can feel eyes digging into your back, mentally cursing you for being Billy's object of attraction. Max gently elbowed you in the ribs so you'd notice Billy winking at you, like you hadn't already noticed, you couldn't take your eyes off his tanned and ridiculously toned thighs. You imagined yourself grinding on his lap, his lusciously toned legs holding your weight as he gripped onto your ass. You were blushing now and Billy was watching you amusingly, mentally undressing him and imagining yourself and him in all sorts of positions. You were noticeably turned on in a crowd full of people, you knew it, Billy knew it and probably anyone else who was paying attention.

Billy was enjoying watching you squirm, he bent over in front of you to mess with his shoes. His tight, clenched ass cheeks right in front of you, you could hear the swoons from girls behind you. You rolled your eyes at how predictable Billy was. Knowing everyone was watching him, he was putting on a show, or was the show just for you?

When all the team were finally on the court, the whistle was blown to start the game and of course Billy was on the no shirts team with Steve on the rival team. Watching the boys move across the court, ok not watching the boys but watching the way Billy's thighs flexed as he ran all over the court. Mesmerized. Seriously surprised you weren't drooling by now. You finally looked up from Billy's legs and saw him and Steve fighting for the ball, barging into each other and winding their legs around each other. Ridiculously proud of yourself for still not drooling over Billy's testosterone fuelled need to get one over on Steve, his alpha male need to be the winner.

"I heard you used to run this school, is that true? King Steve they used to call you huh? Then you turned bitch" Billy hissed into Steves ear, still bumping chests for the ball.

"Hey maybe you should just shut up and play the game" Steve replied, clearly flustered.

Billy puts his foot Infront of Steve so he tripped over and onto the floor, leaving the ball for Billy. He runs towards the hoop with the ball, you can't help but feel excited from the adrenaline running through you as Billy jumps up, passes the ball under his delicious thigh and shoots a hoop. The crowd go wild with cheers as Billy cockily struts around the court, Steve still on the floor looking extremely annoyed.

As the whistle is blown again to signal the end of the game, a group of girls from behind make their way down to the court and make a beeline straight for Billy. He laps it up, loving the attention and completely forgotten about you again as he drapes his arm around another girl. You can feel the anger building inside you again like what the hell was this guy playing at, all these games he's playing are driving me insane you thought.

The boys all head to the changing rooms to get showered and the gym gradually empties.

"You coming Y/N?" Max asked while standing up.

"I think I'll hang back a bit, meet you at the mall later?" Looking sheepishly at your feet.

"Erm ok. Catch you later" she says furrowing her brow in confusion.

A couple of girls hang by the door of the gym, looking over at you and turning back to each other to whisper. You raise your eyebrows and stare straight back at them until they get the picture and move away.

You continue watching the guys steadily leave the changing room but still no sign of Billy. You were wanting to confront him and ask him out right what was going on, hoping you weren't going to look desperate waiting for him outside the changing rooms.

Steve was next out and he spotted you straight away but instead of coming over, like he usually would, he waved his hand away at you and walked away. Ok so I've really pissed Steve off, how did I get into this mess? You thought as you realised you'd counted eleven of the guys who'd left the changing room, meaning Billy was the last one out.

Now you were nervous, your words were a jumble in your head, you had no idea what you were going to say to him. You'd ran the conversation over and over in your head while you were sat waiting but you'd completely forgotten now it was time. Am I sweating? Oh god this is a bad idea. You took in some deep breaths to calm your nerves but couldn't stand sitting and waiting any longer. Right. You've got this girl, go get him.

Your legs buckled as you stood from the benches, your legs and ass were numb from sitting on the uncomfortable wooden blocks for way too long. Your heart was beating too fast and your hands were trembling as you approached the double doors of the boys changing rooms.

You opened the door just a crack and moved your head into the gap.

"Billy?" You shouted, hoping he would come out to you so you didn't have to go into the sweaty room. No such luck. There was no answer.

You slowly entered the changing room into a small corridor, there was a room on the left and a room straight ahead. You took the left, there was a square of lockers and right in the middle were some benches. You walked towards the benches, slowly, worried someone would catch you in the boys changing room. Billy was there with his back to you, in only a towel, hung low on his waist. You stopped to admire the muscles in his back as he leant one hand on the lockers and closed his locker with the other. The echo of the locker door closing, bounced off the walls and startled you.

You cleared your throat to get his attention and when he turned around, your eyes were immediately drawn to the line of hair that ran from his navel to where the towel hung low on his groin. Dangerously loose.

"Is that drool?" He teased.

"What no, where?" You panic desperately patting at your mouth.

He walks over to with an amused smile on his face and runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you" as he leans down over you, making you feel like his prey.

"So what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"I... I" deep breath, I need sassy me to handle this. "Ive been in worse places than this Billy" you squeeze past him so your not backed into the corner anymore. Your bodies pressed together tightly as you manoeuvre around him and sit down on the bench Infront of him, his groin now eye level.

"So you just thought you'd sneak into the changing rooms for some hanky panky?" He says cockily, lifting his eyebrow.

"Ha you wish. I came here so you can tell me what the fuck you think you're playing at" you say, raising your eyebrows.

"Well I was just going to jump in the shower but if you have other plans I..."

"You kiss me and then completely ignore me and when you see me talking to Steve you come over and start a fight?" You get up from the bench, being so close to his crotch was definitely not helping you.

"You can do so much better than Steve" he replies, his cockiness slipping just a tad.

"What, like you?" You spat, slightly more venomously than you planned. You saw the hurt flash across Billy's face, like you'd just slapped him in the mouth. His cockiness making you forget all about his insecurities for just a second.

You reached up to cup Billy's face and he flinched at your touch, breaking your heart for hurting him. You saw the small boy in Billy again but it wasn't caused by Niel this time. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean that. Honestly, do you think I'd be here now if I didn't want you?" You pulled Billy down into an embrace, sitting back on to the bench so you could reach him, his head resting on your shoulder as you stroked back his hair. Billy stands back up, facing the locker, hiding from you so you couldn't see him while he regained his composure.

When he turns back around, cocky Billy was back, which I suppose was better than sad Billy.

"It's kind of not fair, I'm at a disadvantage stood here half naked" that hungry look in his eyes again as he licked his lips. You'd come to realise that Billy used sex as a coping mechanism and you were happy to oblige.

"Oh, how can I make you feel more comfortable?" You smiled coyly, looking at Billy through your eyelashes. You'd completely forgotten you were mad at him, that hungry look in Billy's eyes filling you with desire.

"Well, let's start off on even playing fields first" he teased, pushing you up against the lockers and leaning down to nibble your ear. The feel of Billy's teeth tickling your ear made you giggle and squirm underneath him. As he lifted your top over your head, the feel of the cold lockers against your bare skin made you squeel.

"Shh Baby, someone will hear" Billy whispers into your ear. Hearing him calling you baby made you want him even more. Pulling him close by the front of his towel, grazing his dick with your fingers, you leant in for a kiss. Starting out gentle and gradually becoming more rough, your tongues desperately searching for each other, teeth gripping on tightly to lips.

Billy admires your full breasts, using his hands to grope and pinch them making your knees weak

"You know we're still not equal?" He said lifting one eyebrow and kneeling on the ground. He grabs the hem of your shorts and slowly peels them down, just like he was opening a present, a look of excitement planted on his face. Thank god I wore my good underwear you smiled to yourself.

He licked his lips as he saw your red, lace, french panties and looked up to you with a devilish grin.

Pushing you back onto the bench and kneeling in front of you, he rolled your panties down to your ankles. Lifting your leg up to his shoulder height he slowly pulled your panties off your foot and then spread your legs wide.

"Mmm I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you in the parking lot" he smirked making you blush.

Billy holds your thighs up, making you lay back onto the benches, so he can fully eat you out. He uses the tip of his tongue to tickle your clit, making you wriggle, the bench underneath you digging into your back.

Billy makes his tongue fat and licks all the way up your wet slit, circling your clit every now and then with the tip. You lean on your elbows so you can watch him eating your pussy, the excitement in his eyes as he tongue fucks you.

"You taste so fucking good" he says into your crotch, the vibrations of his breath making you weak. He inserts two fingers into your opening while he continued teasing your clit with his tongue. Pushing harder on it until your grasping for his hair, pressing him down harder.

"Oh my fucking god Billy, I'm gonna come" you shriek, he pushes another finger deep inside you until he hits your spot, massaging it until he feels the warmth of your come all over his fingers. "Fuck!"

Billy pulls away from you, looking overly pleased with himself as he pulls you up from the bench. Your knees buckle a little when you stand but Billy holds on to you.

You stroll off towards the showers, naked, leaving Billy stood there mouth wide in shock. You look back over your shoulder coyly.

"You coming or what?" You tease.

He looks like a dog with a bone as he practically runs after you, dropping his towel as he goes. Your faced with his massive cock for the first time leaving you with your mouth wide open in shock at the size and girth.

"Want me to fill that hole?" He asks leaning against the shower cubicle looking cocky and proud of his dick, knowing you weren't disappointed.

You nod shyly and kneel down on the shower cubicle floor. You take his dick in your hand, running the length of it and teasing the tip. Squeezing his shaft as you pump his cock and teasing everytime you reach the tip. Billy was watching you with admiration at the experienced way you handled his cock. You reach forward to run your tongue up his length and around the tip. You take the tip into your mouth and suck until it literally pops out, your lips smacking together. Billy throws his head back, groaning deeply. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth. You took as much in as you could, sucking hard until your cheeks hurt and you could feel his cock growing until it was rock hard. Billy, still watching you contently, sucking in breath everytime you went down on his dick. One fist on the bottom of his cock, steadying it so you could move your mouth around his cock, circling it as you sucked and pumped with your other hand. Moving back so you could see how hard you'd made him, a drip of precum on the tip. You look into Billy's eyes as you lick his precum with the tip of your tongue, tasting the sweetness in your mouth. His mouth and eyes were wide open with pleasure.

"Fuck me Y/N. You've definitely done this before" he groaned, thrusting his dick further into your mouth until you gagged.

"I hope you know you're going to have to do this all the time now" he laughed as he pulled your hair into a ponytail, holding on as you fucked his dick with your mouth.

Billy lifts you up so your legs wrap around him, he pushes you back against the shower wall and turns on the water. Thrusting his rock hard cock into you making you gasp as he his fat cock fills up your tight pussy. You watched the water from the shower drip down Billy's face, turning you on even more while he bit his lip and pounded into you. You dug your nails into his back as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

Billy stopped and listened a minute making you whine.

"Billy don't stop" you said breathlessly.

"Shh I think I just heard someone" he said while slowly and gently thrusting into you. You heard it then, a locker door closing. Shit. You could just see over the top of the cubicle, the unmistakable brunette, fluffy hair.

"Shit, it's Steve" you tell Billy.

"Thats ok then" he says smiling, he puts his hand over your mouth as he carries on fucking you. Enjoying watching you desperately trying to hold in your moans while he thrusts deep inside you. You would think he actually wanted you to be caught the way he was relentlessly pounding into you. You couldn't take it anymore, you were almost there, your muscles clenching as your orgasm built. Billy was licking and biting his bottom lip, looking intensely in your eyes when...

"Hello? Is there someone there" Steve shouted, making his way over to the showers.

TAGLIST- @savagesuccubus @the-marvelatic @camiconfessions @stra-vage @spookybiiiitch @geeksareunique @apocalypticriot @justabeautiful-letdown @cynthianokamaria @aar-journey

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagine #billy/steve #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #fifty shades of billy #smut #x you #stranger things x reader

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ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

penguins {m}

this is.....unedited and also kind of a mess bc i haven’t slept in.....too long, but @honiboyyoon kept sending me yoongi posts and also daddy dom yoongi posts specifically so blame her for this absolute fucking FILTH

a/n: DEFINITE SMUT, choking, daddy kink, spanking, choking, belt spanking, choking (there is seriously so much choking its a little ridic), dirty talk, jealous yoongi,

You legitimately love your boyfriend. Six years together and still, he's perfect. Surprises you with breakfast in bed, buys you little things he sees that he thinks you might like, wakes you up at the ass crack of dawn to drive four hours and take a ferry across the ocean just to go to an aquarium you passingly mentioned you would cut your own leg off to go to. And he's adorable at the aquarium, too, letting you run around with wide eyes and not getting upset when you inevitably lose him in the crowd (even if you did find him glaring at some stingrays because, you quote, "Some of us still remember Steve Irwin, princess. Never forgive, never forget.") He looks utterly ridiculous, and you’re not really sure what about the all-black-with-a-pierced-baseball-cap-and-flannel look gets you hot and bothered, but it does. Maybe you should be ashamed of that, but honestly, Yoongi looks literally edible and you’re not one to question it when your boyfriend looks so good. That doesn’t stop you from teasing him, though - “Seriously, Yoongi, what kind of emo bitch wears that shit in public,” “Clearly I do, princess, now stop running that mouth, didn’t you want to see the seals,” “Fuck, yes, I gotta get a recording so I can play it whenever Seokjin laughs,” - and you’ll never admit how much you like it.

The rest of the time you're there is a delight. Yoongi grumbles about how you might pull his arm out of its socket with how you're dragging him away, but tightens his grip every time you start to pull your hand away. The entire time you can’t help but look at him, watch the way he moves and the grin when he pets a turtle, how he helps a kid pick out a hermit crab and then sends pictures to Joon of them. It’s not lost on you how his eyes linger, either, completely focused on you as you watch the sharks roll above you and beaming when you see the octopus try to steal extra fish from its handler...the way you maybe, just maybe, shake your ass just a little when you bend over to pet an otter. You stay until the aquarium closes and get dinner at a restaurant close by, and it only gets worse.

Yoongi's always been tactile. Even when the two of you were just friends dancing around each other, he would give you hugs and rub your back and let his thigh press against yours without any second thoughts. It's who he is. You know this, you love this, you find it pretty cute most of the time. There are times, though, when it's not...cute.

Like when he leaves his hand, hot and heay, on your upper thigh as he drives to the restaurant so you remember every single time he’s fingered you while going somewhere. Or when he opens the door so you can enter first and lets out a low whistle as you pass him, and when you turn to scold him, his eyes quickly dart back up to your face. Or like when he hooks a foot around the leg of your chair and uses muscles you tend to forget he has to pull you closer. You can see the strength in his thighs as it flexes under his jeans and it makes goosebumps break out across your skin. He doesn't move his leg, keeps it right between your own with his ankle pressed against yours, hooked around your chair, and something about the pose makes you shiver.

"Why aren't you eating, princess?" He asks as he brings a piece of sushi up to his own mouth. You mumble something unintelligible, focused on the way his tongue darts out swipe up a bit of soy sauce before his lips close around the food entirely, pouting as they do. You're torn between the desire to pinch his puffed cheeks and the need to beg him to repeat the action on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the very thought; you always get worked up when Yoongi is sweet to you, it's something all your friends tease you for, and today is the exact opposite of an exception. Taking you four hours and a ferry ride away from home just to take your nerd ass to an aquarium because he knows you'd like it? You're ready to get on your knees and show your appreciation, however he wants for as long as he wants it.

Someone calling your name startles you enough that you jump a little. Turning, you grin when you see a friend from college - fuck if you can remember his name right now, Hyunwoo? Hyungsoo? Hongbin? Whatever it was - waving at you. He’s taller than you remember and when you give him a quick hug you find he’s filled out nicely in the years since you’ve last seen him. Whatever-His-Name-Is looks nothing like the dweeb from your study group anymore, and as you chat with him, he’s clearly still just as nice as he was back then. You even introduce him to Yoongi - and find out his name is fucking Sehun, you must be a dumbass - who looks decidedly less content than he did a few minutes ago. You wave Sehun goodbye when a woman appears and drags him off to their table, but even after you sit back down, Yoongi’s not happy about something.

He’s silent as the grave and you realize at some point during the 5.7 minutes you were talking he’s straightened up and no longer has his legs sprawled about. No, they’re now tucked neatly under his chair, as far on his own side of the table as he can get them. He stabs at a piece of meat, tearing into it much more aggressively than usual, and you narrow your eyes at him.

"Are you okay?" You ask him eventually, after watching him pick up some onion so roughly that the table shook a little. He doesn't answer, just shrugs, and you frown. His irritation isn't lost on you, you're just not sure what you did to cause it. After six years of being together and almost ten of being friends, you know him pretty well, and as you replay the entire day in your mind, you can't find any of the things that usually push him into a mood.

He's still irritated when you both leave the restaurant, one hand gripping the wheel tightly while the other violently switches gears. You wait until he parks at the hotel to try again.

"Yoongi?" You say quietly. "Will you talk to me? I don't know what I did wrong." He huffs and exits the car, and you quickly follow suit. He pulls a suitcase out of the trunk and huffs as he locks the car. He walks quickly through the parking garage, must faster than you're used to, and you rush to keep up. He doesn't say anything as he heads into the lobby, or as he gets the room key, and the silence hangs in the elevator until you can't take it anymore. "Seriously, Yoongi, I don't know why you're mad, I didn't do anything."

He whirls on you with fire in his eyes and it freezes you in place.

"You think that helps?" He growls, closing the distance between the two of you, and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You don't even know how you fucked up, princess. You really have no clue?" You shake your head.

"I really don't," You whisper. He slides a thumb across your bottom lip. Your tongue darts out to wet the skin and he groans almost imperceptibly. The sound makes heat pool between your thighs. He pulls away as the elevator door opens and he strides out. He doesn't wait for you and doesn't slow until he gets to the door with your room number on it.

After it's closed behind you and you're sure it's locked, you turn back to him. He stands in the middle of the room, back to the bed as he strips his jacket off and tosses it to the couch nearby. You wait patiently as he crosses his arms and then turns to you.

"Come here," He commands. You comply immediately. "Do you know what you did yet?" You shake your head, pouting up at him in the hope that it would encourage leniency. He tsks and shakes his head. "Strip. You don't deserve these nice clothes, princess."

You're naked as quick as you can be, clothes strewn about the room in your haste to get them off. He's upset, and you don't know why, but you know better than to make him wait for something when he's like this. You’ve been ready to give it up to him all day, and seeing him in his commanding persona only increases the feeling tenfold. Heat rushes to your core once again and you rub your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of it.

He notices the action immediately, smacking your thigh with his palm. "Look at this," He sighs. "So fucking wet and I haven't even done anything yet. You're such a little slut, always so ready for me." He steps slightly closer, letting his fingers dance along your slit. You don't move and don't make a sound, just let your eyes flutter closed for a brief second. He growls and slaps a hand across your ass.

"Unless it's not for me. Keep your eyes open, slut. I'm the one here right now." You shiver and look at him. He's still fully dressed, which only makes you wetter. He knows you love it, the power dynamic it creates. "Get on the bed, princess. Face me, on your knees."

You do as he says, the bed plump and soft beneath you as you sit back on your knees. Yoongi looks good like this, even with the fire in his eyes, but you're distracted by his hands. The long fingers, the sheer size of them, the way they drag ever so slightly against the leather of his belt as he slides it out from around his waist. You shudder at all of the things he could do with it, and you don’t miss the way he smirks.

“I try to do something nice for you,” He says in a too-controlled voice as he steps closer. “Take you somewhere fun, buy you good food after. I even let you sleep on the way here so you’d be rested for our little adventure. And what do I get in return?” He folds the belt over on itself, and you clench around nothing at the sight. You know what’s coming.

“I’m sorry, thank you, Yoongi, I enjoyed-” You whimper as his belt makes contact with one of your thighs, the sting settling into the skin and turning it pink.

“What did you call me?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I won’t do it again.” His expression softens for just a moment, long fingers rubbing soothing circles over where he hit.

“You know I don’t like punishing you, princess,” He purrs, one hand across your throat for a brief moment so he can stroke his thumb along your cheek. “But I was so good to you today, and then you just…” His jaw tightens and your heart flutters at the sight. You should probably be a little apprehensive, but fuck, he’s so hot. “Bend over.”

You follow his instructions, doing your best not to shiver when he runs a hand over your ass. “You have ten seconds to tell me what you did wrong, princess. If you can’t, you’ll be the one counting to ten.” He starts counting down immediately and your mind scrambles. It couldn’t have been when you accidentally left him behind at the jellyfish, because he was still fine at dinner, and even when you threw a handful of rice at him he laughed so that wasn’t it either, but then maybe-

The sound hits your ears before the pain registers, but you manage a muffled, one, because you know better than to do otherwise. His hand comes up again, rubbing the sting away. The next hit lands on the other cheek, and it’s a feat not to flinch or moan when you call out, two.

It continues, all the way to ten; Yoongi alternates between your cheeks and the backs of your thighs, which is going to make the car ride home an absolute nightmare, but you suppose that’s the point. You’re absolutely dripping by the time you call out a weak ten, your wetness trickling down your inner thigh and your ass and thighs no doubt red and swollen even as he runs his fingers along the skin in soft circles.

“Good, princess?” Yoongi asks quietly. You don’t trust yourself to speak, but you manage what has to be the most enthusiastic nod anyone’s ever given. He chuckles under his breath and metal clinks as his belt hits the bed beside you. He lifts you up to lean against his chest and wipes away the stray tears you couldn’t keep back. “You did so good, baby. You always take your punishments so well for me. Can you tell me what you did to get punished?”

“No, Daddy, I’m sorry, I don’t know, but I won’t do it again, I promise.” Yoongi ‘hmm’s and nods slightly, looking more disappointed than anything.

“That’s okay, princess,” He coos as he turns you around and presses his chest against your back. “We’ll fix that. Don’t move, or I’ll have to punish you again, princess, and you know how much I hate that.” You whimper a little but nod as he steps away. You hold yourself up, back straight and unmoving even as the raw belt marks on your ass rub into your calves. You don’t look behind you, you know better, but you can hear the soft tinkling of metal and the quiet whoosh of something being unfurled.

You’re so curious, so fucking curious about what he’s doing, but you don’t move. If you move, he’s going to spank you again, and while that is such a tempting vision - you, sprawled over his knees this time as his bare palm makes contact with that slap of skin meeting skin as he tells you just how good you are for taking your punishment, fuck, - you mostly just want him inside you, like, right now, because you can basically feel the throbbing heat between your legs and this hotel duvet has to be soaked, and also you’ve been waiting all fucking day.

The heat of Yoongi’s body returns to the space behind you and he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

“I’m gonna have to make sure my princess knows that I’m the only one for her, huh?” You whimper slightly, and you can feel his smile against your skin. “You remember your safeword, baby girl?” You nod, but Yoongi just tuts. “Gotta hear you say it, princess, you know the rules.”

“Penguin.”

“And if you can’t say it?”

“Tap you twice on the thigh.”

“Good girl,” Yoongi whispers into your ear. Your entire body shudders, legs nearly giving out, but a pressure against your neck keeps you up long enough for you to regain your balance. It takes you a second to realize what it is; a quick glance to the bed beside you confirms it. Yoongi has his belt wrapped around your neck, and based on the way it tightens around your throat while the remnants hand from the nape of your neck, he’s got it buckled in place. You stifle another moan.

“Now, princess,” Yoongi purrs, “Who do you belong to?”

“You, always you, Daddy, no one else, ever.”

“That’s fucking right,” He growls. With one hand on your back, he shoves you down until your face is buried in the blanket, the tail of his belt pulled taut and no doubt wrapped around his hand. He doesn’t even finger you first, just thrusts inside you with one move. A choked moan tears itself out of your throat, muffled by the thick blanket underneath you. “I’m the only fucking one allowed near this pussy, you hear me?”

Yoongi’s thrusts aren’t forgiving at all; he’s rough and hard, doesn’t give you any time to get used to the stretch of his dick, just shoves in and out like you’re merely a toy to be used. His free hand has a bruising grip on your hip, your fingers are clawed into the duvet, and all you can think about is how fucking perfect it feels. The burn of the stretch, the way your ass and thighs sting with every thrust, the slight pressure against your windpipe that isn’t enough to choke you but reminds you that you’re at his mercy. It’s as close to heaven as you’re ever going to get, it has to be, because it’s absolutely euphoric.

“Fuck, princess, look at how you take my cock,” Yoongi hisses. His grip tightens on the belt as he pulls, and you’re seeing stars with how utterly fantastic the lack of air is. “Fuck, you always take me so well, you know that? Like you were made for me, just me. Can’t wait to fucking mark you, want everyone to know you’re mine. You gonna be a good girl and let me mark you, princess?”

You nod as best you can, gasping when Yoongi pulls hard on the belt to bring you up against him once more. His pace is unrelenting, hitting every spot inside that he knows you love, teasing your g-spot with each thrust.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, you know that?” His voice is strained and you wish you could see, wish you could watch him fall apart as he fucks you, but god, there is nothing like his voice in your ear, raspy and gravelly because he’s focusing so hard on the way he pistons in and out of you like a goddamn jackhammer. “So fucking wet and ready for me all the time, baby girl...you know Daddy loves this pussy better than anything else. You like it when Daddy fucks you like this, princess? Treating you like the whore you are?”

You whimper and give a slight nod, mostly focused on the brief allowances of air he gives you. With another thrust he lets go of the belt, bringing his hand up to wrap tenderly around the base of your throat. You gasp, sucking in all the air you can before he decides you don’t get any more. The pressure that’s been slowly building inside of you threatens to snap, and you barely hold it back.

“Who’s fucking pussy is this, princess? Who’s little slut are you?”

“Yours,” You gasp. “Yours, Daddy, I’m your little slut.”

“Yeah? Who you thinking about right now? You thinking about Daddy? Or are you thinking about that fucking bastard from the restaurant? You wish it was him fucking you like this?”

“No, never, please, only want you, please, Daddy, please can I cum? Didn’t even remember his name, please, please, I’m so close Daddy, I just-”

“Do it baby.” He brings his hand up ever so slightly, bracing you against his body, while the hand on your hip darts down to rub circles into your clit. “C’mon, princess, you’re so good for me, go ahead, cream on Daddy’s cock. Wanna feel you around me.” It takes seconds, the combination of him thrusting so deep inside that you can feel it on your fucking cervix with the way he rubs your clit, along with the words he’s growling into your ear, it’s god damn magic, and you’re spasming around him in seconds, vision going white as your body goes limp.

When you come to, you’re on your back on the bed, Yoongi between your legs and thrusting desperately into you. You whimper a little, the oversensitivity is always strong right after you cum. He shushes you softly, one hand moving to stroke your hair gently.

“That’s it baby, you take me so well. Fuck, just love watching my cock disappear inside you, could watch that forever. God damn, princess, you are so good, such a good girl, you know that? Can’t wait to marry you, gonna fuck you like this forever, make sure every-fucking-body knows you’re mine.” Your breath catches in your throat, even in your fucked-out haze you know what he just said, but what-

“Fuck, that’s it, take it, princess, take my cum,” Yoongi’s panting on top of you as he comes, thick ropes coating your walls. You’re both breathless as he carefully removes the belt from around your neck, gentle and soft, before he collapses beside you with a huff.

“Yoongi?” You say after a minute, still mostly breathless. He makes a small noise of acknowledgement, enough that you know he isn’t asleep yet. “Did you just...did you just propose to me in the middle of jealousy sex?”

“What? No, I didn’t-” He stops. “Fuck.”

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader smut #bts smut #jealous yoongi #ddaenggtan #literal fucking filth you all #F I L T H #have it

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baseballbitch116 · 5 years

Text

Something New

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Prompt: Steve and the reader having a little flirty banter

Word Count: 2002

Warnings: none, just good ol flufffff

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Steve never thought that he would move on after Peggy died. The heartache was too much for him to even look at someone, let alone to consider it. He didn’t even realize he began to have feelings for you, not until he found himself jealous of T’Challa. The King of Wakanda himself had come to visit the Avengers with a potential mission.

After the brief walk-through, you had walked into the room in search of Bruce. “T-Your highness! What are you doing here?” You asked, clearly excited. Steve crossed his arms as he watched him place a kiss on your cheek and smile at you. He clearly saw you blushing and smiling back at the king, causing a burning feeling in his chest, one that he recognized well from before he was frozen. He did not listen to the short conversation the two of you exchanged, instead trying to make sense of how he had started to have feelings for you without even realizing it.

“Steve?” He jumps, startled by your sudden close proximity and hand on his folded arm. “You with us?” You ask, looking up at him. He gulps - loving the way you look up at him.

Steve nods, muttering “Sorry,” his arm feeling bare when you let go.

After that incident, he spent the next few hours in the gym in the Tower, trying to work off those sudden feelings. He is not a jealous man, and he cannot have feelings for one of his colleagues. He just needs some self-discipline, is all. So he trained with Sam and Bucky until they grew tired. “Steve, what’s going on?” Sam asks, taking a big gulp of water, regaining his breath.

Steve stops for the first time in two hours, taking a deep breath and slouching his shoulders. This entire time, you hadn’t left his thoughts. He usually had more control of himself than this, it frustrated him. In fact, it was driving him crazy - he wanted to focus on something else, anything else.

“It’s… A distraction.” He mumbles, running his hand through his sweaty hair. He pulls his shirt over his head, briefly wiping off his chest, before challenging Bucky to spar. He smirks, realizing exactly what is going on.

“It’s a girl.” He speaks. Steve sighs and gives Bucky a look, as if telling him to grow up, but his friend knows him too well. “Who is it? Nat?” He asks, unsure of who could have caught Steve’s eye.

“Do we know her?” Sam inquires, suddenly very interested in this side of Steve, who is growing more annoyed. He wants to stop thinking about you, and they’re not helping at all.

“Hey guys!” You greet, walking into the room, causing three heads to snap toward you. Sam and Bucky notice how Steve stands up straighter and nods cordially at you, seeming almost awkward. Sam’s jaw drops and he smiles, pointing at you, causing Steve to give him a warning look. Bucky smirks and chuckles, crossing his arms, glad to see his friend may start moving on with his life.

“What?” You question, confused about their reaction to you entering the room. “Do I have something on my face?” You joke, standing beside Sam, looking between Bucky and Steve, waiting for an answer.

“No, they’re just in a childish mood today.” Steve tries to brush off, but you only give him a confused look. Then you realize that he is shirtless and suddenly you are feeling immature. Steve catches you admiring his body, glancing over to Bucky, silently making sure that his friend had caught this as well. Bucky’s smirk grows, and he walks over to place his arm over your shoulder, smiling down at you. You look up at him, confused, and say “Yes Bucky?”

“Y/N, do you happen to have a man in your life?” He asks, glancing at Steve to make sure he looked angry, which he definitely did.

Steve pulls his tank top back on and starts stretching his arms, preparing to spar his annoying friend.

“Uh, no, not at the moment. Why? Know someone who’s interested?” You joke, nudging Bucky in the ribs playfully, knowing that he isn’t referring to himself. Bucky’s gaze returns to Steve momentarily, and you follow it, catching Steve glaring at his friend before he quickly looks away when he sees you looking. The idea crosses your mind, exciting you, and you hope that Bucky is doing what you believe he may be.

Sam is in the back, watching intently, feeling like a teenage girl, but unable to stop himself. This is too good. “I may.” Bucky responds to your question, and you feel your heart skip again.

“Buck. Let’s go.” Steve speaks sternly, looking displeased with his friend, who reluctantly removes his arm from your shoulder and approaches Steve, knowing he is about to try to kick his ass.

“Well I wanna hear all about this possible candidate!” You announce, causing both men to glance back at you, Steve looking nervous and Bucky proud, confirming exactly what you had hoped.

You stood off to the side with Sam as you watched the two soldiers spar. You were very impressed with Steve’s moves, although more often than not, you found yourself watching his muscles. Steve had trouble focusing knowing that you were watching him, but he still did fine.

After a few minutes of this, Bucky decided he was too tired to continue. Sam had already left by this point, and you had totally forgotten why you had come in here in the first place. You watch intently as Steve wipes his forehead and walks toward you. Even the way he walks is sexy - all confident and tall and muscular, he looks ridiculously handsome. “See ya later.” Bucky calls out to you before heading out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“Remind me not to pick a fight with you.” You joke, referring to his sparring. He smiles at you and takes a drink, before he responds

“I’d never fight you anyway.” You blush and look away, wanting to ask him if what you inferred is true or not, but not having the courage to do so.

“So.. I wonder who Bucky was referring to earlier.” You say, watching his reaction. He keeps a mostly calm face, but you can see panic for a half a second, making you wonder if you even saw it at all.

“So you’re ready to start dating again, then?” He asks, leaning against the wall, facing you. You shrug your shoulders, breaking eye contact.

“Depends on the guy, I guess. I don’t want to waste my time again.” You respond, and he nods, understanding.

“Anyone in mind?” He presses, hoping you haven’t caught on. You smile lightly, toying with your fingers nervously, wondering if he can tell.

“Yeah, actually.” You respond, returning your gaze to him, laughing at your childishness.

Steve’s cool composure fades and he lets a smile escape, putting two and two together.

“So, this party tonight. Will I see you there?” He asks, referring to Tony’s party. You nod, hoping he is about to ask you on a date. “Good. Maybe I’ll enjoy myself then.” He flirts. Before you can respond, he continues. “I’m gonna clean up, I’ll see you tonight.” He smiles, and you nod again, flabbergasted at the turn of events.

The party came quick enough, and you found yourself sitting on the couch, talking to a few of the team, right across from Steve. You had caught him looking at you a handful of times. The first he played off, acting as though he hadn’t been looking at you. But by the third time, he maintained eye contact, smiling charmingly at you. That smile was all it took to make you squirm and blush, feeling hot under his gaze. You didn’t hear a word anyone around you was saying, you felt too mesmerized under the intense eye contact you were sharing with Steve.

Until Tony patted his arm and told him it was his turn to try to lift Thor’s hammer. He shrugged, finally looking away from you, but everyone insisted. He glances back to you for a moment, and you just lean back in your seat, crossing your arms and smiling at him, wanting to see if he would be able to move the hammer. If anyone could, it would be Captain America himself.

Steve sighs and stands in front of the hammer on the table, positioning himself good and attempting to lift it. Your eyes wander between his flexing arms and the hammer, and you know you saw it move, just a little. And Thor confirmed it by the wide eyed look he was giving the hammer, clearly in shock that Steve was almost “worthy”.

Steve was about to retake his seat when the music suddenly got louder and he noticed a romantic slow song (Perfect - Ed Sheeran) was playing. He saw as a handful of couples, including Tony and Pepper, began heading out to the dance-floor to dance, and he decided he wanted to act on all of the feelings he had began to have for you. Pushing his fear to the side, he calmly asks you “Y/N, would you like to dance?” You glance between the hand he is extending to you and his handsome face, nodding your head with a happy smile. You place your hand in his and allow him to lead you to the dance-floor. He turns to face you, placing his hand on your waist, the other continuing to hold your hand.

You take a step closer to him and hold his shoulder, smiling up at him as you dance together slowly, as if you had been doing this your whole lives. It feels so right, not the least bit awkward, just content. Your heart is racing in your chest as you listen to the words, allowing yourself to get caught up in the moment.

Steve spins you outward, then carefully pulls you back in, right to his chest, flesh to flesh. Your mouth feels dry but you don’t care, all you can focus on is him. You rest your head against his chest as you continue to dance, swaying back and forth in each other's arms. You can faintly feel his heartbeat, which you notice is pounding, though probably not as hard as yours felt.

Finally, the song ends and you lift your head, taking a step back and looking up at the man who had suddenly become more than just your colleague. “Thank you,” He smiles, kissing your hand romantically. You feel like a teenager again as you bashfully nod.

“Wanna get some air?” You ask, motioning your head toward the balcony. He nods, following you, ignoring all of the shocked and suggestive looks that he was getting from the other men.

And for the next hour, the two of you sat on the balcony together, looking out at the city lights, talking about everything that came to mind. It was amazing, you had never felt more comfortable with another man. Everything was great, and you guys talked until almost everyone had left the party. You continued to talk as he walked you back to your room, having noticed that you were getting tired. As much as you never wanted this night to end, you knew it had to.

So you walked slowly, the door arriving too soon, and stopped outside, smiling up at him.

“Tonight was really great.” You say, your voice quiet, almost worn out from how much speaking you two had done.

“I enjoyed myself after all.” He jokes, smiling right back at you.

It’s quiet for a moment, only slightly awkward, and you hope that this is it. Steve’s face remains neutral, so you can’t tell that a million thoughts are racing through his mind. Instead, you see him leaning down and placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Steve whispers as he pulls away slowly.

Next >

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scarlettswxtch · 5 years

Text

Darkest Side of Me | 2

Characters: Bucky x Reader / Steve x Reader

Summary: You’re recruited as a new Avenger with powers unlike any other. With a tragic past blurred from birth, who will be at your side when you realise who you truly are?

Word count: 2,400

A/N: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL POST. Lol. So sorry to anyone who wondered what happened but please let me know if you enjoy the Bucky and Steve thing or if you’d prefer a Bucky x Reader only fic. I apologise for any spelling mistakes in advance.

On another note, I’m terrible at summaries 😬. It’s changed from my first one if you remember it, just felt like it didn’t describe it well enough. Hope you guys enjoy anyway!! (P.S. I’m SUPER sorry for the late posting I’ve been so busy). Message me if you’d like to be on the tag list :)

Warnings: This fanfiction is M Rated, and the men (really only Steve and Bucky) will all be dominant guys, if you’re into that sorta thing. So..beware cause some chapters may be smutty ;)

DARKEST SIDE OF ME

PART 1

You woke as the sun rises like a canopy of gold, bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take their nightly rest. As darkness surrenders, every colour changes from tinges of charcoal to a vibrancy.

A third cup of coffee was now nestled perfectly into your hands as you stood outside the compound’s kitchen balcony. The avenger’s facility was truly impeccable with its finely trimmed grass fields and blue coastal views. When you had returned from your encounter with Bucky, you sat in bed restlessly, wondering what was so magnetic about him. After millennia of being alive, encountering countless beings, human and alien alike, none of them had made you feel such a strong state of wonder as that damned soldier. There was something about him - his gaze, how it so daringly held yours, the way his presence could make your heart skip, mind wonder. It was ridiculous. He was a stranger you had met merely 24 hours ago. Yet, it was intriguing, made you want to know more. It was seldom someone made you feel this way and you wondered what the fates were trying to tell you.

You closed your eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, breathing in its poignant salty breath, sighing in silent content. Quiet mornings were your most cherished part of the day.

“Mornin’.” You hear behind you. Startled, you whirl around and almost spill your coffee everywhere. A splash of it lands on the floor and thankfully not on you. You’d think a goddess would have a little more grace than this, you think to yourself and scowl at the now brown spot on an otherwise perfectly pristine floor.

Your eyes turn to meet a lovely pair of wonderfully azure orbs now shining with amusement. You gather yourself, your scowl deepening...which apparently only adds to his amusement because he chuckles.

“Good morning, Captain.” You say, unimpressed with his humour. Inner you squealed at his sudden presence. Steve Rodgers was like a GQ model with all the charm in the world.

He sauntered over to your side, keeping a friendly, and (unfortunately) professional distance. “How you settling in?” He says, his eyes level to yours.

You didn’t miss his loose grey t-shirt, which quite frankly did nothing to hide his very obvious god-like build. The muscles of his biceps flexed with every slight movement and damn if you didn’t want to reach out and take your time tracing each ridge with your fingertips. Maybe even your tongue. You wouldn’t be opposed to either. Jesus Christ this guy was hot.

Your eyes snapped to his. If he noticed you checking him out, he gratefully didn’t show it. Although, you assumed he was used to swooning women. “Fine,” you said, your voice holding a hint of hoarseness that he didn’t miss. “Might take a little getting used to, but everyone seems great” you finished, with a smile.

Steve nodded and gave you a smile of his own. “Yeah it can be tough, first coupla days”.

“The whole welcome committee made me feel more at ease”

“Yeah, you stick around long enough they’ll start to feel like family” he said sympathetically, correctly guessing family was a sore spot for you.

Your eyes turned to him, unsurprised “You read my file.”

“Always do my homework on new recruits” he explained “Fury runs files through us before approval...it’s not often someone gets recommended for the team. When Fury found out about you, and what you could do, he wanted you on board ASAP. We didn’t protest.”

You raised a brow “So I got the Tony and Cap stamp of approval? I’m flattered”

He grins “No doubt your file is quite impressive, the team could definitely use someone like you on our side. Thor didn’t seem thrilled with the idea the idea, though. He protested to say the least.”

You chuckled, but there was nothing but bitterness behind it “Yes. I can imagine” He raised a brow and you looked away from him in memory. It didn’t go unnoticed that he wasn’t part of your welcome party last night. Odin disliked you for reasons unbeknownst - Thor and you were the best of friends, once upon a time. He took pity on you, swearing to convince his father to allow you refuge on Asgard. Days later, he returned with a wary look on his face, claiming to know ‘who you really are’. You never saw him again.

“Long story,” You told Steve.

His hand gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and his next words were said like velvet, “If you ever need to talk, I have all the time in the world. Literally,” you appreciated Steve, he was like a beacon of safety and warmth. The kinda guy that would take your deepest, darkest secrets to the grave because he promised.

You smiled at him warmly. It was unlikely you’d take him up on that, but you were grateful for his sincerity. “I’ll keep that in mind” He simply nods in response.

Moments later, he sighs loudly before downing all his coffee, placing the cup on the table beside him and turning to you with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Wanna spar?” He asks, both hands on hips and lips tipped up in challenge. You raise a surprised eyebrow and he grins “What? Scared you’ll lose?”

You chuckle, appreciating the change of topic. “I see you didn’t do all your homework on me, Captain” you say, placing your unfinished coffee on the table. You levelled his challenging gaze with your own, “Both know I could beat you with my eyes closed” you retort, teasingly, and he smiles with wonderful curiosity.

“I did read your file. Thoroughly” he retorts, stepping closer to you. You suddenly felt very small against his ridiculously tall frame. “You’re enhanced. Healing powers, fast reflexes, better than any Soviet-trained assassin according to SHIELD” he stopped with pointed humour “although I’m sure Bucky and Natasha will contest that”, that made you scoff. “Besides, new recruits need training”

“I’m impressed. Although I think you’ll find your time as a popsicle has nothing on my literal thousand-year-old experience.” You said with a grin

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” He asked with a hearty laugh and right then you were certain no galaxy in the world could show you anything more pleasant.

“Hey, you started it Cap, I’m known for my retribution”

“I’m sure you’ll go easy on me” he adds.

You gave him a smirk “No promises”

~~~

“You okay down there, Cap?” You say, your voice trembling with humour.

Steve Rodgers looks up at you from the hard floor of the training room. Salty droplets flow down his face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the concrete as he sits to regain his breath.

He lets out a huffed breath and repeats your earlier words “I’m impressed”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, eyes shining with obvious pride. You had just taken down the world’s favourite golden boy with nothing but a few fight moves. Needless to say, Cap had some good moves of his own and had almost got you down a few times. Then again, you are of a completely superior alien race, so you’d give him some credit.

“Well, not like Fury to employ any average gal- “you began, before a strong hand wrapped around your ankle and you were suddenly falling down, moments away from head butting the floor before strong hands wrapped around your waist, guiding you to land quite snug on Steve’s lap.

He gave you an amused look “You were saying?” Suddenly, you were very aware of his warm hands against your waist and you couldn’t think of a better feeling.

Actually...maybe you could...because right now your hands were resting on his chest and holy hell does it feel nice. All you wanted to do was rip off his shirt and set it ablaze. In fact, you wanted to march to his room and set all of his shirts ablaze. It would be a blessing to all humankind to watch Steve Rodgers walk around shirtless, all the time...24/7...would definitely add years onto someone’s life. Especially if they had their hands on him, just like this.

He squeezes you as if you gain your attention, his eyes twinkling with amusement because he had very obviously caught you checking out his chest. You blinked, sure enough your cheeks were now stained pink. Thank god mind reading wasn’t on his resume.

You cleared your throat “You distracted me, that’s cheating. Besides, I’m not using any of my abilities on you. Fair game and everything” you finish with a smirk.

“Thought you weren’t going easy on me?” He said teasingly.

“You could’ve let me fall and you didn’t.”

He grins “Yeah, I had a good reason”.

You raised a brow “And what would that be?”

You feel his hands softly squeeze your bare waist and your breath hitches. “Didn’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours, darlin’” he says, and inner you sighs in upmost content. Well...damn. Safe to say Captain America could charm anyone’s pants off. You were just happy this time they were yours. His hands move lower, thumb now drawing circles against your back and you feel your mind wonder to places it shouldn’t. Gosh his eyes are nice, and you’d be damned if his face wasn’t even more beautiful up close. You were dazed, and if you weren’t mistaken, so was he because his eyes glazed over with a very familiar look of lust. Perhaps if you just leaned a little clo-

“Well don’t you two look cosy” you hear from the doorway and your head whips around to meet an icy cold stare. Bucky Barnes. What terrible timing.

You promptly lift yourself off Steve, almost giving yourself whiplash, hand shooting out to hold the bars of the ring. You clear your throat. “We were just sparring” you explain, and frown to yourself. Why did you feel the urge to justify yourself to this man?

He lifted an eyebrow “If that’s how you spar, doll, you’ll have the whole house lining up for a piece of that”

Your eyes narrow. Did he just -. Your mouth opens, but before you can reply he cuts you off: “Stark wants us at the conference room in 5. So, when you two love-birds are done ‘sparring’” he says, pointedly air-quoting the last word and your eyes narrow further “we’ll be waiting for you”. And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

You turned to Steve and your look of disbelief must’ve been evident on your face because he chuckles as he lifts himself off the floor. “Don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy.” He walks out of the ring, suddenly turning to you all Captain America like as if he didn’t just have you on his lap 2 minutes ago. “Get cleaned up”, he throws a towel at you “I’ll see you in the conference room in 3” and with that, he leaves, and you’re left wondering if all super soldiers are this perplexing.

~~~

The conference room was nice to say the least. Tony Stark did nothing half-way. You were watching him with all his authority and confidence, but your thoughts were a million miles away. Cap sat at the head of the table and you could see his lips form words your mind wasn’t quite registering. Probably not a great idea considering this was your first mission debriefing. Your thoughts were in fact on the man opposite you. His metal hand tapping restlessly on the table, you could tell he was paying as much attention as you were. You tilted your head in silent wonder and observed him with careful consideration. If the hard line on his lips and slight frown were anything to go by, something was bothering him, and you could tell.

He doesn’t look any less gorgeous when he’s annoyed, by the way. If anything, it added to the masculinity of his features; hard jaw clenching deliciously, eyes miraculously darker, that perpetual murderous look in his face magnetised by a million. Jesus Christ you felt like a teenager. Why are these stupid, gorgeous super soldiers taking up all your damned thoughts?

You didn’t know what it was about Steve either. His in-your-face all-star golden boy beauty was fucking gut wrenching. He was sweet, ever-so welcoming, he joked, had this calm, comforting aura that made you feel warm and lovely. Like you knew him all your life - as if he were your long-lost best friend your soul wanted to hold onto with every ounce of her being. Your eyes flickered to him and you watched as his mouth made yet more unheard words. Your interaction earlier had been unprecedented. Sure, you were attracted to him, but who wasn’t? Steve Rodgers is Adonis embodied and every woman knew it. He was blinding and warm like the sun.

And Bucky...he was different. The complete paradox of Steve. Bloody beautiful in all the rough ways. There was nothing in-your-face about him, no. He was mysterious, extraordinarily so. There was nothing light about him - just stormy, agonising beauty. You could tell he was that intense guy. The kind women would look at and want just because he looked dangerous. Just because they knew he’d give them the ride of their lives and probably break their heart on the way, but it didn’t matter cause that was part of the adventure. The guy that would wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze until you were on your knees, clawing for breath while telling him how every inch of you belonged to him. Then he’d fuck you bloody just to prove it.

You watched him with a calculated gaze. You had only brief interactions with him but every one of them felt like eternity between you and those icy blue whirlpools of his. There was much more to the Winter Solider than his cold, broody exterior and you wanted to dive deep inside that ocean of his mind and uncover them.

His eyes turned to you then. He had obviously felt you staring. He raised an annoyed brow in question, and you said nothing, just looked away in silent consideration.

Natasha poked your thigh from beside you and you turned to her, her green eyes held a mischievous glint as her eyes flickered to Steve, then Bucky, and then you in silent questioning. You rolled your eyes; she had clearly sensed your distraction and your very obvious staring at the two soldiers probably confirmed whatever thoughts she was having. Damn Widow always noticed everything. She smirked, mouthing “Later” and her eyes promised an incoming, post-brief interrogation. Metal note to nicely ask Natasha to debrief you on the debriefing too.

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chalantness · 5 years

Text

fic: In Me, There is You

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: ~3400 Characters: Steve/Natasha Summary: “I wasn’t sure if I should’ve woken you.” “I’m glad you did,” she whispers against his neck. “I felt—” Trapped. She felt completely trapped in her nightmare, unable to move, to breathe. She can’t bring herself to say the word, but she knows Steve understands her, anyway. He always does.

A/N: THIS FANFIC CONTAINS MAJOR MOVIE SPOILERS.

Earlier today you got plotless fluff, now here's plotless smut based on suggestions by two anons.

Read On: [ ao3 ]

She doesn’t startle awake, which is maybe why she feels a little more disoriented than usual as she comes to, blinking through the dark of the bedroom. Her chest feels tight and her lungs feel a little bit like they’re burning, like she can’t take air in fast enough, until her eyes find Steve’s—bright and blue, wide with alarm, with worry—lingering just above her, snapping her out of her daze. She sucks in a sharp breath, sputtering, lungs fluttering in relief, and his large, warm, calloused hands are on her, moving firmly but slowly, rubbing in soothing circles over her back as he tugs her arm gently to sit her up. He touches her cheek, and it’s only then that she realizes that she must have cried.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, his thumb brushing a tear from the corner of her eye, his lips a gentle press against her temple.

It’s odd that this feels natural, that it feels comfortable, even though Steve only just started to touch her like this. Only now did they start sharing a bed, but she wakes up next to him in Tony and Pepper’s guest bedroom, his body curled around hers, their legs tangled, and it feels as if she’s done it her whole life.

He always seems to touch her, to play with her hair and hold her hand, to kiss her, simply because he wants to, and sometimes it draws stares and smiles and smirks from their friends. But sometimes no one blinks at them. No one bats an eye, as if this intimacy between has always been there. And maybe it has, just simply not in these ways before.

But it is new—very new—and she clings onto this, her hand coming up to curl around his wrist, squeezing tight, to remind her where she is.

They brought her back. They won the war, they reversed the snap, and they brought her back from the Soul Stone. This isn’t just a dream, isn’t just a nightmare playing tricks on her heart, and she digs her nails into Steve’s skin with how tightly she clings onto him and this truth.

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let her know. He doesn’t even flinch. He simply draws her to his chest and kisses her hair, her temple, her cheek, murmuring words she can’t quite catch, though the comfort her all the same. Her breaths even out in the quiet of the room, slowly but surely, and she loosens her grip but doesn’t let go. She doesn’t think she could even if she wanted to. She glances down the bed, her eyes adjusted to the dark, and takes in the way the covers and sheets are tangled around her calves. She felt as if she’d been frozen in her dream, unable to do anything but fall, but it’s obvious her body had been frantic. She can’t remember ever moving around so much in her sleep before.

As if hearing her thoughts, Steve mumbles into her hair: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.”

She closes her eyes, letting her head fall into the curve of his shoulder, his pulse beating just a little faster than normal under her ear. “I’ve never died and come back before.”

“Nat,” he breathes, arms tightening around her. “I wasn’t sure if I should’ve woken you.”

“I’m glad you did,” she whispers against his neck. “I felt—” Trapped. She felt completely trapped in her nightmare, unable to move, to breathe. She can’t bring herself to say the word, but she knows Steve understands her, anyway.

He always does.

“You were fine the last few nights.” It isn’t an accusation, or a question; simply an observation. They may have never shared a bed before—not like this, when they mean it in a gesture of intimacy, rather than one of convenience while they’d been on a mission, or together on the run—but he still knows her habits. He’s slept near her countless times, in the same room as her, sometimes the very same space. He knows that her trauma doesn’t always catch up with her right away, so her nightmares don’t come until a bit later.

She supposes that there’s some sense of comfort in the fact that she still feels like herself, with her habits and her nuances, even after death.

She senses that same odd sort of relief in his exhale, too, and so she tips her head back to meet his gaze, her lips twitching into the wisps of a smile. His eyes wrinkle at the corners, returning her expression, and then he drops his lips to her forehead. “Come on,” he says against her skin. “Why don’t I draw a bath? Maybe that’ll calm your nerves.”

“Worth a shot,” she replies, letting him draw untangle her legs from the covers before pulling her across the bed, gathering her in his arms. Her lips twitch, her smile widening ever so slightly in amusement. A tease about him being her knight is on the tip of her tongue, but then she sucks in a soft, sharp gasp as he all but throws her over his shoulder. She feels his body shake with a quiet laugh as she lets out one of her own, breathy and light, bracing her hands against his back as she lifts her head and tries to look over her shoulder at him. She can’t see his face, but she knows – she just knows – that if she could, she would find a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes glinting in delight.

He flicks on the light to the adjoining bathroom, and she squints slightly against the sudden brightness as he sets her down atop the counter. He kisses her gently, briefly, and sure enough, there’s that damn expression of his that she loves a little too much.

She watches as he turns away from her, twists the faucet and get the water running, and then he’s reaching back and grabbing at his shirt with his fist, yanking it off and over his head before tossing it to the floor. His back is to her, his muscles flexing, and she can’t help the way that a warmth rushes through her veins as she traces the sculpted lines down his spine, to his narrow hips that make his body seem broader, if possible—and to the way his sweatpants hang low on him as he hooks his thumbs under the waistband.

Before he can peel them off, however, she slides off of the counter and crosses the small distance between them, his body tensing in surprise when her lips brush against his shoulder blade in a kiss. Her hands curve over his, and he glances over his shoulder, catching her gaze.

Then she slips underneath, hands coming around the front of him, cupping him gently, firmly, and she holds his stare as his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. She hides her smile into his shoulder, but she knows he can still feel it.

“Nat,” he breathes, half-warning.

She burrows her face against him, wraps her fingers around his length and feels his groan in the way it vibrates through his chest, against her lips. She breathes in the clean musk of his scent, relishes in that ridiculous body heat of his and the way it practically scorches her where her skin meets his—she drowns her every sense in him, her hand moving in slow, teasing strokes, wanting to lose herself in the reality of him. Needing his groans in her ears, echoing in the small space of the bathroom, keeping her here, in this very moment. It makes her nipples tighten through her shirt, makes warmth pool in her stomach, coiling at the base of her spine, and she relishes in every little sensation.

Then Steve is pulling her hand away, twisting around and grasping at her shirt, and she just barely moves with him to let him peel it over her head.

“Nat,” he groans just before his lips slant against hers, kissing her hard, kissing her deep, his hands finding her hips and pulling at her pajama shorts, then her underwear, until she’s standing bare in front of him. He smiles into her mouth. “I need you wet.”

Then she gasps as he lifts her with ease, lifting her up and setting into the wide tub, water spilling over the edge with the motion, but neither of them blinks at this. He twists the water off, licks water from her bottom lip before drawing away, and she practically melts against the ceramic of the tub as her body sinks further into the water. It’s almost hot enough that it could hurt, but it doesn’t, not even a little. Steve finally peels his sweats off, the length of him hard and a little wet at the tip from her touch, and she doesn’t try to hide the smile that pulls at her lips as her eyes flick back up to his. He grins, eyes glinting, and then he climbs into the tub with her, sending more water onto the floor.

He braces a forearm against the tub as he leans over her, his large, broad body covering hers, and she hooks her legs around his hips as his mouth is over hers again, parting her lips open and slipping his tongue against hers.

Her hands slide over him, fingers tracing every inch of skin it passes as they move down his chest, down to his hips, then back up, over her shoulders and down his arms. She touches him as if she’s trying to memorize his every dip and curve with her fingertips, and she lets out a soft noise of protest when he pulls away, drawing her hands off of him. She stares up at him, eyelids half-closed, lips parted, and he peers down at her with dark, stormy blue eyes as they trace down her body the way her fingers had touched his.

Then he shifts back, leaning against the other end of the tub as he draws her body to his, turning her around in the water until she’s settled between his legs, her back turned toward him. He gathers her hair and pushes it over one shoulder, kisses the curve of her neck, once, twice, three times, as he gently digs his thumbs into her shoulders. She lets out a soft noise from the back of her throat, her head tipping back, and he digs his thumbs just a little bit harder, circling into her flesh as he slowly moves his way down. She hadn’t even realized how tense she’d felt from her nightmare until now, with the heat of the water making her feel loose and pliant under Steve’s touch, her nerves all but dissipating with every gentle press. He makes his way down her back, following the curve of her spine until he reaches her hips, sliding around and over the tops of her thighs.

The first brush of his fingers over the folds of her sex makes her jump, so brief that she thinks it had maybe been an accident.

Until two fingers are pressing against her again in purposeful strokes, parting her sex. Her lips fall open in a soft moan as his mouth skims over her pulse, sucking at it gently at first, then a little harder. His fingertips find her little bundle of nerves with ease and he teases it in slow circles, her hips starting to rock against his hand as she moans louder.

“Quiet, love,” he shushes gently, smirking into her neck as he dips his fingers lower, lower, finding her entrance. “Someone will hear you.”

She bites down on her lower lip, hard, stifling another desperate noise from the back of her throat. She can feel the hard length of him against the small of her back with every roll of her hips, but when she tries to reach back and touch him, he pulls his hand off of her and grasps her wrist, bringing it out of the water to curl her fingers over the edge of the tub. He doesn’t say anything and she can’t see his expression, but she can practically feel the command radiating off of him, pinning her in place, and she lets out something akin to a mewl when his fingers find her entrance again with slow, teasing strokes. Then he presses his face into her cheek, kisses her skin and sinks two fingers inside of her.

She’s not quite sure if it’s because she feels more sensitive with the heat of the water, or with the way they’re pressed together like this, confined in the space of the tub – or simply because her every sense is filled with Steve, aroused beyond compare – but already, she can feel the pleasure build as it spirals down her spine.

He curls his fingers, quickly finding a rhythm that makes her vision eyes haze over.

She doesn’t know how long it takes—minutes, seconds—but then his other hand slips forward, finding her clit in quick, tight circles, and she presses the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle her cry as she comes undone under his touch.

Her body writhes as best as it can with the way she’s pinned to him, and a long, low groan leaves his chest, muffled into the curve of her neck, as if he’d nearly found his own high simply from bringing hers. He’s hard, practically throbbing against the small of her back, and even dizzy and a little delirious from the tremors of her orgasm, she wants to touch him. She turns in the water, her movements feeling clumsy, but she hardly cares. She kneels and grasps at his face, pulling his mouth to hers in a kiss. She’d felt almost on the verge of passing out with the way Steve had been massaging her, with how her body felt as if it melted into the heat of the water, but now, she couldn’t feel more awake.

Pleasure pours over her in unrelenting waves, her skin humming, tingling, and she’s already sort of trembling as he grasps her hips and draws her against the tip of him.

Then he pulls her down, sinking her over him, and she wraps her arms around him and gasps against his forehead when she feels him bottom out inside of her. The stretch of him is delicious, the way he fills her is deep and just a little bit delirious, and she twists her fingers into his hair and exhales a shaky breath as her sex flutters and tightens.

But it’s never too much. Even like this, in this position, his body fits inside of her as perfectly as it had the very first time.

As if he was made to fit against her.

He lifts her hips up, almost all the way off, then brings them back down, each stroke slow and sensual at first, and she knows that’s for her. His jaw is locked tight, his muscles pulled taut in his restraint. He practically throbs inside of her, but he’d never, ever push her if he felt like it would be too much.

She twists her fingers tighter in his hair, lifts herself up and then sinks back down in quicker strokes, and it’s easy, the way they find their rhythm together.

She yanks his head back, just a little, gnaws on her lower lip and watches the arousal pull at his expression, even as he gives her that dimpled, boyish grin of his. His long eyelashes flutter with his arousal, his breaths growing shorter, but she knows that she’s still much closer than he is. Her first orgasm had made her all the more sensitive, the pleasure coursing through her veins, coiling low in her stomach. Her forehead falls against his, a mewl spilling from her lips as his thumb finds her little bundle of nerves as he strokes it gently, teasing just enough for her to feel herself getting closer and closer to that blissful peak. His mouth slants up against hers as he kisses her against a gasp, his grip tightening against her hips. Not enough to hurt, but enough to know that it’ll bruise, and she’ll relish in them marks just as he revels in soothing them with his tongue.

Her moan is muffled against her kiss as she unravels at the seams for a second time, her body trembling, twitching in his lap as he continues to thrust up into her. Her eyes squeeze shut with the force of her high, her hips gyrating, bucking against him, and his entire body rumbles in a groan.

He lifts her up and out of the water with ease, her body wrapped around his, as if he’d known she would be mothered by both the heat of her orgasm and the heat of the bath if she stayed in there a moment longer. She sucks in a gasp, skin prickling against the cold of the air, and the sensation feels odd with how her veins feel as if they’re on fire.

Steve stumbles forward, his movements graceless perhaps for the first time ever, at least that she can remember, and despite the way her mind is sort of spinning, the thought of this makes her smile.

They barely make it a few steps forward before Steve is pressing her body up against the doorframe of the bathroom, his hands pinning her hips to the wall as his pace grows faster, harder. She can just barely hear footsteps coming down the hallway – toward their room – and she’s only just pressed her face into the curve of Steve’s neck when the door is being clicked open. She feels Steve tense, his hips stuttering as a startled, “oh, shit—” briefly fills the air, and then the door is being slammed shut again, but not once does Steve stop. He continues moving inside of her, his body wound tight, about to burst under her fingertips, and she pulls back to stare into his eyes as their pleasure builds.

“Shit, fuck, sorry—” Barnes mutters, voice muffled through the wall. Though they must have been half-hidden from the bedroom door at this angle, she knows there’s no mistaking what he saw. “We heard something, though maybe—”

“Dude, explain later,” Sam interrupts, and though the command is half-frantic, Natasha knows there’s a touch of smugness in his tone, too.

But she doesn’t care, not even a little. She can barely focus on them, barely registers the sound of them hurrying back down the hallway, because then Steve is moaning as he brings their hips flushed together, his release warm as she feels it spill inside of her.

This simple sensation tips her over the edge, too, her body coming apart once more, and it feels as if the pleasure pulls at every ounce of energy she has left. Her third orgasm is gentler than the first two, but only just barely as she digs her nails into the muscles of his back, her body quivering against his in bursts of tremors.

She feels spent. Truly and thoroughly fucked, and she licks her hips, letting her head fall into the curve of his neck as, eventually, he peels her off of the wall. He makes the short distance to the bed and sets her down, still inside of her, her arms and legs still wrapped around him.

When she finds her voice, it’s breathless and heavy, thick with the sleep threatening to pull her under. “I think we’ve traumatized the entire household.”

Steve’s body vibrates with his laugh, low and rumbling. Their bodies are still wet, the bathwater dripping from their skin, quickly dampening the duvet, but neither of them seems capable of moving just yet. “They’ll get used to it,” he mumbles into her hair, kissing her there, then over her temple, against her forehead, until he finds her lips.

They’ll get used to it. Part of him had been teasing, she knows, but a bigger part of him had meant it. He’d meant more.

This is their life now – this is them now, every new and old and strange part, and everything in between – and he isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers. They’ll get used to it, he promised, because he isn’t about to let anyone or anything tear her from him again.

Her lips curve into a smile as her eyelashes flutter closed, and, as she falls asleep to the thrum of his heart and the steady, warm breaths against her ear – she knows for certain that this isn’t a dream.

It’s real, and it’s so much better because of it.

#endgame spoilers #avengers endgame spoilers #romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #chanty writes #chanty's smut #anon

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

Note

So, I have had this little thought in my head the last few weeks. Its small and really just a snapshot- whenever I try to write it it goes pear shaped, I just *CAN'T* write a convincing Captain America for the life of me. Premise- Reader accidently walks in on Cap masturbating in his sitting room in the Avengers Compound. Do you think you could work your magic on my little scenario? I will love you forever if you choose to do it.

[OK. So this is sorter than I thought and it could be WAY smuttier but… idk. I kind of liked the ending and have been just staring at it. This was such a fun prompt and I hope you enjoy how it plays out. Thanks, pumpkin!!!]

You pace your room over and over again. Breath hitching, palms sweating, every muscle tight.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you groan doubling over. You were supposed to be in his room two hours ago. Face first you fall onto your bed.

Groaning into the duvet you chastise yourself internally. Wanda was more together than you and she was 18 fucking years old. You’re 31… and you’re acting like a lovestruck teenager. Worse. Lovestruck teenagers had the spine to let themselves be lovestruck. You’re just wallowing in your emotions too fucking afraid to talk about them like an adult.

Tension had been building between the two of you for months now. Then you fucking kissed him. Goddamnit.

It just happened. He’d been worried about you and you’d been worried about him after that mission. The things you’d seen… You were both so shaken and just… It was all you could think to do at that moment to convey how happy you were that he was ok, that he was still here with you.

After you avoided him… like a child. Until this morning when he texted you asking to talk tonight…

Fuck this, you think as you push yourself up. You stride in the bathroom, avoid looking at the circles under your eyes and splash water in your face. You’re doing this. You want to do this. Plus… it had been four days… you miss him.

At your door, you steel yourself, throw your shoulders back, and stride out. Each step closer to Steve’s door sends your heart thundering in your chest even more to the point you think you’re just going to explode. When you finally get there you don’t hesitate if you do you’ll lose your nerve, and he’s expecting you anyway… sort of.

A deep breath and you turn the blessedly unlocked handle. “Look I know I’m late I’m just so-”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Steve bellows jumping up from his couch. All super soldier grace is gone when you’re caught with your pants literally around your ankles.

He stands, stumbles, and falls to his knees all while trying to cover up and save some kind of dignity for both of you in this situation. All you can do is stare, jaw hanging open.

“Do you mind?!” He looks up at you from the floor covering himself with a pillow.

This undoes you both. Deep belly laughs spill from both of you. In minutes you’re on your knees just inside the door, he’s still by the couch, both of you crying with laughter.

“Oh god,” you gasp, “I’m so sorry! I-”

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Steve bursts out with another ringing laugh, his head thrown back. “I forgot to lock the door.”

“That’s like rule #1, Rogers,” you wipe your eyes. “Amature hour, on both our parts.”

“Woo,” he breathes out. “Yeah, haven’t you been told to knock? Who are you Vision? He has an excuse he’s basically a smart toddler.”

You lean back against the door, “Raised by wolves. Lucky I can even figure out a doorknob.” He shakes his head looking at you, a smile brightening his features.

Gnawing at your bottom lip for a second you try to talk yourself out of your next words and fail. “Be a shame to waste your hard work…” His brows raise in shock and you laugh. “Look, I’m…” You stand, “Ridiculous… and leaving.”

Your hand is on the doorknob when he says, “Y/N, wait.” You turn and he’s up, stepping free of his sweatpants.

A mischievous smile turns up the corners of his lips, his blue eyes sparkling. You swallow hard, eyes running over his disgustingly perfect body. As he walks over you can’t help but appreciate the grace, the way his thigh muscles flex, the way his…

He cups your face in his massive hands. “Steve…”

His mouth hovers over yours, voice low, eyes meeting yours, “Can I kiss you?”

Your fingers graze his hip bones, and his breath stutters just a touch. There’s a lot of ways this can go bad. You’re friends… close friends. You work together, your lives literally depending on the other…

“Yes,” you breathe out. Fuck caution. Fuck reason. Fuck it.

Your first kiss had tasted like sweat and fear. A moment of desperation and panic. This is different. He tastes like whiskey. Hot, bitter, sweet. Rather than desperation, there’s hunger, wanting, curiosity. Most of all… happiness.

Involuntarily you smile against his kiss as you brace your hands on the sides of his neck. His hands slide down your back and grab your ass, a low rumble vibrating his lips. He’s pressed flush against your body, cock throbbing. Desire pulses through you.

He pulls away, walking backward, hand reaching down, stroking up the length of him as he takes you in. Once at the couch he sits, his legs spread wide, watching you and stroking with an impish grin on his face.

You know you mirror his expression as your hands grab the hem of your tee and pull it over your head, dropping it to the side. His lips part a touch as you slide your leggings down your muscular legs and kick them away. Your lace bralette and boy shorts aren’t the sexiest pieces in your arsenal but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Standing between his legs you look down at him, his hand frozen. Taking his hand in yours you move it away and lower to your knees. It really shouldn’t shock you that he’d be this impressive. It does though.

You grasp his thighs, and his breath catches. When your tongue flicks out to catch the drop of moisture at his head he makes a small satisfying noise. Keeping your eyes up on his to gauge his reaction you drag your tongue down the underside of his cock to the seam of his balls. His eyes flutter a bit, long lashes grazing his cheekbones, and he groans softly.

Moving your tongue back up the length of him you grab his shaft as you circle his head with your lips. His hips twitch up, pushing into your mouth. You let go and take him in as much as you can. Gently he rests his hand on the back of your head as you work him. After a few minutes, and some water work inducing noises from him, he cups your face urging you to stop.

You look up at him, and he nods toward his bed at the far side of the room. For a second you wonder about the merits of this plan. Think about all the ways this can go wrong, ruin your friendship, cause you to lose him. His hands grasping your shoulders and lifting you alongside him bring your thoughts back to where they should be. This moment. Ridiculous, and funny, and just a touch awkward… is perfectly suited to the two of you. Whatever comes after… fuck it.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve fluff #steve rogers drabble

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

*Tease* (Part Four)

MASTERLIST Enjoy :) ******************

Steve was working out for the second time in about six hours because Bucky was gone out on a scouting mission, and Tony always threatened to drop Steve's “all American ass” for some “winter booty” if Steve slacked on his squats, and this was the perfect opportunity to squeeze in a few more reps to make sure that Tony's threat didn't actually come true.

So Steve had done squats until his legs were shaking and then he had switched to inverted sit ups because e knew Tony liked his abs. Now he was doing push ups, partly because they were easy, partly because he knew Tony liked to watch his arms and shoulders flex and Tony was due in the gym any minute now for a yoga session with Natasha.

Sure enough, within five minutes Natasha walked into the gym followed closely by Tony who was lugging his favorite old school stereo over his shoulder and laughing at something the redhead said.

Then Tony looked over and saw Steve doing push ups and tilted his head in interest before sending Steve one of those slow smiles that always made him weak.

“Hey Babe.” Tony jogged over and bent down to press a lingering kiss to Steve's lips. “You look great. You gonna be around for a little bit?”

“Got a few sets on the weights to do.” Steve said, standing up and wrapping an arm around Tony to kiss him longer. “But I'll be around.”

“Oh good.” Tony's eyes were sparkling and he stood on his toes to kiss Steve again. “Bucky's gone so maybe you and I can spend some time alone, huh? Just some one on one--”

“Tony!” Natasha called loudly, interrupting their moment. “Get your nam-ass-te over here so we can do this.”

“I love you.” Tony whispered against Steve's lips and Steve sighed a little.

“Oh, honey, I love you too.”

***************

Good God Steve hated Tony.

No, of course that wasn't true. He didn't hate Tony, he loved with every bit of his soul that wasn't hopelessly in love in Bucky.

But right now? Yeah, he sort of hated him.

And Natasha.

Good God Steve hated Natasha.

Why was she still in the gym? Why was she still coaching Tony through all these stretches? Why was yoga so damn sexy??

Also, and really this was the entire problem, honestly--

--And Steve couldn't help but steal one of Tony's favorite phrases, vulgarity aside for the moment--

What in the ever- loving, actual FUCK was Tony wearing ?

Steve had dropped his weights not once, or twice or even three times. No no, eight different times he had dropped the barbell onto his chest before he had given up and just sat up to just stare.

At Tony.

In a leotard .

But of course his boyfriend wasn't just wearing a regular leotard to do yoga, which would have been bad enough, because Tony had wonderful legs and an ass that made Steve want to scream.

No a regular leotard would have been far too boring, apparently, because Steve wasn't even sure if what Tony was wearing even counted as a leotard.

It was black and stretchy sure, just like the one Natasha was wearing. But Tasha was wearing little green shorts over hers.

Tony was not .

Tasha’s leotard covered every inch of skin from her wrists to her neck and down to where it disappeared into her shorts.

Tony's leotard did not .

Tony's leotard was cut in a deep vee down to his navel, and sat off his shoulders, wrapping down his arms to his wrists. Even though it covered his ass, it was cut high in his thighs and showed off every inch of his beautiful legs as he bent over to touch his toes.

Every inch of his beautiful legs, and the curve of that perfect, bouncy ass, and the bulge between his legs because now Tony had spread his legs and was dropping into a split, and Steve could see all his muscles stretching in that floor to ceiling mirror, and could definitely see the smirk on Tony's face when he caught Steve staring.

So Steve just kept staring.

No sense hiding, right? Not when Tony was already well aware of Steve's complete lack of ability to look away?

And finally--thank all the gods Steve could name, Thor and Loki included-- Natasha finished their set of stretching and patted herself dry with a towel.

“I'm gonna take off, Tony, you coming?”

“Gonna work through one more set.” He said and Natasha flicked her eyes at Steve then leaned in close and placed a soft kiss to Tony's cheek.

“You're going to make that cute blond explode.”

“Shooting more for a heart attack and perhaps sweaty post workout sex.” Tony admitted with something like a leer. “He always showers before getting grabby with me. I feel like I'd enjoy sweaty Steve.”

“You are ridiculous.” Nat said with a soft laugh. “I'll get out of here before the sweat starts flying.”

“Thanks.”

Natasha gathered her things and sent a quick wave towards Steve before leaving the gym, discreetly locking the door as she went.

Steve was moving before the door even clicked shut, and when Tony stood back up from changing the music, Steve was standing right behind him.

“Hey there cutie pie.” Tony said teasingly, smiling at Steve's reflection in the mirror. “My eyes are up here.”

Steve--whose blue eyes were firmly fixed on Tony's ass--jerked his gaze up, then back down, then up again, meeting Tony's eyes with a horrified flush.

“Tony I'm--” Steve's eyes dropped back down, and he heaved a big sigh and shrugged. “I don't even care, honey I just--” his big hands circled Tony's waist easily, smoothing over his hips and gripping his ass. “Tony I just---”

Tony lifted into his toes, and Steve groaned helplessly. “Tony, this is ridiculous. How am I supposed to keep my eyes anywhere but right here??”

“Well, do you want to help me through my stretches?” Tony asked and Steve pressed a hungry kiss to the side of his neck.

“So badly. I am so all about stretching with you right now.”

“Hands here, then.” Tony re positioned Steve's hands and took a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Yep.” Steve still wasn't looking Tony in the eye--or reflection, rather, and his hands definitely weren't where Tony had put them, running in firm strokes up Tony's sides before tracing down the entirely distracting and all together ridiculous v-neck.

“Tony this is the best thing you've ever--” the rest of his sentence was lost when he sighed into Tony's ear. “The best thing you've ever--” nibbles over Tony's bare shoulder, his hands squeezing at his waist. “Tony, this is---”

“Steve !” Tony whined and shrugged to discourage his boyfriend from sucking a bruise into his collarbone. “I'm trying to stretch!”

“Sorry.” Steve muttered, but he wasn't sorry, not in the least, and when he ran both his hands up Tony's back, he finally looked up and met Tony's eyes in the mirror.

“Bend over.”

“Steve that's not one of my stretches!” Tony started to protest, started to laugh and tell Steve that he didn't start his stretches with toe-touches, but then he saw how dark Steve's eyes were, the way the blue was almost swallowed up by the black and he changed his mind.

“Okay I'll just go ahead and bend right over, shall I?”

“Bend over.” Steve said firmly and shoved his fingers into the soft curls on the back of Tony's head before pushing down.

“Steve !” Tony yelped, but it was mostly for show because he knew Steve wouldn't really force him down, it was more about Steve asking with a firm touch and Tony giving in instantly, reaching with his fingers to touch his toes and sucking in a quick breath when Steve rocked against him. “Um should I do anything else? Or is this good?”

“Spread your legs.” Steve ordered and Tony widened his stance instantly, and this time when Steve rocked into him, the hard line of his cock pressed hot into Tony's crack, making him want to moan.

“Ah honey, that's good.” Steve rasped. “I love this--this-- whatever you're wearing.”

“It's a bodysuit .” Tony supplied helpfully, and Steve shook his head.

“Don't bodysuits have snaps right here?” He pushed his hand between Tony's spread legs, cupping Tony's cock briefly then dragging his fingers behind it to press at his hole, and Tony's knees almost gave out.

“It's a leotard, then?” Tony panted, and tried to rock back into Steve's fingers.

“Leotards aren't half this sexy.” Steve disagreed, working his fingers against Tony steadily now, watching the brunette try to arch his back, try to stand on his toes so Steve could get closer and deeper .

“I don't care what it is.” Tony groaned. “Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

“Is that what you want?” Steve pushed the stretchy material to the side so he could get his hands on Tony's skin. “Want me to fuck you right here? In front of the mirror?”

“Holy…. it's so hot to hear you swear like that.” Tony gasped and then shrieked when Steve pushed his index finger right into him, the dry slide making him cry out.

“Lube. Bag. Please .” He panted.

“You planned this.” Steve's voice was so low it made Tony shudder. “Planned to be doing yoga in front of me in this stupid outfit. Cut down to your navel, flashing your ass like some kind of whore.”

“Oh fuck.” Tony bit his lip until it bled, basically helpless bent in half like this, Steve rubbing his cock over him, working his finger in and out of Tony's body. “Steve please .”

“What did you think was gonna happen?” Steve pulled himself from his workout shorts, pushing the thick head of his cock against Tony's entrance. “Did you think I was just going to watch and leave and not say anything?”

“I thought---” Tony gave a full body shudder when he felt the heavy cock flex against him. “I thought maybe you would--”

“I'm sure you did.” Steve murmured, and reached for the lube in the front pocket of Tony's bag. “Hands flat on the floor.”

“Aren't you going to-- fuck !” Tony nearly yelled when Steve poured lube down the cleft of his ass, then shoved deep inside. “Fuck Steve slow down!”

“Oh damn it .” Steve rocked into him, groaning loudly. “Ah sweetheart you are so good like, so tight. Gonna fuck you in front of these mirrors, yeah? Just like they do in those filthy movies we watch in bed?”

“Goddamnit.” Tony bit out, trying to force his body to relax. Yes, he had prepped a little before starting this whole yoga experiment-- and of course he knew Steve never would have taken him like this without knowing that he was at least a little stretched-- but taking all of Steve in one go was difficult even after being opened, but without hardly any prep---

“Ah shit. Alright, come on.” Tony groaned when the burn started to lessen. “You feel good babe, come on I'm ready for you.”

Tony flattened his hands on the floor and steadied himself as Steve pulled from him slowly, carefully, easing every inch of himself from Tony's body.

“Brace yourself.” Steve said with a chuckle that sound entirely wrong with how gentle his voice was. “This is gonna be rougher than I usually am with you, baby.”

“It's alright, Steve, I tru--”

Tony screamed when Steve shoved back into him, then withdrew just as fast their hips slamming together over and over as Steve took him hard and fast, spreading his legs and forcing Tony to keep still, fingers digging bruises into Tony's waist.

“God dammit you're so good like this.” Steve was running one hand down Tony's back, scratching at the black leotard, shoving it further to the side of his ass to bare more skin. “So beautiful, Tony look at you. Acting so bad, trying to tease me.”

“Yes .” Tony moaned and dropped his head to the floor, lifting on his toes so Steve could reach even deeper inside him, each stroke of his cock sending shocks down Tony's legs. “Just trying to tease you. Want you to go a little crazy on me. Always so gentle.”

“How's this for gentle?” Steve growled and bunched the leotard in his hand, twisting and jerking roughly so it tore and Tony cried out as it pulled hard before giving, then cried out in relief as his cock sprang free.

“Don't even think about it.” Steve smacked Tony's hand away when he tried to touch himself. “You're gonna come on my cock and only my cock, you hear me?”

“Then hurry up and make me come!” Tony howled and Steve sped his thrusts up, shifting in small strokes until he knew he was hitting that perfect spot inside Tony every time, until Tony was just babbling incoherently, mixing please with harder and perfect, until Steve was sweating, gasping, cursing under his breath and out loud, sweet names and filthy things tumbling from his lips with every thrust, every push inside Tony's perfect body.

“Goddamn it you're perfect .” Steve moaned. “Look at you. Come for me, Tony, come for me come for me comeoncomeoncomeon…”

Tony clenched his hands into fists, his legs trembling as he yelled through his release, making a mess all over the floor, trying to stay standing but he couldn't, couldn't stay upright and his knees started shaking and he dropped onto all fours, Steve pulling out just in time to catch him, easing him to the floor gently.

“Steve.” Tony groaned and arched his back, letting Steve push his head to the floor. “Steve yes more.”

“You're damn right, more.” Steve breathed and slid right back in, easier this time, yanking Tony back against his cock with each push, staring at the picture they made in the mirror-- Steve slick with sweat, blue eyes flashing, muscles rippling as he held Tony down, and Tony still half covered with the tattered leotard, eyes shut tight, biting at his lips desperately, fingers scratching the floor as he couldn't decide whether to try and get away or try to push back into his boyfriend and fuck Steve didn't think he'd even seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Gonna come in you Tony, gonna fucking fill you up and make you clean up my come with this stupid leotard.” Steve rasped and Tony rolled his hips and moaned low and filthy. “Tell me you want it, tell me you want me tell me tell me---”

“Want you.” Tony wailed. “Come on baby want you like this in the fucking gym, on the floor make a fucking mess in me babe come on come--”

Steve ground their hips together one last time and dropped his head back, shouting as he came hard, pulsing deep inside Tony until his come was spilling out between them, then he jerked away, stroking over himself to spill over Tony's back and down the curve of his ass.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Tony. Goddamnit.” Steve couldn't stop swearing, couldn't stop praising Tony, leaning his head between Tony's shoulders and and running his hands up his sides.

“Oh Tony I love you. I love you, honey, that was so amazing. Was I too rough on you? Baby I'm so sorry if I was too rough on you I just couldn't help myself-- didn't want to stop--”

“You were perfect.” Tony mumbled and smiled tiredly. “Five seconds after some of our best sex and you are already apologizing for it. Something wrong with this picture, Steve.”

“I just don't ever want to hurt you, sweetheart.” Steve whispered and kissed over his back gently. “I don't know why you're doing this whole super sexy thing lately, but I love it and it's so wonderful to feel like we can lose a little control together.”

“Always.” Tony said and laced his fingers through Steve's over his stomach. “I love you too, babe. So much.”

“I'm sorry about your outfit.” Steve said a little mournfully. “It sure was pretty while it lasted.”

“Steve.” Tony laughed and pushed back so Steve would give him some room to stretch. “I've learned not to wear anything around either of you that I can't replace. The habit of tearing my clothes is so hot, I refuse to mad about it.”

“Love you.” Steve said again, and pulled his shorts back over his waist. “Let me clean this up, and I'll get you a towel and carry you upstairs.”

“Mmmm.” Tony rolled onto his back and laughed a little. “Favorite thing about dating super soldiers. Getting carried everywhere.”

He groaned a little as he shifted, knowing he was going to be outrageously sore after this.

Looks like it would have to be a few days before he got to try out the outfit he picked for Bucky.

Damn shame, that.

#tease #stuckony #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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flowerfan2 · 7 years

Text

Close to You - Ch. 7/11

Stucky, M, 24k so far, A03

Although Steve and Bucky are finally in the same place, they aren’t as close as they would like. And Steve’s having trouble being close to anyone.

Chapter 7

The next morning Bucky wakes up to a sloppy kiss on his cheek, accompanied by the unmistakable odor of sweaty Steve.

“Get up. It’s beautiful out. I want to go canoeing.”

Steve informs Bucky that he’s already been out for a run (fifteen miles back and forth along one side of the lake, he could have gone further, but didn’t want Bucky to worry) and Bucky had better be ready to go by the time he gets out of the shower, or he’s taking a boat out by himself.

An hour later (Bucky convinced Steve that having some coffee first was an acceptable delay) Steve picks up one of the canoes, flips it over, and deposits it easily into the lake, the stern resting on the sand. Bucky gets the paddles, and they slide it out into the water. There’s a tricky moment as Bucky steps in to the canoe and Steve almost overcompensates, but they keep their balance, and they’re soon paddling away from the shore.

It’s a nice view, Bucky thinks, watching Steve’s back as he paddles, muscles rippling under his clingy t-shirt with each stroke. It’s still early, and the lake is quiet, except for the swooshing sound of their paddles in and out of the water.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm, and after a while Steve turns to grin at Bucky.

“You’re good at this,” he says. “Didn’t know if you’d like it.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t you remember all those days at our beach house when we were kids?”

Steve looks concerned at the thought that Bucky’s memories might be even more screwed up than he had feared, but then chuckles. “Don’t tease me. My memories of our sainted childhood are precious, but they don’t involve any form of water sports.” Steve digs his paddle just a bit harder into the water, sending spray up towards Bucky.

“Oh, sorry. Guess I got us confused with Tony. Or maybe Thor – he was the one you had your romantic boating date with, wasn’t he?”

Steve turns and grins again. “Jealous, Buck? Hey, is that why you devised this whole plan?”

Bucky flushes a little – it wasn’t the reason, but he couldn’t swear Steve’s story about his day on the lake with Thor hadn’t made an impression on him.

Steve twists more, trying to get a good look at him, and the canoe rocks violently. Steve shifts quickly to try to stop it from tipping, but his center of gravity is too high and over they go.

It’s icy cold, despite the warm day, and the weight of Bucky’s arm drags him down under the surface for a long moment. Just as he starts to kick Steve grabs him around the waist and hauls him up.

“Buck? Shit, you okay?”

Bucky sputters and coughs. Steve’s holding him close against his body, a panicked look on his face.

“I’m fine-”

“You went under so fast – Buck…” Steve holds Bucky tighter, his other hand firmly gripping the edge of the canoe. His legs knock against Bucky’s as he treads water.

“Steve, I’m okay. I’m fine. I can swim, you know.”

Steve stares at him, perhaps remembering that the last time they were in the water, it was Bucky dragging Steve to safety.

“Oh. Right. Of course you can.” Now Steve looks embarrassed, in addition to bearing a striking resemblance to a wet dog. With really nice shoulders.

“But thanks for rescuing me.” Bucky smiles at Steve, and rubs his cold nose against Steve’s cheek. “It was very gallant of you.”

Steve ducks his head, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Fancy words, Bucky.”

Bucky shrugs, and then presses a chilly kiss to Steve’s mouth. Steve stills, his legs drifting against Bucky’s, and then kisses back, his hot tongue darting out to lick Bucky’s lips.

Bucky wraps an arm around Steve’s waist, bringing them chest to chest, but then a shiver runs through Bucky’s body and Steve pulls back.

“You’re cold.”

“Well, yeah.”

Steve shakes his head. “Guess we better get out of the water.”

“Guess so.”

They bicker for a while about the best way to get back into the canoe, Bucky pointing out that since Steve was the one that got them into this mess that he might not actually have the best advice on the subject, but they finally both drag themselves in without capsizing again. Luckily their paddles hadn’t drifted far, and after some further negotiation, they manage to hand paddle over to recover them and get themselves moving back towards shore.

“Bet you didn’t have this much fun when you went canoeing with Thor,” Bucky says.

Steve twists back towards him, grinning when the movement makes the canoe nearly tip over again. “No, you’re right. I certainly did not.”

They’re back on land and walking up towards the house, still dripping, when Bucky stops Steve with a hand to his arm.

“There’s a hot tub.”

Steve tilts his head at Bucky, considering. “I’ve never been in a hot tub.”

“Me neither.”

The hot tub is up on the deck, off to one side. It’s controlled by a complicated looking panel, but it turns out that lake house Jarvis heard their conversation as they neared the house and soon offers to walk them through getting it ready to use.

Bucky’s shivering pretty hard by the time the hot tub is uncovered and heated up. It’s a little odd actually – he can feel cold, but it doesn’t usually affect him so much. Steve helps Bucky tug off his wet sweatshirt and jeans and he slides in quickly as soon as Jarvis says he can. Steve strips down to his boxers as well and climbs in after him. Without hesitation, Steve seats himself next to Bucky, an arm around his shoulders.

“Guess early May in Vermont isn’t a great time to go canoeing,” Steve says by way of explanation. He’s rubbing his hand over Bucky’s flesh shoulder, apparently not minding the way Bucky’s cool metal arm is pressed against his chest.

“Nah, it was fun.”

“I’m surprised the serum doesn’t keep you warmer.”

Bucky shrugs. “All that cryo felt cold enough.”

Steve’s movements stutter, but then he resumes his comforting strokes, pulling Bucky closer against him. “I’ll warm you up, okay?” he murmurs against Bucky’s hair.

Bucky feels like he’s melting against Steve, despite his shivering. “Okay. Thanks.” He closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy the feeling of Steve all around him, his back against Steve’s solid chest, Steve’s arms around his body.

He has completely lost track of time and everything, really, when the hot tub’s buzzer goes off.

“I think I fell asleep,” Steve says after a long moment, stretching his feet out under the water. “Still nice and warm in here, though.”

Bucky presses his face into Steve’s neck. “Too comfy. Don’t want to move.”

“We’re not supposed to stay in for more than half an hour,” Steve says, gently pushing Bucky’s hair back over his forehead. “Time to get out.”

They drag themselves out of the hot tub and into the house. Bucky’s limbs feel loose and floaty. Even his metal arm doesn’t seem to drag at his shoulder as much as it usually does.

He throws himself down on the couch, ignoring Steve’s protests over getting the furniture wet.

“Cretin,” Steve chides, tossing him a towel from the bathroom. When Bucky ignores it, Steve stomps over and whacks him with another towel. Bucky just hides his head under a pillow as Steve laughs at him. Finally Steve gives up and, after cursorily drying himself off, lies on the couch alongside Bucky.

“I’m gonna tell Tony this is your fault,” Bucky says, squirming to make space for Steve. He’s ridiculously big, but luckily the couches are oversized as well.

“He’ll never believe you,” Steve says. He’s lying mostly on his back, a hand propped behind his head. His pecs are round and firm and he tilts just enough to press his side right up against Bucky.

“You make things very difficult, you know,” Bucky says. He almost flinches when he hears what he said, but apparently Steve gets it, and takes his words in the manner in which they were intended.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Bucky could swear Steve flutters his eyelashes as he says this, and flexes his chest muscles just enough for Bucky to see.

It’s an invitation, Bucky knows it is, but he’s still hesitant when it comes to things they haven’t done before. Even things they have done before don’t always go as intended. And making out mostly naked on the couch in broad daylight definitely feels different, especially with the way Steve is looking at him, heated and sure. It’s intense.

Bucky only needs to incline his head a little bit before his lips touch Steve’s, and then Steve is shifting, cupping the back of Bucky’s head and kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

Bucky grabs Steve’s shoulder, runs his hand over his skin, down his arm and then to his waist. Steve is attacking his mouth, then kissing along his jaw and around to his neck, biting and teasing. Bucky presses his hand to the small of Steve’s back to pull them closer. He can feel Steve’s muscles moving under his hand, Steve’s chest against his own, his hands in Bucky’s hair.

They have somehow kept their hips apart, but then Steve rocks towards him, and Bucky freezes. He’s trapped between the back of the couch and Steve’s solid form, and it’s if the air has suddenly been sucked right out of the room.

Steve can tell immediately that something’s wrong. “Buck?” Steve slides away, landing on his knees next to the couch. He takes Bucky’s hand in his, and squeezes it until Bucky focuses on him. “Buck? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I…”

Steve’s smile is at odds with the worry in his eyes. “No, it’s all right. It’s all right. Don’t apologize.”

“I don’t know what happened… we can… we can keep going,” Bucky says, but he can hear how his voice wobbles.

“Nah, let’s take a break. It’s okay.” Steve pushes himself up and waves at the couch. “Okay if I sit with you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Bucky turns and pulls his knees up against his chest, and Steve sits next to him, moving slowly. Telegraphing his moves, Bucky thinks. He feels like an idiot. He’s not supposed to be the one with the problem.

“Steve, I’m sorry,” he starts again, but Steve isn’t having any of it.

“Shush.” Steve pulls the throw blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over both of them. “Come a little closer?”

Bucky leans his shoulder against Steve, closes his eyes, and tries to calm his breathing. Steve tucks the blanket around him and pets him, fingers in his still wet hair, and Bucky sighs. What a fucking pair they make.

*****

They don’t talk about Bucky’s little freak out. Instead Steve lets them both pretend that Steve is still the only reason they aren’t having sex like bunnies. Their routine continues much as it has, Bucky looking after Steve, making sure he gets as much sleep as he wants and feeding him whenever he wakes up.

But Steve is sleeping less, now, and getting more interested in seeing what else they can do to entertain themselves. He goes for a run every morning, and starts dragging Bucky with him as well. They don’t venture back out on the lake for a few days, but they attempt a few long hikes, and discover a pretty little stream where Steve sits and draws for most of one sunny afternoon while Bucky messes around with the bow and arrow Clint gave him.

Cuddling in bed at night has, much to Bucky’s delight, become a regular event as well. Steve still gives Bucky his good night kiss, and then more often than not another one. Bucky takes a turn as well, which usually leads to a making out session that is more sweet than heated. Steve likes to fall asleep with his head on Bucky’s chest, tucked against his neck, his arm flung over Bucky’s waist. It’s good, and neither of them push it any further.

Bucky makes it through two biweekly Skype sessions with Prisha without mentioning the day in the canoe, but finally she asks a pointed enough question that he has to work to think of a truthful way to answer it without revealing too much. She can tell that he’s hiding something, and calls him on it. “Can we talk about it next time?” he asks.

“Of course,” she replies. “But you get that this doesn’t work unless you tell me what’s going on, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Are you sure?”

Prisha laughs, and Bucky can’t help but grin in response. “Pretty sure.” She pauses, tilting her head. “Have you talked to Steve about it?”

“He knows.”

“Become a mind reader, has he?”

Bucky looks over to the bedroom door, closed tight while he sits on the bed for his call with Prisha. “No, but he knows.”

“Do you think he’s worried about it?”

Bucky taps his metal fingers on the side of the screen. Apparently Prisha is a mind reader, never mind Steve. “’Course he’s worried. He worries about everything.”

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but wasn’t part of the reason for this trip supposed to be reducing his anxiety?”

Bucky winces. “So now it’s my fault?”

“I’m certain I didn’t say that. But if you know Steve’s worried about you, and there’s something you can do to ease his worry, you might want to do it.”

“What if talking about it only makes him more worried?”

Prisha gives him that ‘haven’t you learned anything yet look.’

“I know, he’s probably just as worried about the fact that we haven’t talked about it than about the issue itself, right, right.”

“Well, then, you know what your homework for next time is.”

Bucky never liked homework much.

*****

They’re getting dinner ready that night, Bucky slicing a cucumber while Steve plays with the salad spinner (it really doesn’t need to be spun for quite so long, but Steve likes the sound it makes), when, to Bucky’s surprise, Steve raises the issue.

“I think maybe we should talk about the other day on the couch.”

Bucky doesn’t need to ask which day. “Prisha kind of yelled at me for not saying anything yet.”

Steve looks at him sharply. “She shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Relax, she didn’t actually yell. She never yells. She just told me to talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Bucky’s comment seems to have derailed Steve’s opening, and he’s half hoping they can just move on to whether they want to mix up some vinaigrette or use the bottle of blue cheese dressing from the fridge when Steve tries again.

“I don’t ever want to make you feel that way, Buck,” Steve says softly. His hands have stilled on the salad spinner, and he turns to look at Bucky, eyes wide and nervous. “You need to help me understand what I did, so I don’t do it again.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I must have, or-”

Bucky walks a few steps away from Steve, clenching his fists. He doesn’t want to argue. “It wasn’t you.” Never you. You’re the good thing, you dolt.

Steve follows him, an intent look on his face. “Fine. It wasn’t me.” He’s working to keep his voice calm, although he’s clearly upset, and it makes Bucky’s stomach hurt. “Come on, Buck, talk to me.”

Bucky walks out through the sliding glass door to the deck, looking back to make sure Steve is following him. He is. They wind up looking out over the lake, leaning on the railing. The sun is setting, and it’s beautiful, but Bucky can hardly see it. He takes several long, deep breaths, letting the fresh air and the scent of the pine trees soothe him.

Steve has relaxed a bit, too, and Bucky concentrates on how good it feels to be near him. He’s got on a plaid shirt over his t-shirt, unbuttoned, and Bucky aches to just curl up into him and hide from the world. But he knows he can’t.

“Buck?”

He looks at Steve, blue eyes so sincere, and nods. “Yeah?”

“Maybe it was the situation. Just – things that were happening that day, all of them together. Not just me, or you,” Steve says.

This sounds possible. “Maybe.”

“We could… try to identify what was going on, so I – so we – can avoid it next time, or, at least, you know, be better prepared.”

Bucky stares out at the lake, remembers going out in the canoe that morning, the sun shining in Steve’s hair. Steve twisting to look at him, making the boat rock.

“I was already feeling… off,” Bucky says.

“From falling into the lake.”

Bucky doesn’t want to admit it. He’s fallen into bodies of water before, and always lived to tell the tale. He can swim. He jumped off the helicarrier and pulled Steve out of that river, goddamn it. But as soon as he thinks about it, lets the idea form in his head, he knows it’s true.

“Yeah. Falling in… freaked me out.”

He can feel Steve practically twitch next to him. They’re going to have a field day with Prisha next time. Probably not so hard to predict that Bucky might have a tiny bit of PTSD related to falling.

But that wasn’t it, not all of it, and he forces himself to keep going. “And - being so cold. That hit me hard, too.”

Steve nods solemnly. “Like cryo.” It’s ridiculous that they can even say things like this, that being forced into cryo over and over is just something they can talk about. But, apparently, they can.

Bucky shrugs. “Doesn’t make sense. Winter doesn’t bother me, not like that.”

“Maybe the combination of wet and cold? And surprise?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Bucky sighs. “But the hot tub felt great.”

“You really were really relaxed.” Steve turns towards him. “Then we got carried away on the couch. You were already feeling vulnerable, and I kind of cornered you.”

Bucky’s throat is closing up. “You didn’t mean…”

“I know. But I’m a big guy, and there wasn’t a lot of space there.”

Bucky sniffs hard, and presses his flesh hand to his eyes.

“Is that what happened, Buck?” Steve asks.

“I felt like I couldn’t move,” Bucky whispers.

Steve inches closer and Bucky leans into him, hides his face against Steve’s flannel covered shoulder until he no longer feels like he’s about to burst into tears.

“It’s all right. You’re all right.” Steve rubs his back and sighs against his head. “I hate that I made you feel that way. But it’s good we talked about it, right?”

“Yeah, okay.” Bucky nods into Steve’s shirt, and realizes this isn’t exactly an unusual position for them to be in these days, one of them curled up against the other. Touching almost everywhere, holding each other close. “You know, you’ve gotten pretty good at this.” He snuggles into Steve’s chest to make his point.

Steve’s hand slows on Bucky’s shoulder, traces the collar of his shirt. “Can I tell you something?”

Bucky pulls back and finds his eyes. “Of course.”

“For every time this works,” Steve rocks into Bucky with a sad smile, “there’s another time when it doesn’t. When I see you sitting at the table, laughing at something you’re reading, and I want so badly to touch you. But I can’t. Or when you’re on the couch watching television and I want you to tug me down next to you and wrap your arms around me,” Steve’s voice cracks, “but I sit down in the chair instead.”

“Hey,” Bucky says, “hey, it’s all right.” He pulls Steve into a hug, and they cling to each other wordlessly. After a few moments Steve sighs and extracts himself from Bucky’s arms, going back to leaning on the railing and staring out at the lake.

“It’s exhausting, isn’t it?” Bucky asks, and Steve looks at him curiously. “All this talking.”

“Yeah.” Steve cracks a smile. “Wanna go down in the basement and hit something?”

Bucky laughs, and pushes off the railing. “Sounds like a plan.”

#stucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Post CACW #Captain America #Marvel fic #My fic

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hey-kids-want-some-avengers · 7 years

Note

(for the cahrecter kink meme) how about sub steve and bondage? (Can be stucky, Stevexreader, or stevex whoever you want, depends on what you want to do)

Attending Needs.

A/N: sure thing! I went with reader because why not? I do have a weakness for sub Steve though so y'all can probably expect more and a plethora of pairings. Enjoy my sin!_____________________________________

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, language, pure porn, sub!steve, Dom!reader, nipple play kinda, oral, bondage, orgasm denial, unprotected sex(WRAP UP YO DINGY DONG KIDS), dirty talk

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

You grinned as you nipped at Steve’s earlobe playfully, successfully drawing a long, desperate whine from his plump, kiss swollen lips. His eyes were hooded, pupils blown and his cheeks flushed from arousal. “Y/N,” he gasped softly, exhaling sharply through his nose when you gripped the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, hanging low and loose on his hips. You gave him a few light and teasing pumps, licking your lips at the growing damp spot on his pants from where the head of his cock was pressed against it uncomfortably before slowly stopping.

“Gonna fuck myself on your cock, Steve,” you breathed, running your palm over the angry head of his dick, enjoying the interested jerk it made, Steve’s head falling back in response.

“Yes, please,” Steve mumbled, head already foggy and hazed with sex. He’d given into the begging and moaning a while ago, after you’d gotten him hard, grinding the curve of your ass into him, his wrists bound tightly above his head while you teased. You knew just what to do to turn him into a submissive, moaning mess, kissing and sucking on his neck, ordering him, using him, marking him up before they faded the next day like they always did with Steve.

You grinned, humming in your throat as you tweaked Steve’s nipple with your other hand, continuing until he was whining and rocking his hips up. His skin was flushed with sweat and a deep blush from his ears to his chest, his nipples hard and sensitive. “Think about how good it’ll feel to have your pretty dick in my tight cunt,” you purred, leaning down to latch onto his overstimulated nipple with you hot mouth, suckling and giving it small nips and teasing little kitten licks with the cool tip of your tongue, enjoying the way it drove him crazy, pulling more needy sounds from his throat.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, screwing his eyes shut and tangling his hands in the sheets where his wrists had been restrained to the sides of the bed, clenching the fabric in his hands until his knuckles went white. You could easily make him come like this, you had before, but right now you wanted him buried in you, for you to come on his cock, drawing every last moan from his lips and then maybe do it again and again, until he was spent and breathless.

“Would you like that?” You teased, pulling back from his chest and blowing a puff of cool air over the sensitive bud.

Steve’s face flushed darker and he nodded in a forced and stiff movement.

“Let me hear you say it, Stevie,” You pressed the heel of your hand into the outline of his dripping, angry cock for emphasis.

“Yes,” he breathed out shakily, voice catching up an octave as he forced the words out. You could feel his legs trembling under the tension that had been building. “Please, Y/N, I want it so bad.”

“Good boy,” you smirked, kissing him slow and filthy, licking into his mouth and tugging at his bottom lip before deciding you’d had enough. You moved down his body quickly, kissing lightly over his hip bone before carefully tugging his sweats down over his hips and around his thighs. His boxers were wet in front with smears of precum, his dick straining against the fabric, arching up and filling with the new space and lack of constriction in his boxers.

You mouthed along the outline of him, breathing out slowly over the curve of it and licking where his head was pressed uncomfortably. He shuddered and arched his back up in response, making a breathy noise through his parted lips.

“Look at you, look at how wet you are just for me,” you smirked, mouthing your way up the underside of his cock, fondling his heavy balls through the dip in his underwear. Teasing Steve until he was a moaning, begging mess, got you wet and throbbing like nothing else. The times he’d tried to dominate you, take control and make you feel like the world was coming down had never been like what they were when you took control, showed Steve how good he made you feel, how good you could make him feel. He slipped into it easily.

You lightly squeezed at the base of his cock, drawing a startled gasp from him. “Mm, lemme taste you baby,” you breathed. You slowly tugged his boxers down with his pants, his length red and angry, slapping against his stomach and smearing precum with relief.

“Shit,” Steve groaned in a huff, twisting his wrists against the ties. “Please Y/N, I fucking need you,” he begged, rolling his hips up even after you’d pulled away.

You grinned, licking your lips and kissing his cock head, letting Steve’s eyes roll back in his head with a long, drawn out moan. You continued licking and kissing the head of his cock, tasting the precum that had started to leak continuously. You moaned softly in your throat, taking his length into your mouth and swirling your tongue over the tip, your hand pumping his base slowly and teasingly, running a finger delicately along his taint.

Steve bucked his hips up, rocking back and forth desperately, trying to work you further down on his cock. “Oh my god, fuck,” he gasped while you took him deeper and let spit and cum gather at the corner of your mouth. You moaned around him, letting the vibrations run through his dick, his hips jerking. “Shit, I’m gonna, Y/N,” he moaned, wrists pulling the restraints tight. His thighs tensed, unable to close or move besides flexing and a jerk of his hips, where they’d been spread open wide.

You hummed, pulling off with a pop and letting him whimper, hips lifted up in attempt to get your mouth back around him. “Ah, ah, ah, no coming until I’m fucking myself on your pretty dick, baby,” you grinned, nipping at his thigh teasingly.

Steve grunted softly in response. “Then ride me, please,” he moaned softly, cock hard and shinning with spit. His body was flushed, slick with a sheen of sweat, hair matted and stuck to his forehead. It was filthy and ridiculously hot to look at.

“Of course, Stevie,” you grinned, moving up and kissing him slowly, licking into his mouth so he could taste his own precum. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him when he was so pretty and begging, offering himself up to you so nicely like this.

Steve whined through the kiss, chest rising and falling with a steady pace if not slightly elevated. You moved over his body slowly, kissing a wet trail down his chest and stomach, stopping just above his navel. “You’re gonna feel so good, love your thick cock filling me up,” you purred sweetly, watching a blush spread over his face again, darker than before. You rolled your hips over him, rutting slowly until his dick was rubbing against your pussy, your juices slicking it, causing you both to gasp softly. His member continued sliding between your pussy lips, rubbing against your clit until you were dripping and your thighs were shaking.

“Please, no more, can’t–I need you now,” Steve rasped, his dick impossibly hard and dripping. You could tell he couldn’t take much more teasing before he’d be shaking with his orgasm one way or another.

You grinned, hushing him softly as you rose your hips, lining yourself up with his cock before slowly sinking down on his dick, moaning at the stretch as he filled your throbbing cunt, lubricated plenty by your own juices and his precum. “Mm, shit,” you groaned, grabbing your right breast and tweaking your nipple until it was sensitive and hard between your fingers.

You wasted no time before rising back up and thrusting yourself back down on his cock, both of you moaning out in ecstasy as you fucked yourself on Steve’s dick. His knuckles were white, muscles pulled taut as he breathed out sharply through his grit teeth at the overwhelming pleasure of your tight heat around him. Steve worked his hips in small rocking motions, trying to fuck himself deeper inside you until your body jerked with pleasure as he hit your g-spot, repeating it several times before rolling his hips with a whine.

“Y/N, you feel so good,” Steve moaned, eyes screwing shut as you continued to ride him, clenching down around him so you could drag him closer to his orgasm.

You moaned softly, gasping and whimpering in ways you knew went straight to his dick as you worked yourself quickly towards orgasm. You could tell he was close too, by the dark flush in his skin and his quick, breathy moans, practically panting as you clenched around him. “Yeah, you like that don’t you?” You teased, forcing him deeper inside you until the room was filled with moaning and skin slapping against skin.

“Fuck, yes,” Steve grit out, muttering curses under his breath as he tensed up for his oncoming orgasm.

“You feel so good, so fuckin’ good,” you panted, continuing up and down until he cried out, body spasming through his orgasm as he came inside you, body going slack against the bed and his restraints as he panted lazily after.

You moaned softly at the sight and feeling of him coming deep inside you. You were almost to your orgasm as you lay your palms flat on his chest and drove yourself fast and hard on his spent cock, drinking up the pathetic whimpering sounds he offered up as he became overstimulated, your cunt milking him of any come he had left. “Fuck, baby, you feel so damn good,” you gasped, nails scraping over his sweaty chest as you rode out your orgasm, shivering with the force of it as you slumped against his chest.

You both lay there for a while, breathing hard and your bodies hot and sticky with sweat, your pussy soaked with both your cum before you finally got off of him, untying his restraints and mouthing along his raw and lightly bruising wrists until he was humming lazily in contentment. You’d be more careful with him, watch to make sure he didn’t get bruised up, but he liked it that way and you weren’t one to complain.

“So good, Steve,” you muttered, kissing up his neck as he curled into himself a little, rubbing over his wrists and stretching his legs lazily.

“Mm,” he breathed in response, his body lazy and placid.

“You good?” You asked carefully, pulling back to look at him.

Steve huffed softly after you moved, hand grabbing your wrist to tug you down lazily so you could fit your body against his. “Good, so good,” he slurred tiredly. You grinned and kissed the shell of his ear before pulling the covers up over the two of you and nestling into his side. You could clean up later.

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chalantness · 6 years

Note

Romanogers, royal au (because I need more of this au in my life) #30 and #57 Thank you!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

30. Come to bed. Fuck me senseless. + 57. The blindfold tightens around your head.

13. Licking your fingers clean of her.+ royal ‘verse - requested by an anon

133. Turn around and wait for me. - requested by @swietek93

Also inspired by this gif (nsfw).

(six sexy secret words meme)

He practically rips her out of her dress, dropping it to the floor with a tug of his lips as he sits back on the armchair, and she laughs and shakes her head. She knows she must be grinning like an idiot, but she doesn’t quite care right now. A few hours to herself has been almost impossible to squeeze in with the way her days have been scheduled to the minute, practically. But with her appearance canceled and her flight pushed back due to weather, suddenly she and Steve have an entire morning and a hotel suite for themselves.

So, yes, she thinks she’s allowed to be a little giddy about the change of plans.

“You know,” she says, sliding herself onto his lap as his hands come around to undo the clasp of her bra, “I think my mother may be onto us.”

He pauses, glancing up at her, lips pressed together in a smile he’s trying to fight. “Is that really where your thoughts are right now?” he asks, sliding her bra off and tossing it to the floor with her dress. She laughs and leans in, slanting her lips over his. Okay, she realizes how it might be inappropriate to bring up her mother right now: when she’s in nothing but her panties and straddling his lap, his hard length pressing against her through his dress slacks.

“I’m just saying.” She nips at his lip as his hands come around her hips and grasp at her ass, grinding her against his leg. She moans, tipping her head back. “That might explain why we can’t ever get a second together anymore.”

He wraps his lips around one of her nipples, humming as he gives it a gentle suck. “Or perhaps it’s because your adoring public can’t get enough of you.” She feels him smirk against her breast. “I certainly know I’ll never have my fill.”

She twists her fingers in his hair, tugging his head back to look at her, and he licks his lips.

Oh, this man is going to be the death of her.

“You shouldn’t talk about your princess like that,” she says, one eyebrow arched, though she knows her expression isn’t as stern as she’s pretending to be. but she couldn’t care less. Not with the way he’s still guiding her hips over his, her arousal soaking through the front of her panties and onto his slacks. “I’m not some object for the people’s pleasure, or for yours, either.”

His eyes flash, and there’s a challenge in the way his lips quirk. But, his tone is one of perfect innocence as he says, “My apologies, Your Highness.”

(And it’s stupid, how completely sexy he sounds whenever he calls her that: with his voice low and gravelly, and maybe just a little bit dangerous.)

“Perhaps I’ll forgive you,” she says, leaning in to graze her lips over the apple of his cheek, and she smiles when she feels his grip tighten on her hips, “if you make amends.” She nips at the underside of his jaw, then licks at her teeth marks, teasing her tongue against his skin. “Come to bed. Fuck me senseless. And then maybe I’ll be willing to overlook your presumptuous tongue.”

She slides off of his lap and onto her feet, relishing in the way his eyes trace down her body as she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and pushes them down her legs. He stands up, grasps her chin with his fingers. “If you would be so kind, Your Highness,” he starts, running his thumb over her lower lip, “I have a small request.” She raises her eyebrows. He leans in and whispers, right into her ear: “Sit on the bed, turn around and wait for me.”

Her heart skips, and she bites down on her lower lip, holding his gaze.

“Very well then,” she says, surprised by how steady her voice comes out as she steps back. She holds his gaze for a moment longer, watching his eyes fall to her lips for a moment, and she licks them, turning around and walking into the bedroom.

Her pulse is thrumming as she lowers herself onto the bed, her back to the doorway as she twists her fingers into the duvet. She can hear him in the other room, can hear the soft rustle of fabric and the clatter of his belt as he starts undressing. She bites her lower lip, imagining the flex of his muscles as he shrugs out of his shirt, imagining her fingers tracing down the V of his hips as he pushes his pants off. She licks her lips, remembering the dark, stormy look in his eyes the other night, when she’d sunken to her knees in front of him in the limo. Remembering the way he’d groaned out her name as she licked the underside of his length, closing her lips around the tip and sucking gently.

Then she sucks in a gasp as she feels something soft being draped over her eyes, Steve’s voice soft and steady as he murmurs, “It’s me, love.” He kisses her hair, tightening the blindfold (probably his tie, based on how silky it feels) around her head and knotting it into place. It’s tight, but not uncomfortable, and it should be ridiculous how sexy she feels right now.

His hand slides over her hips, making her jump, and she tips her head back against his shoulder as his fingers slide between her legs. Fuck, she’s wet.

“This still feels like it’s about your pleasure, Mr. Rogers,” she says, her voice breathy and a little shaky as he strokes into her wetness.

He brushes a kiss to her shoulder. “Trust me, Princess. This is all about you.” He grasps her arms, gently maneuvering her onto her knees and further toward the center of the mattress, and then the bed dips as he slides underneath her.

She’s not sure if it’s because of the blindfold or if she’s just that sensitive, but it feels as if his touch is burning into her skin. His hand slides over the small of her back, guiding her to lower herself until his lips are grazing her slick folds. It draws a mewl from her lips, and she digs her nails into the duvet, fighting the urge to grind into his mouth.

Then he licks a broad stripe up her center, flicking at her clit, and she throws her head back in a moan. She wishes she could grasp onto a headboard, or anything to stable herself, because she’s certain she’s about to be reduced to a quivering, shaking mess with the way his tongue is lapping at her.

He groans, making her body jolt as she tips her head back in a moan. He flicks at her clit once, twice, three times, then takes it between his lips and sucks.

“S-Steve,” she breathes, a white-hot tingle sliding down her spine, coiling tighter and tighter in her stomach.

She knows that Steve knows how to make her come in minutes, and with the way they sneak around, they usually need to keep things quick.

But right now, she knows Steve is teasing her, savoring her every little shudder and sigh, drawing out every moan and whimper. Because they can actually take their time right now, and she knows he’s sure as hell going to take advantage of that. It’s just the two of them here, and they have hours to themselves before they have to get ready to fly home, and just the thought of it is enough to make her come undone. They haven’t had this kind of time alone since they’d gone to the cabin over winter, and Steve had fucked every ounce of energy out of her, taking her on every surface, and the cabin had practically been in shambles.

(She can only imagine the state they’ll leave this hotel room in.)

“Oh, oh,” she moans, her entire body shuddering as she grinds down on his lips. She’s close, so close -

But then Steve eases his lips off of her, digs his fingers into her ass as she bows forward, bracing herself on her forearms. He takes a soft, almost tentative lick, her walls fluttering and tightening, and his groan makes her folds tingle.

“Fuck.” He flicks at her clit and her body jolts. “You taste perfect, love.”

She’s buzzing, tingling, and she grinds against his mouth, needing more. If she took off her blindfold, she knows she’d find him watching her with that twinkle in his eyes, his lips glistening, his expression dazed. But, as much as she loves to watch him, she kind of loves this a little more right now. Her every sense feels heightened, his silk tie cool against her flushed skin.

Then he wraps his lips around her bundle of nerves again, sucking gently as he sinks two fingers into her, thrusting, curling, and she muffles her moan into the duvet. He circles his tongue over her clit again and again, thrusting his fingers a little faster, and she’s there, right there -

“Steve,” she whimpers, white-hot pleasure shooting through her veins as her orgasm bursts over her.

He groans, sounding every bit as wrecked as she feels, and he keeps lapping at her as she unravels at the seams. Her hips are jerking and rolling into his tongue, her walls fluttering around his fingers as her body trembles through her high.

She lets out a mewl from the back of her throat as he pulls his fingers from her and gently rolls them over, laying her onto her back. He slides his tie off from around her eyes and she blinks up at him, her vision blurring into focus as he takes his fingers into his mouth. Her heart skips as she watches him lick her slickness off, and this burst of warmth unfurls low in her stomach as she grasps his wrist and pulls his hand away to kiss him, whimpering at the taste of herself on his tongue.

“So,” he says, his voice low and thick, “am I forgiven, Your Highness?”

She smiles, kisses him a little harder, a little deeper. “I’m not sure,” she says as his lips tug into a smirk. “I think your princess needs more convincing.”

#romanogers #stev erogers #natasha romanoff #chanty writes #chanty's smut #xo stardust720 #swietek93 #anon #royal 'verse #six sexy words meme #six sexy words meme round 3

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

Breaking Things (Cap/Thor Quick Fic)

*********************

“Hey, come here for a minute.” Tony wrapped an arm around Bucky's waist and started pushing him towards the living room.

“What's up, sweet thing?” Bucky asked, blue eyes lighting mischievously. “Want to do it over the couch again?”

Tony pulled away and stared at his boyfriend for a full minute. “Buck. No, I don't want to do it over the couch. What are we, twelve? You can say sex.”

“Kay.” Bucky shrugged. “Want to sex over the couch again?”

“Some days I don't know why I love you.” Tony huffed. “Would you just go look?

“Fine.” Bucky bopped him on the nose and Tony swatted his hand away.

“I swear to God, Bucky you will sleep on the couch if you keep doing that.”

But Bucky wasn't listening, staring wide eyed into the living room. “Hey. Why isn’t Thor wearing anything?”

“Oh, he is. But the guy sleeps like he’s dead so I pulled his pants off after he passed out on the couch.” Tony said nonchalantly. “Serves him right for falling asleep in public.”

Bucky grinned, plopping onto a stool at the kitchen bar to wait. “So when are we expecting Steve? Because this must be something you did for Steve.”

“Of course it's for Steve. It's been a few days since he ran into a wall or broke a coffee cup while staring at Thunder Thighs out there, so he’s overdue.

“I just texted him with some bullshit excuse to come downstairs. I told him I needed to move a table, so Captain Helpful should be along any minute now.” Tony scooted between Bucky's legs to wait for the Captain, enjoying the feel of the soldier’s arms around him.

“I feel like I should be scolding you for stripping an unconscious man.” Bucky commented. “I mean, undressing Thor just because Steve is guaranteed to walk into a wall or something is still kind of edging the line of--”

“--shut up, here he comes!” Tony hit the floor in a split second, army crawling around the cupboard to peek in on the living room, and Bucky just stared down at him, mouth wide open. “Get your giant ass down here! I don't want Steve to see us.” Tony hissed.

“I've literally never seen you move that fast.” Bucky joined him on the floor. “I don't know whether to laugh or be impressed.” Tony just rolled his eyes and pointed to the door as Steve came in.

“Tony! What did you need help with?” he called, and on the couch, Thor stirred. “Tony!” Steve called again, sharper this time. “What did you need help with?”

“Steven.” Thor said as he woke up, his deep voice just above a rumble, a little bit hoarse from sleeping, a whole lot of sexy because Thor, and even Tony gulped at the sound.

“Oh. Oh my god, um--Hey. Hey Thor. Sorry I wouldn't have yelled--didn't know you were napping and--” Steve's mouth snapped shut, the nervous rambling cutting off with an audible pop when Thor sat up, brushing the blanket off his lap to reveal a tiny pair of briefs.

Decorated with little Captain Americas and Shields and Stars.

Thor was wearing Captain America underwear.

“Where did you--why are you--” Steve, poor hapless Steve, couldn't even get a sentence out, couldn't stop staring, his fist clenching and unclenching by his side. “What are you--what are you-- where on earth-- what are those?” he finally blurted, and promptly blushed at his own awkwardness.

“Oh!” Thor looked inordinately pleased and stood up to show them off, turning in a circle so Steve could see all of them, and all of him at the same time. “Anthony got them for me. He said the entire team wears them, and I always want to be part of the team.”

Tony dropped his face to the floor, trying hard to stifle his laughter, and Bucky sent him a wholly disapproving glare.

“Do you like them?” The blond giant asked eagerly, “Anthony assured me you appreciated when we all wore them. “

Steve closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand. “Yes.” he mumbled, barely audible. “Yes I like them.”

“Ah, excellent then.” Thor glanced around and then frowned. “You know, I was so certain I fell asleep with pants on. Steve, did you get in my pants?”

“What? What?” Steve yelped. “No! No I don't want to get in your pants!” He was almost yelling, and Thor just raised an eyebrow.

“I simply was asking if you moved my pants while I was napping. I did not mean to insinuate...anything. I am sorry that distresses you so much.”

“Goddammit.” Steve scrubbed his hands down his face, and Bucky elbowed Tony.

“He’s swearing. You might have broken him this time.”

“I kind of hope I did!” Tony looked way too excited, edging even further around the corner to keep watching. “This is like a soap opera! Blondes of Our Lives!”

“Are you alright, Steven?” Thor asked in concern. “You look rather hot.” He took two big steps forward, putting one hand on Steve's waist carefully, and reaching up to touch his face with the other, his fingers brushing across Steve's jaw, and the Captain gave a groan of relief.

“Oh, yes.” he sighed, and kissed Thor hard, sliding his fingers through the long hair and tugging firmly to keep him close. “God, I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you.” he mumbled, and pulled Thor even closer. “I just thought you didn't see how badly I want--oh oh oh no, oh fuck, you’re not kissing me back.”

Steve jerked away, stumbling back several steps. “Shit shit, Thor, I am so sorry, I thought you were gonna kiss me, so I kissed you first. Oh my god, oh my fucking god I am so sorry---” he kept apologizing, cursing and swearing as he backed away and Tony finally frowned.

“I kind of want to laugh because he swears like a little old church lady all excited to drop the f-bomb but I'm also worried I might have pushed a little too far. I think maybe we did break him.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Bucky hissed. “And it was you, not me, so don't try to drag me into your shenanigans.”

Steve was still apologizing, still trying to leave, trying to escape, but Thor--Thor was grinning, and following Steve across the room, nearly stalking him towards the wall.

“Captain.” he caught up to him and wrapped a thick arm around Steve's shoulders, yanking him flush against his body with a quick pull. “I was only checking your temperature, because you looked unwell. But perhaps give me a chance to kiss you back, before you get upset, hm?”

“You--you want to kiss me?” Steve asked dubiously, and Thor didn't bother replying, just urged him even closer, and slotted their mouths together for a long moment, cupping Steve's face tenderly.

“Holy shit.” Bucky breathed “Look at the blondies go.”

“So. You want to kiss me.” Steve still sounded shell shocked, and Thor smiled down at him.

“Tell me, Captain.” he rubbed his thumb over Steve's bottom lip gently. “What would I have to do to hear you curse again? Perhaps in pleasure this time, and not so much frustration? You are always so polite, I would enjoy hearing something filthy from your lips.”

“We need to leave.” Bucky started tugging on Tony's sleeve. “Right now. Thor is about to--”

“--fuck Captain America through a coffee table? Make some fucking popcorn because I definitely want to see this. It's like the kinky version of a Captain America comic book that was never published.” Tony was still staring with a stupid grin on his face and Bucky groaned, and just bent down and threw Tony over his shoulder, jumping to his feet.

“Bucky!” Steve yelped, nearly jumping out of Thor’s arms. “Oh my god!”

“Steve.” Bucky smiled a little. “Hey Thor. We were just leaving. You guys uh… do what you were gonna do.” He carried a very irritated Tony out the door, locking it behind him with an awkward little wave.

“So.” Steve turned back to Thor once the room was empty and rubbed his neck self consciously.. “So I've had a crush on you for a while now, and...yeah.” he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I don't know where to go from here.”

“What do you want to happen, Captain?” Thor asked, folding those big arms across his chest and Steve tried hard not to moan when all those muscles shifted and flexed like that.

“Um.” Steve couldn't help letting his gaze travel down all that bare skin, to the really ridiculously small Captain America briefs, over thick thighs and long legs. When he finally met Thor’s gaze again, the demi-gods eyes were practically glowing with want, and Steve suddenly forgot how to breathe. “Maybe go to my room?” he squeaked and Thor grinned.

“I think we can take care of this right here, don't you?”

Steve frowned. “We might break something.”

“Oh.” Thor rumbled. “I am counting on it.” ************************

#thundershield #cap/thor #awkward first kisses #tony is a punk #bucky is an accomplice #poor steve

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