#stache's 600 celebration

[stachestachestache]

600 Celebration: At Last

Summary: Bucky’s wedding day/night.

Somehow 600 of you decided my weirdness is fun to follow so I’m writing a series with six installments to commemorate this milestone, cuz why not? Thank you for following and being part of this community with me. I really do enjoy being on here and being insane with each and every one of you. This is the last installment of the series -- the grand finale! It’s been a joy!

Word Count: 1452

Warnings: Uhhh 18+

A/N: Really trying out some writing and stuff. Feedback is always appreciated.

600 Celebration Masterlist

It was a long time coming, really.

Bucky knew from the moment he laid eyes on you, he would do everything in his power for an opportunity to spend the rest of his days with you. History be damned. Some deep, undiscovered part of Bucky knew he deserved happiness... but it would be a while before his conscious self realized he was worthy. It was a source of much disagreement between the two of you, especially as your relationship progressed.

Bucky often buoyed back and forth between working to be the best of himself for you and believing that even his best would never be enough.

No matter how many “I love you”s are seared into his skin, in whispers, in kisses, in nose bumps, the words never seem to sink in. Until now.

Standing at the end of the church alter, Bucky feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience. How did he get here? Literally, how did he get here? Did he drive? Did Steve drive? Did Sam drive? WHO DROVE?

But of course, it’s the larger question that plagues his body, forcing tremors and nervous sweats, soaking through his tailored suit. How did he get so lucky? Will any of this last?

Bucky’s long hair had been carefully slicked back, bowtie perfectly proportioned. His suit was cut in all the right places, accentuating the ridges of his toned body. Everything and everyone was in place. All that was left was the processional.

As the blare of the organ started up, Bucky froze for a moment in pure panic. Did you know what you were signing up for? Were you going to regret this??

Those questions swirled like a tornado in his mind until the image of you, in a dress that looked as white as snow, began to approach him down the church aisle. Who could think to argue against such beauty? 

Bucky is so stunned by your image that he forgets how to breath. It takes a nudge from Steve and a murmur of “unlock your knees, otherwise you’ll pass out punk,” for air to whoosh back into Bucky’s lungs.

He feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. This was going to be forever. 

You had been the one to propose because you knew Bucky never would. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you -- quite the opposite. It was that he never could shake the feeling that he was a burden in your life, that his darkness would eventually destroy your light. You knew that wasn’t true.

It was simple and sweet, much like your relationship. Bucky came home to find Chubs, your cat, sprawled across the couch, in a bowtie with something shiny attached to it. 

“Hey buddy, what’ve you got there?”

Chubs stared back at him uninterested. When Bucky leaned in to investigate, he realized the shiny object was a wedding band, with his initials engraved on the inside. Bucky was immediately hit with a sense of elation.

“Where’s your mom?” Bucky asked the feline, as if she could respond.

You of course, were hiding underneath the couch the entire time. Bucky knew from the moment he stepped into the room but decided not to say anything. When he felt hands on his ankles, he didn’t jump like you had hoped.

You pulled out so just your head peeked out from underneath. Wearing a cheshire cat grin, you simply said, “Marry me?”

You don’t know how but Bucky managed to squeeze himself under the couch with you, but safe, under the weight of your living room furniture, he planted kisses across your face between “yes”’s.

The ceremony was just a formality; Bucky knew his love for you could never be represented in some flimsy government document or in tax breaks.

The former winter soldier surprised himself by enjoying the wedding. If it had been his way, you both would have eloped, or maybe had a very small ceremony at your house, followed by dinner with your nearest and dearest. But you had a big family and you were your parents’ only daughter; a wedding was non-negotiable.

But the moment Bucky had been waiting for came sooner than expected. The goodbyes went quick as relatives and friends had the good sense to let the newly married couple bask in the wonder of marriage for their first night together.

Steve gave Bucky one last brotherly pat on the back before shooing the newlyweds off to their hotel room.

“I’ve got this covered, Buck. Go be with your wife.”

The anticipation was killing Bucky. In the car ride from the church to the reception, you had teased him with a taste of what was to come by hiking up your dress to show off the white garter you had bought specially for that night.

The rest of the evening was a sly game of cat and mouse. You were a master at riling up James Buchanan Barnes. You knew just where to touch and tease and just when to walk away. Bucky was salivating at the end of the night, itching to rip that pretty dress off of you. There came a point where he legitimately wondered how offended your family would be if he fucked you in front of them...

He tried not to show his desperation but you could read him like an open book. After years together, there was no hesitation in intimacy and yet the night felt different anyway. Like a new chapter was beginning, although neither of you felt the day-to-day would change all that much.

It started with a moment of silence, just drinking each other in once the doors were closed and locked. Gleeful chuckles were followed by hurried kisses and disrobing. First a tie, then a coat, then a pair of heels until Bucky was in his sleek black boxer-briefs (that he knew you loved on him) and you in a white, body-hugging teddy with garters. 

Bucky was sure he had never seen anything more amazing as he watched you crawl onto the bed, gazing at him over your shoulder before turning around to lay back, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Bucky scrambled to follow, covering your body with his as his mouth descended on yours. It was heated and heavy, the ramp up to something long awaited. Your tongues met and danced and sparred for dominance, hands gripped in hair, pulling and tugging. 

Bucky began trailing kisses down your neck, running his hands up and down your sides before sliding down to come face to face with your core. He looks up at your with a shit-eating grin before delicately reaching up to snap a garter against your leg.

He decides he likes the gasp of surprise that leaves you mouth and immediately plunges several fingers into your already dripping pussy to draw another one out of you. As his fingers move within you, he surveys the lacy material of your teddy, using his free hand to tweak your nipples over the cloth.

You’re lost in a haze of ecstasy that only Bucky knows how to draw from you, being so attuned to your body. The first waves of pleasure wash over you like low-tide against a sandy beach -- subtle, the pretext for a larger storm to come.

“You ready for more, doll?”

Bucky is so enamored by the lingerie and in such a rush to feel you around him that he simply pushes the cloth aside to make room for his cock, but not before pulling his fingers up for you to lick them clean. When he goes in for a kiss, the flavor of you lingers on your lips and he laps up the last traces as if he were a man stranded in a desert who found the last remnants of an oasis.

“You taste so amazing...”

His first stroke into you is a delicious stretch. It always feel like newly discovered territory. Once Bucky is completely seated inside of you, he lifts himself off the bed to see where your bodies are connected.

“Look at my baby, taking me so well. We fit perfectly.”

You moan together when Bucky finally starts moving... “Can’t wait to fill ya with my seed; watch my doll grow with my baby...”

His words light a new fire in you, makes you realize you want something you never expected to want.

From there, it’s all in building momentum, reaching peaks together that you’ve reached before, but will continue to climb together. When Bucky rolls off of you, he turns onto his side, just to take in the sigh of you once more -- hair askew from sex and body glowing with a sheen of sweat. You are his. 

His wife.

@tatathepotatosworld

[stachestachestache]

600 Celebration: Arrival

Summary: Alpha!Chris (from The Martian) helps you through the labor of your pup. It’s my first time writing something in the A/B/O universe so please be gentle and don’t expect too much lol.

Somehow 600 of you decided my weirdness is fun to follow so I’m writing a series with six installments to commemorate this milestone, cuz why not? Thank you for following and being part of this community with me. I really do enjoy being on here and being insane with each and every one of you. This is the third installment of the series!

Word Count: 1406…

Warnings: Labor and birth (have i been listening and watching too many podcasts and videos on motherhood and childbirth? probably, but here goes.) Also tons of fluff!

A/N: Really trying out some writing and stuff. Feedback is always appreciated.Continuing with the dad!Bucky theme just cuz I love it.

Chris knew it was coming even before it began.

It was his intuition that made him such a good doctor and probably part of the reason why he was chosen to go into space. Those intergalactic voyaging days are behind him now, having married and settled down. He thought the allure of space would forever haunt him but after meeting you, he quickly realized the entirety of his universe is contained in the love you have for one another.

Only a few weeks after the wedding, Chris began to notice a subtle shift in your scent, barely there and unnoticeable to the untrained nose. A rosy texture forged with your usual lavender aroma that you either weren’t aware of or chose not to address.

“Do you smell that?” he asked you, after a week, when the smell had persisted. You were both getting ready for work; as professors at the same university, you took one car every morning and parted ways at the entrance with a quick kiss -- him, ambling off the the sciences and you to the humanities (Chris never expected to fall in love with the wordy philosophy professor, but life is good at throwing curve balls at him).

“Smell what?” you had answered incredulously.

The pieces suddenly clicked in your alpha’s mind -- “We need to see your doctor.”

Now, nine months out from that day, Chris could tell your pup’s arrival was fast approaching. Better than anyone else, he could see the minute changes in your body, ones that you even barely registered sometimes in the face of all the other discomforts of pregnancy.

You stubbornly refused to take a year-long sabbatical, teaching through your first two trimesters before hunkering down and agreeing to take a break from teaching and continue your research from home. When you finally sent in your request for leave, Chris felt a sense of relief wash over him. It brought him a sense of security to know you were in the safety and comfort of your own home, rather than walking around a large university campus, dealing with the stress of students and grading.

While he continued teaching, the leniency of the job allowed him to spend a lot of time by your side, caring and watching over you like the protective alpha he is. Although it annoyed you at first, eventually you relented to Chris’ protective ways, staying mostly in the house, leaving house chores to him (which you often whined about because of his sub-par cleaning abilities) and never lifting anything that weighed over 5 lbs.

It was exhausting and there were moments when you wanted to scream at Chris, but any time he saw the fire light in your eyes, he would quickly smother it with sweet kisses and purrs; he used your increased craving for affection to his advantage, often nosing your scent gland and marking on your neck to calm you down. It was nice and infuriated you and you never hesitated to let Chris know as much, even as you were wrapped up in his arms, under several layers of blankets.

As the pregnancy progressed, your instinct to create the perfect nest became more and more pronounced. After coming home from classes, Chris would often find you on the floors of your house, scrubbing away at nonexistent grime. When it came time to assemble the nursery, the scientist walked in to a room stacked with so many comforters, pillows and blankets, he was sure you had bought out your local Bed, Bath and Beyond. It was frightening and endearing all at once. It took over a week for you both to properly scent them in preparation for your pup.

Chris was certain he had maxed out on his love for you, that his body and mind were incapable of feeling any more affection for his omega. You are his everything. His heart is so intertwined with yours, he often forgets where he begins and you end. Chris didn’t know two separate lives could meld together the way yours and his did. It wasn’t easy and there were definitely bumps along the way but it all made sense.

But as your body and child grew, so did Chris’ feelings. Even as a doctor, who understood on the molecular and biological level, everything that was happening, he was amazed and astonished at your strength and courage, what you and your body was capable of. You were so precious and his top priority in life was always to protect you, and now, also your child.

Even before you both climbed into bed, Chris knew tonight was the night. You kept repeating like a mantra that you still had three weeks, but Chris could feel it in his gut. He debated whether even to sleep, but at your insistence, he crawled in with you and shut his eyes. He awoke several hours later to your whimpering, low and quiet but filled with distress. It set all his alpha instincts on high alert.

When he saw and felt your belly harden and soften under the blankets in a scarily rhythmic pattern, he got to work packing your bags and preparing the car. Strangely enough, you were still asleep, riding through the contractions barely conscious. 

When he finished loading the car, you were finally awake and in tears, kneeling on the floor and grasping the bedsheets after having tried to get out of bed.

“Where were you?” he felt chills run down his spine at your tone, rushing over to help you out of bed.

“Prepping the car to go, let me help you into some clothes and we can get to the hospital,” he tried to say as calmly as he could. He was whispering for some reason.

Chris could see it coming, but he never anticipated how fast it could be.

“I won’t make it to the car; I’m not going to make it to the hospital,” you could feel the pain searing through your body, the urge to expel this new human out from you and into the new world was overwhelming.

Chris began to panic, but tried to keep it under control as to not startle you more.

“It’s okay, we’re okay, I’ll figure it out. You’re going to be okay. The pup is gonna be okay...”

It was all a jumbled mess of words falling out of his mouth as he tried to remember the time he spent in the maternity ward during his residency. Running to maneuver you back onto the bed, he told you he would be right back as you whimpered again in distress. When he checked on your progress, he realized how close you both were to meeting your little bundle of joy.

“Excited to meet us huh? Couldn’t wait for the hospital???” Chris murmured under his breath as he rushed around. He had a feeling this early and hasty arrival would just be a taste of what new life with their pup was going to be... fast and unexpected.

He grabbed blankets, scissors and shoe laces, started a pot of water boiling on the stove before rushing back to your bedroom when a scream cut through the silence of your house.

“He’s coming now, Chris, get the fuck back here and help me!”

“He? How do you know it’s a he?” The questions slip out before Chris can stop himself.

You meet him with glare of rage and anger when he arrives back into your bedroom, one that frightens the alpha to his core.

“YOU! You’re the reason I’m here right now!” Chris tried to ignore the murderous gaze in your eyes as you yanked him to you by the collar, screaming in his face from the pain.

From that moment onward, it was like attempting to reach the crescendo of a beautiful, but cacophonous song. At moments, it felt like you would never reach it.

“One last push baby, he’s almost here.”

With one last exertion of energy, a tiny tiny wail sounded in your ears. Chris quickly worked to cut the umbilical cord before lifting your child onto your chest... he heaved a sigh and took a moment to just stare at mother and child before he was hit with the overwhelming reality that he’s a father.

Again, his affection grows tenfold and when he comes to from his journey through his mind, he sees you staring at him, tears, this time of joy and love, sliding down your cheeks. You beckon him over and for the first time, as a family of three, cuddle on the bed.

[stachestachestache]

600 Celebration: (In)Sanity

Summary: New parenthood with Lance.

Somehow 600 of you decided my weirdness is fun to follow so I’m writing a series with six installments to commemorate this milestone, cuz why not? Thank you for following and being part of this community with me. I really do enjoy being on here and being insane with each and every one of you. This is the fifth installment of the series!

Word Count: 898

Warnings: Exhaustion? Also soft Lance Tucker (who I do actually believe would be a good father... or rather fatherhood would make him a better person?)

A/N: Really trying out some writing and stuff. Feedback is always appreciated. Continuing with the dad theme just cuz I love it.

The delivery had gone rather smoothly, although Lance was sure he was never going to have feeling in his left arm ever again.

Your labor had taken close to 20 hours, but with the distance of several days and the cutest baby girl anyone could ask for, the entire ordeal felt like only several minutes, forgotten in the haze of the bliss of new parenthood. 

Lance had fallen in love with his child the moment he knew she existed. For you, it was a more complicated process, one that necessitated seeing a face and meeting an actual human -- one existing and living in the world, and consequentially, a person you could learn to know and love.

Still, you were a goner the moment your child was placed on your chest, slimy and bloody in her grand entrance into life. A tiny nose, tiny mouth, and eyes that were somehow impossibly bluer than her father’s.

The two days following in the hospital were almost like a lucid dream. You were parents. Responsible for a living, breathing being, charged with raising her to be a good and independent member of society, although that was far down the line... for now, it was all snuggles and cuddles and so very soft skin.

It’s a whole new journey... a journey that begins with sleepless nights and physical pain.

Your return home started out tame but quickly transitioned into a challenge of your wits. It was a never-ending stream of feeding, changing, rocking to sleep, bottles, washing, waking up. At the end of day four, you nearly broke down in tears from sheer exhaustion, your body heaving in protest at the lack of rest. It wasn’t that Lance was not helping, quite the opposite really, but there were things only you could do.

A week in and you were ready to ask if there was a return policy on your baby. Your child, despite your best attempts, was refusing to go down for a nap, which only made her over-tired and more finicky, thus making it even harder for her to go down for sleep: a feedback loop that only got worse with each progression. 

Lance had run to the gym for a couple hours to make sure the building hadn’t burned down or been run amuck. 

When he returned home, he opened the front door to be greeted by both of his girls sobbing uncontrollably. You stood in the middle of the living room, shirtless, hair in a bun, rocking your inconsolable newborn, who had tears running down her face and was screaming louder than Lance thought was physically possible for a human her size.

“Lemme take her off your hands, babe,” his arms reached out the moment he set his things down by the door.

“I’ve tried everything. She won’t eat, she won’t sleep, she doesn’t need to be changed...” you bemoaned, collapsing on the couch once your daughter was safely cradled in her father’s arms.

Lance could tell the situation was dire as he stared at your curled body... he had never seen you cry so desperately, not even in the delivery room in the toughest moments of labor. 

“Let me call my mom. She can watch Olympia for a couple hours while we get some rest.”

Lance had ushered you upstairs and into the bathroom for a shower after a quick call to his mother. You stood under a hot stream for what felt like three hours but was only twenty minutes. You cried some more, until there were no tears left and then lifted your hair to let the water wash away the hardness of the day. Tomorrow would be new and you’d learn all over again how to navigate this new challenge. When you stepped out of the shower, you shrugged on a soft robe before exiting in search of your baby, not bothering with clothing -- they always ended up discarded for feedings or covered in vomit anyway.

You could hear Lance pacing with Ollie (your preferred nickname for you daughter, although Lance was not quite yet on board) in her nursery. It was rarely used, as she had been staying in your room since her return home; it made night feedings easier.

You stood quietly at the doorway, just watching father and daughter. Lance was humming, but soon progressed into a low and quiet melody that you couldn’t make out.

“We’re just trying our best, so take it easy on mama, alright?” Lance said to your daughter, when her eyes began to droop and he could finally take a seat on the rocking chair in the corner. He caught your figure from the corner of his eye and lifted his head to greet you with a smile, beckoning you over with a shake of his head.

You walk over and Lance lifts Olympia in his arms to make room for you on his lap. Wet hair tickles his chin, the warmth of your body against his settles something deep within him, something that not even his athletic accomplishments ever seemed to satisfy. This was what he was searching for all along.

Taking your daughter into your arms, you lean back on Lance to say, “If there were an Olympic game for being the best father, you would win gold for sure.”

Lance feels euphoria spread across his chest, “That’s the only gold I care about now.”

When Lance’s mother finally arrives, she finds you three curled up together on the rocking chair, snoring away with Olympia carefully grasped between four hands.

@tatathepotatosworld Almost forgot to tag you!

[stachestachestache]

600 Celebration Masterlist

Heyo, just gonna make a post to put links to all six installments in one place.

1. The First: Bucky talks to your baby bump when he thinks you’re asleep.

2. Slow Burn: Bucky is scared to have sex with you while you’re pregnant.

3. Arrival: Alpha!Chris (from The Martian) helps to deliver your baby.

4. A Good One: Steve enjoys an afternoon in the park with his family.

5. (In)Sanity: New parenthood with Lance Tucker.

6. At Last: Bucky’s wedding day!

[stachestachestache]

600 Followers?? -- Stache’s 600 Celebration

Hello hello, never thought I’d be here but apparently 600 of you out there subscribe to my daily lusting of Sebastian Stan and wow... just, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. This online community is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time and it’s my happy place and safe place. I try not to pay too much mind to follower numbers because it’s really just numbers, but this made me really ecstatic and I’d really like to share this experience with all of ya’ll.

I’ve got something special lined up for this... and even though I’m probably not considered an all-out “writing” blog, I’m excited to share some stuff that I’ve been working on for this milestone. It might be cheesy, but I kinda wanna do something special for this because we gotta celebrate, even the small stuff! And it brings me joy, so why the hell not? Look out for some fun stories in the next several days! 

I love you all! Thanks again! 

(And also, if you want to send me a prompt to be considered part of this special series, don’t hesitate to send it in!)

[stachestachestache]

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAYYYYYY

I’m going to take this as a sign from the universe to adopt the personality of the devil for the next 24 hours... what deviousness will i get up to??

[stachestachestache]

heyo friends, just wanted to make a quick post to say thanks again! 

I just hit 650 and that’s insane. But also, unfortunately, the next installment of Stache’s 600 Celebration will have to be posted tomorrow because im really packed today. im not stopping, so don’t fret (although i doubt anyone is)!; i really wanna finish this thing! thanks again for taking this journey with me!

[stachestachestache]

thankyouthankyouthankyou