#that they just dropped from that movie on like they fucked up steve and Bucky's relationship even platonically after that

[femslashspuffy]

Winter Solider and Age of Ultron gave us all so much hope for the mcu. I hate watching Age of Ultron most of all because there are so many good dynamics, so much writing gold going on between these characters. The scene where they all try to life the hammer fucking kills me every time. If the series had time to breath or writers that were all on the same page and interseries contracts that weren't just like the falcon having one scene in ant man, it could've been so good and so fun

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Mild language, Bucky and Reader being Tolkien nerds, light fluff, mention of rabies (it's a super scary disease and we should all be vigilant, okay?!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: You just had the pleasure of meeting the very handsome Bucky Barnes. Despite a little bit of awkwardness during your first encounter, you have a feeling your life is about to get a lot more interesting now that he's been introduced into it.

A/N: You know what? I said I wasn't going to do this, but I thought "fuck it!" and decided to post all of Chapter 1: Unarmed. My anxiety is too high to just sit on it. So, please enjoy Ch1. Pt2! Pts 3 & 4 to follow!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. "Lord of the Rings," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the  reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me."

"Someone like me? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[turtle-steverogers]

Consider: Bucky lets Alpine wander all over their kitchen counters if she pleases. Steve, however, tries to keep her off the counters. Sometimes Bucky walks in on Steve having a dead serious conversation with Alpine (sometimes even in his serious, disappointed Captain America voice), like, c'mon, girl, we talked about this.

OKAY CUZ ALPINE AND STEVE'S FEUD FEEDS MY LITERAL SOUL LIKE ON FUCKING GOD THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME. now this isn't about kitchens or sandwiches, but you get the gist.

also norman is their dog. here is a picture commissioned from the super talented @hopelessartgeek by my dear friend @buffyscribbless !!! coolest thing ever!!!!

Enjoy!!!

-

“Bucky, get your fuckin’ cat, Jesus Christ!”

Steve resists the urge to throw the goddamn thing as Alpine bats his head with her paw for the millionth time since the movie started. Norman was growling up at her, drowning out the sounds of Indiana Jones in the background.  

“If you wanna murder her already, I’m not gonna stop you,” Steve grumbles to Norman, ducking his head as Alpine takes another swing at his ear.

“No, no one is murdering anyone,” Bucky snaps, padding into the room and plucking Alpine up from her purchase on the back of the couch. “You coulda just moved her if she was bothering you so much.”

“I tried!” Steve cries, sitting up indignantly. “She just hissed at me and started doing it again!”

Norman was whining now, turning in circles by Steve’s feet and casting furtive glances towards where Alpine was grooming herself on Bucky’s lap.

“That fucking gremlin seems to only like you,” Steve says, not bothering to keep the distaste from his tone.

“She can sense that you’re bothered with her,” Bucky says, staring lovingly down at Alpine, who is now asleep against his stomach.

“I don’t think cats work like that,” Steve scrunches his nose. “I just think she hates me.”

Bucky shrugs. “She’ll warm up to ya.”

“Hip hip fucking hooray.”

-

“Norman, no! No, Norman, leave her- no- fuck, BUCKY!”

Bucky barrels into the room freezing momentarily to take in the scene of Steve holding Norman back while Alpine shoves soil at them from her perch on one of the windowsills.  

He stifles a laugh and Steve shoots him a glare. “Shut the hell up and get your fucking demon out of the succulents.”

Swallowing his laughter and putting on a solemn face, Bucky crosses to Alpine and sets her on the ground.

“She’s just restless,” Bucky insists. “I just need to get her a cat tree or something.”

“Then fucking do it and don’t let her mess with my plants!” Steve just barely stops himself from stomping his foot.

“Okay, okay.” Bucky raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll go do that now. Go walk Norman or something.”

Steve huffs, grumbling to himself as he grabs Norman’s leash off its hook. On his way out, he tosses a middle finger in Alpine’s direction.

“Steven Grant!”

“She deserves it!”

-

It’s the middle of the goddamn night and Alpine is scratching. Bucky had kept to his word and gotten Alpine a cat tree, but since then, the fucking terror has done nothing but scratch the fucking thing. Steve wouldn’t mind if Bucky hadn’t insisted that they keep the tree in their bedroom so, ‘Alpine can sleep near us, c’mon, you let Norman sleep in our bed.’

Steve had lost that argument as soon as the Norman card was pulled. You can’t really argue with hypocritical logic.

“Will you please stop already!?” Steve hisses into the dark quiet of the room, careful not to wake Bucky or Norman up.

He sees Alpine’s yellow eyes turn in his direction and they hold eye contact for a tense moment before she hops up onto the bed next to Steve.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve says through clenched teeth as Alpine begins to knead her paws into his stomach.

Steve groans, letting his head drop back onto the pillow. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

-

He’s home alone, fist clenched tightly in his hair as he tries to regain control over his breathing.  Norman’s hovering nearby, providing company and comfort, but not coming closer for fear of overwhelming Steve.  

He hadn’t expected the movie he’d been watching to trigger him, but one loud fight and a door slam later, he was 7 years old again, cowering under the kitchen table while his ma and dad screamed at each other. 

The shaking is getting worse and Steve has half a thought to call Bucky, but he’s in a meeting right now at the Tower and that would be unfair to ask of him. No, he could handle this by himself. Everything was going to be okay.

Another shout sounds from the TV and Steve gasps, reaching for the remote and forcefully shutting it off.  He braces his forearms on his knees and leans forward, opening his eyes and attempting to tap back into his surroundings.  Norman comes a little closer, nudging his hand with his nose until Steve begins to run a shaking hand down his head.

It does a little to calm his nerves, but his heartbeat is still too erratic and his senses are still foggy and anxious.  Across the room, Alpine meows loudly and Steve looks up in time to see her knock her plastic food bowl off the counter.  It’s empty and bounces when it hits the ground and Alpine fixes Steve with a look as if to say, ‘feed me’.

Steve huffs out a surprised laugh, panic forgotten as he stands from the couch, crossing to pick up the bowl before filling it with cat food.  He sets it back on the counter and watches in surprise as Alpine nestles her head against his arm before digging into the food.

“Ya know, you’re not actually that bad.” Alpine purrs in response and Steve smiles. “I think I might not hate you.”

Alpine cuts herself off from eating and begins to convulse violently, spitting up a hairball a few moments later.

Steve blinks. “What the fuck.”

Alpine just looks at him again, meowing.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Things that drive Bucky insane,

Steve's itty bitty waist, his plump lips that buck wants to bite like a strawberry, Steve's inability to shut up while watching TV

Oh, ho, ho, do not tempt Bucky to list the things about Steve that drive him insane sexually and generally because Steve's a little shit because you will be there for literal days if not years.

This is a nonehaustive list that you have begun, and we can add so many things:

Steve's itty bitty, teeny tiny waist that his fingers can't help but dig into while they're fucking doggy style, Bucky pulling Steve back onto his cock at the same time that he shoves as deep into him as possible. He wants Steve to wear a bruised-in corset of his handprints across his waist at all times, healing factor of the serum be damned.

Steve's plump lips that he wants to bite until they're puffy, hot, and glistening wet from the abuse.

Steve's inability to shut the fuck up during TV episodes and movies meaning that Bucky has to have subtitles on so he doesn't miss critical plot points. The only thing already supersized about Steve before the serum was his mouth--the fuckin' loudest mouth in Brooklyn. Bucky hates to love that mouth so much.

Steve's blush. Enough said.

Actually, no, not enough said about Steve's blush. There can never be enough said about that pretty, baby pink to dark, deep red color. Bucky gets unspeakably hot seeing the flushed, burning red shells of his ears when he's fucking Steve from behind. Bucky could watch the way his blush spreads in slow motion for hours, days, weeks--he could watch it on loop if Steve would let him video it. It starts high on his cheeks as blotches of color, spreads over the crooked bridge of his nose, floods his entire face from his hairline down to his cut jaw, leaks down his throat, finds its way to his chest, crests the hills of his tits, surrounding his perky, pink nipples, and fades down to the lower part of his flat, smooth stomach. If Bucky's lucky, he can get Steve to blush so hard, so feverishly hot with embarrassment, that the small of his back gets colored, too.

Steve's whole hobby of running off into alleys to get into fights. No longer getting into it with men three times his size, mostly because that's physically very hard to do these days, yet all the same in principle and ego.

Steve's golden hair fresh from a lay--sticking up in tufts from having Bucky pull at it, hands in his hair, directing Steve's empty-headed, glazed-over stare wherever he wants it or pulling his whole head onto his dick, fucking his fucked-out face. That look makes Bucky feral. The dumb look in his eyes and the dumber look of his gaped-open lips, all his muscles gone slack in his face save for the carved-in depression between his drawn-together eyebrows. Sprawling pleasure.

Not just after they fuck, though, Steve's golden hair when he wakes up in the morning. Ruffled like a baby chick. That look never fails to make Bucky crush him into a full-body hug, cuddle session because he's out of his mind with affection. There's something about all those achingly familiar cowlicks.

Steve's golden hair darkened after a shower, seeping rivers of water that eagerly streak down his squeaky-clean, hot-water-red skin, conforming to every curve and dip of his body. Bucky will never stop wanting to lick every drop of water off of him when he's fresh out of the shower or bath or pool or--you get it.

Steve's body.

Steve's tits. Bucky is a caveman, thinking about Steve's tits. They're ripe and so fucking grabbable, leaving Bucky with no words, just a low, hungry growl in the back of his throat, and if he keeps going on about them, if he keeps thinking about them, he's going to seek out his man like a predator stalking prey. Then, Steve won't be able to peel his teeth off of him for hours, being gnawed at like a bone to a wild dog.

Steve's whole goody-two-shoes, golden-boy act around people who don't know him but know Captain America. It always gets under his skin, frustrating him, making him huffy and wanting to start cracking jokes that would make army boys from back in the day do a dull spit take with how disgustingly dirty they are.

Steve's waist deserves a second mention.

And if his waist gets two mentions, then maybe his ass needs three. He looks ripe there, too, a work of art designed to leave everyone who admires it drooling, full of primal hunger. He's sculpted like a Roman statue. A young God.

Steve's stubbornness, a fucking donkey, an ass, gets a hundred mentions if his waist gets two and his ass has three. Bucky can't believe he volunteers to run after him on the regular.

Jesus wept, Steve's stomach. Bucky wants to kiss his stomach and feel the way it clenches and contracts under his mouth. Reacting so beautifully to the force of overwhelming pleasure, squirming until he's shaking, spasming on Bucky's cock shoved deep inside him.

Those miiiiiiiile long legs. Strong and smooth and carrying him with determination that's dragged them both outta hell.

Those legs drive Bucky insane for another reason, too, not just how shapely they are--that determination. If Steve would learn to walk away from a single fucking fight, Bucky would be saved another lifetimes worth of years in stress alone. Steve's legs always seem to propel him toward danger. Steve's legs, tender and vulnerable, with Steve's penchant for only using his shield to protect his upper half.

Steve's ability to, without fail, misplace his phone and then make them late out the door when they need to leave because he can't find it. He always has to resort to pouting until Bucky calls it, unveiling the fact that it's right where Bucky told him to look but he didn't. Obstinate fuck.

The fat, soft little pillow of his perineum, obscenely cute and pink and oh-so sensitive, between his legs, tucked behind his balls but before his hole. Hidden from prying eyes other than Bucky's. And pry Bucky does--

Steve's cheeks. Bucky has to pull his cheeks apart, spreading him until he squeaks with embarrassment, his cute, tight little hole clenching, winking at Bucky like a hidden treasure between his fat asscheeks. Bucky wants nothing more than to pry that sweet hole open. He wants to lick it, to finger it, to fuck it. He knows he owns it, and that drives him insane. He wants to own it again and again and again. He wants to overpower the serum that knits Steve back up tight after ever fuck and leave him ruined and gaping.

Steve's dick always gets him to that feral intensity, whether Bucky's just looking at it in all its objective beauty--its girthy thickness, its length with that slight curve, its dusky-pink color, its eagerness, twitching, leaking, swelling, its veins, its fat head, all of it--or whether Bucky is feeling it, tasting it, using it, whatever. Anything. Everything. Everything about that dick is insane. Bucky's insane for it.

Steve's balls. Bucky slurps at them and teases Steve when he goes without an orgasm for a day, two, three, or maybe even a whole week when the missions get nasty, for how swollen and full they must feel. He's a fucking spiller. He overflows with cum when he orgasms. It's the hottest shit.

Steve's feet, even. The handsome, high arches of his feet, the skin surprisingly soft like a baby's. Sweet and vulnerable. Bucky can't help but want to dig his thumb into the soles of his feet to make Steve moan with relaxation, reflexively kicking his leg out like he has since he was a kid. Foot rubs that turn into tickle fights are totally worth the accidental kicks to his chin that Bucky suffers.

Steve's never present survival instincts. Bucky will always be a little angry after he pulls a stunt where his self-sacrificial bullshit is on display. It doesn't matter if it's a grenade, a lacking parachute, or whatever else, it always drives Bucky up the fucking wall. Goddamnit, Rogers.

Steve's seeming need to crawl out of his own skin with an orgasm--arching his back, shaking from head to toe, screaming through his teeth or gasping in a silent, open-mouthed scream, clawing at Bucky or at anything within his reach, acting like it's bigger than him. Bigger and enough to give Bucky an ego, fueling his fire, making him want to do it again and again and again until there is no way Steve can keep going, so he collapses. Crumbled. Overwhelmed.

To cut this short, shorter than the hours, days, weeks, months, years long list Bucky has for each bit of Steve that makes him turn into a mad man: everything. It's everything about Steve. The man's too much.

I blacked out and wrote this. I was just moving some asks around, saving them as drafts, and, uh, got carried away, I guess, lol. I hope you enjoyed 😘

[nastybuckybarnes]

Riding Lessons  -  Three

Pairing: Dbf!Bucky X Reader X Dbf!Steve

Summary: You and Wanda make plans to head to your family’s cabin for the weekend. The only problem? That’s the exact same weekend that your dad and his friends were planning to go out there. It’s fine, though, there’s plenty of room for all of you, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Language, Light Angst, Fluff, Smut (oral (f/m receiving), face riding, fingering, hair-pulling, spanking, face fucking, degradation, rough stuff, breeding kink, slight voyeurism, name calling, little bit of cockwarming), Aftercare, Age Gap (Reader is 21, Bucky is mid-forties),

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: My first post since my little disappearance lol. I hope you guys like this and I’m hoping to actually start posting on a bit of a schedule, but I’ve always been a hot mess so we’ll see lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I love you all very much!

Part one  Part Two

~*~

“Ah! There you are, perfect timing. I was just about to call you!” Your dad says with a smile as you and Wanda walk into the house.

“Yeah, we just finished yoga,” you explain, stopping at the front door as your dad and Bucky walk toward you and your friend.

You’re both drenched in sweat, hair matted and clothes sticking to your body after an intense hot yoga class.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself this weekend? Bucky, Steve and I are heading up to the cabin.”

You frown and shake your head, trying to avoid looking at Bucky because you know you won’t be able to play it cool if you meet his eyes.

“Wanda and I were supposed to go to the cabin this weekend, remember? I told you on Monday.”

Bucky watches as you and your father discuss this weekend, his eyes devouring your figure.

You look good enough to eat in your sweaty yoga clothes, and he needs to discretely adjust his boner as he watches a drop of sweat bury itself in your cleavage. God, he wishes he could lick it up and then fuck you till you’re crying.

He’d give you a better workout than any yoga instructor ever could.

“You ladies can still come this weekend. Us old farts are gonna be watching the game and fishing for most of the weekend, so you ladies will be free to sunbathe and paint your nails and talk about boys all you want.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, accentuating your bust and making it so much harder for Bucky to keep his cool.

“Is that really what you think we do all day?” You ask, sass dripping from your voice.

A smile tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth when your eyes finally meet his, and he can see you swallow hard and squeeze your soft thighs together.

“I’m okay to go, still,” Wanda pipes in, smiling encouragingly at you when you raise your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to, Wanda. Don’t feel pressured just because they're standing right there,” You whisper, though secretly all you want is to go because Bucky and Steve are gonna be there.

The memory of the last time you saw both of them together has been playing in your head since the barbecue.

Steve’s eager tongue between your legs, lapping up the mess that Bucky made and not stopping until his face was just as messy.

His beard glistened in the sun when the three of you finally made it back outside, and he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.

All the while, Bucky kept shooting you knowing glances, letting you know that that wouldn’t be the end of things.

She shakes her head and smiles again, “it’ll still be fun. Besides, now we won’t have to worry about anyone breaking in and killing us like in that movie we watched.”

You groan and shake your head, but a grin finds your lips anyway.

Perfect.

A weekend with your best friend and the two men who practically own you. What more could a girl ask for?

~*~

“Okay, ladies! You two are gonna be sharing the room down the hall. If you get up at all during the night and see someone on the couch, don’t panic. It’s just this big lug,” your dad says with a grin, patting Steve’s shoulder.

The blond man grins at you, mischief in his eyes, then looks over at where Bucky stands, his eyes focused on yours.

You swallow hard and nod, grabbing Wanda’s hand and tugging her toward what’s going to be your bedroom for the weekend.

“Oh. My. God!” She exclaims as soon as the door’s closed, a wicked grin on her face.

You groan loudly and collapse on the bed.

“I told you!” You grumble, shaking your head in disbelief.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now you’re regretting coming to the cabin with them.

“They were pretty much fucking you with their eyes the whole time! And your and your dad really has no idea?” She asks in a whisper, sitting next to you on the bed and poking your shoulder until you look at her.

“He has no clue, dude. Fuck, this was a mistake. I’m not gonna be able to survive the weekend. I’m not. I’m gonna die. I’m going to explode or dad's gonna find out or-”

“Stop overreacting! If you guys haven’t been caught after the whole barbecue thing, I doubt you’re gonna get caught at all. Have fun. You’re only young once, and those guys are hot as fuck. If you don’t fuck them this weekend then I’m going to.”

You roll your eyes but push yourself into a seated position anyway.

“Fuck, I guess you’re right. It’ll be fine. They’re not gonna be obvious about it, right?”

Wanda nods and roots through her suitcase to find her bathing suit

“Right. Now, let's go get some sun!”

~*~

Wrong.

You were wrong.

You were so fucking wrong.

You and Wanda are lying down on the lounge chairs on the patio of the cabin overlooking the lake, iced teas beside you and soft music playing, when they walk by.

Each of them clad only in their swim trunks, thick muscular bodies on display for your hungry eyes.

You can’t help but devour them, and they’re not discreet in doing the same to you.

Bucky goes so far as to stand directly in front of your lounge chair, a smile on his lips as he takes in the sight of your beautiful body draped in only a red bikini.

“You ladies put sunblock on?” Steve asks, his eyes focusing on your cleavage for a moment before returning to your face.

You shake your head, “that kind of defeats the whole purpose of getting some sun, Steve.”

Bucky leans down slightly and trails his fingers over your inner calf, stopping above your knee and then tapping your inner thigh gently.

“You want some help putting it on, crybaby? Hmm?”

You inhale sharply, thighs squeezing together but he grabs the flesh quickly, giving you a stern look.

Your eyes flicker over his shoulder to Steve, whose gaze is focused on you as Bucky brings his hand up to grab your face. He leans closer, his lips grazing your cheek for just a moment before his teeth nip at your ear.

“You gonna ride my face when your dad falls asleep tonight, princess?”

You nod immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly pulls away.

“You guys comin’ or what?” Your dad’s voice calls from around the side of the cabin.

Bucky steps back and rises to his full height, adjusting his boner then plastering a stunning smile on his handsome face.

“Yeah! Just got caught up.”

They both take their leave, each glancing over their shoulder at you before disappearing around the house.

It’s quiet for a long moment before Wanda whistles lowly.

“I don’t know how you’re not melted into a puddle right now. If either of those men did that to me I’d probably die on the spot. Like, I don’t understand how you do it. You’re one lucky bitch, I’ll tell you that much.”

You take a deep breath and sink an inch lower in the lounge chair, heart racing and eyes squeezed shut.

“Wanda, I don’t think I’m gonna survive this,” you confess, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

She giggles and shakes her head at you, relaxing in the lounge chair.

“Why not have fun with it? I mean, they clearly are. Might as well give it right back to them,” she notes.

You slowly pull your hands away from your face and look over at her, intrigue written across your face.

“I’m just saying that two -or, three I guess- can play this game. They wanna tease you? Tease ‘em right back. I’m sure whatever they have in store for you after will be worth it anyway, so might as well have fun.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip for a moment, pondering her words.

“But how? I don’t wanna be obvious and have my dad find out.”

She shrugs, “just do little things. We’ve got popsicles in the freezer, right? Go offer them one.” She punctuates her sentence with a wink and you feel a smile creep across your face.

You rise off of the lounge chair and nearly trip over yourself in your haste to get inside and grab a popsicle.

You pull it out of the wrapping and lather it with saliva, then head to the bathroom to adjust your bikini top in the mirror.

Once you’re positive that you look good enough to eat, you make your way back outside, smiling at Wanda when she laughs as you pass by.

You follow the path that Steve and Bucky took around the side of the cabin where your dad keeps all the fishing gear, wrapping your lips around the popsicle and sucking the sweet taste into your mouth when you finally catch a glimpse of the two men.

“Hey, kiddo. Everything okay?” Your dad asks, not looking up from the supplies he’s gathering.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just wanted to see if any of you wanted a popsicle.” You drag your tongue up the underside of the popsicle right as Bucky and Steve lift their gazes to you, and the look on their faces says it all.

Steve stays quiet, but Bucky takes a step towards you and cocks his head to the side.

“I’m okay for now, darling. I’ve already got a sweet treat planned after dinner. Don’t wanna have too much now.”

The way his eyes rake over your figure has you feeling the ghost of his touch between your legs, and your thighs clench. Something that does not go unnoticed by the two of them.

You bat your eyelashes innocently at the two of them, taking the popsicle deep in your throat for a moment and humming around it before pulling it back out.

A string of saliva connects your lips and the popsicle for a long moment before you lick your lips, and you grin when the two men adjust themselves in their swim trunks.

“Okay. Just wanted to come and offer. Do you want anything, Steve?” You turn pointedly toward the blond, your free hand stroking your breasts through your bikini top, playing with your hardened nipple for a moment before dropping down to rest at your side.

Steve swallows hard and gives you a look that has a shiver racing down your spine.

“I’m good, sweetheart, thank you. Might take you up on that later though.” His dark eyes tell you that he wants your lips wrapped around something other than the popsicle, and you giggle softly.

“Okay. If you fellas change your mind just let me know. I don’t mind bringing them out to you.” You lick up the popsicle one last time before turning on your heel and walking away, your ass bouncing with every step you take and you can feel them watching you.

“All right boys, let's get this boat out in the water!”

~*~

The rest of the afternoon is peaceful, with your dad and his friends fishing and you and Wanda enjoying the sun while the ache between your legs only worsens.

By the time dinner’s on the table, you’re beyond ready to deal with your aching clit on your own, but one look at the two delicious men at the table and you halt those thoughts in their tracks.

Your dad sits at one end of the table and Bucky sits at the other, with you and Wanda between them on one side and Steve seated across from the two of you.

With a pile of steaming food on your plate, you find yourself hungry for something else, unable to concentrate on the conversations going on around you as your mind wanders to all the dirty things these men could do to you. All the things they plan on doing to you.

Lifting your eyes slowly, you watch Steve as he talks to Wanda about some science thing she’s working on in school.

Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you slowly raise your foot and straighten your leg under the table, watching the way his lips quirk upward when your foot caresses his calf.

You slowly drag your foot upwards until you reach his thigh, then dare to move further watching him closely as you stroke the bulge in his pants.

His hips move forward the tiniest bit and he clears his throat, shifting his weight and shooting you a glance, daring you to continue.

You can’t help but grin, taking a sip of your drink and stroking him again.

Your eyes flutter over to the man on your right and you almost choke on your drink at the way he’s looking at you.

He’s obviously aware of what you’re doing, and you have to stop yourself from giggling.

You tease Steve beneath the table for the rest of the meal, stroking his hard cock through the fabric of his shorts and relishing in the way he looks at you. Promising a punishment that you’re beyond excited for.

~*~

“Okay folks, you guys ready?” Your dad shouts from the doc, Steve beside him helping set up the fireworks.

You and Wanda both cheer, excited about the fireworks.

They begin setting them off and the two of you watch in awe as your attention is captured.

“I’m gonna go down on the swing to watch, wanna come?” Wanda asks, stepping towards the stairs leading down to the porch swing.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna grab a sweater.”

She nods and heads down to the swing.

As you turn to the cabin to get a sweater, you freeze in your tracks.

Bucky’s leaning against the sliding glass door, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and his dark eyes trained on you.

“B-Bucky. I didn’t hear you come out.”

You mentally curse yourself for being reduced to a stuttering mess whenever he's around.

“You had fun with Steve, huh?”

You swallow hard and lick your lips, unsure of how to proceed.

He pushes off the door and steps toward you, forcing you to back up until your back hits the railing of the deck.

You’re trapped between the wood and his hard body and you don’t know what to do.

“You’ve been teasing us all day, crybaby. That’s not something a good girl does, is it?”

You tilt your head back to look at him as the fireworks explode overhead, his eyes illuminated for a brief moment before darkness masks his face once again.

“I was just returning the favour, James.”

Hearing you say his name has his cock standing at attention and fuck, he loves hearing it come from your pretty lips.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your plan now? Because, the way I see it, he and I have every right to do whatever we want to this sweet, tight body of yours. I could spin you around, bend you over, and fuck your cute little cunt till you’re crying. Right outside in front of your friend and your dad. Is that what you want, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer, but he’s already got you spun around and bent slightly over the railing of the deck.

You inhale sharply, hands grabbing at the wood as another firework bursts overhead.

His fingers trail between your thighs beneath your dress, and he lets out a soft curse when he finds you bare and wet for him.

“You’re really playing with fire here, crybaby, you know that?” He whispers, his lips trailing over your neck as his fingers slowly slide through your folds.

You bite your lip to keep yourself quiet, eyes focused on where your dad and Steve are.

All the way down at the dock.

Surely too far away to make out exactly what’s going on.

Bucky’s fingers find your clit and you gasp, hips automatically pushing back into his hand, and he chuckles softly.

“You’re so easy, crybaby. I can play you like a fucking fiddle. Do you have any idea how easy it is for me to make you cum? For me to have you begging and crying?”

You hum softly, rocking your hips in time with his fingers.

“Maybe you should remind me,” you whisper, wanting nothing more than to cum after how wound up you’ve been all day.

He laughs softly, his fingers not slowing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair.

“Is that what you want, baby? You want me to make you cum? Wanna cream all over my fingers like the good little slut I know you are?”

You nod eagerly, your body wound tight and ready for the sweet release you know he can bring you.

He chuckles quietly and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, then grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Good girls get to cum. Bad girls get punished. Meet me in the living room at one and you’ll get what you deserve, princess.”

With that, he releases you and takes a step away, then bounds down the stairs and onto the grass, giving Wanda a wink on his way.

You stay leaning against the railing, breathing hard and squeezing your thighs together in frustration.

These two are gonna be the death of you. But what a way to go.

~*~

You toss and turn all night, unable to get even a wink of sleep as you count down the minutes until 1am.

Eventually, the clock strikes one, but you find yourself paralyzed with fear and anticipation.

What will they do to you?

What if your dad finds out?

Oh god, this can’t end well.

Finally mustering up your courage, and using the cover of just needing a glass of water, you venture out of your room and slowly make your way through the cabin.

The lights in the living room are off, and you let out a sigh of relief.

They probably got the hint after waiting for fifteen minutes.

Disappointment and relief play tug-of-war with your heart as you get yourself a glass of water from the kitchen.

At least now you’ll probably be able to finally get some sleep. Just as soon as you deal with your aching clit.

“You know, Steve didn’t think you’d show. But I knew you’d make it.”

You tense up at the sound of his smooth voice, searching for the source of it in the darkness of the room.

“And, though I’m glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence, punctuality is important to me.” His voice slowly gets closer until you can make out the outline of his body in the darkness.

“I-I’m sorry,” you try softly, setting your glass down and bracing your hands on the counter behind your back.

“After all the teasing today? No, you’re not. But you will be.” His firm hands find your waist with ease, and then he’s spinning you around and bending you over across the kitchen island.

You huff out a surprised gasp when a second set of hands pushes your hair away from your face.

“How are we gonna punish our sweet girl, Buck?” Steve’s voice asks from in front of you.

You swallow hard as the oversized shirt you’re wearing gets pushed up your back, your panties yanked down your thighs next.

“Hmm...” Bucky acts as if he’s thinking as his hands caress the globes of your ass, but he already knows what he’s got planned for you.

“How about... one for every minute you were late?” He punctuates his question with a particularly rough smack to your ass, and you yelp softly only for Steve to cover your mouth with his large hand.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” the blond agrees.

Without giving you any warning, the brunet’s hand comes down hard on your ass again, and you jolt away from the pain as much as you’re able to from your position on the counter.

He spanks you again, then again, and twice more after that, and pretty soon tears are prickling at your eyes and the ache between your thighs has morphed into a throb.

You’re mumbling pleas and apologies into Steve’s hand, and both men can’t help but coo at how adorable you look.

With each strike of his hand against your ass, you crawl closer and closer to the edge, your climax just out of reach when he finally whispers ‘fifteen’.

“Good girl. There you go, you pretty little thing. Took it like a champ,” Bucky praises as he massages your aching flesh.

You whine softly, cheeks tear-stained and glistening.

Steve releases your mouth and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You’re such a good girl for us, honey. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispers softly, his voice gentle and kind.

Your insides get warm and fuzzy at the praise from both of them and you can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth.

“Now, sweet girl. You gonna let me eat your pretty pussy? I remember you saying you’d ride my face. Well, what are you waiting for, honey?”

He helps you stand on your shaky legs, then leads you into the living room with Steve hot on your heels.

Each man has a hand somewhere on your body, and you don’t hate it. In fact, you could die happily in their arms.

After an orgasm, of course.

Bucky lies down on the couch on his back while Steve turns on a dim lamp in the corner of the room, giving you just enough light to see where each man is.

“C’mon, baby. Lemme taste that pretty pussy. I’ve missed her.”

You climb nervously onto the couch, nodding at the questioning look on his face, then position yourself with your knees on either side of his head and your pussy right above his mouth.

“None of that hovering shit, sweetheart. I’m a man, not a boy. I can handle you. I wanna feel you ride my face.”

He grabs your hips and yanks them down until your weight is firmly resting on his face, and then his talented tongue is working your clit.

“O-oh!” You exclaim, tumbling forward and grabbing onto the arm of the couch for stability.

“Oh God... Bucky... oh fuck...”

He works your body like he’s spent years studying it, finding every angle that makes you twitch.

Steve comes to stand at the edge of the couch, smoothing his hands through your hair and cupping your face, forcing you to look up at him through glossy eyes as his friend brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so pretty riding his face, honey. So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips with his.

The kiss is intense and passionate, and you can’t help but whine softly against his mouth when his fingers dart beneath your shirt to tug on your nipples.

Bucky’s hands slide over your thighs, pulling you further onto his face while his tongue attacks your clit.

You moan into Steve’s mouth, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the bare skin.

“M’gonna cum,” you whisper against his mouth, leaning your chest into his hands as he fondles your breasts.

“Do it, honey. Cum all over his face. C’mon, sweet girl,” Steve coaxes, tugging and twisting your nipples and nipping at your bottom lip while you rock your hips against Bucky’s face.

The additional stimulation pushes you over the edge quickly, and you crumple forward against Steve’s chest, panting against his mouth as you convulse.

He supports your weight while Bucky licks you through your orgasm, relishing in the feeling of your walls spasming and fluttering while you whimper and moan against Steve.

“Good girl... fuck, you’re such a good girl for us,” Steve praises, hugging you to his chest for a moment then helping you off of Bucky’s face.

The brunet sits up and pulls you to sit on his lap, his beard glistening in the dim light of the room.

“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing you deeply.

You taste yourself on his mouth and can’t help but sigh into it.

Something about the way he’s so comfortable being sexual with you, so open and confident without a hint of insecurity makes you so unbelievably attracted to him.

You rock your hips on his lap, wanting -no, needing- more.

“You’re a greedy girl, aren't you?” He muses against your lips, pulling back to look at you.

You nod, breathing heavily and wanting nothing more than to have his thick cock inside you.

“Please fuck me,” you beg softly, lust-filled eyes trained on him.

He groans softly and nods, pushing you to lie down on your back.

You huff out a breath and sit up while he rises, yanking your shirt off and watching as he and Steve drop their sweatpants.

Steve comes to kneel at your head while Bucky makes his way between your thighs again.

“Buck says I’m not allowed to fuck you, sweetheart,” Steve whispers. “Not yet, anyway. Punk wants to keep that sweet tight cunt to himself and, honestly, I don’t blame him. Still can’t help but be jealous. I’d love to feel your squeeze me, princess. Fuck, I dream of the day when I can finally cum inside you, pump you full.”

You squirm on the couch, desperate to be filled with cock and cum, and the two men share a soft chuckle.

“Getting our girl all worked up, Stevie. Look at how desperate she is.”

‘Our girl’. You can’t help but sigh at that.

You belong to them, to both of them. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Steve rubs the tip of his hot cock against your lips, smearing a bead of precum around and chuckling softly when your mouth drops open.

“You’re just desperate for cock at this point, aren’t you?” He questions softly, pushing into your mouth and rubbing against your tongue.

You can only nod slightly, not wanting to disturb him as he plays with your mouth.

Bucky’s hands rub gently along your thighs, smoothing over the skin and sending shivers racing up your spine.

“You like teasing her, huh?” He asks, a smile on his face as he watches his friend have fun with you.

“She makes it hard not to,” Steve admits, slowly pushing his cock down your throat.

You brace one hand above your head on his thigh, trying hard to keep your throat open and push your gag reflex down as he starts thrusting gently.

“Aw, look at how nice he’s being, Angel. Treating you like you’re fragile or something,” Bucky says with a chuckle, using one hand to guide his cock to your dripping hole while the other hand shoves your shirt up above your breasts, two fingers pinching your nipple.

“We all know that’s not true though, don’t we?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that kisses your cervix and you can’t help but moan around Steve’s length, trying to suppress the cough that wants to follow.

The brunet feels proud at how well you take his cock, like your body was made specifically for him. And he plans on taking complete advantage of that.

His pace is even, each thrust rough enough to have a soft moan falling from your mouth and every time a noise comes from you, Steve moans from above you. The vibrations combined with how hot and wet your mouth is has the blond trying desperately to hold onto his composure.

You feel so full.

So completely stuffed from both ends and you’ve never been happier.

Bucky fits perfectly in your cunt, each drag of his girth along your walls has sparks shooting to your clit, a type of stimulation you didn’t think you’d get from penetration alone - yet here you are.

Your orgasm creeps up on you slowly, getting closer and closer with each thrust of Bucky’s hips and every tug of your hair in Steve’s hand.

Your senses are clouded. Nothing exists beyond Bucky in your cunt and Steve in your mouth. All you can taste, feel, hear, and smell is the three of you and you’d love to bask in it forever.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart. Nice n’ tight... wet... shit, honey, you feel like heaven, you know that? God, I could fuck this sweet little pussy all night. Might just have to.”

Bucky’s words have you gushing around him, a moan vibrating against Steve’s cock again and the blond can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, honey. Shit... I tried to be gentle but fuck, you feel too good. I’m sorry.” With that, he holds your head in both hands and begins fucking your throat like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy.

He uses you to get off. He ignores your gags and coughs and the tears running down your temples and he fucks you like he owns you.

And between your thighs, Bucky does the same thing.

He has your hips hoisted up slightly, the angle allowing him to get so much deeper and fuck you so much harder. His hands are firmly planted on your hips, gripping so tightly that you know you’re going to have bruises in the morning but you also don’t care.

His cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust, and you can’t stop the moans from falling between gags.

Everything is too much. The pleasure between your legs mixes so beautifully with all the pain and it pushes you over the edge, your climax slamming into you like a train.

“Fuck... can feel you cumming, sweet girl. Fuck, that’s right... cream on my cock, princess. It’s all yours, you know that,” Bucky murmurs, grunting at the vice-like grip your cunt has on his cock.

Steve doesn’t last much longer, yanking his cock out of his mouth and furiously stroking it until ropes of his cum are bursting out and painting your face.

You cough and gasp, moaning far louder than you really should as Bucky fucks you through your orgasm and Steve cums on your face.

“Fuck, you look so pretty covered in his cum, baby. So fuckin’ pretty. M’gonna fill you up now. Gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum then send you back to bed leaking. You want that? Wanna be full of my cum?”

You nod immediately, your hands finding his chest as his thrusts get sloppy.

Your nails dig into the meat of his chest and break the skin, but you’re both so far gone in your pleasure that you hardly register that.

All that matters is him pumping you full of cum exactly like he said he would.

“Please,” you whisper roughly, dragging your nails down his arms until your fingers are wrapped around his wrists - so thick that you can’t even touch the tip of your thumb to your middle finger.

“Fuck, baby. You ready for it? Yeah?” He asks, piercing blue eyes focused on your fucked-out face.

It takes two more thrusts for him to meet his high and then he’s making good on his promise.

He paints your walls white, fills you with warmth exactly like he said he would, and you feel so whole and content at that moment.

With Steve stroking your hair and Bucky smoothing his hands over your thighs, you feel happy.

A content sigh falls from your lips and you settle deeper into the couch, exhaustion creeping up on you.

“Did we fuck you to sleep, pretty girl?” Steve asks softly, his fingers wiping the mess off of your face gently.

You only hum in response, the sound scratchy and hoarse.

He chuckles and presses a quick kiss to your forehead before straightening up and tugging his boxers on.

“How do you feel, honey?” Bucky asks gently, his eyes soft and full of something that has your heart jumping in your chest.

You nod your response then clear your throat when he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Sore,” you manage to whisper, your lids feeling heavy.

The two men share a soft chuckle and Bucky pulls you onto his lap so you’re cradled in his arms, his softening cock still lodged inside of you.

“How about we go take a quick shower to get you cleaned up, hmm? Then we can put you to bed.”

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck and wind your arms around his strong body.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask softly, the question muffled slightly from where your lips are pressed against his skin.

He rubs his hands across your back and then a second set of hands is smoothing over your hair.

“We can’t stay for too long, Princess, but definitely until you fall asleep,” Bucky whispers, peppering kisses along any skin exposed to him.

Steve nods his agreement and pushes your hair aside to allow him to press a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Now c’mon, crybaby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 4

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a dumbass, Sharon sucks

Cookie jumped up, dropped her phone on the bed and took a fast shower before rushing up to Nick Fury's office, in a t-shirt, leggings and wet hair, for an emergency meeting. On her way there she texted Dylan and Iris to meet her in her office in an hour. She crossed paths with a number of other agents rushing to their assignments. Everything was on lockdown and high alert as they tried to work out where Sharon and Bucky had gone.

Cookie hurried into Nick's office to see Maria, Sam and did a double take when she saw Steve Rogers amd Tony Stark at the table. She felt her stomach drop, must be serious if they were coming out of retirement.

A flash of red hair caught her eye and she turned her head to see Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton huddled together.

Cookie swore internally, she had a tenuous work relationship with the Black Widow, who hadn't taken Cookies close friendship with her former lover very well. Cookie realized that Steve and Nat might be the only people here who knew more about Bucky than she does so of course they were called in but she knew that working with Nat would be a challenge.

Steve and Clint weren't a concern as she had a good working relationship with both, when the two Avengers had been involved in the past.

Tony saw her and winked "No breakfast cookies, Cookie?"

Everyone chuckled and Cookie smirked at Tony as she took a seat and snarked back "Sorry Mr Stark, sir, didn't have time to grab any but if you want to come to the common room there are plenty."

The rest of them sat down and Nick started by explaining the current situation before Sam and Cookie gave their insights into Bucky's recent behavior.

Cookie noticed that Steve looked concerned while Natasha was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face, staring at Cookie.

The Russian spy made Cookie nervous after a threat that was made when Nat saw Cookie and Bucky cuddled on the couch in the common room, watching a movie. Nat had told Cookie to stay away from her man under threat of violence but tried to play it off as a joke when Bucky snapped at her.

The meeting lasted just over an hour and everyone left for their own work spaces to keep an eye on the manhunt. The quinjet was prepared to take off as soon as they had any sightings of Bucky or Sharon.

Every agent worldwide was notified to be on the look out and warned that Barnes was on Sharon's side. Deadly force was only authorized as a last resort.

On the way back to her office, Cookie was near tears. She knew that something had changed about Bucky and now she understood, Sharon was not only manipulating him but had figured out how to brainwash him, or something. She knew how Bucky felt about being controlled after his time with Hydra. She knew that this would devastate him, if they could even bring him back. She wiped her tears, and got to work checking in with her informants around the world with the hopes that someone could find them.

Iris came up behind her and tried to look over Cookies shoulder "Any luck finding your boyfriend?"

Cookie bristled "What the Hell Iris? Where have you been? I texted you over an hour ago and you wander in now? and why would you sneak up on me like that? And he's not my damn boyfriend, we're not really even friends anymore."

She turned and glared at Iris "Why are you fucking around when we have a situation here? Get back to your desk and contact all your people, everywhere, to see if we can find them. Dylan can give you any information that you need."

Iris shrugged and wandered away "I will, I just needed to stretch and get some coffee."

Cookie shook her head, Iris was a great analyst but in recent months had been getting too full of herself and seemed to think the rules didn't apply to her. Her skill was the only reason Cookie hadn't fired her but Iris was really pushing her luck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky was sitting in his room, flipping channels when there was a knock at the door. He answered the door and smiled when he saw Sharon but frowned when he saw Cookie standing next to her. Cookie kept saying that Sharon was the Power broker and played a recording of Sharon saying she was the Power Broker and wanted the Winter Soldier for her enforcer. Sharon pulled a gun out and shot Cookie in the heart, then looked at him with a creepy smile and grabbed his hands, refusing to let go when he tried to pull away. His head started hurting and everything became a blur before he jolted awake, breathing heavily, head still aching. He sat up and rubbed his face, confused because that wasn't what happened. He tried to remember the encounter from the day before but it made his head throb even more.

He saw that Sharon was curled up next to him, like every other time he woke up, and he noticed he had lost another half a day. Then he looked around and realized they weren't in his room at the compound. Or Sharon's. He didn't remember going anywhere and worked to get up without waking Sharon.

He looked out the window and saw nothing but trees surrounding them. He checked out the house, more like a cabin, with one bedroom, a cellar and a loft. He checked the gps on his watch and saw they were way upstate, near the Canadian border. He was relieved they hadn't gone far but confused as to why they were here.

Bucky was distracted when Sharon woke and called him back to bed. He planned to ask her what was going on but she tried to distract him with sweet words and her nude body.

Bucky closed his eyes and stepped away from her. "Sharon, what's going on? Why are we here? I don't remember leaving the compound. Why do I keep losing time?"

Sharon smiled, and for the first time since she arrived at the compound, it made him uncomfortable "Don't you remember? You saw Dr Cho yesterday morning, she told you a head injury on your last mission was causing the blackouts. Don't worry baby, I've been with you the whole time."

Bucky's head started aching again "Hurts when I try to think about what happened with Cookie. I've never known her to be so completely off in her conclusions. What if- aarrgh!" he grabbed his head and stumbled before sitting on the bed.

Sharon moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him "Don't worry, Buck. I've got you."

Bucky jumped away from her "No! Every time you comfort me or we fuck, I lose hours and shit keeps getting worse. Tell me right fucking now, what are you doing to me, Sharon?"

Sharon sat up and sighed "I'm just trying to help baby. I hate seeing you so upset and in pain, please let me help."

Bucky shook his head and shouted "NO! Not before you tell me what's going on."

Sharon stood and shook her head "No Barnes, you don't give me orders, it's the other way around. You should have gotten back into bed, it's more enjoyable than what's coming."

Bucky backed into the wall "What are you doing Sharon?"

She sighed "Just taking care of business."

Bucky felt a sting in his neck and looked at her "Wha whut what have you-" and fell to the floor unconscious before he could finish his question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam showed up at Cookies office with fresh coffee and a bagel around 11am and forced her into a needed break.

"Come on Cookie, I know you barely slept but you need to take a break once in a while."

Cookie took a drink of coffee "I know, Sam but we have to find them. She's controlling him somehow. I played audio of her saying she's the power broker and wants the soldier to be her enforcer but he didn't hear what was said. I don't know what she did but she got into his head he's not himself."

Sam nodded "That would explain a lot but how? They got rid of the soldier in Wakanda."

Cookie shook her head "No, they got rid of the trigger words but the soldier is most likely still buried in his psyche. As far as how? I don't know, that's what we need to figure out so it can be reversed but first we need to find them."

Cookie thought for a minute before grabbing her phone and making a call "Hey Bruce, it's Cookie. Yeah, I know this shits crazy. So on that subject, I could use your help. Helen's too." she paused listening "I know, you're not an M.D. but you know about biology and biochemistry." she explained what happened with Bucky "I need you, and whoever else you think might have knowledge on brainwashing, drugs and hypnosis." Pause "Yeah, like how could one potentially wake the Soldat without the trigger words?" Pause "Exactly." she hummed "Thank you, I knew you'd understand. Ok and try to keep it vague with anyone who doesn't have that level clearance or is outside of the Avengers" she listened "Yes. Yeah we also need to figure out, if one were controlled with the aid of hypnosis or drugs, how we could snap them out of it. Right, exactly. Ok. Ok, I'll be in my office for the foreseeable future." She chuckled "Sleep? I've heard of such a thing but never experienced it myself." She laughed out loud "Ok Bruce. Keep me updated. Ok, thank you."

She looked back at Sam "They're gonna look into known methods and hopefully we can find an easier and faster way to handle the Soldat than tranqing him."

"What about Sharon?" Sam questioned.

Cookie growled "Bullet between the eyes sounds like a fitting reward for her. If she is taken alive I can't promise I won't make her wish she were dead."

Sam's eyes grew wide "I don't remember you ever being so bloodthirsty before, Cookie." He smirked "She took your man, right?"

Cookie shook her head "No, I'm not planning to renew my friendship with Barnes. He was an ass to me before she got here but no one deserves to be controlled, abused, like that."

After Sam left, Cookie continued to reach out to everyone she knew until Iris came back into her office, holding up a tablet "Hey boss, I think I found something"

Cookie nodded "Bring it over, let me see." Iris handed her the tablet and Cookie looked at her, confused "Map to a safehouse in Harlem? What's this about, Iris?"

"Sharon's personal phone pinged from a local cel tower. I bet they're staying at that safe house."

Cookie shook her head "Why would they stay at one of our safehouses? Sharon should realize we'll check all of them."

Cookie did a double take. Did she just see Nat pass by her office?

Iris persisted before Cookie could check

"I have a strong feeling about this and need you to come with me."

Cookie furrowed her brow "Take Dylan, I'm a little busy."

"Please boss? I can't find him and don't want to give them time to get away."

Cookie relented and they hurried to Iris's car. When they sat in the car Iris grabbed something from her purse and flicked it towards Cookie.

Cookie slapped her neck and her eyes grew wide before they started closing "Ouch! What was that? Iris, y y you-" and slumped over in her seat.

Iris rolled her eyes and started driving North.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella

Chapter 5

[itiswormtimebaby]

Time

You're beginning to question why Bucky won't sleep with you, but you ask the wrong person

Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) (Steve is reader’s adopted brother) CW: Friend’s calling each other “bitch”, references to sexual acts

“I don’t know if I should call you a stupid bitch, a dirty bitch, or a lucky bitch.” Cilla, the platonic love of your life, stares at you from the passenger seat of your car. “Straight out the gate and he’s already hitting it raw, I guess I’ll go with all three you stupid, dirty, lucky, beautiful” she tacks on the end to soften the blow, “Bitch.” Stupid was probably fair, dirty was a compliment, and lucky was factual so you let the comment ride without protest. There was one thing that was bothering you about her statement though, “I don’t think it’s fair to say he hi-”

“Bitch,” She cuts you off, “be so fucking for real.” 

“He turned you into his own twinkie- cream filled.” The voice comes from the backseat where McKenna, the third member of your friendship trio is devouring a nerds filled grape slush. Cilla groans in disgust at the bad joke while you pull a face in the rearview mirror, refusing to break eye contact with the man until he cracks first, slowly lowering his plastic spoon back into the sticky purple treat; “I, uh, I really regret saying that.” “Good! That was fucking weird, and now we all have to live with it. Sit in your shame.” Despite your admonishing tone there’s no real upset behind you words as you carry on;

“But as I was SAYING, it was just the tip so I don’t- like it doesn’t feel like that counts. Don’t get me wrong, it was amazing, I just…” The silence sits heavy in your ears but you can’t find it in yourself to continue, suddenly embarrassed despite being in the presence of the two people you’ve trusted with damn near every dirty little secret you possess; why hadn’t it progressed past that?

“Fuck it! Who wants to lose their virginity on a Monday, anyway?” McKenna’s outburst breaks the silence and blessedly removes the spotlight from you, “Yeah,” you acquiescent with a half-hearted chuckle, “you’re probably right.” The conversation moves on quickly enough, though the thought is persistent in your mind- why hadn’t it progressed past that? 

Hours later, McKenna returned home to his husband, sun dropped beyond the horizon, you pull to a stop outside of Cilla’s house, the dark-haired woman making no move to exit the vehicle; “How are you actually feeling about it?” There’s clearly only one situation she could be referencing but in truth you’re not sure how to answer. She was the first call you’d made after coming down from your chocolate-brownie-hell-high, after Bucky finally showed back up in the aftermath, after dates one through four, and especially after five, she’d heard details even McKenna hadn’t, every salacious little tidbit. But you hesitate now, a bond forged in college deadlines, all nighters, stress induced coffee comas, movie marathons and evening walks had blossomed into a beautiful friendship with two main tenets; you burn I burn, and no bullshit. You knew she would listen and take it all in without judgment, but part of you hesitated, worried that her honest take, because she would be incredibly honest, wasn’t something you were ready to hear. 

“I’m confused,” You finally settle on. She doesn’t offer acknowledgement besides a small hum, no pushing, no rushing. “Everything has felt so good.” At that Cilla does let out a little snort, raising her eyebrows suggestively, though makes no other move to interrupt; “I wasn’t actually talking about that, though he does make me feel amazing. I just mean…Bucky’s been in my life since I was pre-pubescent, he may actually be what jump started puberty for me,” Cilla’s eyes roll at your joke as you pause again to gather your thoughts. “He was this larger-than-life presence, cocksure, the muscle to Steve’s mouth and I just- oh my god I was so in love with him. I’m sure there’s still notebooks floating around where I waxed poetic about his eyes, wrote Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes over and over again in the margins…”

You peter off before taking a steadying breath, suddenly thirteen again and trailing along behind Steve and Bucky, the latter of which was the epicenter of every girlish daydream you had. “He had this girlfriend when we were in High School, Dot? I was so fucking jealous of her, she had everything I wanted because she had him. I know Bucky cared about me, in some way, but it wasn’t the same as he cared about her and it broke my heart.”  You can still picture her; pretty red curls, shy smile, hand wrapped in Bucky’s anytime he was within arms reach. 

“Once he enlisted, once there was some space between us, I realized there was a lot of naivety I needed to tear through-” You hesitate, fearing the explanation will be muddy but push on anyway, “like, the love I felt was real- but I also built it up a lot in my head? In a way I think it was probably unfair to him, projections from a kid who was newly navigating the difference between romantic and platonic love, but everything just felt so big and all encompassing.”

“He was your first love.” 

“He was,” You nod in agreement, picturing  Bucky at fifteen, knuckles bloody, Steve behind him with a bruised eye and busted lip, the body of your latest would-be-bully crumpled on the floor, “but that’s not- that’s not how he felt about me.The romantic love, or infatuation, or whatever- it was one sided, very obviously so. I used to wish it was different, dream of a day where he’d drop Dot’s hand and reach for mine but then I realized-” You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful for Cilla allowing you to set the pace of the conversation as you ruminate over the relationship, “I realized after he’d left how shitty that was, just because he wasn’t in love with me didn’t mean he didn’t care, what we did have wasn’t a consolation prize.” 

Your friend rests her hand gently on your forearm, nodding her understanding; “Life went on, he and Steve were deployed, I was in school, they came home, they joined the club, he dated other girls, I dated…But I never really got over that feeling of first love, it just- deepened?” You nodded your head at that, happy enough with the explanation, “It sprouted new roots, more substantial ones, I fell in love with him all over again, a different version of him in a way.” 

You were getting to the part you didn’t want to say, the part that worried you most, “Like I said what we had wasn’t a consolation prize, Bucky’s always been one of the best people in my life, even when I probably annoyed the hell out of him. I’d made peace with knowing that how we felt about each other didn’t line up and then, well…” 

“Then he showed up on your doorstep with flowers begging for a date?” 

“He showed up with flowers after I accosted him with my feelings.”

“Don’t forget the FINALLY.” She prods you pointedly at that, having been driven half mad over your analytical obsession with the word, when I FINALLY fuck you, “he clearly had thought about it, and he even said that’s not all he wanted, don’t go where I think you’re about to go.”

“Where am I about to go?” You ask her. 

“Questioning his intentions, whether he really likes you, wants to be with you…HE asked YOU out, that means something. Just because y'all aren’t having sex doesn’t take away from everything else.” 

Everything else. Cilla was right of course, it’s not like Bucky was running around acting disinterested; he brought you flowers, took you on dates, kept you fed, ran errands with you just for some extra time together, gave you mind blowing orgasms, made you laugh. But then why…

“But then why won’t he sleep with me? He clearly cares about me, thinks about me, but why not- his body count is high, why not one more?” You deliver the last line like a joke, but no part of it feels funny. “I know he cares about me, truly I do. But I guess I just worry- like he’s cared about me since we were kids, so maybe he doesn’t want to sleep with me because he’s figuring out that romance isn’t what he really wants between us and that’d be harder to walk back having-”

“Don’t,” Cilla cuts you off, “do that.” You look at her a bit helplessly as she pushes on, “Has he actually given you any indication he doesn’t want to date you? Aside from not sticking it in?” 

It was crude but she had a point, and you knew Bucky, knew he wasn’t one to string people along. 

“No.”

“Exactly, it’s just dick, don’t let it ruin something special.” 

“I just- I’m all in, so why is he holding back?”

“It’s still a new relationship-”

“I’ve known him forever-”

“But not like this. This is new. He may not be exactly where you’re at but clearly he has feelings for you. My advice would be to hop out of your head and just enjoy things as they progress.”

You nod once in acknowledgement, still not quite ready to move on from the topic;  “Should I just ask him why?” 

Cilla mulls it over for a minute, “I… wouldn’t, not yet. Give it some time.” 

Time, right.

But you couldn't help the worry that persisted, what would Bucky be figuring out in that time?

All things Bucky and Bug found here: to be loved Main masterlist: here

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 31 Bonus Peek

I know, I know. I don't normally do this. But I want to give you guys a hint as to what's coming in Chapter 31 because it's dark - not in a fun way. There will be warnings on the chapter for all sorts of unsavory things. If you're not one for horror or a little gore, I just want to make sure you know what you're walking into.

Warnings: References to mafia lifestyle, transactional sex, murder, kidnapping, gang violence, and dismemberment.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Bucky asked irritably. He didn’t like her coming by his house uninvited. She knew that.

“I’m sorry.” Kat looked it. As he stood watching her, a sweaty mess behind his desk from his run, she meekly approached him.

Stopping on the other side of his desk, she carefully placed the gift bag on the top of his desk between them.

“It’s for you,” she said forlornly. “Thank you for helping Paulina.”

Blowing out an exhale, he looked at the bag. “She out of the hospital yet?”

Kat nodded. “She’s home. Resting. I’m staying with her since we don’t know who did this… or why.”

Bucky hated wasting the manpower but in the off-chance Kat was right… “I’ll send someone to keep an eye on her place for the next couple of days, okay?”

“And mine?” she asked, flashing him a smile.

“You said you were staying with her,” he pointed out. “You stay with her, someone’s looking after you too.”

The smile faded and he couldn’t even feel badly about it. Kat was one of many. He’d had women who were more beautiful, better in bed. She wasn’t unique. She wouldn’t even be memorable.

And she’d served her purpose a long time ago. He took up with her to piss off Steve, to hurt his wife. While Rogers had been pissed and insulted that he brought his former mistress to his wedding, he hadn’t succeeded in his second objective. The new Mrs. Rogers hadn’t been hurt.

No, the daughter of the old boss and the bride of his enemy had turned out to be a lioness.

And she would be his at the end of this. It was going to happen.

Glancing at his current mistress, he knew it was past time to end things. But he’d wait until Paulina had mended. Make sure nothing else was heard about that little incident. Then he’d drop the hammer.

“Do you really care so little about me?” Kat asked him.

It wasn’t a bad acting job. Bucky smiled.

“Do we really care about each other?” he wanted to know. “Relationships aren’t based solely on love. That’s the movies. Relationships are based on mutual need. You need someone to give you money to maintain your lifestyle and I need sex and occasionally some arm candy. Don’t make this something more than it really is.”

Hooking a finger in the bag, he peeked into it to see a wad of tissue paper.

Kat watched him expectantly.

Grabbing the bag, he pulled out whatever she had wrapped in that tissue paper. It felt odd in his hand, more than one thing. The first thing he encountered was a small jewel box. Setting the rest down, he opened that to see a set of ruby cufflinks winking up at him from the black velvet.

He had to give her credit. She knew his tastes.

“These are nice,” he told her with a grin. “Thank you… What else do we have here?”

Kat’s brow creased as she watched him pick up the wad of tissue still in front of him.

“There was nothing else,” she said, looking confused.

But there was something else. Peeling away the tissue paper, Bucky stared at the fucking fingers – human fingers – he held in his hands. In disgust, he dropped them onto the desk as Kat covered her mouth with her hand, backing away in horror.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, staring at those digits.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I didn’t do that. I didn’t… I feel sick.”

Kat dashed from his study like the devil was chasing her as Bucky muscled his way past the revulsion to study those digits. The fingers of a white man, toughened from work. There was no blood. No rings. No scars or other identifying marks.

Grabbing the bag, Bucky looked to see if there was something else. There was. A business card for a donut shop on Rogers’ turf. He recognized the name of the shop.

Fuck.

Posting this weekend...

[lovelybarnes]

The Thing- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: best friend bucky, i do not think it’s an au but honestly i dont know? I wrote this for fun so i made details fuzzy, innuendos. Did i check over this right im so tired About: new girl inspired. I was watching the episode with the trench coat and that fucking scen got to me like??? I had to. I started crying.

Bucky thumps around in your closet, too-long limbs making the doors shake when vibranium fingers slam against them. He grunts, followed by a disconcerting silence, only charcoaled by the metal clinking of steel hangers and heavy breaths. You purse your lips, looking up from your phone to stare at the shut doors. You can imagine him standing frozen for a glimpse of peace. Or staring at your favorite sweater, metal-finger-torn. You frown.

“Are you okay? Did you pass out?”

He huffs, more shuffling noises ensuing. “No.” Something drops to the floor.

“Pick that up!” you call when it doesn’t sound like he does.

“Why couldn’t I change in the same room? It’s cramped in here. And you’ve seen more.” He pauses and you can hear his smirk. “So have I,” he mutters pleasedly.

Your fingers reach for the closest thing and launch it at the closet. “Because the last time you did, Wanda walked in, and then Sam did, and we ended up with half of our friends staring at you half-naked on my bed.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Bucky argues.

“And my closet isn’t that small,” you quip.

Your closet doors roll open, light defining Bucky’s features and catching the blue in his irises. His sweater compliments the color too nicely than should be possible. Along with it, he wears a grimace.

“What’s wrong? You look great.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this,” he admits, pulling at a thread.

“Starting to?” you parrot. “Agreeing?” You shove your legs to the side of the bed and stand, heading toward him. “Bucky, they had to bribe you into saying maybe. And then you insisted on staying anyway the entire time up to now.”

“I would really rather stay here with you.” Bucky leans into your touch when you settle your hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

“That’s all you’ve been doing for months,” you point out.

“And I’ve really enjoyed it,” he allays.

You laugh, fingers coming to a frustrated rest on his face. You try to come up with an argument but fail, deflating. “Me too.”

He grins. “See? I’m gonna go tell them I’m just gonna stay here to watch more horror movies with you.”

You loop your index and middle around his wrist before he can leave your room. “You know how much I love you. And how much I love spending time with you. Which is why I think you should go.” You continue before he can begin to argue. “This’ll be good for you. And me. You’re kind of annoying, you know?” you tease, wrinkling your nose.

He rolls his eyes but relents, inhaling deeply. “Fine.”

“If you absolutely hate it—”

“I will.” You glare at him.

“Then I will fully support you in never going out again.”

He perks up. “You’re my best friend. You should support me before that,” he jibs.

Exasperated, you wag a lazy finger in the air. “You’re so annoying.”

The door to your room bangs open to Sam and a slightly begrudging Steve both very dressed up. Sam has a hand over his eyes, other arm extended dramatically to search around him. “Everyone decent this time?”

You glance at Bucky.

“Yes, Sam,” Bucky groans.

He grins and claps. “So we can finally go out? Do I have to drag you out kicking? ‘Cuz I will.”

“He did,” Steve remarks further.

“No,” Bucky glowers, then gestures to you. “‘Convinced me.”

“Of course,” Sam says, turning to you with a smile. “Now, you. I love you, you know that, but tonight we’re going out to have fun. Which means,” he begins to count off on his fingers, “none of the girlfriend texts or calls you send all the time.”

“They’re not girlfriend,” you argue.

“And she can call me if she needs anything,” Bucky adds.

“But try not to,” Sam insists. “Now, let’s go.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, lamely watching his friends go out the door again. He turns to you and pecks your forehead. “Call me for whatever. I’ll probably thank you if I’m not the one insinuating.”

You shove him lightly. “Have fun.”

“Love you too!” he laughs, waving once more at you before he disappears past your doorframe. It’s only a few more seconds of the guys chatting before the apartment door closes and steals away the noise with it.

You deflate, sagging onto your bed. Dazedly, your fingertips drift to your forehead, where the shadow of a kiss still warms your skin. Frustration digs its nails into your arm and your hand fists, eyes squeezing closed. There’s the sticky rush of tears in the back of your throat and you groan loudly, but it’s obstructed and thin.

You pop an eyelid open when something else catches your attention, squeezing your lips closed to focus on the thin, chalkboard scratches further away. You sit up and stare out your door for a second, before realizing it’s coming from the front door.

“Bucky couldn’t have backed out by now,” you mutter, reasoning that he could’ve forgotten something when the noise suddenly stops. “Huh,” you quip. He must’ve found it.

You sigh again, at least satisfied that the sudden burst of emotion had passed. Deciding not to dwell on it, you pull your laptop onto your bed and search for a show to watch until you come up with something better to do.

It’s an episode and a half past when the noise returns, a little louder and accompanied by a faint tapping. Hopeful, you pause the episode, expecting for it to disappear with the click of your touchpad. When it doesn’t, you tense and think, calling out your friends’ names and listening to the responding quiet.

You pull at your fingers nervously, debating stilling to will it to go away or going to investigate. Clips from yours and Bucky’s horror movie night the previous day flash in your mind, making you cringe and stay put. Silence falls after a minute, but you remain unsettled, uneasily dragging yourself off your bed, poking your head out from your room to observe the hall up to the living room. “Bucky? Sam?”

No response.

You stare at the door, expecting some tangible inference of yours to appear in the shadowed crooks of the weathered red thing. When it doesn’t, you force yourself to be brave and head down to the living room, wrapping yourself in blankets with your front facing the entrance.

You resume your show but pay only half attention to it, jumping when there’s a loud crash in a scene. Hand to your heart, you pant at the scare, dissolving into a disbelieving laugh.

“I’m an idiot,” you state to no one. “I’m scaring myself.”

You splay yourself on the couch and breathe, rationalizing.

“This is Bucky’s fault,” you say matter-of-factedly. “He’s the one who chose home invasion horror when he was leaving me home alone the night after.”

You stare at your keyboard, rubbing off a smudge on the space key.

“I hate home invasion horror,” you mutter, running a hand down your face.

“This is pathetic,” you lecture. “What am I reduced to?”

Bravely, you stand, taking your computer with you to the kitchen.

You’re gathering a ridiculous amount of oily cookie cutters in your oven-warmed apartment when you hear it again, louder and more startling than the previous times. You flinch, a multitude of colorful molds tumbling to the floor in your startlement.

You leave them in exchange for paying attention. Slowly, you slink over to the door, peeking through the peephole to see nothing. Now confused, you pull the door open, greeted with silence and an empty hallway.

You walk away once you shut the door with heavy hesitation, shoving warm cookies into your mouth, unsure.

Trying to be rational, you type out a short text contorting your panic into something a little more playful, your thumb hovering above the send button just as you remember Sam’s warning. Isn’t this what he meant? Silly requests that interrupt Bucky’s good time?

You stop, deleting everything you’d written and flipping your phone screen down on the kitchen island. Everything was fine, you were sure.

It’s juxtaposingly pleasing and frightening to hear it the next time; both disappointing and reassuring that your mind wasn’t making things up. The intervals between the noise get shorter, too, until it’s less than a half hour after the last, and you’re buzzing with paranoia.

You text your scariest friend first, anxiously waiting for Sent to turn Read below your message to Natasha, but it never does.

It takes half an hour and the noise to come back before you give up on her, instead watching Wanda’s three little dots pulse before they settle on an apology because she’s on a date.

Tony and Bruce are out of town for some convention and Thor is on vacation, meaning you’ve officially run out of friends to call for help.

Your fear builds until you can’t help yourself, powered by thorough panic when you click on your first contact number. It’s only a couple tones before Bucky answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so, no big deal, but there’s something scratching at the door and I’m worried for my life.”

“What?”

“This is your fault,” you cry. “It’s the movies, I—”

“It’s probably the neighbor’s kids playing tricks on you. You know they’re assholes.”

“But I’ve gone outside and there’s no one there. There’s no way they can run that fast, right?”

“Maybe?”

“Look, I’m really freaked out,” you admit. “I really don’t want to bother you but Nat isn’t answering and Wanda’s out on a date and it keeps coming back and—”

“Okay, hey,” Bucky’s voice comes through a little clearer, paying more attention. “It’s okay. I’ll come back, okay?”

“I’m sorry.” You feel bad. You feel so bad your skin prickles with regret, suddenly willing to stand out in the hallway and let your monster eat you alive.

“Don’t be.” You can feel the comforting nudge he gives you when he’s reassuring. “I was about to call you anyway, this is as bad as I remembered it being.”

You manage a weak laugh. “Thank you,” you say genuinely.

“Thank me by not asking questions when I somehow get there in three minutes, okay?”

You furrow your brows. “What? How would you—”

“I think that’s a question,” Bucky interrupts.

“You left already,” you conclude. “Why did you leave early?”

“I think it’s unfair you can do that.”

“I think it’s hypocritical of you to say that.” Your near peace dissipates when something scrapes down the length of your door. Uselessly, you duck down behind the kitchen island. “Are you here yet?” It’s more of a beg than anything, a longing for the sound to be his clumsy fingers with a dodging key.

“Elevator. Which means—” His voice fizzles predictably, inspiring a fresh surge of hate for the machine. A few expected seconds tick by, a click cutting them off.

“What—” You tap your phone angrily. “I hate this stupid building—”

The noise returns, sharp and close and angrier than you’d heard it. You’re only slightly comforted by the thought that Bucky should be nearby, mainly in vehement disagreement with your fate. You curl your fingers around a rolling pin and crawl closer to the door, nails digging into your palms at the close proximity of your aggressor.

The door flies open and you jump up in tandem. “Don’t! My best friend is really big and he’ll beat you up!”

Bucky stands in the doorway, blue eyes rounded, palms up and open.

You pant together for a moment, before your limbs relax in relief, rolling pin tumbling to the ground as you fall into his chest. “Oh my god.”

Automatic, his hands steady around your waist. He says your name in question, pulling you closer anyway.

“What was that?”

“I thought—I thought it was the thing.”

“The thing?”

“I don’t know what it is Bucky, that’s why I called you,” you snap, digging your nose deeper into his neck.

“I didn’t see anything outside,” he offers.

You deflate at his saccharinity. “I’m sorry. That was mean. Thank you for coming.”

“It’s okay,” he laughs, smoothing his palm over your back. It’s a comforting weight, his lovely tolerance of you endearing, although he’d frown at your choice of words. You pull away but stay at his side, laying your head on his shoulder. Your phone rings and you make no move to answer it. He looks at you questioningly.

“I left voicemails in case I died,” you explain, watching Clint’s contact picture flicker. “It might’ve been an exaggeration but look how late they’re calling. What if it were a dire situation? How useless would they be?” You fist your hand in his jacket. “I’m glad I have you.”

“You didn’t leave me a voicemail,” Bucky complains. “You never called in the first place. Whaf if you had died? What about me?”

“I called you.”

“To come here. No goodbye message.”

“It wasn’t a goodbye so much as fear-spurred insurance—”

“Well, how come I didn’t get one?”

“For one, you answered the phone. For two, I knew I’d be fine if you said you’d come. And for three, I knew you’d come if I asked.”

Bucky quiets. “I would.”

“You did,” you agree. 

Something shifts. Subtle and sweet, his heat on your skin isn’t all that casual anymore. He notices, too, shifting lightly on his feet, the weight of his fingers on your waist definitely heavier.

“So,” he starts. “I’m really big, huh?”

[pod-together]

Pod-Together Day 7 Reveals 2024

Love, not sedition (琅琊榜 | Nirvana in Fire (TV)) written by aninfiniteweirdo, performed by paintchipblue Summary: 'What is this, if not sedition?' The recording only shows stating as Xiao Jingyan doesn't answer out loud.

settling in (Welcome to Night Vale, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by Koschei_B, performed by DuskDragon39 Summary: On his trip through America, Gerry passes an town of interest. In the end, it might not be exactly all he's expected to be, but he can't say he regrets staying in the long run. At the very least, he get to live, and all the dangerous stuff around isn't his concern to deal with. And, just maybe, he likes how friendly the people are, even if it's a little creepy. Sue him. Or better yet, Mary Keay.

Voice and Heart (The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells) written by lc2l, performed by EternalLibrary Summary: Good morning this is S9BT5, the heart and voice of your Company Substation. Please be aware that we have visitors onboard the station today from a Preservation Survey Team. Staff are expected to be courteous and welcoming, and to remember that all conversations are monitored for training and enforcement purposes.

Time May Change Me (But I can't trace time) (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy) written by Little_dumpling, performed by Kittona Summary: Anakin’s mother is leaving for Europe and Anakin does not want to come along, thank you very much. But his only other option is to go live on his Uncle Qui-Gon’s horse ranch. Anakin will go, but he did not sign up to do chores!

the cul-de-sac on the spiritual path (The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir) written by olive2read, performed by carboncopies Summary: stuck in a random catacomb niche, deep in the Ninth House, Wake gets to know Gideon Nav (whether she wants to or not) -or- 5 times Gideon went to visit her mum’s niche -or- why Wake didn’t take the shot

elutriate calor vulpes (All For The Game - Nora Sakavic) written by Opalsong, performed by Flowerparrish Summary: Andrew hated heats. He hated being vulnerable and out of control. Neil…helped. [4 Heats Andrew Struggled Through + 1 He Enjoyed]

Gifts of Gold (gold) (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) written by BardicRaven, performed by BardicRavenReads, audio production by OneGoldenRaptor

Two and a Half Men (Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)) written by Sivan325, performed by Ceewelsh Summary: "Do you mind telling me why I have kid-Bucky in my apartment?" Steve asked. Tony looked at him, noticing how the man looked exhausted. "Bucky? A kid? Are you out of your mind?" "How many kids do you know who have a metal arm and long hair?" "Touché."

Blood of the Covenant (is thicker than the water of the womb) (One Piece (Anime & Manga)) written by stereden, performed by Aibhilin Summary: The little postgull drops the newspaper right in front of her and then hightails it away from Mount Corbo, and that should have been her first clue, because the bird usually likes to hang about and beg for scraps. But not this time. No. Because this time, the newspaper has her oldest brat’s picture plastered all over the front page, but it’s not the cocky grin of his wanted poster. No. It’s her kid, bruised and battered and in chains. Firefist Ace, Whitebeard Commander, to be executed! the headline proclaims for the world to see, and Dadan freezes. birds of a feather (Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)) written by travvymybeloved, performed by godoflaundrybaskets Summary: “Oh, fuck,” Glenn said and through the windshield, Henry could see him throw his joint down onto the dashboard. He threw himself half out the window, leaning out at the waist and throwing open his arms. “Come on, Henry! Go, go, go!” Henry let out a wordless honking noise and started flapping his wings, skipping against the ground and taking off in the air for a few seconds. He hit the ground, took a few shaky steps, then took off again with more confidence. Darryl whooped, starting to rev the car, and Glenn caught Henry out of the air and yanked him into the car. Darryl slammed the stick into drive, the car lurched and shot off across the field, and Ron continued cry-laughing in the backseat as they beat a quick retreat. “You almost got your butt kicked by a bird,” Ron wheezed out, wiping at his eyes, and Henry harrumphed. “Oh my God, that was great.” --- If Henry was asked to guess anything, anything, about Faerûn, "geese act as malicious guides to your soulmate" wouldn't have even made the top 100 guesses. The Hall Pass (หัวใจไม่มีปลอม | Beauty Newbie (Thailand TV 2024)) written by Wereflamingo, performed by Annapods Summary: Liu’s comfortable relationship with her boyfriend Guy gets shaken up when Guy gets cast in a Boys Love series opposite charismatic established actor Saint. Well, Liu thinks he's charismatic. Guy thinks he's extremely annoying and can't be trusted. There's no way that hall pass will ever be needed. Or: a rookie BL actor and his girlfriend acquire a third through the power of BL and complaining about your shared real/imaginary boyfriend. A story about social and parasocial relationships, monogamy and polyamory, sexuality and lack thereof, beauty, choice, and enemies-to-lovers BL, told through voice messages and phone calls on Liu's Phone.

[coquitokisses]

Trusting Again | chapter 002: the bombing

Word count: 1557

a/n: im gonna try to not put too much dialogues from the movies, yes, there will be some, but I'll try to not put too much.. it's tiring lol

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

📍London

After we went to Peggy's funeral, Steve wanted to walk Sharon back to the hotel so Sam and I are currently in the lobby waiting for him.

"What do we think about Sharon?" Sam asked "And Steve."

"She's okay." I shrugged "If he likes her, then good for him."

"Thought you two were friends."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm not friends with everyone who worked at SHIELD, Sam." I rolled my eyes

"You talked about her like you guys were friends."

"I mean, we've talked and we've obviously worked together, kinda, but I don't think friends describe our relationship."

"You hate her?"

"No, I just.. I haven't spent that much time with her to say if I like her or not."

"You're a rare breed, Cat," he rolled his eyes "you don't got any friends."

"That's not true." I looked at him "I got you."

"We're friends?" he raised an eyebrow

"Oh go to hell" I rolled my eyes and he started laughing

Yes, we are friends. We've been friends since we met, literally. But he's a pain in the ass sometimes. And I'm sure he says the same thing about me.

I looked up at the tv that was in the lobby and saw that they were talking about a bombing that happened in Vienna at the UN. And they had a video of the suspect and when I saw who it was, my jaw literally dropped on the floor.

"Look." I nudged Sam and pointed at the tv

"Holy shit." He muttered "Come on."

We got up from our seats and walked over to Steve who was talking with Sharon at the elevators.

"Steve." I called him and they both turned around

"There's something you gotta see." Sam said

In that moment Sharon received a call and after she answered it, she told us to go up to her room. Once we were there, Steve immediately turned on the tv so we could see the news.

"More than 70 people have been injured, at least 12 are dead including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous HYDRA agent..."

As they put on the video which clearly showed Bucky's face, I saw over at Steve and saw how he took a deep breath and how his body tensed.

"How the fuck..?" Sam said in a low voice since Sharon was on the phone

"That's impossible." I whispered

"What do you mean? They have a photo of him as evidence, Cat."

"Who cares about the photo, this doesn't make any sense." I sighed as I kept watching the news "There's just.. there's no way."

I really couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"I have to go to work." Sharon said

(...)

📍Vienna

So we flew to Vienna and we're currently in a little coffee shop. Steve is kinda freaking out with this whole Bucky thing, I don't blame him, I would be too if I didn't know where he has been all this time.

But I do know.

So I know he didn't do it. He wasn't even in Vienna.

"Try this." Sam gave me a piece of his dessert

"No, thanks." I shook my head

"Just try it."

"Oh my god." I rolled my eyes grabbing the fork and I ate what was on it

"Is good, right?" He looked at me waiting for my response

"It is." I replied with my mouth full and I gave him back the fork

I'm still kinda processing this whole thing. It just doesn't make sense that Bucky did it, last time I checked he wasn't even in Vienna. I gotta admit, it has been kinda hard to keep track of him, but thank god for my trainers.

A few minutes later, Steve came into the shop and sat with us after talking with Natasha.

"She tell you to stay out of it?" I asked him, he only sighed

"She might have a point, you know?" Sam said

"He'd do it for me." Steve replied

"1945 maybe." Sam responded "I'm just tryna make sure we consider all our options, the people who shoot at you usually end up shooting at us too."

"He's not lying tho." I shrugged and Steve looked at us before we saw Sharon coming in

"Tips have been pouring in since the footage went public." she said in a low voice as she stood besides Steve "Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym, most of it's noise, except for this." she discreetly handed a folder to Steve "My boss expects a briefing pretty much now so that's all the head start you're gonna get."

"Thank you." Steve said

"You're gonna have to hurry, we have orders to shoot on sight." she said before walking away again

"Still thinking she's just okay?" Sam looked at me

"Yes." I nodded

"She literally just handed Steve information on Bucky."

"She likes him." I rolled my eyes

"How do you know? Thought y'all weren't friends."

"I don't need to be her friend to notice that, you idiot, it's clear you're a guy."

"Someone clearly doesn't like Sharon." He rolled his eyes

"I never said that!" I said "You sound like such a kiss ass!"

"I am not!" He defended himself "I'm literally on Steve's side! As long as she gives us information, we're good." he shrugged

"You're an ass." I shook my head chuckling

"Both of you better keep it down or shut up, we're in public." Steve told us "We have to go."

"Go? Again?" I looked at him “Go where?”

"Romania." He replied grabbing the folder

“Oh my god, we keep getting further and further away.” I ran my hands over my face “I miss New York.”

"Come on, we have to go." He told us

"But I haven't finished my little dessert." Sam looked at him

"Ask for a to-go plate, dude." I stood up from my chair

"Damn it, man." he clicked his tongue

(...)

📍Bucharest

While Steve and Sam went to the location that Sharon gave us, I stayed in the car, I'm not tryna get killed, again. Besides, this one's on Cap, I'm only here for moral support (hopefully). And I'm listening to the radio in case they say any news. While also reading a magazine.

And in case they're about to die.

"Can you hear me?" Sam asked through the earpiece

"Yes, this is the third time you ask." I told him

"Don't move." Steve said "We might need you."

"I know" I rolled my eyes as I passed the page on my magazine "Please be careful, both of you."

"Always." Steve replied

And I just sat there, listening to the radio, reading the freaking magazine and waiting for the guys to tell me if I needed to speed down the fucking road.

Minutes passed. And I haven't heard them say anything in a while which made me worry a little but I decided to just stay chill and don't freak out. They will call if they need help.

And speaking of the devil..

"You need to come now!" Sam yelled making me jump a little

"Where are you?" I asked him throwing the magazine on the back seat

"We're on the same tunnel we took to come here!" he said "Ah, shit!" he groaned "Hurry up, dude!"

"I'm on my way."

I put the car on drive and pressed on that pedal very hard. I was at the tunnel in no time, but it wasn't that far away either.

"Holy. Shit." my mouth dropped when I saw the amount of police cars that were there

And I'm assuming they're following the guys, of course.

"Are you here?" Sam asked

"Yes, but there are too many cops, I can't see you guys." I told him as I sped up trying to pass the cops

This is fucking insane, we're getting arrested for sure.

"There are too many cops! It's literally impossible to go through!" I told him

"I have this guy onto me, dude, hurry up!" Sam said

"I literally can't!"

"Hit them or shoot them, I don't know! Fucking do something!" He yelled

"Fuck!" I hit the wheel and I took my gun out of my holster

I held the wheel with one hand and with the other one I snuck my hand out and shoot the cops tires so that I could finally pass through.

"I see you." I said to Sam when I saw him and he indeed had a guy onto him

I heard an explosion and I saw how the top of the tunnel started falling so I immediately hit the breaks, Sam stopped and moved his legs upwards making the dude go into the falling concrete. Sam stood back on the ground and I got out of the car to run up to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked him

"Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded "Ah shit."

A bunch of cops came around us pointing guns at us and yelling to put our hands up.

"Well, we're fucked." I sighed lifting my hands

They made us walk up to where Steve was and once we were there, I saw how they were arresting Bucky on the floor.

It's safe to say that they arrested us all.

Likes and reblogs will be appreciated!

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[fandoms-writings]

Could I request the fluff prompt, "Is that my shirt?" with biker!Bucky? 💗

I hope you enjoy it aud 🥺<3

Pairing: biker!bucky x reader

Word Count: 563

Warnings: none really, fluff, reader is sick (like the flu or a cold)

Come celebrate with me!

When Bucky knocked on your door, he expected you to tell him to fuck off. To leave you alone. He'd been prepared to try and convince you to just let him say what he wanted to say, to pour his heart out to you - maybe you'll listen this time, give him a second chance.

But when that door opened and you peaked through, the words died on his tongue.

You looked like death. 

You looked so tired, your hair a wreck, pajama bottoms hanging from your hips and, wait - 

"Is that my shirt?" He asked, pointing to it, the logo of the club staring back at him. 

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door frame with a heavy sigh, "What do you want?" Your voice was nasally and you sounded congested and he dropped his hand. 

"Are you sick?" He asked. 

"That obvious, huh?" You countered, the attitude from just a moment ago slipping away. 

"Do you have someone to take care of you?" 

You crossed your arms over your chest, "I don't need anyone to take care of me." 

He put his hands on his hips, "That wasn't what I asked, was it?" 

"I'm fine, Buck, I don't need someone to take care of me." 

He refused to move from his spot on your porch, waiting for you to give in and let him help. You knew him well enough to know that he'd wait out there all night if he had to - he'd done it before. 

You sighed, dropping your arms and letting them swing at your sides as you turned to walk back in the house. 

"Come on then!" You called from down the hall and he scurried to follow you, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

He spent the afternoon making you soup and making sure you were staying hydrated while you watched movies on the couch. He called Steve and told him that anything dealing with the club was on him unless it was an emergency. He wasn't to be disturbed or contacted unless absolutely necessary. 

He bundled you up in your softest blanket on the couch after you ate, bringing you ginger tea with lemon and honey in it - something his mother taught him when he used to take care of Steve. 

When you were finally relaxed and settled with your head in his lap, he finally asked again, "Are you wearing my shirt?" It was whispered as to not bother you if you'd dozed off, but your soft voice filled the air as you replied.

"Yeah, you, um," You cleared the gunk from your throat, "You left it here the other day and I just kinda threw it on this morning while I was half awake and sneezing my brains out." You moved to sit up, "I can go change though, and you can have it back." 

His hold tightened on you, keeping you from sitting up, "No, you keep it." He looked down at you, your head turned so you could see his face, "It looks better on you anyway." 

You smirked, "You know this doesn't mean you're off the hook right?" 

He huffed out a laugh and nodded, "Yeah I know, but that can wait till you feel better, yeah?" 

"Yeah," you turned your face back to the tv, "It can wait." 

Maybe that second chance was more possible than he thought.

[aurumacadicus]

Hi I'm sorry I dunno if this counts I just think seeing Tony get actually flustered by this wud be awesome, but bucky giving Tony the worse, WORST, pick up lines like "have you got a map I got lost in you're eyes" kinda bad, off bucky just cos he knows it works even tho Tony doesn't want it too, whether they know eachother before hand or not

Oh no this has awakened something in me.

"Do you have a map?" Bucky asks. Tony slants him a look over his coffee, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?" "Do you have a map?" Bucky repeats, and then, before he can answer, continues, "Because I got lost in your eyes." Tony's mouth drops open in shock. He hasn't heard a line like that in decades years. He's pretty sure he was just out of college the last time, and the guy had been a total sleeze-bag. Bucky, though, he'd somehow managed to sound sincere? Which is weird. Bucky hasn't talked to him since one halting, awkward, "Sorry for killing your parents," that Tony had brushed off with, "Hydra had my parents killed. You were just a tool." He'd meant it to assuage Bucky's guilt, but he wasn't entirely certain how well it had worked, considering Bucky had sort of... blushed, then gone ashen, then sort of looked ill, and then Steve had grabbed him and whisked him away before he threw up. So he's not entirely sure why Bucky has decided the second thing he wanted to say to him was a cheesy pickup line. "...Anyway," Bucky coughs, then picks up his bowl of cereal and leaves. Tony stares after him, still too stunned to speak. By the time he decides he's just going to take another sip of his coffee, it's gone cold.

Tony thinks it's just a weird fluke. Obviously, something in Bucky's brain just... fizzled weird. Sometimes things like that happened, probably. It was easier than trying to puzzle it. So he thinks nothing of it when Bucky sits down beside him on the couch at three in the morning. Tony knows it was just a matter of time--everyone on the team is haunted by their pasts in some way, and nightmares weren't uncommon. Bucky is silent for a while, just considering the infomercial about Snuggies Tony is watching. Tony lets him be, instead focusing on whether or not it would help to have weights along the robe's hems, or even combining the idea of a Snuggie with a weighted blanket. "Aren't you tired?" Bucky asks suddenly. Tony swivels to face him, stunned. Obviously he is tired. It is three in the morning. Bucky waits another beat, then adds, "Because you've been running through my mind all day." It takes a moment for Tony to realize it was another pickup line. By that time, Bucky has made it halfway into the elevator.

Tony arrives back from a board meeting just in time for movie night. "Tell the others I'll be out as soon as I change into something more comfortable, yeah?" he tells Bucky, already wrestling with his cuff links. "Sure," Bucky says, watching the numbers on the elevator tick up slowly, then turns his gaze on Tony. Tony endures the slow up-and-down with aplomb. Steve gives him the same look sometimes--the 'this suit is obviously worth more than I made in my previous lifetime' look. He doesn't mind it. "You know what you'd look really beautiful in?" Bucky asks. Tony tilts his head skeptically. He looks beautiful in everything. It feels like a trick question. "My arms," Bucky finishes. As soon as the line registers, and Tony realizes Bucky can't escape, he squawks and kicks him in the chest. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" Bucky bellows once he gets his breath back. "WAS THAT THE SORT OF LINE THAT GOT YOU DATES IN THE FORTIES?!" Tony bellows back. The elevator door opens, and Clint starts to step in, sees Bucky on the floor, and turns on his heel to walk back out. Bucky scrambles after him, clinging to his leg, and Tony closes the doors on Clint screaming that he didn't see anything while Bucky snaps at him to serve as a witness if Tony kills him.

Bucky gets cleared for battle. Tony thinks nothing of it. It's what Bucky's wanted, they don't have to worry about Hydra saying rock-scissors-spoon and getting control of him, and it's always nice to have another sniper (who can also function as a tank). Still. It's his first battle. He isn't used to working as part of a team. Isn't used to having backup. Isn't used to depending on anyone. He doesn't even think to call for help when he's overwhelmed by Doom bots. Luckily, Thor spots him before things go irreversibly wrong, and he only gets a concussion. Unluckily, as it turns out, there is a patient worse than Steve, and it is Bucky. Tony decides to be the bigger person and lead by example. He approaches the medical tent to have a cut on his forehead tended to. It's not a big cut, probably only needs a butterfly bandage, but he's going to be a good teammate and show Bucky that he is an idiot for not letting a medic shine a flashlight in his eyes even if his injury is already starting to heal. He flips his face plate up. "Whoa," Bucky says immediately, and then, "Tony, do you have a band-aid?" Tony narrows his eyes suspiciously. "...No. I came over here to get one." "Oh, that's too bad," Bucky replies, not looking worried about it at all. "It's just that I scraped my knee falling for you." There are witnesses this time, and Tony is vindicated by the fact that everyone is gaping at Bucky in disbelief. "ABSOLUTELY NOT," Steve shouts when Tony lifts his gauntlet, repulsor whirring, and Tony regrets trying to be the bigger person at all.

"If you and I were socks, we'd be a great pair," Bucky says, and Tony leaps over the couch to tackle him with a screech. Steve begins to stand, meaning to pull Tony off of him, then decides against it, flopping back into his seat. "...Should we do something? Natasha asks after a moment, because Tony has shown no indication of stopping trying to strangle him. "I told Bucky that Tony reacts to being wrong-footed with violence," Steve answers flatly. On the bright side, he has control of the remote now. He wants to watch CSI. Bruce peeks over the back of the couch. "Are you sure we shouldn't do something?" "Eh," Steve says, shrugging. "Either they'll kiss or they won't." "I hope they kiss. Tony will be so fucking miserable to live with if he can be smug about killing a super soldier with his bare hands," Natasha sighs, shaking her head.

Bonus: "I'm not going to date you if you keep feeding me corny lines," Tony says sternly. Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Okay, so you want me to be sincere then." "...No," Tony answers sourly. "That would be worse." "So the lesser of two evils," Bucky decides, firm, and Tony grumbles to himself at the fact that Bucky might possibly be right just this once. "Just don't call me a sock again," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. "Obviously," Bucky agrees, scowling.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Have you seen the movie gifted? It never fails to make me cry, Chris does so well in it and so does Makena god that girl knows how to act.

Honestly one of my favourite movies to date, father daughter duos are my fave. Chris acting as a parental figure is so sweet!! And who doesn't love a rough exterior guy who's good with kids.

It always loops me around to thinking about Steve having a kid dropped on him and having to navigate being a father, maybe a one night stand turned baby mama 9 months later who wants nothing to do with a baby.

Steve would be such a good dad too, I know he'd want the best for his kid. He'd have a big freak out initially and struggle but once he gets used to it a bit more he just loves it. He loves his kid and he knew that as soon as he laid eyes on the kid but now he actually has time to sit and just FEEL it. His little baby has his eyes and it makes him want to sit and cry.

One winter soldier saga later, Bucky is back and finds out Steve has a kid, maybe 2 or 3 at this point. Bucky is nervous staying with Steve while he's healing to begin with but with a kid in the house? No way. Steve manages to wrangle him to stay and Bucky and the baby actually form a little bit of a cute connection.

When Steve and Bucky find their romantic side again and Bucky is free from the hydra shit in his head, they really form their own little family. And god the domesticity of it all makes me want to cry and sob and cry. They'd both be such good dads and sooo protective, the best protected kid around I'm sure you can imagine.

I can totally see Steve and Bucky being the type of parents to be anxious messes when their baby starts school and their kid is as confident as ever, not even looking back as they run off to find friends.

Ragggh it just makes me wanna cry.

Parent Stucky for life 💔💔‼️‼️

I haven't seen Gifted (note my tag "watch? party?" lol). But, from the clips/gifs on Tumblr, it seems really sweet and like, yeah, they both do wonderfully in it!

Even though I haven't seen it, it's still wild to me whenever I realize just how old McKenna is now, haha. Like, she's still acting, but most often, because I'm not an avid consumer of movies/TV/series, I come across her in the music scene and like... when did this little girl turn into a teenage punk rock icon? 💀💀

I love it.

"And who doesn't love a rough exterior guy who's good with kids."

I have no idea! I don't even want kids personally, or really like kids all that much (I didn't grow up around younger kids and so they're a total mystery to me, lol) and it still gets me, lmao. Especially when it's Chris and/or stucky.

Steve would be such a good dad, yeah!! He'd take after his mama and be great at it <3 Definitely an adjustment, too, but he can handle it.

"He loves his kid and he knew that as soon as he laid eyes on the kid but now he actually has time to sit and just FEEL it. His little baby has his eyes and it makes him want to sit and cry."

AW

I am so amused by the idea that Steve either continues to have accidental children with one night stands because, one, that's just funny to me, two, how carried away can you get, wouldn't you learn your lesson after one misstep, no matter how much you love your baby, wrap that super dick up, Steven, and, three, not so funny, but I can actually see that happening because if this is canon Steve, why would people stop at trying to steal his blood? They'd probably also want his super serum babies, too. Then, maybe it's not that he's forgetting to wrap it before he taps it, but those pretty gals are poking holes in his condoms, acting as more heads of HYDRA 👀

So, my addition to this is me saying more kids. Not just one. By the time Bucky shows up, I want him to have two or three, haha. Like, Bucky is so fucking confused. He's like, there is one child... okay, there are two?... wait. THREE?! STEVEN, I TOLD YOU TO NOT DO ANYTHING STUPID UNTIL I GOT BACK. WHY DO YOU HAVE THREE OFFSPRING. AND--w-without me? 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh my god, though, yeah, Bucky is reeling from that. He doesn't know what to make of it. He is very much refusing at first, but I think it would end up being really good for him.

Besides, it's cute. Steve feels very, very domestic with a kid (or two) and Bucky in his house.

Exactly! The domesticity! Just their little family. Adorable <3

Oh, for sure, they're anxiety ridden parents. They both got to therapy ('cause god they need it), and they go to therapy together, and their therapist is constantly, gently reminding them that they shouldn't be so overprotective or helicoptering their kid(s). Like, sure, it's logical for the kid(s) of Captian America and The Winter Soldier, but it's only logical to a certain extent. Their baby needs to be able to have alone time and develop their own independence, too. They're teaching their kid(s) and learning themselves, too.

If you're still in the mood for kid fics, might I suggest:

"Setting: In A Honeymoon" by me

and

"you will always be my favorite form of loving" by thiccbuckybarnes

and that's it because I don't normally read kid fics myself, haha

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

3. Hors D'oeuvre

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

James winds up apologizing profusely for the insanely bad bite.

Steve’s a little disturbed that the guy would do something that rough on their first time together, but he chalks it up to the heat of the moment and forgives him,` telling James that: it's okay, he’s always been a freaky-fast healer anyway.

“S’my superpower,” he quips, making light of it when it's obvious James feels terrible.

“I’m still sorry,” he insists, thumbing carefully over the mostly-healed skin two days later. He stares at it like he stares at everything else—intensely. “I got carried away. Won’t do it again.”

Steve believes him.

Within a week, it’s pretty obvious that they’re dating. Steve kind of feels like the other shoe has got to drop at any moment, but that just keeps not happening. James is like, the perfect guy.

“He’s a doctor?” Clint says, on the third day after Bite Night. It’s movie night and he and Steve are rewatching Midsommar, because Clint’s a movie nerd and is convinced there are still hidden themes he can pick apart in the freaky-ass film. Right now the screen is paused at the exact second where they hammer the old guy’s head into paste. Clint really is a savant with a remote control.

Steve looks the gore over critically and stuffs more chips in his mouth, crunching. “Um, yeah,” he says distractedly.

He wonders how movie people make it look so real. How would they even know what to make it look like? Did one of the movie people see somebody’s head collapse in real life?”

“Earth to STEVE,” Clint waves a hand in front of his face and Steve blinks.

“What?”

“I said: what kind of doctor is he?”

“A surgeon,” Steve says, feeling warm and tingly even as he remembers it. He’s not only met a smart, sexy and funny older guy— he’s met a surgeon. Which automatically means he’s rich, too. Nobody is that fucking lucky in love, certainly not Steve.

“Of what?” Clint prods. “Like, hearts and brains? or boob jobs?”

Steve pauses with another handful of chips. Hm. That’s a good question. “I don’t know,” he says. “What’s it matter?”

“It matters because it’ll determine how much I esteem the guy,” Clint insists.

Steve snorts. “What? If he's a plastic surgeon he doesn’t deserve your respect?”

“Are you kidding? I’d respect him more if that’s what he was.” Clint grimaces. “I respect the hell out of anybody who can pull people’s skin off and rearrange it and unnatural shit like that. S’way more horrible than operating on a regular old heart or whatever.”

Steve makes a face as he considers that. “Yeah, I guess so. I heard once that when they do a nose job they literally like, pull the nose up off the face first.”

Clint gags. “Dude! No. My brain can’t unknow this now!”

“And yet you can watch shit like this.”

Clint presses play and the film resumes, the frame shifting from pasted-guy's head, to Florence Pugh's horrified face. “That's different," he says. "It’s movie magic, dumbass.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re a dumbass.”

James tasks Steve with picking an actual date activity for them to do next. “No pressure,” he teases him over the phone, “but I hate stereotypes.”

Well. So much for mini golfing or the movies.

The place is called Bad Axes, their logo is a butt with an ax lodged in it, and the only two things to do there are drink beer and throw axes. Steve doesn’t reveal what they’re headed for when they meet at the subway, so James doesn’t know what's in store until they’re standing right outside the business' doors with the logo on them.

He stares for a long, long moment, and then busts out with the loudest, most sudden laugh. He looks over at Steve with a pained, almost hysterical expression.

Steve laughs. “What?”

“Nothing!” James squeaks. “This’ll be fun!”

Steve spends the rest of the date preening over the fact that he’s impressed his boyfriend.

(He only calls him that in his head, so far. He knows they’re not ‘boyfriends’ yet. They’re still feeling each other out, trying on the idea of being boyfriends. It’s just hard for Steve to remember that, when everything feels so natural between them.)

They grab drinks and get the safety and throwing tutorial from the unimpressed girl whose job it is to supervise drunk businessmen throwing sharp objects after work. It’s an over-the-head kind of deal, and Steve is prepared to nurture his manly pride and leave feeling a little bit like a Viking.

“Want to bet on who wins?” James asks, where he stands beside Steve in their little throwing area, a devilish gleam in his eye.

Steve considers it. The Axe Girl had told them it’s not so much a strength thing as a technique thing, so he’s not worried about being at a disadvantage. “Sure," he decides. "What are we betting on?”

“Hmm, how about … loser has to tell a secret about themselves,” James says. “First to stick the target twenty times wins.”

Steve’s stomach jumps at the look in James' eye. He grins. “You’re on.” Steve doesn’t have any good secrets anyway, so losing won't be a big deal (even though he fully intends to win).

They throw.

There’s a certain amount of body memory to it, Steve discovers after about fifteen minutes of fruitless throwing, his axe cracking off the plywood and thunking pathetically to the ground each time. He winds up getting the hang of it, but not in time to win the bet. James’ axe sticks on the first throw, and the second, and most of the times after.

Steve sulks about it as they take a break at one of the high-top tables, drinking their second round. “You’ve done this before,” he pouts, accusing. “Admit it.. You're a secret lumberjack.”

James looks at him fondly, like he thinks Steve’s reaction is cute. “Not exactly. But I've chopped enough to know my way around an axe.”

Steve grumps playfully at him. “Fine, cheater. I’ll think of a secret to tell you.” Bucky chuckles while Steve sips his beer and tries to come up with something juicy enough to be a ‘secret’ but not so juicy that it reflects badly on him. “I used to get in fights a lot."

James rolls his eyes. “Like as a kid? That doesn’t count.” He shoots him a sly look. “Adult secrets, Steven.”

Steve flushes at the use of his given name. There’s something oddly domineering about it that he likes. “Um, well … I've been arrested?”

James’ eyes light up. “Oh, do tell.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not.”

“It wasn’t!” Steve laughs, shoving James’ shoulder. “It was a bar fight, basically. Some asshole bothering this woman he didn’t know, not taking no for an answer.”

James’ smile softens to something fond. “Aw, Steve. I should'a known. That's you then? Always trying to be a white knight?”

Steve scowls at the term but doesn’t try to deny it. “Well somebody had to do something,” he mutters. “I wasn’t the one who threw the first punch.”

“Why the arrest, then?”

“The charges were dropped. But I guess the jerk had some friends backing him up when the cops came, so I got rounded up too.”

James hums in understanding. “Well, I suppose that’s sort of a secret. But I have to say, I was really hoping for something a little more intriguing from you, Steve. A little more naughty.”

Steve snorts. “Why? You planning to blackmail me?”

“No.”

“You just like bad boys, then,” he jokes. He’s about the farthest thing there is from a bad boy. “Sorry. You’re outta luck with that one.”

“I’m not,” James says quietly, looking him in the eyes. “I actually like the sweet ones.”

Steve colors, he knows he does. “Oh.” He’s a sweet one. He chuckles and looks down at his beer bottle, turning it in little circles. “Thanks. I guess.”

James hums. “Hey, why don’t I apologize for my non-disclosure of my axing abilities, huh? I’ll tell you one of my secrets, too.”

“I’m all ears. What’s your secret?” In his head, Steve sarcastically imagines James saying something like, “I’m actually married and have two point five kids,” or, “I’m addicted to piss and shit porn.”

That’s not what he says.

“I’ve eaten human flesh.”

Steve blinks. “What.” He waits for the punchline, the second part of that confession that’ll make it funny, but there isn’t one. James just sits there and nods somberly. Steve laughs. “No, you haven’t. You have not.”

“I was just out of med school and interning at a center for pediatric reconstructive surgery in Shanghai.”

The smile drops right off Steve’s face. So he is a plastic surgeon, he thinks. He'll have to tell Clint. "The fuck?" he breathes.

James' mouth twists. “Yeah. That's what I said, when I realized."

"You're making this up," Steve says weakly, even though he can tell he's not, because James is sitting there looking completely serious and nodding grimly.

"We'd gone out to a rural village, to assess a few kids for cleft palate correction. There was a mud slide on the only road out of the valley, and we wound up stuck there for a few days."

“What—” Steve realizes he’s nearly whispering. He firms up his voice. “What happened?”

“I was served a meal from a local family, already cooked.”

“Oh." Steve exhales in relief. "So then, you didn’t actually see—”

“No.” James cants his head. “But it wasn’t any meat I’d ever had before. It was …” He trails off, eyes going distant as he thinks about it. “It was so different.”

Steve stares at him, shocked. “But … but that's a big leap. I mean it could’ve been anything. Dog or ... or tiger. Don’t they have tigers in China?”

“Not in that part of the country.” James watches Steve closely for a moment, gauging his reaction. Eventually he looks away, frowning. “And you could tell there was something going on. There was ... At the time, I didn't understand, but it was the way the villagers acted. There was something off about them, something about the way they skulked around, the way they looked at us. How gaunt they all were ..." He shakes his head, deep in thought. "I did some research once I got back. There are some recorded accounts; those soccer players that crashed in the Andes, the Donner party. An anthropologist in the thirties who ate with a tribe in Africa. He wrote a very detailed account of how the different cuts of the meat tasted, what it looked like, what it smelled like.” He inhales deeply, as though pulling himself out of the memory. When his gaze lands back on Steve, it's dead serious and shockingly nonchalant. “It all matched up to what I’d eaten.”

Steve gapes, horrified. He can’t believe that it was a … a human that James had been served. It was too awful. People wouldn’t do that. ... Would they? “It wasn’t,” he says, as if he can make it so by saying it. “They wouldn’t have.”

James still doesn’t seem bothered, though he has pity in his eyes for Steve, apparently able to see how shaken he is by it. “You gotta understand, it was a bad situation. A dead, closed off valley where nothing ever grew. The Chinese government had banished these people out there for some slight, blocked off their access to food. It was like a gulag. These people were living in extreme poverty: cold, sick, and halfway starving. Animals'll do anything when they’re starving."

"Animals ..."

He shrugs and sits back in his chair. "At the end of the day, that’s all we really are. Some very big, overly-clever animals.”

Steve swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He reaches for his beer and takes a hasty swig. “How do you, um, how do you deal with it, then?” he asks. “If you really think that’s what it was?” He’s a little bit stunned by how calm James has remained through telling the whole story.

“It doesn’t bother me,” James says easily. “There’s no way I can know for sure that’s what I ate that day, and I didn’t do it on purpose.” He shrugs and waves it off. “It was so long ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Wow,” Steve says, stunned. “I mean, just … no. And wow.”

“Pretty big secret, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, trying to lighten up. James isn’t dwelling on it and he probably doesn’t want Steve to, either. “Yeah, you have, um. Much juicier secrets than me.”

James tips his bottle back for the last dregs of his beer, then clacks it firmly down onto the table. “So,” he says, eyes regaining their challenging, sly glint. “Now that you know my deepest, darkest secret; want to throw another round?”

A few days later, at precisely 11:30 am, Steve receives a text:

Weird Meat Guy: Hey you. I’m starving. Want to grab lunch with me?”

Steve looks down at his dirty work clothes. Yikes. Knowing himself, he figures there's a good chance he also has paint in his hair or on his face, or both.

Steve: yeah sounds good. In 30 or so? Gotta wash up.

Weird Meat Guy: see you soon, handsome.

James texts him an address that's in Park Slope, followed by a cartoon ‘nom-nom’ eating GIF. Steve holds his phone with gesso-crusted fingers and beams at the screen. James must like Steve just as much as Steve likes him, because he’s thinking about him during the week. He’s texting him and sending stupid GIFs and asking him out on lunch dates.

This is going incredibly well.

It's nothing fancy, which Steve appreciates. They meet inside a Panera by Prospect Park. They order drinks and find chairs to sit in by the windows while their sandwiches are made. “Don't you work in Midtown though?” Steve asks, confused. “This is a bit of a hike for a lunch break.”

James stares at him for a long few seconds, blinking repeatedly. “... Oh! Well … I had a big gap between clients today.” He smiles winningly and covers Steve’s hand with his own on the tabletop, giving it a squeeze. “There’s nobody I’d rather make the hike for.”

Steve tries not to let his smile overtake his face, but it’s hard.

Their food arrives, and they eat while trading stories about themselves. Steve tells James how he lives and works alone, but doesn’t mind it one bit. He tells him about his family, or at least, what family he used to have.

“So, nobody?” James asks. “You’re all alone?”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, thinking that James might be feeling pity for him. “I miss my mom, but it’s been a long time. And I’ve made a couple friends. They help.”

“Oh yeah? Who're your friends?”

“Oh. Well there's Clint. We met back in college. And Natalie. She’s the one I told you about.”

“Your patron.” James nods. “I remember.” He leans forward. “So do they know about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell them about me?”

Steve smirks. “Oh I dunno. Just that I met a really good looking weirdo at the grocery store. Haven’t called the police on him yet.”

James laughs. “That’s all?”

“Pretty much.” Steve shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich, unconcerned with it. “Clint says he respects you for being able to—and I quote—‘pull people’s skin off and rearrange their outsides’.”

James’ lips quirk. “Well, it is a skill.”

Steve shivers theatrically. “Uck. Power to you. I guess somebody’s gotta do it."

"Alas, yes. The meat market. Demand is only ever growing."

Steve snorts. "Well hey, at least it means you’re, ah … intimately familiar with anatomy.” He winces before he's even finished saying it. Ew, what a lame joke.

But James’s eyes crinkle in amusement anyway. “Yes," he says, reaching for his sandwich again. "I certainly am.”

Steve has James over to Netflix and Chill. He’s not sure if this counts as their sixth date or seventh, but they’ve been seeing each other steadily for the past three weeks, calling and texting daily, so it’s definitely not too soon to start thinking about the “R” word. That’s where it feels like this is headed, but Steve is too chickenshit to speak up and ask if they’re officially in a relationship.

He researches how to make eggplant parmesan and mostly doesn’t screw it up, and James seems touched that he went through the trouble of cooking something vegetarian for him.

“It’s delicious,” he reassures Steve. “I even like the crusty black bits.”

He asks Steve what he does for fun, and Steve is once again left feeling like a boring dolt when he can only answer, “I mean, I really just paint or draw, or watch tv. Clint tries to drag me out for bowling or karaoke once in a while.” He fights not to wince at himself. Jesus god is he boring. He thinks again about joining a gym, maybe getting into boxing or Krav Maga or something. “What about you?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not carving people up?”

“Hardy har.” James thinks about it. “Well, I do love to do stuff outdoors. I work out ...”

“Yeah you do,” Steve teases, leering a little. James laughs him off.

“I read some, usually have two books going concurrently.”

Steve imagines James having a big, expensive library, complete with those nifty rolling ladders.

“And I’m a pretty good cook,” he adds. “I enjoy it. Working on being an amateur cuisinier, as I said.”

Steve pointedly looks at both of their plates of semi-burnt eggplant slop. “Then why am I the one making us dinner?”

James chuckles, leans across the table to kiss him on the cheek, and promises he’ll cook for Steve sometime soon.

After dinner, Steve pulls up his Netflix queue and scrolls through for something that looks good but not too good, since they’ll probably start fooling around partway through and miss half of it.

They watch a documentary about Richard Ramirez, which Steve apologizes for. (“I know, I know. Me and every other basic white girl likes the true crime stuff.”)

Halfway into Ramirez’s fucked up childhood, Steve says, “Man, what would you do if your kid turned out like that, huh?”

“Question my parenting choices, that’s for sure.”

“I know, right?" Steve shudders. "I feel so bad for Jeffry Dahmer’s mom.”

“Why? She’s alive and kicking. Feel bad for Ed Gein’s mom: pretty sure she’s a lampshade now.”

“Christ.”

James looks over at Steve. “Do you want kids?”

Steve freezes, the unexpected change in topic throwing him for a loop. “Um …” Not ones that'll turn me into a lampshade, he doesn't say.

This is something they haven’t done yet; asked each other what they want for their lives long-term. Because such questions naturally infer that they might be considering each other for a starring role in said life.

Steve swallows heavily and works up the courage to softly admit, “Yeah, one day I do.” He dares to meet James’ eyes, and is relieved when he doesn’t see any rejection there. “I want what most people do, I guess. Get married, have kids.” He shrugs. “The American dream, right?”

“What? No white picket fence and a dog named Fido?”

Steve deflates a little. “Don’t make fun.”

“I wasn’t.” James scoots closer and puts his arm around him. “Hey. No, Honey. I wasn’t making fun of you. I want that stuff too.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm.” He kisses Steve's cheek. “I’m glad you told me,” he says. “Makes you even more of the perfect catch.”

Steve snorts. "Yeah. Sure."

James is the perfect catch, Steve is just incredibly lucky.

James has to go on a sudden work trip, and it's a solid week that they're apart.

The next time he comes over to Steve's place, he’s barely in the door before Steve is slamming it shut and pushing him up against the wall. He sinks to his knees and looks up at James, whose eyes have gone from widened to heavy-lidded in seconds. "Hey."

James smiles lazily and cups his cheek. “Hey there.”

Steve touches him over his jeans, starts rubbing slow and purposeful. After a moment or two, James gets hard enough that he can feel it through the denim. He knees in closer, pushes his face into his groin and rubs his cheek along the bulge of his dick.

James’ hands migrate to his head, running through his hair, over his scalp. “Mm,” he hums, amused. “Did you miss me, Sweetheart?”

It’s been little more than a week apart, but Steve has missed him embarrassingly much. He makes a plaintive noise against James’ crotch and nods. “Yeah.” He’s barely heard from the other man. He doesn’t want to complain though, because it’s still early for them and he doesn’t want to seem too needy.

James had warned him he’d be very busy working and mostly unreachable. He'd had to take a flight out for a surgery consult somewhere—Steve can’t remember where. It doesn’t matter. He’s just glad James is back. He looks up from his spot on the floor, batting his eyelashes and reaching for the front of James’ pants. “Can I?”

James grins and relaxes back against the wall. “All yours,” he says, watching Steve like he’s ready for a show. Steve flushes in a heady mix of arousal and shyness. He tucks his lips in as his fingers find the button at James’ fly, pop it open and pull down the zipper. He curls his fingers over the waistband at James’ hips and pulls, until the jeans are halfway down his thighs. He stops.

James is wearing briefs today—white, and with a waistband that has black lettering: Calvin Klein. Steve grins as arousal hits him harder, his own dick stirring in his sweats. “Tighty-whities, huh?” he teases, and when he looks up, he sees James looking down at him, amused.

“What? You don’t approve?”

“Oh, I approve.” He presses his face against the front, against the hardening line of James’ dick beneath the fabric. What he really likes is to see it get hard from the very start, and he's already making a plan to have James naked for this from the get-go, next time. He palms the soft weight of James’ balls through the fabric while placing kisses along the length of his stirring dick. “Been wanting to do this since that first night,” he murmurs. He rubs his other hand over him, circling the wet spot just by the head. “You've got such a nice cock.”

James makes a pleased noise. “Why don’t you get it out, then?” he says softly, one hand cupping Steve’s chin. His thumb pulls down on Steve’s bottom lip. “I want to see your pretty mouth stretchin' around it.”

Steve moans quietly and nods, fingers hurrying to pull his underwear down. James’ cock bobs obscenely in the air once it’s released, still angled downward from the weight of it and from only being half hard. Steve licks his lips, excited at finally getting to really appreciate it up close. He hasn’t had much chance yet, but he’s seen it, knows that it's beautiful.

James is big—as big a top can get before it becomes counterproductive, in Steve's opinion. A respectable length, with a truly mouth watering girth. His balls are soft and warm in Steve’s palm where he holds them. James is shaved there, while everything else is trimmed down short. "Sir," Steve teases, fondling the smooth weight of his balls. "I may just have to wind up sucking on these."

Above him, James chuckles lowly. "Gotta do what you gotta do, Steven. I won't hold it against ya."

Fuck. What is it about James saying his given name like that? It's so hot, feels almost dirty. Steve can't hold back anymore. He takes his cock in hand and explores it with the gentlest of touches, tracing a prominent vein that runs underneath and up along the side, circling his finger on the wet head that’s peeking out, just barely pressing the tip of his thumb into the slit. He bites his lip as it twitches and jerks. Fuck. It’s fucking beautiful.

Above, James makes a sound in his throat, and when Steve looks up he sees him looking darkly amused. “You sure are taking your sweet time with that, Princess.”

Ooh, Princess. That’s a new one. Steve smirks. “I can take all the time I want.”

He says that, but in the next few seconds he’s already lost his patience, too eager for more. He wants to feel it on his tongue, wants to taste it. He sucks the head into his mouth and is rewarded by James’ quiet groan.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Mm.”

Steve sucks him, swirling his tongue over the head and pulling gently with his hand, jerking him off a little while he sucks. He keeps it up, feeling James twitch and grow in his mouth, until he’s fully erect, and Steve just has to pop off to see. His own hand looks tiny and pale on James' dick. He jerks him softly and groans at the sight of the foreskin sliding over the weeping, fat tip. God, Steve loves uncut guys.

James is watching him with heavy eyes, his lips slightly parted, enthralled at the sight of Steve exploring down between his legs. Steve smirks up at him and looks him in the eye as he kisses along his thigh, hipbone, pelvis; all the way up to his stomach and belly button and back down. He rubs his cheek on the hot juncture of his groin and returns to stroking his cock at a languorous pace. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. “Could do this all day.”

“Oh yeah?” James cards a hand through Steve’s hair—a hand that Steve is very smug to note is trembling the tiniest bit—and leaves it there, caressing his scalp. “Can you go deeper?” he asks quietly, offering it up rather than demanding it.

Steve appreciates the concern, but he’s eager to show off. “‘Can I go deeper’,” he mutters, scoffing. “Hold onto your dick, Honey. This is gonna feel really good.” He sucks James’ cock back into his mouth, only this time he keeps going, taking it all the way until it's in his throat and his nose is buried in the short hair at the base.

Above him, James finally loses his composure, his breath stuttering out in a stifled, “Oh, fuck.”

Steve hums eagerly. He grabs onto the back of James’ thighs and squeezes, uses the grip to yank him even closer. He slides his hands up and grabs at his ass, able to feel the muscles tensing and relaxing as James tries so hard not to thrust into his mouth. Steve pulls off and meets his eyes. “You want to fuck my face?” he asks, eager to give James whatever he wants. “You can.”

James looks utterly smitten. He hooks his thumb in at the corner of Steve’s mouth and pulls gently. “Sweet boy,” he murmurs. Steve’s about to take that as a ‘yes’, but then James tells him otherwise. “Another time,” he says. “Right now I just want to watch you work for it.”

Steve’s belly flips in arousal. Fucking hell. He reaches down to squeeze his own dick, which is painfully constricted in his sweatpants by now. He mostly ignores it though, wanting to put all his focus into pleasing James and pulling more wrecked sounds of pleasure from him. This is a relationship Steve really wants to go the distance in, okay? So he shoots James his best sultry look while wettings his lips, and then sinks right back down with eye contact, prepared to give this man the best head of his life.

They shower together, after coming from each other’s hands and mouths. It’s an intimate experience, standing naked and sated together under the spray of the water, touching each other’s bodies without intent. It’s almost more intimate than the sex they’ve just had.

Steve shivers and luxuriates in it as James stands behind him and runs water-slicked hands over his body, not speaking, just enjoying what he’s touching. He kneads the meat of Steve’s ass, his thighs, draws soapy-slick circles down his ribs and across his belly. He kisses and mouths at his neck as he touches him all over. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, and that’s the only word uttered between them for the entirety of the shower.

Later, when they’re sitting together on the couch, drinking wine and talking lazily with nothing but towels wrapped around their waists, James describes his apartment in Manhattan. It’s centrally located but small, because “real estate in the city is sickening.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve murmurs, giving his own shoebox of an apartment a onceover.

James insists that he spends as little time in the city as possible. His preferred residence (because of course he has multiple) is “in the wilderness.”

“Jersey?” Steve asks, lip curled in a sneer.

“Oh no! A little more wild than that,” James laughs, pouring more wine into the glass Steve’s holding out. “It’s out in the Catskills," he confides. "My secret cabin."

"The Catskills?" Steve frowns, trying to think of how long of a drive that must be. “I’ve never been."

“Oh you’d love it,” James insists. “It’s gorgeous out there. Miles and miles of trees. Peace and quiet, no neighbors to bother you.” He smiles wistfully. “It’s the one place I can really let go and relax, be myself. It’s my retreat.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Steve says. James looks so happy when he talks about it, it makes Steve want to go there with him. “Will you take me there someday?” he asks. He’s very aware that the question implies that they’ll still be together down the line. That this thing they have, whatever it is, will continue.

James considers him thoughtfully, though, eyes soft and mysterious, not seeming to mind that Steve is envisioning them in the future. He peers at him in that intense, evaluating way that he has. “Well,” he says. "I mean why not? That'd be fun. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what? Do it?” Steve repeats, surprised. “You mean like a trip? Like, now?"

“Yeah!" James laughs. “We can go for a few days. I’ll drive us out there and we can just relax together. Cook, watch movies. There’s hiking around the area. And I have a hot tub.”

Steve gasps. “I love hot tubs!”

James laughs and holds out his arms for Steve to climb into his lap. He wraps his arms around him and kisses him. “Okay then, it’s settled. When do you want to go?”

Steve tries to remember his work schedule for that next week, but his thoughts are a little slowed by the warm and gooey feelings he’s got filling him up. James wants to spend a weekend with him. He wants to take him away, show him his favorite place. Steve squirms happily in the other man's lap and tucks his face into his neck, inhaling the rich, clean scent of him and pleased as punch, because this means that James really likes him, and maybe even wants to make him a part of his life.

Jesus Christ, maybe Steve's actually, finally done it. Maybe he really has managed to scoop up the last remaining, non-married, high-value homosexual who actually wants to be in a serious relationship.

It's too good to be true!

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[doasyoudesireandlive]

Falling for you like the leaves do

This is my fic for @jadedvibes cute falling in love writing challenge! Hope you like it!

pairing: college!Stucky x college!reader (platonic.... for now)

Summary: The thermostat in your flat is dead. Will the boys come to your rescue?

Word count: 924

warnings: fluff, cuddling, intoxication, pining, friends to lovers, flirting, they are all idiots in love, shirtless boys.

Autumn was definitely here. Fallen leaves crunching under the sole of your boots, knitted sweaters and hot drinks in front of a lit fireplace. Your favourite time of the year. Being done with the few classes you had to attend today, you’re walking back to your flat. The autumn wind making the tip of your nose rosy and hands cold.

Locking yourself into your apartment, you hum at the temperature inside. Why is it so cold here? What is going on? You look around the flat, checking for open windows. Then you glance at the thermostat. The display is pitch black. You try pressing a few buttons, groaning when you get no response whatsoever. You try calling the janitor, but you’re sent directly to voicemail. You sigh loudly as you flop down on your couch. It really is freezing, goosebumps appearing on your skin. You take out your phone and open the text app.

Y/N:

Hey, Stevie. You and Bucky home? The thermostat in my flat is fucked and its so cold here. Mind if I come over?

You get an answer right away.

Stevie:

hey! Sure, sweetheart. Come over. But bring snacks <3

You chuckle. Snacks it is. You pack a few things in your bag, and head to the store. You buy the boys’ favourite snacks and head over to their flat.

You ring the doorbell and wait. Quickly smoothing down your hair and glancing over your own outfit before the door opens. The sight that meets you make you gasp.

“My sweetest Blossom” a tipsy, shirtless Bucky greets you. Now you get why you had to bring snacks. Bucky and Steve are hungry drunks.

Bucky pulls you in to the flat and hugs you. The smell of cologne and something that is just Bucky makes your heart flutter. He holds you tightly, and ends the hug with a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You are pretty sure he was aiming for your cheek, but hey, he’s drunk as a skunk.

“Bucky, you flirt” you shove him playfully.

“And don’t you love it, doll” Bucky says, winking at you.

Steve comes from the kitchen, a pack of beers in his hand.

“Heeeey, baby! You’re here!” He runs towards you, lifting you up and embracing you in a big hug.

Giggling, you snuggle against him and wrap your legs around his torso.

“I’ve missed youuuu, you smell so goooood” Steve slurs, rubbing his nose on the side of your neck. You very ticklish so by now you are laughing wholeheartedly.

Steve finally puts you down, and his hands come up to cup your face. He moves closer, the tips of your noses touching. He stares into your eyes, but your eyes flicker down to his mouth. He’s not gonna kiss you, is he? The timbre of his voice pulls you back to reality.

“Baby…. You brought the snacks right?” You actually feel disappointed when he pulls back.

Clearing your throat, you point to the bag by the door. You dropped it there when Bucky dragged you in.

“yaaay, snacks!! Thank youuuuuu, I looove you” Steve is peppering your face with kisses, one of them right on your mouth. You gasp, but Steve doesn’t even notice. He’s already pulling out the snacks from the bag.

“Wanna watch a movie, doll?” Bucky throws his arm over your shoulder. “You can choose?” his ocean blue eyes meet yours. “Please?” He puts on a puppy dog pout.

You laugh. “Of course, pretty boy” you put your finger under his chin and smirk at him. His eyes flicker down to your lips and a blush creeps up his neck.

“Well after you then, blossom” he kisses your cheek, leading you towards the couch.

All three of you plop down on the couch, and you scroll until you find a gory horror movie. Nothing screams cozy autumn like a horror movie. Drinking beer and eating snacks soon gives you nice buzz.

The boys are still shirtless, it’s so hot in the flat. Your boots and knitted sweater discharged long ago. You sit comfortably, tucked into Bucky’s side, his right arm holding you close. Feet in Steve’s lap.

Steve runs his hand up and down your leg, almost absent-minded while you watch the movie.

You can’t focus on the movie tho. The butterflies in your stomach being very busy having a mosh pit. Bucky can feel you tensing up.

“Scary, doll?” he whispers in your ear, tugging you closer to lay your head on his chest. You simply hum, the intimate action making you swoon.

You start to feel sleepy, the comfort of Bucky’s chest calming you down. You start to nod off, when Steve crawls into Bucky’s lap as well, laying his head beside yours. Bucky plant kisses on both your heads and you fall asleep as Steve’s arm wrap around you.

You wake up. Not remembering where you are, you tense up. Then the warmth and light snores brings you back to the present. Bucky and Steve looks beautiful. You glance down and your breath hitches when you see their fingers intertwined, holding you close.

You tip your head up, kissing Bucky – a feather light kiss ghosting over the corner of his mouth. Then you lean down and do the same to Steve, the intimacy making your heart race in your chest.

Laying down on Bucky’s chest again, you whisper

“I’m falling in love with you… both of you.” Snuggling closer you drift into sleep again, warm and content.