#Sam & Bucky

[evansbby]

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐞𝐬 {𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞}

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, noncon, dubcon, daddy!kink, hardcore misogyny, degradation, possessive Steve, inebriation, mentions of alcohol. MINORS, DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve throws a Halloween party and you try your hardest to be the perfect little host. {happy spooky szn, everyone!! this poyt drabble is a halloween special, set after Steve mated with Omega, and has no effect to the plot/main story of preying on you tonight}

“What the fuck is this?”

The abrupt sound of Steve’s voice makes your blood run cold, the orange and black crepe paper slipping from your hands and dropping to the floor.

“Steve, I… uh.” Daring to meet his heated gaze, your heart pitter-patters pathetically and you immediately avert your eyes, staring at the ground and fingers fidgeting nervously.

“Hi, Steve!” Natasha says brightly, giving the alpha a huge smile. She’s sat cross-legged next to you, sorting through a bunch of sparkly jack-o-lantern wall stickers that she’d brought over with her. You’re both on the floor in Steve’s and your bedroom, sorting through various party decorations.

He glowers at her before turning back to you, “What’s she doing here?”

“She’s… she’s just…” It’s not an ideal moment for your stutter to flare up, but Steve looks so annoyed. And you knew he’d be like this the moment Natasha showed up at your doorstep with a peppy smile and a bunch of Halloween decorations in her arms, matching the ones you’d bought just this morning.

Steve, Bucky and Sam were hosting a Halloween party tonight. Steve had only just informed you yesterday, and in the early hours of the morning, while Steve was at football practice, you’d gone to the nearby party shop to stock up on decorations. Because parties needed decorations, right? And the three alphas hadn’t really done much to spruce up the place. In fact, you’d spent the majority of the afternoon vacuuming and cleaning the downstairs area before Natasha had shown up to help you.

“We’re making streamers, duh.” Natasha blinks up at Steve innocently, but her nonchalance seems to wind him up even more.

“Omega.” Steve gives you a stern look, and immediately you stand up, scurrying over to him. He puts a heavy arm around your shoulders, crushing you into his chest. “You know you’re not allowed to have people over.”

You’re about to apologise before Natasha pipes up.

“Relax, Steve. I came over unannounced. Thor told me about the party and I thought she could use some help since I doubt that you’ll be doing any decorating.”

Steve doesn’t even look at her, but you can see his eyes flashing with annoyance. And you know why he’s mad too. Steve likes to have you ready and waiting for him on his bed when he comes home all riled up from football practice. Carnal, sweaty, amped up and filled with testosterone and pent-up aggression, he usually fucks you hard and fast when he gets home, before dragging you to the shower for more sex. But he can’t quite do any of that with Natasha here.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.” Natasha says from across the room, making Steve glare at her with blazing eyes. If looks could kill…

“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut and just observe.” He jeers, “Learn how a well-trained omega is supposed to act around an alpha.” He tightens his grip on you, making a show of reaching down to squeeze your ass. You yelp helplessly, wishing he wouldn’t do that in front of her.

“Congratulations, Steve. You run such a strict regime that she’s literally afraid of you.” Natasha rolls her eyes, her voice dripping in sarcasm. But she bites her lip and shoots you an apologetic look when she sees you wince.

You know Natasha’s dynamic with Thor – her alpha boyfriend – is a lot different from you and Steve. You’ve seen her make fun of him, roll her eyes at him, and even raise her voice at him. You could never do any of that with Steve – but was it that obvious that you were afraid of him?

“I’m gonna go put the streamers up downstairs.” Natasha says, quickly getting to her feet and skipping over to the door. She turns back to pointedly look at you, ignoring Steve, “You can join me later and help me with the balloons.”

The door has only just closed behind her and Steve’s already dragging you to the bed, sitting down with his muscular thighs spread, and pulling you onto his lap.

“What is all this?” He gestures at the decorations strewn about on the floor.

You squirm, “I just thought that we’d need some decorations for your party. But I can tell Natasha to take them down if you don’t like them.”

He frowns, “Did you buy all this yourself?”

“Yes.”

“How many times have I told you to use my card when you’re buying things?” He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tugging upwards till you’re looking at him.

“I…I have my own money, Steve.” Well, not much of it ever since he made you quite your job. But your bank balance never decreased, seeing as Steve paid for literally everything for you; from your food to your clothes to your shoes and everything in between.

He doesn’t answer, instead reaching into his pocket for his phone and tapping away. Not ten seconds later, you feel your own phone vibrate.

Steve R. transferred you $200

Your eyes widen, “The decorations didn’t cost that much–”

You’re interrupted by his lips pressing down on yours, large hands cradling your face gently as he kisses you. And if you could replay it every time he kissed you, just replay it in slow-motion, you would do it a hundred times over. It’s insane how the butterflies erupt in the depths of your tummy as he draws you closer still, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip.

“An omega is not meant to pay for anything – it’s the responsibility of her alpha to take care of her.” He says against your lips before pecking you a few more times, “But it’s pretty cute, you know. You going on a little grocery run for the party.”

You nod, “I tried to think of everything we’d need. I’ve never hosted a party before so I wasn’t sure.” You pause, “Sorry, I know I’m not hosting this party. It’s your party.” You shake your head, averting your gaze from his because looking at him too long makes you all nervous and squirmy.

“I – uh – I got all kinds of decorations from the Halloween section – like streamers and balloons and whatnot. Natasha got some too.” You try not to get distracted by his finger sensually tracing shapes on your thigh. “I also got snacks. Like chips and popcorn and soda. I was also going to bake cupcakes with orange and black frosting but I didn’t have time. I’m sorry. But I got store-bought ones that look pretty good.”

Steve stares at you for a prolonged period of time during which about a million concerns surface inside your head. Had you done too much? Had you not done enough? But you breathe a sigh of relief when he leans down to cover your face in kisses, his lips sponging from the corner of your mouth before dipping down to nip at your jaw and finally finding their place on his mark on your neck.

“Look at you, running errands like a perfect little housewife.” Steve pinches your cheek condescendingly, “I always knew you were such a good little omega, baby. I’m proud of you.”

Proud. You glow at his praise, subconsciously nuzzling your cheek against the warm palm of his hand, chirping happily when he strokes you. It’s insane how much his praise and approval means to you, with the omega inside of you bursting with joy at the fact that you’ve pleased your alpha. You always want to please him. You want to make him even more proud.

“I also bought some party games,” You add shyly, hoping he’ll approve. “There’s a pin-the-hat-on-the-witch and there’s also bobbing for apples, and–”

Your voice cuts off when you hear what sounds like a suppressed laugh. Glancing up at Steve, you see the corner of his mouth quirk upward, and a sparkle in his eye. Immediately, you shut your mouth, heat rising in your cheeks and heart wilting. Was he laughing at you?

“On second thought, the games sound babyish. I’m sorry.” You mumble, mentally kicking yourself at even bringing it up. It didn’t help that the last time you’d been to a Halloween party was back when you were in elementary school.

“I’d like to see you bob for apples,” He teases, reaching down to squeeze your ass. But he says nothing more about it, continuing to make out with you until you’re both unceremoniously interrupted by Natasha’s bellowing voice carrying from downstairs.

“COULD SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, I CAN’T REACH HIGH ENOUGH TO STICK THE STREAMERS!”

“She’s a fucking pain in the ass,” Steve says darkly, “Nothing but trouble. If I gave more of a fuck, I’d speak to Thor about keeping her in check. But it’s a good thing he hasn’t marked her – she’s a cheap whore anyways. Nothing like you, baby. And I don’t want you getting influenced by her bullshit.”

“She was just helping me.” You say softly, wanting to add that Natasha’s the first and only person at this university who’s actually been nice to you and treated you like an equal.

“I don’t care, omega. She’s not setting a good example for you and you’re not allowed to hang out with her anymore, do I make myself clear?”

It’s horrifically unfair, but Steve’s scent is so overpowering, so persuading in making you listen to him. And so you nod, hoping that maybe later he’d come around. You don’t want to lose Natasha as a friend. As pathetic as it sounds, she’s kind of your only friend.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees. I’ve had a long day and it’d be good to unwind before the party tonight.”

“But Steve, I gotta decorate–”

The look on his face is enough to get you scrambling down to your knees in record time. And it’s a little later, when he’s got a death grip in your hair and your mouth suckling on his balls while his heavy dick rests on your face, that he asks you casually, “What’s your costume going to be?”

You come up for air, breathing hard and trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “Oh, it’s – uh – it’s a surprise.” Even you don’t know what your costume is yet because Natasha had taken it upon herself to provide one for you. She’d said all would be revealed tonight, and a costume was the least of your worries.

Steve – surprisingly – doesn’t question this, instead guiding your head back down on his cock, bobbing it up and down and throwing his head back, a low hiss escaping his lips.

“Whatever. Just remember to check with me beforehand. I need to approve of whatever you’re wearing before anyone else sees it, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

The party is in full swing, and it’s wilder than you anticipated. Thor walks in with about a dozen sixpacks in tow, with Natasha squealing and jumping on him as soon as he enters. Bucky and Sam have invited what looks to be more than half of the female population at the university, all of them scantily-clad and surrounding the two alphas, hanging off their arms in costumes ranging from sexy kittens to sexy cowgirls to sexy nurses.

Your own costume is prettier than you anticipated; a light pink satin slip dress – almost like lingerie – that flows yet clings to your body in a flattering way. Glittery pink fairy wings are attached to your back, small enough to not get in the way of anything but big enough that one could appreciate the swirling design. See-through nude stockings adorn your legs, complete with lacy trimmed tops accented with ribbons. Dainty glass heels cover your feet, and your makeup’s minimal and glowy, with a lot of body glitter added everywhere. You don’t know how Natasha’s managed to create such a pretty costume for you – but she’s a fashion major after all.

“Steve doesn’t deserve you in this outfit.” Natasha had commented earlier when you’d tried it on, “But that doesn’t mean he won’t go crazy over it.”

And Steve had gone crazy over it, inspecting each and every angle while you stood in the middle of the room like a piece of meat at the butcher’s shop. He couldn’t help but squeeze your ass, fondle your breasts, tug your dress up to “check what panties you were wearing” as well as a lot of other things. Finally, he’d resorted to dragging you to the bed, pushing you down on your hands and knees, flipping your dress up and fucking you right then and there.

“M-My costume– it’s gonna get ruined!” You’d cried, but to no avail.

“Fuck, my little baby omega, think you can dress up like some sexy fucking fairy and your daddy won’t fuck you in your little costume, huh?” He’d said through gritted teeth, grabbing your flimsy little wings and pushing them to the side so he could press down on your back. “The only way you can be seen in this outfit is if you looked freshly fucked – so everyone knows exactly who your daddy is, you got that?”

Now your wings were permanently crooked and you had a slight limp in your step, but at least Steve had allowed you to wear the fairy outfit to the party downstairs. Granted, he had his arm around you the whole time, showing you off obnoxiously like you were some kind of shiny object.

“Isn’t she cute, Barber? You should’ve seen her earlier, trying to put up the decorations but she was too little to reach.”

“She cooks, she cleans, and she looks like a million bucks. Can’t say the same about your omega, huh, Curtis?”

“Don’t fucking look at my girlfriend, Jensen. Who even invited you, anyways? Get the fuck out of my sight. Go bob for apples or some shit.”

You sigh, watching poor Jake Jensen’s face fall as he retreats to the corner of the room where the crate of apples is situated all on its lonesome. No one else is really indulging in your party games; in fact, you’d seen someone rip the pin-the-hat-on-the-witch clean in half – which wasn’t nice at all.

On top of that, your Halloween cupcakes were currently mush on the ground, someone had stepped and trodden on them, which made you sad. Even your punch – which you had so painstakingly mixed until it was perfect – tasted kind of funny. You were on your second cup, hoping that you were just imagining the bitter taste of the drink.

“Steve, this tastes funny,” You mumble softly, tugging at your boyfriend’s sleeve. For his Halloween costume, he was just wearing his football jersey and claiming to be a “football player.” Less than minimum effort, but a bunch of girls had gushed and squealed, telling him how good he looked. Steve had ignored them, but that didn’t stop the omega inside of you going green with a strong sense of jealous territorialism.

Even Steve Junior’s costume was more creative than Steve’s. You’d had a black and white striped shirt that had shrank in the wash, and to your glee, it fit your stuffed teddy perfectly.

“He’s a convict!” You’d told Steve proudly, earlier after he’d finished fucking you and you were sitting there trying to catch your breath and straighten your fairy wings, and the alpha had snorted, grabbing the teddy by the neck.

“Oh yeah? What’d he get arrested for? Watching us fuck?”

“No!” You’d answered, completely appalled.

Steve had laughed, easily keeping the stuffie out of your reach when you’d lunged to grab it, “You’re a little pervert, aren’t you, Steve Junior?” And Steve Junior’s coal black eyes had only stared blankly at Steve before you’d snatched him back.

At least now, the stuffie was safe upstairs in the bedroom. The same couldn’t be said about you, however, downstairs in the midst of a party that only seemed to be getting wilder. You’re on Steve’s lap, his hand laid down on your bare thigh possessively as he downs a beer and laughs at whatever he and his friends are talking about. How they can talk when the music is so pulsating and loud is beyond you.

“Shhh, baby, just drink your punch.” He says, pressing a kiss on your lips before continuing his conversation.

You pout, “But it doesn’t taste right–”

Your quiet complaint is drowned out by the noise of the party and you sigh, feeling slightly dizzy as you try to reposition yourself on Steve’s lap. But that only makes your alpha growl lowly, gripping you tighter and thrusting his hips up against your ass – right in front of everyone, no less! Normally, you would’ve begged him not to do that but right now you feel weirdly slow and sluggish… and kind of horny. Wait, what?

“Stop fidgeting or else I’m gonna have to fuck you right here in front of everyone.” Steve whispers in your ear through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to!” You cry not-so-softly, trying to grab on to his leg to steady yourself before realisation hits you like a bucket of icy cold water dumped unceremoniously onto your head. Did you just call him “daddy” right here? Out in the open? In front of everyone?

There’s a moment of silence, and then…

“Oh, so you’re daddy huh?” Andy barks out a laugh, nudging Steve.

Sam rolls his eyes, “I’ve heard worse. I keep telling him the walls are thin.”

“Look at her now, trying to hide under her daddy’s jersey!” Ransom hoots with laughter, making you freeze in the middle of trying to tug the sleeve of Steve’s jersey over your face.

“Stop looking at my girlfriend, Drysdale.” Steve shoots back, but he looks smugger than ever, clearly unperturbed by your little slip-up as he smooths your hair back condescendingly. You feel absolutely mortified – what the hell is wrong with you? Why do you feel so disoriented and less in control of yourself??

You take another large gulp of your punch before standing up.

“Bathroom.” You tell Steve before stumbling off, thanking your lucky stars when he doesn’t pull you back.

All around you, there’s bodies dancing to the pulsating music, and you try to dodge them but it proves to be difficult in your disoriented state. Suddenly, the bathroom seems so far away, when you remember it being only about a few steps outside of the living room. There are too many people, too much noise, too much chaos. You can’t even hear your heartbeat thanks to the thumping music, and you feel the sudden need to go back to Steve and his protective warmth.

Turning back, you see Natasha and Thor have joined Steve’s group. Thor’s wearing some kind of Norse God costume (as he’d excitedly told you when he’d first walked in) and Natasha looks amazing in her cheerleading outfit, the colours of her costume matching Steve’s football jersey.

“They’ve fucked, you know.”

You jump at the voice in your ear and the hand that presses down against the small of your back. A flash of light blue eyes and the flurry of a black cape. It’s Bucky, dressed up as Count Dracula, complete with fake blood dripping down the side of his mouth. For a split-second, you’re reminded of the night Steve had marked you; his bite, the blood, the pain…

You blink stupidly, “What?”

“Steve and Natasha. He’s fucked her.” Bucky smirks, his hand still on your back, stroking up and down but you’ve yet to register it, “What, Steve didn’t tell you? I thought he or Nat would have… seeing as she’s now your friend and all…”

Now it feels like your head is spinning, and you sway slightly in your heels, unwittingly gripping Bucky’s arm to steady yourself. You glance back at Steve, who’s too busy laughing with his friends while Natasha looks at him in disgust, shaking her head and grabbing Thor’s hand.

You know it shouldn’t affect you, that it must have been from before you and Steve had got together… But why hadn’t Steve told you? Why hadn’t Natasha told you? Face crumpling, you back away even further, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Hey, you don’t look too good. Why don’t you come into my room and lie down for a second. Steve won’t mind.” Bucky tries to grab your wrist but you slip out of his grip, turning on your heel and stumbling towards the bathroom, trying not to get swallowed up by the sea of writhing bodies.

You don’t know how long you sit in the bathroom, on the toilet seat with your head in your hands. But Steve finds you there after a while, coming in and locking the door behind him.

“Did you die in here? It’s been twenty minutes.”

You sigh, but say nothing else. Steve doesn’t seem to like that, however, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up to your feet and tapping your cheek lightly, “I expect you to answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“I’m not having fun.” You say softly, wanting Steve Junior except he’s upstairs and going upstairs right now seems like an impossible feat of physical and mental strength.

“Oh yeah?” Steve eyes you up and down, licking his lips when his gaze zeroes in on one of your dress straps slipping down your shoulder. “You wanna fuck?”

“All the decorations are torn and ruined, my fairy wings are crooked, nobody’s playing bob for apples or pin-the-tale-on-the-bitch – I mean witch – and no one ate the cupcakes and…and…and,” you hiccup, choking back a sob, “and my punch tasted weird! I hate this party an’ I hate Halloween!”

Steve cups your face between his hands, tipping it upwards and surveying you carefully before a smirk spreads across his features. “You’re drunk.”

“Wha–”

“Mmhm, I think someone might have spiked the punch. Your pupils are completely dilated.”

Cold terror courses through you, and you grip his hands which are holding your face, “D-Don’t wanna be drunk, Steve! Don’t like being drunk!”

He snorts, “Relax. A little buzz won’t hurt you. And anyways,” He shoots you a devilish smirk, backing you up until your back hits the marble sink, and he picks you up and places you on top of it, stepping between your spread legs. “Baby omegas like you tend to get horny when they’re drunk. Good thing your daddy’s here to help you out with that…”

“No!” You cry, and it’s something you never would’ve done if you were sober, “don’t want to, Steve! You slept with Natasha!”

Steve, who’s in the middle of pushing your straps down your arms and kissing up your neck, stops short, regarding you carefully, “Who told you that?”

For the life of you, you can’t seem to remember. Who had told you? Everything seems foggy, but Steve hasn’t denied it, so you soldier on: “Don’t remember who told me, but...but…but, you–”

“Yeah, I did.” Steve cuts you off, before flipping your dress up and bunching it around your waist, his hand going straight between your legs as his lips return to your neck, lapping against your jagged mark. You gasp – either at what he’s said or the feel of his fingers ripping your panties in half, you’re not sure.

“Mm, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” Steve murmurs against your skin, almost as if he hasn’t just confessed to doing exactly what you accused him of. His thumb and forefinger pinch your clit and you jump, “My little baby fairy, all drunk and innocent, waiting for daddy to take care of you, huh?”

“Steve,” you whine, not wanting to fall victim to his expert touch, how he knows your body so well. Pushing your dress down and exposing your breasts, his mouth immediately latches on to your nipple, and you resist the urge to moan, “Steve, please! You… you and Nat… you–”

Steve groans in exasperation, giving your nipple a hearty suck before lifting his head back up, looking half bored and half annoyed. “It’s not that serious, omega. It happened years ago, just forget it.”

You pout and he sighs.

“It was freshman year, okay? I barely remember fucking her. Bucky fucked her too. And Sam. In fact, she’s gone through the entire football team. I told you she’s a cheap whore – nothing like you – and this is why.”

Your mouth drops open, even in your drunken state, you don’t like how he’s talking about her.

“You’re my perfect little baby, all pure and innocent,” Steve coos, pinching your cheek before kissing you, pressing his leg between your thighs and grinding it forward, making you gasp and grab hold of his strong arms. “This is why you’re different from them, omega. In your cute little fairy dress while the rest of those sluts out there are dressed like trashy whores.”

You hate how he’s talking, hate how horrifically misogynistic him and his friends all are. Because your dress is practically lingerie – you’re just as scantily clad as the other girls at the party. But his scent is distracting you, as is the alcohol pumping in your system, making you needy, making your carnal want for him amplify times ten.

“Gonna fuck you in your little fairy dress again, baby.” Steve informs you, turning you around abruptly and giving your bare ass a harsh slap. Your poor panties lie ripped up somewhere on the floor, but that’s the least of your concerns as Steve pushes you down till you’re lying flat on the sink top, your ass in the air and Steve’s dick in his hand.

“Can’t get enough of you in this little get-up. And I just know all the guys are so fucking jealous. They all wanna fuck you, but they can’t. Only I get to see you like this. My baby omega, bent over and getting fucked like it’s your job.” He gives your ass another harsh slap before entering you, and you gasp, gripping onto the counter, all the drunken worries slowly dissipating as your head goes empty when you feel his fat dick against your tight walls.

“Look at you, head’s already going empty, huh?”

“Mm, daddy,” you mewl.

“That’s right, forget about everything else. You did so good, omega, planning your first Halloween party. You made me so proud, baby, so you can stop thinking now. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

THE END! I know that was kind of an abrupt ending but trust me, i had to end it somewhere otherwise i would’ve kept going! i was just in the mood to write something on theme for october for this pairing, so there we go! PLEASE, please, please do let me know what you think! Feedback is so so SO appreciated!! Also, POYT 4 is coming very soon, i’m almost done with it! i just love writing poyt drabbles sometimes too! Please let me know what you think, and i hope you enjoyed! thank you!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #poyt drabble

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - Doodle

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: MC asks Bucky to be her focus on her project.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Fighting.

Word Court: 2770

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 ❤️

“You think I can just say fuck it and drop out?” The words tumbled out of your mouth quickly as you walked with Nat toward the arena. Practice was in the afternoon today because there was a game tonight. According to Nat our rival team would be here later to do some warm up before the game tonight. 

“Seriously?” She raised a manicured brow at you. 

“Maybe Pietro was right. I should be a drama major,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. You knew you were being over dramatic about the ordeal, but Barnes was an egotistical jerk and he was going to make this project hell. Was that a pessimistic take on it? Maybe. Were you wrong? Probably not. 

You pulled your school hoodie tighter, winter's grasp was holding on tight this year. The wind nipped at your nose and cheeks as you both made your way into the arena. Once inside the main doors heat blasted at you, you rubbed your arms with your hands and looked at Nat who was doing the same. 

“You are dramatic. But it’s gonna be fine,” her confidence almost made you believe her. Originally you were just going to wait and ask him outside the arena, in hopes maybe his cocky, surefire attitude would be on the back burner. But Nat said practice was amping up now as the season drew closer to playoffs and the team would be traveling a lot more. Nat led us to our seats next to the bench, another woman was sitting there already. 

“Peggy!” Nat said cheerfully, as she sat down next to her. 

“Natasha!” she said cheerfully back. “Who’s this?” She smiled at you. You waved and introduced yourself.

“Oh you’re the one doing the art project? Steve mentioned it,” she asked. 

You nodded, “news travels fast?” you laugh a little weirded out how she already knew. 

“Hockey players gossip worse than fishermen wives in the locker room...”

“And out of it,” Nat added with a laugh, Peggy chuckled as well.

 “And Barnes can’t shut up about the fact you drew him,” Peggy said with an eyeroll. Right, you thought. Peggy probably spent a decent time around him, since Steve and him were best friends, from your understanding it was rare to see one without the other. 

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled, looking down at your sketchpad. The night before you stayed up and watched videos of Barnes’ best plays and a couple of his interviews. There were some very detailed pictures of his face there. You quickly turned to a black page so Nat wouldn’t see it and poke fun. When you found a muse, it was hard for you to focus on anything but it. You could feel the hole you were digging getting bigger and bigger. 

“Fuck,” you glared at Barnes as he slammed into the glass in front of you, startling you. He had his helmet lifted and he was giving you a bright and flirty smile. You raised an eyebrow at him and shook your head, uninterested in his antics. He slipped his helmet down and pushed back, skating backwards, he moved so fluidly, you couldn’t help but pay attention. 

“Oi! Barnes. Pay attention,” someone snapped, you looked towards the voice and stared for a moment. 

“Coach Fury,” Nat said to you, “the only person that can get Barnes to pay attention besides Steve,” she finished. You nodded before looking back at the players. Your eyes were drawn to a smaller player, he wore a 12 on his back, Stark. He had been in one of your business classes you took in your second semester. He was an interesting guy, cocky and arrogant, he also came from money. His father was the owner of Stark Industries. He was speeding up and down the ice with ease. 

“12, he's fast,” you murmured to Nat, who nodded.

“He broke a record last year, his size makes it easier for him to zoom around,” Nat answered as she looked down at my paper, “Barnes really has your eye doesn’t he, this is like the Hela thing all over again,” she chuckled.  

“Yeah,” you blushed deeply and looked back down at your paper. You really wished one of the other teammates caught your attention, if Clint did this would be much simpler. But of of course the school hot shot had to be one to catch your eye.

“Hey,” Nat lifted your chin and made you look at her. “It’s fine, muses come and go. That’s how art is,” she smiled, that was one thing you loved about Nat, she never questioned or made fun of your muses or how ridiculous an idea you had was when it came to your art. She would poke fun, and make silly jokes, but nothing harmful. Just good natured fun. Her support was unwavering and true. 

Nat was a dancer, she was studying dance and dance theory. That’s how you two met, you accidently stumbled into one of the dance studios after hours instead of the art room. She was there practicing, and made small talk with you. You ended up just sitting on the dance room floor and working on your project talking with her as she practiced. 

“You know what’s funny, I didn’t think about dance for this project,” you chuckled after you relaxed a little. Nat’s face broke into a wide smile. 

“It would be the same as Pietro and the track team, but at least we look cute in our dance attire,” she mused lightly. You laughed loudly at her comment. 

“You really hate those track uniforms,” you shook your head as you chuckled some more. Clint zipped passed a moment later and Nat‘s eye followed him like a magnet. “Goodness, you’re so in love, it’s sickening,” you mused, she pushed your shoulder playfully. 

“How long have you two known one another?” Peggy asked. 

“Since first semester,” you answered her with a smile. 

“You guys are such good friends, I would have expected childhood bestfriends,” Peggy said, as she smiled at Steve who skated by. 

“We just clicked,” you shrugged, returning to your sketchpad. 

Practice drew to a close a little while later and you followed behind Nat and Peggy as they made their way back toward the locker room. There were a few girls, including Pepper Potts, Starks on again/off again girlfriend. Every other week Nat would be talking about it. The girl Bucky had on his arm last time was missing from the group of girls waiting for the players to leave the locker room. First out was Clint, and he made a beeline for Nat, instantly pulling her into a hug and pressing his nose into her neck, she squealed a little as his cold nose made contact with her skin.

Peggy excused herself to go wait by the door for Steve who emerged with Barnes a moment later. She whispered something in Steve’s ear and pointed over at you with a smile. Steve nodded and waved with a small smile of his own. Barnes followed his gaze and instantly he perked up when he noticed you. He swaggered toward you, past the gaggle of girls waiting to try and get his attention, you noticed a couple of them glare in your direction. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, sketch book tucked against your side. You looked up at him as he came up to you making a complete stop a foot in front of you. He really didn’t care about personal space, you took one step back so you didn't have to crane your neck as much to look him in the face.

“And what do I owe the pleasure today Doodle,” you cocked an eyebrow at the nickname, and squinted slightly. The nickname didn’t make you scrunch your nose or want to gag so it wasn’t the worst. You sighed heavily and danced on the balls of your feet for a moment. He just stared, watching you intently, a dumb cocky smirk plastered on his face. 

“Would you let me draw you for my art project?” You asked, you wished the weight bearing down on your shoulders lifted but it didn’t. You dreaded the thought of spending more time with this menace of a man. His lip twitched further upward and showed some of his perfect white teeth. 

“Ah Doodle, I thought you'd never ask,” he ruffled your hair with one of his big hands. You groaned and moved your head from him and tried to fix your hair. 

“Don’t touch me, please,” you said sternly. “I just need permission to draw you and use your likeness.” 

“Ah don’t be like that,” he moved forward and you stepped backwards and to the right, dodging him. He huffed in annoyance and you stared at him with your arms crossed again and slight scowl. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked, finally standing upright, his own arms crossed across his broad chest. 

“Seats are sold out besides the reserved seats for team partners,” you stated, “so no not tonight.”  

“There's always a seat reserved for my girl, you can have that one,” he stated matter of factly. 

“I’m not your girl,” you said back firmly. “This whole thing is for my art project,” you moved your hand jestering to both of you, “it ends once my project is done.” 

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face after you said that, but you could pick up the small look of challenge in his eyes. It seemed he was making this game, like he was contemplating how long it would be before you would cave and give him what he wanted. Another notch in his bed post. From what you could tell based on his body language alone he was not used to being rejected. Women usually flaunted over him and fell in his lap, all he had to do was choose who he wanted at that moment. Your determination to not be one of those girls was considered a challenge to him, met head on with stubborn determination to break you down and get what he wanted in the end. That made your stomach twist at the thought, he only wanted to do this to sleep with you, have some fun and then dump you off on Loki’s lap heart broken. 

You shook your head, lost in your own thoughts. Barnes was still looking at you, a contemplative look on his face. He had his chin in his hand as he rubbed it, “this will be fun, see you tonight Doodle.” You glared at him as he walked away, twirling his keys around his finger. 

“Jerk,” you said softly to yourself before you made your way over to Nat and Clint. 

“Well that went better than I expected,” Nat said quietly as the three of you left the rink until you had to be back later. 

A sleek black car was parked at the curb, you waved goodbye to Nat and Clint as you ran over to the car and slid into the passenger seat, you rolled the window down and shouted “goodbye! See you later,” Nat waved and they continued walking. 

“Hey Loki!” You said cheerfully. 

“Hello darling, I take it asking Barnes went well?” He asked as he put the car in drive and pulled out from the curb. 

“It went alright. The cocky bastard,” you clipped your belt in place and turned your head to look at Loki fully. “He’s already flirting with me,” you shook your head in annoyance. 

“At least he has good taste darling,” Loki said sweetly as we sped down the freeway into town to have an early dinner.

“Have fun darling,” Loki shouted out the open window of the car as he dropped you off at the arena. You turned back and gave him an unamused smile and flipped him off. 

“Yeah, fuck you,” you said with a slight laugh and turned away, waving, “love you dork,” you said over your shoulder. Nat was waiting just inside the arena for you and led you to your seats. 

“So one of the perks of dating hockey players? Free seats?” You mused sitting down next to her, the arena was still pretty empty as the game didn’t start for 45 minutes. 

“One of them,” she chuckled. Warm ups started and Clint stopped for a moment in front of us and lifted his helmet.

“Hey girls,” he said with a smile before darting off to warm up. 

“Looks like Barnes just noticed us,” Nat said as he skated over. 

“He had me clocked from the parking lot,” you grumbled. Nat laughed loudly and placed her hand on your shoulder wiping a tear from her eye. 

“You’re not wrong,” she said between giggles. Barnes skated forward and came to stop sending glittering flecks of shaved ice toward the glass. 

“Nat, Doodle, how's my new favourite girl?” He asked with a cocky smile. You rolled your eyes, and placed your cheek on your hand as you looked at him with a deadpan expression, Nat smirked next to you. You watched as Barnes ran his tongue over his teeth, he then winked and skated off to join warm ups. 

“Do the woman he dates actually like that attitude?” You mused absently as you doodled on the open page of your sketchbook. Nat shrugged.

“Honestly, they’re probably more interested in his looks, and don’t care about anything else. That or the potential paycheck he’ll be earning if they can tie him down long enough,” She said softly. Your gut twisted uncomfortably at that, and you grimaced. Sure the guy was an arrogant prick, but he deserved better than that. Nat noticed your facial expression and nodded. “It’s not really fair, there's moments when he’s more than the arrogant show off, he’s pretty sweet. I think he’s just gotten used to hiding it; he doesn't bother being anything else.” 

“Be what they expect of you and no one will question it,” you hummed. You mindless doodles turned into a simple sketch of his face. You admired the sharpness of his jaw, his mouth set in a soft line that was slightly upturned.  

The game started, and you were too focused on watching Barnes skate to really watch the game. Not that you really understood the sport enough to really understand what was happening in front of you. First intermission passed and they were half through the second period when a black punk landed on your sketch pad. It startled you and your head shot up and you meant Barnes eyes. Nat was giggling next to you as you picked the offending puck up and handed it to the kid sitting behind you, who happened to be wearing a Barnes jersey. The kids day was made and Barnes’ narrowed his eyes at you. You smirked back in return and went back to drawing. 

The crowd erupted in loud chants as Barnes scored with less than a second left in the third period, winning the game for your college. You watched as Barnes skated around celebrating his goal only for the captain of the other team to get up in his face. You tensed up as you watched the guy push Barnes shoulders and then grab his protective gear getting in his face. 

So the rest of the team came to investigate and there was an all out brawl on the ice right in front of you. You stood up and looked down. Barnes was on top of the captain, his fist raised and he was breathing heavily. 

“Bucky,” his name left your lips before you could stop it and he had to have heard you because his face tilted in your direction for a fraction of a second and the captain took that as an opportunity to flip Barnes over and bring a hard fist down on the bridge of his nose. You shrieked as blood gushed out of Barnes’ nose. Nat was standing next to you as you both watched in horror. 

You turned your head and saw your college coach hopping the bench and helping refs break it up. Steve hauled the other team's captain off his best friend and shoved him into the arms of other teammates who pulled him further away. Steve helped Barnes up and took his face in his hands, Barnes just gave him a dopey smile. His gaze turned to you for a moment and he smiled a bigger smile.  You looked at him with wide eyes and your mouth agape, horrified. 

The captain of the other team didn’t look like he fared much better. He was bloody and his eye was swelling shut with each passing second. Coach Fury looked pissed, and was stalking over to the other teams coach for a few words, a ref following close behind.

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college au #college fic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #reader insert

[buckyismybicycle]

Title: “I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master” [AO3 Link]   Originally written as part of: Bucky Barnes As… a Rockstar  SERIES MASTERLIST  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Mature Summary/Notes: This is, pretty much, exactly what it looks like. Rockstar Bucky, Flirting, etc. EDIT: Now! I’m happy to announce that this is now IT’S OWN SERIES that I have the honour of writing with @rookthorne! More rockstar!Bucky for everyone! 

“𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐝” Series Masterlist | Part 2 »

The crowd is already worked up from the band on stage and Bucky is grinning maniacally behind the stage. Nat, his bassist, looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You good, Buck?”

“Fucking fantastic, Natalia. I’m fucking fantastic. You see ‘em? It’s packed out there.”

“Your shows have been sold out all week,” Sharon reminds him while fixing Scott’s guitar strap.

“Iunno, Shar, it’s just different. Somethin’ about this place.” His blood is pumping from the heavy bass, the Cap Quartet rocking out on stage. He’s played shows with them before - Sam, Steve, Joaquin and Riley are all cool dudes. They’d become friends pretty easily, so it was a no-brainer that they were the first band Bucky asked to co-headline his tour.

—

“Thank you, you beautiful bastards!” Riley’s voice booms, followed by a loud screeching of the crowd. “Hang onto your panties if you still got ‘em, because the final act is gonna knock you dead. Yeah, you know who I’m talking about, the band you’ve all been waiting for — let me hear you fuckers!”

Bucky closes his eyes and lets the thrum of the audience's cheer work its way all the way into his bones. Fuck, he almost has a boner.

“Where’s Clint?” He asks, eager to get on stage. Natasha jerks a finger behind her where Clint is downing a bag of Cheerios between sips of Mountain Dew. Bucky grins, because it means Clint will be amped. Bucky can’t help but strum his own guitar a few times, the calluses on his fingers a permanent fixture by now.

Natasha hauls both Scott and Clint over practically by the ear, her studded combat boots thumping with each step.

“Ready?” Bucky asks with a wicked smile.

“Ready,” the three return in their usual manner, with grins and lazy salutes. Then it’s blinding lights and deafening roars.

Bucky wastes no time in getting the crowd amped.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?! Let’s gooooo bay-beeeeeeeee!” While Bucky is loud, the crowd is louder and they are on their feet from the first strum of his guitar, and Bucky feels high as a kite.

It’s not your first show at the Kathedral, but it’s certainly the loudest. You’d never heard of this particular band, but Misty’s best friends make up the Cap Quartet, so you had to support them, of course. And they were good, you actually liked when they popped up on your shuffle.

Originally, you thought you’d maybe dip after they were done - sitting for two opening acts and the Cap Quartet’s set already had your feet aching. But the moment the next band stepped out, and Misty starts jumping up and down beside you, you have no choice but to stay. The energy was infectious and you kind of missed just letting go. You may not be a rebellious teenager anymore, but the atmosphere of being at a rock concert makes you feel young and reckless again. Even the smell of spilled beer and sweat brings back a bit of nostalgia, back to when you were sixteen and had ‘X’s drawn on your hands just to get in the venue.

“C’mon, are we asleep out here?!” You hear the singer shout, and you can’t help but think how beautiful the whole band is.

There’s a redhead rocking heeled boots that look like they could kill a man, her bass guitar plastered with stickers. The drummer is wearing a sleeveless muscle tank that does wonders for his arms and the other guitarist has a dazzling smile when he looks out into the crowd.

But the lead singer - he’s rocking black leather pants that bunch above his combat boots like he’d haphazardly stuck his feet in, but they’re tight across his thighs. You can see every flex in his muscles as he jumps around on stage. His hair whips around his face as he throws his whole body into his performance. It’s a small miracle he even manages to hit any notes on his guitar. His black t-shirt stretches across his shoulders and chest, hugging his biceps, which makes your mouth water, but what really hits you is his voice.

The opening notes of his song are the epitome of zero to one hundred. Your throat almost hurts just from watching him, but he’s nothing but smiles, clearly lost in what he loves.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

He gets a moment of reprieve when the next part comes up, before he ramps up again, the veins in his neck prominent, making you wanna lick them. A glint of metal flashes in his mouth when he sings — a tongue piercing, probably.

One at a time I know this bridge we built won't last But it'll hold for at least a while Even when the life leaves your bones Your soul will follow me wherever I go It's in the way I feel your fire even when I sleep at night I stay inside your glow

He hits the chorus again, just as hard as he did at the beginning and you swear the floor shakes as everyone jumps.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

Then he faces the audience and hops on the speaker in front, leaning forward with his microphone, his other hand waving for the crowd to sing it back to him. You’re captivated by his crystal-like eyes as the lights bounce off them.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You even find yourself shouting along, the song is so catchy that you’re into it from the moment it started. As you shout the last line, he looks right at you and it’s like an electrifying bolt through your body as he holds the look for the next line before he bounds off to the sides of the stage that he’s been neglecting.

You’re in awe as his voice changes to something smooth and soft, the instruments that were near deafening slowing down with him. He sways in the middle of the stage, face turned up as though in prayer, the bassist even hitting a few notes on the keyboard to her side as she backs him up, vocally.

I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I dream I'll see you in the I lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the) Lost a vital part of me (I dream I'll see you in the)

And in perfect sync, the band picks up, hard again, all of them (except the drummer) jumping as well and the crowd goes wild. You narrowly miss getting kicked in the head by a crowdsurfer, who gets a fistbump from the singer over the side of the stage.

I know I'm out of sight But am I out of mind? And when I close my eyes I dream I'll see you in the afterlife Lost a vital part of me Lost a vital part of me Now there's nothing left I dream I'll see you in the afterlife

You’re in a trance when he ends the song, holding the note so long you’re sure his lungs should burst. Maybe it’s the heat, or the adrenaline, or just your heart pumping out of your chest as you bounce for the rest of the set, but you could swear that the lead singer kept catching your eye.

You feel like you’re flying, on cloud nine, so maybe it’s all in your head, but goddamn if you didn’t twitch with want every time you met his eyes. How this crowd still had energy was beyond you, you knew that you were dead on your feet, hair plastered to your neck with sweat but grinning wildly.

“Alright you hellions, this is the last one.” When the crowd starts chanting ‘encore, encore’ he just laughs into the mic, his voice a little raspy from his performance.

“If we could, we’d play all fuckin’ night, you know that! But some of us gotta get to Indiana by tomorrow night. So we gotta make this last one count. Let’s get sexy, folks.”

His husky voice makes it absolutely devastating as he starts off by smirking at you.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster 'Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster

It’s as though each line sent a new wave of desire through you. You picture calling him a good boy, wonder if he’d flush just as beautifully as he did now under the heat of the lights.

I love you since this morning Not just for aesthetic I wanna touch your body So fucking electric

The crowd loses its collective mind as he starts to ruck up his shirt, as each line gets progressively more seductive, and his shirt rides further and further up. You can’t help but ogle his washboard abs glistening with sweat since he was right there.

I know you scared of me You said that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears And that's fucking pathetic I wanna make you hungry Then I wanna feed ya I wanna paint your face Like you're my Mona Lisa

Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest image you’d had all night. His shirt comes off over his head and he twirls it, throwing behind him.

I wanna be a champion I wanna be a loser I'll even be a clown Cause I just wanna amuse ya I wanna be your sex toy I wanna be your teacher I wanna be your sin I wanna be a preacher

You lick your lips just as he turns to you and if possible, his smile grows even bigger, feral, as he sings right at you. The lyrics made your head spin with want.

I wanna make you love me Then I wanna leave ya 'Cause baby I'm your David And you're my Goliath

He winks before strutting off, his muscles tight and taunting. The sway of his hips, intentional or not, entices you, and you’d give anything to bite down on them. The stupid pants are just taunting you at this point.

Ah-ha… Mhm, ah-ha\ Because I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption And I'm a lawyer Who's searching for redemption And I'm a killer Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He sinks to his knees on the stage as steam hisses in the back in billow pillars. The lights change, flashing reds and oranges, yellows and pinks. They dance magically across his skin.

And I'm a bad guy Who's searching for redemption And I'm a blonde girl Who's searching for redemption I'm a freak that Is searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

You’re going to die - straight to heaven or hell, it doesn’t matter at this point, because he’s honest-to-god crawling across the stage on his arms and knees, his mic still in one hand.

I wanna make your heart beat Run like rollercoasters I wanna be a good boy I wanna be a gangster Cause you can be the beauty And I could be the monster I wanna make you quiet I wanna make you nervous I wanna set you free But I'm too fucking jealous I wanna pull your strings Like you're my telecaster And if you want to use me I could be your puppet 'Cause I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption I'm a motherfucking monster Who's searching for redemption

He ends at the edge of the stage, his torturous crawl making your throat go dry from more than just your screaming. Then, he flips on his back, lets his head hang over the side of the stage.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master

The last line is but a whisper, and then he finally lets the mic drop, his arms stretched like he’s going for a backwards dive and his chest is heaving. He’s a sweaty mess, body on display and licks his lips while staring a hole into your soul.

—

The venue slowly begins to empty, stragglers buying merch or finishing their drinks. You feel dizzy when Misty drags you outside, saying that her friends want to hang out for a bit before they leave for the next town. You stumble along because, yeah, alright, her friends are cool.

They’re by their tour bus, all of them outside with drinks in their hands and they wave you both over.

“Excellent show, boys,” you greet as everyone takes turns hugging both you and Misty.

“Yeah, you guys killed it!” Misty agrees enthusiastically.

“What’d you think of the other bands?” Sam asks. “Parasite Fears has never been on the road like this.”

“That was the first band, right? They were really good! And the set was fun,” you say honestly. Now that you’re outside and it’s getting late, the sweat on your body is cooling, causing you to shiver a bit. Riley hands you a cup and when you ask what it is, he just smiles. You drink it anyway, because why not. They spend a few minutes chatting before a warm arm wraps around your shoulders, and your breath catches at the sight of bright crystal-like eyes beside you. His other arm is thrown over Joaquin as he stands between you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiles blindingly at you.

“Hi,” you say back, still a little stunned at how at ease he seemed to be, even as he retracts his arm. He’s changed into basketball shorts of all things, which makes you even chillier just looking at him. This close, you can see the intricate lines of his tattoos - metal plates from shoulder to fingers on his left arm, swirls of black script along his other.

“You look cold, sweetheart,” he observes. “Couldn’t you guys have taken this party into the tour bus?”

“They’re fixing the bus,” Steve says. “Told us to stay outta the way.”

“You sure you’re gonna be alright to head out?” Bucky asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Should be,” Steve shrugs. “Tones said we’d be fine, or else he’d find another way. We’ll know in about two hours or so.”

“Ehhh, tell Tones to relax for once. If anything, you can divvy yourselves up and the rest of us could shuttle you the rest o’ the way.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve claps him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, can’t have you ruining the tour, punk.”

Something about their easy camaraderie makes you smile. But you’re still cold, and Bucky still notices.

“If I had a jacket, I’d offer it to you,” he looks back at you. “Next best thing, I can offer our unbroken tour bus?” He jerks his head behind and you see the redheaded bassist leaning against the side smoking a cigarette, chatting with the drummer who appears to be double-fisting drinks.

You look at Misty who is being introduced around to the other bands by Sam and Riley and there’s no way she’s going to be anytime soon.

“Um. You don’t have to,” you say, because he’s a stranger. He cocks his head to study you. It looks like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t push.

“Offer’s open, doll,” he shrugs. Some other members come up to him, Steve, and Joaquin and congratulate them on their set so you quietly slip away.

You don’t know anyone else here, and it’s kind of awkward to be by yourself so you start wandering around. When you round a bus, you nearly smack into the drummer from Bucky’s band and you yelp as you both jump back.

“Sorry!” you both say at the same time before the sandy-haired man smiles and waves before walking past you. You notice that he’d dropped something - though it was small and black making it hard to tell what it was.

“Hey!” you shout at him, but he doesn’t turn around, instead heading back to his bus. You pick up the item, a transmitter of some sort, and try to catch up to him. You can’t seem to find him and the bassist had also left her spot so you approach the bus. The door is completely open but you knock on the frame anyway.

“Hello?” There’s no sound inside so you think about leaving it where he can find it easily.

“Takin’ me up on my offer?” You startle at the sudden voice behind you.

“Actually, your dummer dropped this,” you explain, thankful to at least hand it back to someone. “I tried to get his attention but I don’t think he could hear me, and then I kinda lost him in the crowd.”

“Don’t be offended, he probably took his hearing aids out,” Bucky tells you easily. “Thanks for bringing this back though, Sharon woulda fuckin’ killed him.”

“Hearing aids?” You can’t help but blurt out. “Wow.”

Bucky beams proudly as he tells you about his friend, Clint, how gifted of a drummer he is and how even losing most of his hearing never stopped him.

“That’s amazing,” you say, a genuine smile for his story and how much he was beaming just talking about Clint. Just then a gust of wind blows, and your jean shorts and t-shirt aren’t cutting it.

“C’mon, before you freeze,” Bucky jerks his head toward the tour bus and fuck it. You hop aboard, Bucky following you. He places the transmitter on the kitchenette table, looking hilariously giant in the cramped space.

“You come here often?”

“Did you just use the oldest pick up line of all time?” You scrunch your nose at him, liking the sound of his laugh.

“Is it working?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I’m just asking out of genuine curiosity,” he bats his eyelashes. They’re so pretty, you think to yourself.

“I used to. Less often now, but when I hear someone good is playing, I show up.”

He arches an eyebrow at you.

“Cap Quartet, I mean. Obviously. They don’t scream as much as you do,” you add, and you find yourself relaxing with Bucky as he takes all your jokes and jabs in stride as he tickles you for the slight.

“You hurt my feelings, doll,” he says, all smiles and sharp teeth.

“How ever could I make it up to you?” You find yourself flirting with him.

“Maybe you could scream for me this time,” he suggests, leaning in closer with a tilt of his head, eyes searching yours for a sign.

“Yeah?” You ask a little breathlessly, forgetting how to breathe as you two inch into each other’s spaces now.

“Yeah,” his lips just grazing against your neck. “Didn’t you enjoy that last song I sang for you?”

“For me?” You ask incredulously, making Bucky grin at you.

“Ya heard me, doll. For you,” he repeats. “It seemed like you enjoyed it..”

Whatever thought you’d had about him flirting with you was more or less solidified now, and it was making your body rebel against you. You lick your lips subconsciously before you answer. “Maybe.”

“Especially that bit… about wanting to be your master.”

You involuntarily hold your breath, legs squeezing together. It’s impossible not to imagine Bucky over you, pinning you down as he commands you to do as he wants.

“Or… maybe it was that bit about wanting to be your slave?”

The breath you let out is shaky, matching your trembling hands that are balled into fists across your lap.

Bucky’s eyes darken, and you’re not really sure who made the first move, but you’re suddenly kissing furiously, hands tangled in each other’s hair and clothes.

“Christ, I’ve wanted this since I first fuckin’ saw you,” Bucky tells you, pulling you into his lap, where you can feel his dick hardening through his shorts. It’s embarrassing how fast you get on board, your pussy quivering at the thought of being touched for the first time in too long.

“Tell me what you need, pretty little thing,” he nibbles at your bottom lip. “God, I wanna take you apart, wanna do anythin’ you want.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “That. Want that, too. Want you to fuck me.”

His lips curl into a smile against yours as he lifts you easily to tumble into a bottom bunk. “Yes, master.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes as... #my works #bucky barnes fanfic #rockstar bucky #feat hold absence and maneskin lol #music taste

[neonovember]

All of you

mafia!au

summary; you didn’t mean to get them that angry, or get one of their men killed, but they’ll let you blame it on your insatiablity anyway.

warnings; smut, piv, asphyxiation, degradation, over stimulation, steve gets really rough, pet names, dumbification, mean steve, steve and bucky even being together in the same room, violence and mentions of death

a/n; I didn’t want to post part 1 without posting part 2. That’s it. Bucky and especially Steve are a little deranged in this, heed the warnings, please. Your media is your consumption, you have been warned!

It takes a while, takes you putting on one of Bucky’s favourite vinyls, twirling around in this useless big chair until your head was spinning before Ferguson showed up for his court-appointed presence.

You begin your silent seduction, like prey to a predator, you drop the bait and count on the man to be dumb enough to take it. And boy does he lead himself into it all on his own.

You compliment his stature, gush over his muscles, and beg him to flex them, all while you fiend innocence. As if this man ever would compare to your boys.

You hear the rev of an engine nearby, the sound of it so familiar to you that it fills you with warmth. They were home, or at least on the gravel road that lead to it.

You realised you had to amp it up if you wanted not only Bucky, but Steve, to be mad, really mad, not just the forgery they’d act with you, they had to believe this man truly thought he had a chance with you.

You slowly unbutton the back of your top, letting it hang loosely to display the red ink that trailed down your spine. You waited for the French doors to open, hearing the familiar footsteps run up the stairs and for a moment a feeling of guilt washed over you, they wanted to see you, and here you were playing mind games.

The flutter of the white curtains streaming in the moonlight reminds you however of the endless nights you’d stare through those same window panes, waiting, wishing your boys were home if not safe.

This was simply karmic justice.

“Would you mind buttoning up my shirt, it seemed to come undone somehow” You giggle, pushing your coils to the side.

“Would you mind buttoning up my shirt, it seemed to come undone somehow” You giggle, pushing your coils to the side.

He isn’t able to reach the second button before you hear the door bang open, bouncing back from the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing” Bucky growls, his chest heaving up and down, the crisp white shirt is rolled to his elbows, and suspicious red splotches scatter the collar of it.

Thomas fumbles, his fingers latching back from your shit as if you were poison, he gulps loudly, the wrath of Bucky's rage that he knew all too well, now directed at him. 

“Uh, she asked-” Thomas begins, poor little Thomas, too stupid to know when to keep his hands to himself and even more stupid to know when to keep his mouth shut

Bucky doesn't let him finish, the last of his composure crumbling and he reaches for Thomas, ribbing him for being you and dragging him out of the room. There is a scurry, one Bucky has conveniently muffled through the shut office doors, but you hear the anguished screams nonetheless before he appears again in front of you. 

His dark strands fall in front of his eyes, but they do little to hinder the fire burning within them, deep embers of navy blue that seem almost silver under the low light. You know when a job has been particularly bad by Bucky’s hair, and with the way it was falling apart from the haphazard bun at the back, told you it was worse than bad.

You can practically see his body vibrating, mixed with the lasting adrenaline of what you believed Sam was dealing with right now and the anger of seeing another man be near those same tattoos Steve has inked onto your skin.

He slowly walks towards you, the same boots splattered with blood now pressing into the carpet floor, black copper orbs stare down at you, unblinking as they took you in, and sucked you into their depth.

“I’m giving you the opportunity to explain yourself, doll, and explain yourself good because I don’t have time for fucking jokes right now” He growls, gripping your waist and pulling you into him.

You stare at him blankly, displaying a hoax of ignorance and confusion as you furrow your brows.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about Bucky, he was simply helping me button my shirt” You reply huskily, his grip of your waist tightens and his strands fall in front of his eyes. He shakes his head, nodding, understanding what this now was.

“So we’re doing this now huh?, After I just told you the day we’ve had?” bucky scoffs, eyes falling to your outfit, nodding appreciably at the lack of underwear.

“Okay, it’s your call baby doll, this is all you, you just wait, I’m sure Steve is finished with Ferguson right about now” Bucky smiles, licking his lips as he turns from you, leaning onto the desk. His eyes flicker to the glass of half-drunk bourbon and his eyes darken impossibly more.

The excitement, you were giddy with it. It poured into your stomach and fluttered around like butterflies, burning greater than the bourbon ever did. You could practically feel yourself tingling, at the tips of your fingers, the electrostatic heat and pulse of pleasure. All you needed was the final push.

And just like clockwork, Steve strolls into the room, his knuckles bloodied and his collar splattered with red. It takes one glance between Steve and Bucky to know what you were doing, their eyes communicating in the way words never could. They both nod towards you, before Steve slowly walks towards where you’re standing.

“What were you thinking, hm doll?” Steve asks silently, eyes calculating as they racked over your body.

“Answer me when I speak to you,” He says hushedly. The fear fills you, Steve isn’t scary when he’s enraged when he’s red with frustration. He’s scary when he’s silent. When he masks his face so that it remains like unmoulded clay. His eyes smiling, fucking smiling because he can smell the fear on you and he loves it, he craves the skin of yours shivering under the moonlight.

“I was just, talking to him, it’s not my fault! You both left me alone and the only man that was capable was him” You reply, friending innocence as you fluttered your eyes at him.

He smiles at that, pulling his white button sleeves to his elbows. Unfastening his tie so it lay lazily around his neck. He carefully paced his suit jacket on the coach. Before turning towards you again.

“Bucky, today wasn’t a good day was it?” He says staring directly at you.

“No, I don’t believe it was” Bucky grunts arms crossed as he grinned

“You see darling, some of our men got hurt, important men, men I needed to be alive. It caused us a real headache, a lot of blood on our hands and necks, a lot of inefficiencies that clogged up our production. Filth, and greed, just ruining our goddamn night.”

“And image our surprise, when the one thing we counted on, the one thing that would make it even a little better, made it fucking worse.” Steve grins, pulling your hair into a bun, his hands gliding down the slope of your face before pushing into your mouth.

You suck on them gleefully, looking towards him in pleasured relief. Whilst it seems impossible, his eyes darken even more than Bucky’s. Darken to a colour you’ve never seen before, a colour and depth reserved for his night dealings and empire.

You could practically feel it glide down your thighs. Steve’s hand twitches, and you know he can sense it too, your amounting pleasure building up to the tip of release with just his words.

He’s resisting, and you don’t want him to.

“I didn’t wait hours on the both of you, for you to just scold me” You begin to cross your arms against your chest, head back as you looked up into Steve’s.

“Sit down” He whispers, the words barely leaving his lips

You snort, swaying your hips like the tail of a temptress, reaching for the door handle to leave.

“If you won't satisfy me, I’ll find someone who will” You preen, eaging them on further.

It’s futile, you can feel the heat of Steve’s grip before his thick fingers even wrap around your waist.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Steve barks, annoyance lacing his tone. You can tell with the clench of his jaw that his anger is simmering just beneath the surface.

“You don’t want us angry baby doll, you remember last time?” Bucky grins, canines glinting in the moonlight, a wolf-life expression shines over his features.

Oh you remember last time, a mere rarity of sheer fucking that was nowhere near the sensual agonising heat you were used to. A rarity that came only when a particularly bad night had occurred, where they had almost lost you. Filled with betrayal and loss, that night had bled through both Steve and Bucky, until it was stained all over you, your thighs, your neck, your pussy.

“What if I want it like last time?” You whisper, looking at both of them in defiance. Your candour causes Steve to stiffen behind you, a momentary pause in his brain, a short circuit, a daunting realisation before a final knowing.

You hear a grunt pass through Steve’s lips, a silent “fuck” from Bucky’s.

He knows they both did, eyes shining towards each other, faces unreadable as they caught glimpses of their sweet girl for who she really was.

Steve hands you to Bucky as if your thick thighs and hips merely weighed nothing, Bucky moves towards the large armchair that’s positioned across the sofa. Steve sits across from you, legs spread apart as he rests his outstretched hands across the spine of the leather. Bucky sits you down between his legs, before repositioning you to straddle one of his thighs. You look up in bewilderment, and you know confusion covers your features when Steve grins, nodding.

“You want to get yourself off so bad with these wolves, why don’t you take some initiative. Show us how bad you want this, show us how bad you’ve been needing” Steve smirks leaning back.

“Go on, pretty girl, I’m all yours” Bucky whispers into the shell of your ear. Pressed kisses down the slope of your neck before biting your ear lip, causing you to yelp, indirectly causing a delicious friction against Bucky’s bludge that has both of you groaning.

Bucky rests his hands on your waist, not applying any pressure yet, as you begin to drag your hips against his pantsuit. You throw your head back against Bucky’s curls, gripping his thighs as you speed up your ministrations.

The folds of the fabric create friction that rubs against your pulsing clit, and the sticky need of your arousal leaks from the sides of your inner thighs, dampening Bucky’s pants and creating the perfect slick for you to go faster.

“Just like that doll, get yourself off on Bucky’s thigh, I know you can do it, fucking show me” Groans Steve, hes eyes never leaving your own.

The scent of you has Bucky groaning with his head back, and as you begin moving your hips into Bucky’s leg, he tenses the muscle causing you to squeeze your eyes shut, the building of pleasure reaching a cliff.

“Open your eyes doll, I want to see every single expression you make” Steve growls from the sofa, through your bounds of pleasure you had almost forgotten he was there, watching.

The scene that opens to you almost has you climaxing itself, there he was, looking through hooded eyes into the junction of your thighs as they grounded against Bucky's.

His hands had slipped into his pants, and you watch him pump himself to your pleasure, his thick fingers gripping the shaft, rolling the pearl of premium against his head and squeezing tight.

“P-Please” You groan, head tilted back, you were so close, the motion of your hips now almost mechanical, moving unconsciously as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Please what baby? You’re gonna have to be a bit clearer than that, I want to hear exactly what you want” Bucky smirks into your skin.

“Harder, faster, fuck just I need it, I need you Bucky!” You cry out, reaching for his thick finger to give you the roughness you need.

“That's all you’ve got to say” Bucky whispers as he circles his hands across your hips, gripping them, bringing them down, hard against his thigh.

You moan out pleas of gratitude, the pleasure taking you into a wordless heap of gurgles “yes yes yes”.

Bucky drags your pussy against him, unrelenting even as you squirm against his hold, thighs attempting to close but to no avail, Steve grips them open, making you take everything.

You hold onto Bucky's broad shoulders, anchoring you to this world, all you could do now was take it, drink down the waves of pleasure that seemed unrelenting, pleasure as deep as the pacific.

Steves moves closer, slipping his thick hands between your thighs, dragging his ring-encrusted digits across your folds, collecting your arousal before bringing it to his lips, he looks you dead in the eye as he sucks, hard.

“Fuckin delicious” He moans, eyes half-lidded. You watch, mouth agape, and it takes one more rough glide from Bucky before your falling apart in front of them.

Your eyes squeeze shut, gripping Buck’s locks as he grunts into you, white-hot saccharine pleasure engulfs your vision, blinding you temporarily. You don't speak, you don’t move, you simply sway against the current, you hear the murmur of Steves's voice calling your name, coaxing you back to the ground.

“You all there baby girl? Hm?” Steve hushes, and your head hits something plush and velvet, nothing like the broad expanse of Bucky’s chest. They seemed to have moved you while you were recovering, you hadn't even noticed.

“Haven't even put my fingers in you and you're already a puddle in my hands, what happened to the fiery girl before, you give up already?” Steve smirks, instigating you.

“Hmph, iss only cause it was me, you think your small dicks can make me cum?” You giggle, high off of the smell of sex and desperation permeating the air.

“Is that right baby? Hm? How about we prove it” Bucky smirks before he roughly reaches for you, dragging you to the edge of the mahogany desk, before tossing ypu to Steve.

Steve picks you up, flipping you acorss his shoulder as he begins to make his way from the offcie and into the darkned hallway.

“Where are we going” You groan, hyour thighs are still shaking from the orgasm Bucky had given you, surely they didnt want another round?

Steves hand comes down, hard againts your basckside, the sound vibrates across the house, and shoots directly to your core. Steve had never touched you like this, with a sliver of pain mixed and folded into pleasure, but you liked it, hell you fucking loved it

“Don’t you fucking open that slutty mouth of yours, what? you thought we were done?” Steve laughs palm coming down again, cereminously.

“We’ve got the whole night to open you right up doll, have your pussy fuckiing weeping after were done” Steve promises, hands sqeezing the curve your ass, the heat spreading up your back.

The only vision you have is the back of Steves dress shoes, the encrusted signange at the heel, the silver metal snake glinting againts the mostly dark surroundings. Buckys shoes follow, you can make ut his hands, glistening with your pleasure, the veins runnings long his arms pressing into the pockets of his pants.

Before long Steve drops you onot the plush covers of your bed, but before you are able to bury yourself into the soft quilt, Bucky rougly turns your around, before pressing tinot rh mattress, thighs between your closed legs, that Steve grips open.

His glistenign fingers reach up to yoiur pants, ripping them open and he drags them down your thighs

“Tsk, tsk tsk, no panties? It's like she knew what was going to happen” Bucky smirks towards Steve, your back againts his chest as he leaves brusiing kissses along the slope of your neck.

Steve hums in response, “Our girl? Our sweet, innocent girl? she would never” 

“That's right, this isn't our sweet girl, isn't that right?” Bucky whispers into the skin of your thighs, gliding his tongue along the curve of it, before begining to bite and suck at the skin right near your quivering folds. 

God why couldt he just move a little bit further?

You golt forward, into Bucky as Steve lands a slap against your pussy, hand reaching between your body, doing it again and again and again until you were weeping, eeys squeezed shut and head hanigng againts Steves warm chest.

“Answer Bucky when he speaks to you” He growls, dipping a thick digit into your folds, swirling your slick around clit, before circling his fingers. You moan anabasdhedly, unaware of how goddamn loud you were being in the ince quiet house.

“Do we need to teach you some manners doll? Hm? Stuff that pretty hole full so we can get some respect?” Steve whispers into your ear, adding a second digit, the cool metal of his rings pressing againts the opening of your hole, you preen, so fucking close you can taste the orgasm and your tongue.

Steve curls his fingers, gliding them againts your velvet walls, and Bucky moves closer, hes faint breath againts your clit that has you gustling againts both their bodies. Bucky holds you still, his hands gripping your waist, pushing your arched back into the mattress and he sucks on your clit.

He groans in appreciaiton, the sound vibrating through your core and it has you screaming his name is earnest. Steve continues to assault your folds, pressing further until he finds the spong spot that has you prrssing your fingers into his arm, trying and failing, to shove his fingers away from you. Tears begin to blur your vision, the cwnterpiece chandilier know but a muffle of lights, but god does it feel good. It burns you, it brands you, this aching pleasure, the overstimualtion of Steevs, his stumble ctaches most of it, the rough hairs scratching againts the softness of your thighs.

Your juices leak between Steves fingers, dripping down and spearing across Buckys chinpressing his hands into your thighs. 

A muffled moan escapes your mouth as you try and suppress the growing need spreading beginning to uncurl. The blinding hot pleasure begins to build, and just as you feel it slding againts your back,  Steve retracts his fingrs from your pussy, and Bucky lets go of your clit with a pop.

The ahce of emptiness hurts you more than their overstimualtion, and yur reaching for thier fingers and face quickly, whines leaving your mouth as your cheeks trail with tears.

Bucky pushes your hands away, into steves grip who lift them over your shoulder, holding them together in one hand. 

“You wont be cumming on anything other than our dicks tonight sweetheart”Bucky smiles, his smirk widens, as your greddily oush your hips into his crotch, neded any friction.

Bucky pushes his cothed cock againts your pussy, the outline of his hard cock pushing againts your clit.

“God look at her Bucky, so fucking needy” Steve groans, watching your hips begin to move, aagin againts Bucky’s boner.

“If I’d known this would keep your mouth shut and preseting, well, doll, i wouldve done this ages ago”. Bucky replies, eyes never leaving your lidden ones.

Buckdoesnt waste a second ripping his suit pants off,  pulling his hardened cock out as it smacks againts his stomach. For a moment you froget how thick he is, the angry red tip of it leaking with precum, dripping along thr slides that were ripled with distinct veins that followed to the cut of his obliques. 

As if reading your mind Bucky softly smirks, lfitng your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips

“Oh baby, ill make sure it fits, il make sure you get every fucking inch and then some” Bucky replies, the juxtaposition of his soft tocuh and his hrds words has you dripping.

Gripping your knees within his grasp, Steve contours your body impossibly wider, giving Bucky enough room to press his entire body against you. His head nudges against your folds, collecting the slick cum dripping from your core, before roughly pushing in, leaving no room to get adjusted. 

You both groan, as your pussy welcomes him, the flutter of your walls squeezing his dick. Bucky’s eyes are screwed shut, and you force yours to stay open as you watch, mesmerized as he pressed his canines into redded lips.

“God, shit, every time we open your pretty little pussy up it just never gets used to us huh? So fucking tight, she’s gripping me like a fucking vice Stevie” Bucky groans loudly, jaw clenched and fingers pressed into the underside of your thighs.

It was no surprise that Bucky and Steve were.. big, to say the least. They’d always known that needed to give you a few seconds to get used to their sheer size, but no, as bucky begins to pound against your slick walls, groaning at your warmth and softness you understand they have abandoned all traditions.

Every rough glide of Bucky's cock through your folds has you moaning in ecstasy, as the burn of his thick shaft presses against your walls. You smash into Steve’s back with every thrust, shoving every inch of himself even deeper into you, Steves's rough fingers come to squeeze your nipples, rolling them between his patted fingers, pulling hard, before letting go.

“Nnnph” You cry out, hands resisting against Steve’s grip, you attempt to close your legs, but it pulls Bucky even deeper, leaving him groaning and sheathing his cock so it circled your walls.

“Don’t go running away now bunny, Bucky’s filling you right up, you should say thank you”. Steve replies cocking his head to the aide, grinning before sneaking his hand to grip your cheeks, squeezing them hard between his fingers.

You cant reply, you cant even speak, the pleasure overwheling you as Bucky rougly shoves his fat cock up to the hilt, your arousal creaming around the base, so fucking wet and messy that it has him almost slipping out.

A hard burn erupts on your cheek, the stinging sensation going straight to your core, Steve slaps you, again, this time harsher as he berates you loudly.

“You dumb bunny, what did i say about repeating myswelf, go on, say thank you to Bucky”

You struggle to keep your eyes open, the thin lids seem to heavy now, Steve squeezes your cheeks again, the rings on his fingers pressing imprints onto your cheekbone, and yu somehow manage to cry out.

“T-thank you, Thank you, thank you!” You moan, the words fallling out of your mouth mechanically.

The mere words leave you echausted, and you slump againts Steve’s broad chest, the only help of his arms holding your knees up. You’ve given up countign how many times Bucky has left you wailing, the sleek of your orgasm just edging him on.

Holding your knees up to your chest bucky presses his cok in a new direction, pressing rougly againts the soft spongy spot

“Oh God!, oh, oh, Bucky please, I can't do anymore- mh” You yelp as Bucky bites into your thigh, grinning as he sucks onto the skin.

“You just feel so good doll, so fucking good, can you give me another one? hm? can you please? I need it, fuck I need you to milk me with those creamy fucking walls” Bucky groans, refusing to falter his movements, harsh thrust bumping the head of cock against your g-spot, your thighs quiver violently, and it isn't soon before your cumming again, milking his cock, your walls tightening around him.

“That's right, milk my fucking cock you slut, got you so dumb and full you can't even form words, you've learnt your place haven't you, doll? Bucky questions his hands coming to push your hair out of your face. You are way in out of your mind to even reply, drool dripping from the corner f your mouth, shaking in a heap of cum and spit.

“So good, baby, so fucking good, I outa give you something back aren't I?” Bucky smiles, eyes falling to the nudge of his cock against your soft stomach. The greys of his pupils darken as he watches, and his curls begin to fall across his face, sticking to his forehead.

“You gonna let me cum in you? Huh? Let me feed this greedy little hole who has been crying for it all night?” Bucky sneers, and your pussy tightens around him in return, leaving him to grip your thighs, red crevices forming into your skin.

Moaning in approval, Bucky fastens his pace, shoving himself in and out without much less than a second, you tighten your walls again, causing obscenities to leave buckys mouth.

“Please Bucky, give it to me, fill me up, I want it, I want to need it”You cry out. It doesn't take long before Bucky empties into you, thick ropes of cum shooting into your pussy, coating your walls, before oozing out of the sides of his fat cock. Bucky watches intently as the mix of both of your arousal slides down your fluttering folds, damping the dark sheets below.

Lost in your pleasure you don’t recognise when Steve had pulled you down to the edge of the bed, your face between his large hands. He looks down intently at you, a blown out expression over his features as he takes in your shallow breaths and test stricken face tracked with dirty mascara.

Steve begins to push your hair back from your face, brushing your tears from your cheeks with his thumb, you think this is a hidden gesture, to show his un wielding desire to care for you. You feel him begin to grip your hair however, pulling you down onto your knees on the cold hardwood floor with one hand.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his unwiedling grip at the back of your head as you look up at him on your knees. It’s a sight to behold, one Bucky not so subtlety captures on a point and shoot. You sit patiently, looking up at Steve through hooded eyes, lazy and dumb from Bucky’s cock.

Steve hums silently, before softly speaking with a grin crarcking thigh his features unnaturally

“Do you think you can fit this cock down that pretty little throat?” Steve smirks, pumping his cock at your salvating expression.

You nod quickly beginning to reach towards him, eager to feel his heavy weight againts your tongue, to trail the long vein along its side and choke againts its girth.

Steve pulls you back violently, corsding his head disapprovingly

“No touching, I’m in control now baby doll, do you understand me? If I even see you begin to move shove your panties in that mouth and lock you in a room for 2 weeks” Steve warns, a dark expression overcoming his face as he cocks his head to the side.

You look over his broad shoulders to see Bucky fucking up into your panties, he catches your eyes with a smirk, winking at your open mouth shock.

“Does your dumb brain understand? Or are you too fucked out of your own mind to even listen” Steve growls at you silence, his grip tightening, shooting a pain down your skull.

You nodded quickly, hands behind your back for emphasis, you needed his cock, you needed so fucking badly.

“Use your big words, cmon you can do it” Steve teases cruelly, smirking down at your needy face, you’ve begun to rock against your palm, Steve’s degradation causes your to shudder in response, clenching against your own hand.

“Yes I unders-“ You let out before Steve slams his cock down your throat, groaning loudly at the feel of your wet mouth.

“Fucking shit babygirl, felt like the first fucking time” Steve groans, looking down as he thrusts into your throat, a paced motion that only went deeper.

You resist the gag threatening to come out at the intrusion, forcing yourself to breathe though your nose, you grip your thigh tightly as your nose begins to brush against the soft hairs at the base.

Your tongue glides against the ridges and veins of his cock, Steve allows you to wrap a hand around whatever you can’t fit, circling your tou hue around his shaft before gliding your way to his tip, he grips your hair tightly as you flatten your tongue against the head, and as you look up at him you find him already staring intently down at you.

Steve quickly takes control wrapping your hair into a makeshift pony tail before angling his hips do that he drove his entire length down further, hitting the back your throat. Muffled groans and scattered half words, leave his mouth, the beginnings of your name and curses filling the room.

Steve speeds up his pace, do that you had no choice but to hold your breathe as he drove deeper and deeper, it was as if all restraint had left him as he lost himself in pleasure, using your throat as merely a hole to fill his cum with.

Ragged breathes from above are all you can here as tears begin to stream down your face, you gag violently but Steve continued his rough thrusts, growling as he sees the tears staining your cheeks, as he sees what his cock has done to you.

You feel rough fingers reach for your throat, gripping it harshly as they squeeze, leaving you with shallow breathes in between the few seconds in which Steve’s cock is not down your throat.

“Holy shit Steve” Moans Bucky as he looks over at your appearance, mascara trucking down your throat, your hair sticking to your forehead, lips spread wide open, and forehead practically kissing Steve’s abdomen.

The lack of air begins to consume you, but you find it impossibly to let of of his heavy weight against your tongue, a strangled moan vibrates against his cock and it has Steve curse your name loudly, gripping your scalp to the point or breakage.

“You’re just a fucking hole aren’t you baby? Huh? Only thing your good for is taking by dick down that tight fucking throat and letting me use you however I fucking want” Steve growls above you, pushing the fallen strands back into his tight grip as he continued to drive into you.

“Talking so much fucking shit, pulling that little stunt you thought up in that dumb brain of yours. Thought you were so smart with that huh? You’re embarrassing, the only thing you did was waste a perfectly good soldier of ours” Steve continued, tutting as if he were talking about the weather.

“Couldn’t have him think he had a chance right Bucky?” Steve says, wrapping his palms around your face now, hitting the back of your throat with little abandon, the dazed expression turning him on as you choke on him. Steve doesn’t wait for him to reply before he continues.

“Now you know your rightful place, on your fucking knees taking me in your mouth, barely able to breathe with your own fingers shoved into your pussy” Steve remarks growning at your soft rocking against your hand.

You moan loudly against him, unable to keep your noises within, the sound vibrates across Steve’s cock, and he drives you violently down his length, your wet hot mouth causing him to growl loudly.

His thrust become sloppy as he glides against your tongue, and without warning, he shoots down your throat, your nose against his stomach as he forced you to take all of it, his full shooting down your abused throat.

He continues to thrust into you slowly, allowing you to breathe finally, as he eases his thick cock from your mouth, cum and spit dribbling down your mouth and down your neck.

You feel yourself falling onto your back before Steve quickly catches you, collecting you into his arms and he guided you onto the bed. Collecting the cum from your stomach and mouth, licking it clean, Steve looks at you intently, an unreadable expression over taking his features and his furrows his eyebrows.

He reached for you before you flinch quickly, causing Steve to quickly retract his hand.

“Hey, hey, you all there? We good” Steve says concern lacing his tone, as he takes in you heaving chest.

Bucky immediately looks down at you, the same concern mirrored on his features.

“M fine, just overstimulated, s’good Steve” You groan licking your lips, causing Steve and Bucky to clench their jaws unconsciously, the wood splintering under their grip.

“Good, because we’re not stopping anytime soon” Steve replies darkly

“Remember we’ve got all night baby doll, and we were just getting started” Bucky grins. Their cocks already getting hard, pressing against your stomach, and their eyes seemed to remain on the cum oozing from between your closed legs, dark grey’s and blue’s watching you, like wolves to the prey.

And you would have no choice but to surrender.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #neonovember #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x fem!reader #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x fem!reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x fem!reader #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!steve rogers #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x black!reader #mafia!bucky barnes x black!trader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #nasty #steve rogers filth #bucky barnes filth #mafia!steve rogers x reader x mafia!bucky barnes #mob!steve rogers #mob!bucky barnes #mafia!avengers #mob boss!au #neo writes #steve rogers x woc!reader

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

"Promise." (Peter Steve Tony &amp; Morgan)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52904539 by astrokingly When a mission goes wrong, the Stark-Rogers kids grieve the loss of their parents. Words: 2480, Chapters: 7/7, Language: English Series: Part 37 of Marvel Whump + Sick-Fics Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel) Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Whump, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Morgan Stark Needs a Hug (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Hurt Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Crying, Grief/Mourning, Avengers Family read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52904539

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

[ao3feed-sambucky]

Snappy &amp; Corny

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Po7OTda by Runzu Bucky can't resist saying dumb, corny shit to Sam. Words: 397, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of SamBucky Crumb Life Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson Additional Tags: No Plot/Plotless, Flirting, Sexual Tension read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Po7OTda

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT #ao3feed

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (29)

Tony Stark's daughter x Bucky Barnes epic slowburn

Logic, Part of Book III: Power (see previous or series)

Summary: Samantha finally admits she used a version of Extremis to save Sam Wilson's life. Tony's attempts to punish his daughter don't exactly work.

Warnings for rough parenting, verbal fighting (out of love but they don't know how), and flirty/fun bonding. Rated Teen/15+ ONLY, please. WC 4k

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE—July 2039

Shirtless and a little cold, Bucky sat in a lab with someone poking and prodding at his arm…again. Tony and Samantha stood arguing over him, radiating the same stubborn righteousness. 

Tony mumbled critiques of Bucky’s impeccably detailed arm, each proving moot upon inspection or a single-phrase reason from its designer. Bucky watched Sam’s shoulders raise, her back shrinking with each backhanded compliment. She was defensive, but for his part, Bucky thought she should be proud. He had no complaints, save for the one time Tony continued to harp on.

“But the neural overload of being hit by Thor’s lightning…?” Tony jabbed again.

“Corrected by a tissue-specific Extremis, locally injected, as you witnessed,” Sam answered.

Tony hovered over the shoulder, wearing magnifiers. “You got lucky,” he scoffed finally.

“No, I didn’t.” Sam backed towards the far chairs, tired and avoiding eye-contact. “It was engineered to die after one proliferation. Captain Barnes was never in danger of infection.”

 “So you admit it’s an infection?” Her father straightened, bouncing a reflex tool off of Bucky’s elbow to measure the flinch. There was no point to it, but Tony always enjoyed making Bucky furrow his brow in annoyance. “Do you know how many things could have gone wrong with an adaptive virus like that?”

Sam’s nostril’s flared. “It worked on Wilson, didn’t it?” 

The room filled with lead. Tony dropped the tool, eyes wide. “Excuse me,” he breathed. 

A light clicked on so ferociously in his mind it made Bucky’s eye twitched. Her concern on our flight to Wakanda, testing Wilson with cards during training…A surge of irritation for not connecting it sooner swept through him.

Sam broke the heavy silence. “I knew the neural-isolated virus would work on Big Sam because I’d already used a dermal version on myself. He wasn’t getting better. Steve told me you all had as good as given up.”

So Steve had to have pieced together what she’d done… This meant she had already used Extremis on herself before that day in the woods. Sam knew exactly what she carried around with her. She had pointed for him to use it. She was exactly as brilliant as Tony and just as self-destructive. He watched her closely in the quiet.

“And Buc—Barnes’s enhanced nerve cells just hadn’t adjusted to the magnification effects of vibranium—” stares followed every move of her anxious hands “—so I…aided their rapid adaptation.”

Bucky tried to help. “And now I’m fine, so we are all good.”

“You experimented on a member of this team?” Tony’s face went purple, several veins dangerously pulsing with every word. “Without his permission? In this building?”

Bucky distinctly remembered Tony saying they had run out of viable therapies. 

Sam rang her hands. “You lied to me,” she spat, “at the wedding you told me he would be fine. Of course I tried everything—I tried more than you did.”

“So you graduated to organ and limb replacement—”

“—treatment—”

“—after one success? That’s ridiculous. That’s reckless.” Tony almost charged at Samantha. She leaned towards him, unafraid. Bucky couldn’t get between them this time.

“How was I supposed to know Buck would get hit by 30,000 amps in a newly connected neuron path?” Sam threw up her arms in Tony’s face. “Even if he had his metal arm, you can’t just dial people up to eleven.”

Tony buckled. “That—” he shouted, waving a finger in his daughter’s face “—that movie is a classic.” He took a long moment to swallow a boulder of pride. 

Sam teetered, eyes darting around from place to place. She had no more reference ammunition.

Bucky sat still as stone, waiting for the accusations of personal endangerment and downright stupidity certain to come, but Tony shifted. His muscles slacked. The crinkling around his eyes smoothed, and Stark turned to Bucky, dismissing him with a pat on the back. 

“You’re done. You’ll survive.” Tony shoved his sleeves up his arms. ”You can go, too, Sass.”

Her neck tensed, lip twitching again, jaw tight as a wire about to snap, but Sam made it out the doors before Tony could even turn around. Standing, Bucky grabbed his shirt, surprised she let Tony have the last word. 

Before Bucky pulled the fabric over his head, however, Tony made his way over to whisper, “other than her ass on that chair behind that screen, nobody discusses Avengers’ business with her. Got it?” Tony pointed to Banner, who stood frozen with a look of utter bewilderment. “Good talk.”

Life at Headquarters attempted normalsy after weeks of changes following Tony’s return. Sam Wilson retired to permanently train new recruits. Steve Rogers returned to the quiet life in the hills, regularly asking Tony if he wished to join him and Sharon for a day. Tony declined and joked about needing to be the center of attention. Not enough cameras. No reason to wear a suit, iron or three-piece.

The dynamics at HQ were shifting, but they needed to, fast. 

Standing inches from a glass wall overlooking busy workers, Stark hoped his outer appearance betrayed nothing of the deep fatigue weighing his insides. He recovered from space-sickness months ago; something more sinister plagued him now.

Bruce Banner sat with Samantha at a far station, several projected screens in front of the doctor while Sam sat quietly ‘being instructed.’ She remained safe at what amounted to an incredibly expensive cubicle with the world’s most over-qualified tutor. Tony convinced himself that Sam felt included doing busy work at the computer.

“I don’t like people handing me things,” Tony grunted, spurning an offering from Maria Hill.

The agent rolled her eyes. “You have taken files from me before, Stark.”

“Well—” he shrugged “—I’m an enigma. Humor me. What’s the lay of the land?”

Maria dropped the files on the shining steel table with a thud, glancing across the room. 

“Shield teams are on every continent dealing with outlying threats or suspected D-Lite transformations. We’ve got alerts out to all morgues to check all overdose victims for traces of the drug to see the scope of its distribution, but not everyone has the resources to test.” Maria sighed. The Director of Operations withheld the current estimated death toll from her briefing. Bruce mentioned to Tony it had reached over one thousand since Cloak and Dagger survived the drug. “Three aquatic inhumans have been assigned to Atlantis to help Namor. Still no sign of Victor Von Doom, but we’ve been unable to search Latveria—”

“Why not?” Tony cocked an eyebrow.

“Diplomatically, it’s a non-starter seeing as we are basically accusing the country of being complicit in harboring an enemy of state—our state, that is.”

Which they are, he thought. He missed the old days of smash-and-grab, asking for forgiveness after he got what he wanted. Iron Man had no nation as Earth’s savior; he landed wherever, whenever…before the Accords.

“Their rep’s language is vague, but it sounds as if our targets are some sort of national treasure. The country’s GDP and living standard have increased remarkably over the last decade. Our enemies are Latveria’s heroes. The people seem to revere Doom.”

“Heroes plural?”

“Again, it’s vague, but they emphasize that no citizens will be considered for extradition whether we have proof of crimes or not. The UN Inhuman Oversight Committee has no jurisdiction. Latveria never signed the Accords and holds no official participation.”

“Where are they getting all this cash, all that industry?” Bruce face sank, his eyes darkened with concern.

Director Hill shrugged, adding only “unknown.”

Sam chirped to attention across the room. “Did we consider the doctor was trying to access vibranium for the benefit of his people?”

Tony shot her down. “We don’t need to give this guy the benefit of the doubt—”

“So motivation isn’t important?”

“We don’t rationalize crazy.”

“Sorry, Tony,” Bruce interrupted, “but we do if it helps figure out motive. We can use it to figure out where he went.”

“So, what’s a substance like vibranium most helpful in use for?” Sam continued. “Weapons? Infrastructure? Medicine? Do we know how much he wanted? Is there an alternative material he may go after?”

“He wasn’t prepared to physically carry much alone over a sea,” Tony thought aloud.

“Adamantium,” Bruce added, “but it’s a poor substitute in certain applications.”

“Has any source of that been attacked?”

Maria flipped open one file. “Nothing. Wanda is with the X-Men, has been for a while, and there’s been no action against their facility, even with teams away on missions consistently.”

Sam sat back in her chair, twiddling her finger clipped inside a monitor attached to an electrified wire. Today’s experiment. “So what did Doctor Doom get that replaced his need for vibranium? Could he have gotten it from somewhere else?”

Tony fitfully paced along the windows. “You are not an agent. Eyes on your screen, Killian-two.”

Sam’s lips tightened in frustration. Her physical training had come to an abrupt halt after Tony woke from his first decent night’s sleep on Earth. She was relegated to sit silently beside Bruce and answer only when asked a question. In her newly free time, Tony allowed Hill to use Sam to check positioning orders. It may have been equivalent to assigning a supercomputer basic algebra, but her mother had been good at it. Why shouldn’t Sam? Sam stayed during a brief only because he was currently testing electromagnetic resonance to disrupt her energy production.

“She has a point,” Maria jumped in. “We originally thought he was trying to update his own shielding with vibranium but if he wanted to do something else…”

“And why did he approach so obviously? Like he wanted to fight you guys,” Sam added.

“Don’t you have a caffeine addiction to feed?” Tony snapped.

 Sam stood and fired a small ball of plasma from her left hand into the steel waste bin inches away from Tony’s leg. It smoked as he turned away, defeated. Current running across her skin caused no disruption. Test failed. Next theory.

“Yeah, I can do that too,” Tony mumbled.

Smug atop her high horse, Sam shifted on her feet. “Without a suit?”

Maria rolled her eyes before they landed on Bruce. “I don’t need to be here for this. Call me if you think of anything else,” she grumbled while walking out.

“You know, I pioneered the functional use of clean energy.” Tony’s chest puffed farther out.

Unamused, Sam’s eyes went wide and her mouth gaped. “No shit? That’s so cool. What’d you say your name was again?”

He clucked his tongue. “Makes me feel a tad disrespected when you speak to me like that.”

“Said everyone who’s ever spoken to you.”

A snort sounded beside her. “Damn it, now there’s two of you,” Bruce murmured, stifling a cough before dismissing himself for a break. 

“And that’s lunch,” Sam said, skirting the table towards the door. “Your bull makes me hungry.”

“Burns calories. Keeps me trim.” Tony slapped his stomach and followed her out. “A burger does sound good.”

She shrugged. “Ty’s got me hooked on cereal now. I mean, I crave it—”

“Also your Hogwarts letter came today,” Tony added, pulling the opened card from his pocket. “Trash can comes out of your allowance.”

Tony walked beside Sam to the kitchen, reciting the fancy cursive words on the oversized page by memory.

Samantha Stark

7am October 5th, 177A Bleeker Street. 

Sorcerer Supreme, Dr. Steven Strange

“Notice how he took twice as much space for his own name. Classic Strange. If you learn any party tricks, be sure to teach me.”

Sam stood firm in a familiar hallway, torn between working her station by Bruce or being alone in her room. Both options made Sam want to cry in boredom.

The gorgeous, strawberry-blond looked back at her from the frame on the wall. Virginia Potts’ dazzling smile, the delicate height of rosy cheeks, and beautiful blue eyes taunted Sam. Her mother looked effortless, radiant, calm. Hung among all sixty-eight portraits, Pepper still stood out in a crowd.

Sam could see that maybe their eye shape was similar, perhaps the fullness of their lips, possibly their jawline. She could remember her mother’s bubbly nature, a story time or two, the gentle sweep of hair across her face when Pepper leaned to kiss her goodnight. It tickled. It tickled her still, the thought of that kind of proximity. Sam sometimes imagined it was Pepper when the room was dark and Laura Barton called ‘sleep tight’ to her.

Pep put out fires for Tony. She said no to him. She put up with years of one-night stands. He paid closer attention to those women than her, even if momentarily…

Sam imagined what advice Pepper would give her now. Consistency, sweetheart, perhaps, and then he’ll see you. But Pepper herself was all Tony ever truly wanted. Nothing Sam could ever do would matter as much.

Her fingers went limp in her daydream, releasing Strange’s invitation to flutter to the grey floor. As she picked the paper back up, Sam had the urge to rip it apart. This wasn’t what she wanted; this wasn’t worth any of the hell she’d gone through. Sam couldn’t sit behind a screen behind Dr. Banner behind the enormous umbrella corporation behind her father. That wasn’t her place.

She was no fighter, and there was never anything mystical about her. Sam would disappoint Strange just as she disappointed Tony.

“Hey.”

Sam startled, spinning around.

“Sorry,” Bucky added, reaching out to help her balance, “I’ve got you. Almost didn’t find you. You weren’t in the lab.”

Sam tried to focus after lost so deep in thought. “Nope.”

Bucky smiled. “Okay, Sass, I had an idea. You game?”

Sneaking a glance back at Pepper’s portrait, Sam haplessly nodded, shrugged, and shook her head all at once. She never knew what she should do at any given time these days. Missy would know, but Sam didn’t.

The pure joy on her face distracted him from the scalding splatter of beef fat on his arm.

“Look! The grill marks are in the shape of my palm,” Sam exclaimed.

“Be careful with that,” Bucky cautioned to her outstretched hand. Cooking seemed a safe activity for Sam to participate in, one of which he assumed Tony would approve, and it proved equally entertaining to Bucky. Everyone eats, and as Sam pointed out, learning to make her father’s favorite from scratch could only help her.

The novelty of Sam’s skin reaching a high enough surface temperature to cook the meat wore off on Bucky much faster than Sam. Seeing her so excited held its luster though. As always when he’d found her, she hadn’t eaten.

Sam slapped down her first charred patty with glowing pride. I could make a habit of this, Bucky thought, I might have to. Ever since Tony and Bruce panicked at Samantha’s confession of injecting Wilson with Extremis, whatever version of it, Wilson was unceremoniously ‘retired,’ moved to D.C. to work with engineers of projects following his upgraded EXO-7. This left Bucky without a partner and benched to do his own worst nightmare—PR.

Public relations made Bucky long for the days of hiding in Romania, speaking to no one, and sitting alone in an apartment in the dark. That was preferable to the flashing cameras, every so often being shrieked at by an over-excited ‘fan.’ Uncomfortable didn’t cover the feeling, a fact Samantha noticed.

“Saw you on TV,” she offered, grabbing another patty. Her glance skittered away when Bucky looked up in question. “I’m sorry you have to do that. You look so miserable.” 

“I thought I pulled it off rather nicely.” Without the infiltration expertise of Natasha, Bucky was far more transparent than he hoped.

Sam snorted. “Sure. Oscar-worthy even.” She defiantly grabbed a potato chip with her free hand and popped it in her mouth, smirking just like her father when he coined a new nickname.  From what Bucky witnessed, the Stark duo were evenly matched in everything except pop-culture references and anecdotes about team members. 

Sam gnashed her teeth as if she’d been raised by monkeys. She flipped the burger like a pancake in her hand.

Her smugness reminded him how irritating Tony could be, and the surge of indignation caused Bucky to strike back, less playfully than intended. “You eat like a heathen.” 

Sam’s smile fell. She rummaged for small chips, eating piece by piece, becoming a model of dainty and quiet chewing. She changed into the type of delicate bird Bucky recently met on dates. That was not his intention, his valid observation surpassed by a twinge of pain seeing her deflating spirit.

“It’s a shame everyone now is so formal,” he said through a frown, hoping to be more convincing than promotional outings.

Sam furrowed her brow in question but remained focused on eating politely.

“I mean, these dates Sharon sets up, coffee and drinks. We just sit there. What happened to dancing or a hike or exploring a city? It’s stifling to not move around.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad to sit still,” Sam offered before fully swallowing another chip, shoulders relaxing. “Picnics are outside but you’re sitting.” Slapping down the cooked burger, she tightened again when she noticed her manners. “How many you up to now?”

“Six.” In half as many months but also in twice as many years. “I’m a regular Casanova of the Coffee Shop.”

Sam snorted. “Librarians not doing it for you?”

“Four were—are agents,” Bucky said, mumbling, “but I’m here all the time when not on mission, so talk always circles back to work and clearance level and what she’s allowed to know. Then I have nothing else to talk about because this building—the job—is, unfortunately, my whole life.”

“There’s the door.” Sam pointed with her free hand. “You just said you wanted to get out there.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, “Sharon said that.”

“So nothing sparked? Did you even try?” Sam fluffed the heap of lettuce beneath the cooked burgers. “Buck, you aren’t Quasimodo. This shouldn’t be that difficult for you.”

“She said that, too.”

Sam raised her shoulders and hands, one still glistening with grease, waiting for an explanation. 

Bucky mimicked her gesture. He had no reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched when he heard her call him ‘Buck.’ She’d done it before, but he couldn’t pinpoint when it started. It was nice, friendly and familiar as when Steve said it, comforting.

Sam sighed a few more times while washing her hands and holding up the plate for Bucky to remove the other patties from the heat.

“Odd question,” she said finally, “are you unhappy?”

“What? No. We both…were alone for so long, Steve just wants the same companionship for me that he’s found.”

The eyebrows raised again as Sam waited for more of an answer that never came. Then she set down the plate to say, “I may not have much experience with…people, but I never saw the appeal. I may have been unhappy with myself at times, but no person brought me out of that. If they had, that would be unfair to hang my happiness on them. Personally, I don’t believe that’s what love is for.”

At 18 years old Sam instantly became the wisest person in the building.

“But,” she added, “you also don’t want to end up like my father because that is just sad.” Sam looked Bucky dead in the eyes, saying “even Frankenstein’s monster had a bride.”

“Sam!” Tandy burst around the corner. “Found you. Oh gosh, smells great. You coming down for bowling? Ty’s setting up.” The blond huffed, out of breath from her excitement and race through the halls. Her gaze landed on Bucky. “You can come too if you bring the food.”

“Jeez, Dee, tell him your priorities,” Sam retorted but snapped up the plate all the same. She made no attempt to ask Bucky if he would join. “We’re in. Grab whatever fixings you want from the fridge.”

Bucky couldn’t argue; after making a big deal about not having activities, bowling qualified as another safe and normal pastime. He followed with the chips.

He did not prepare himself for the contrast between the sage wisdom Samantha had laid forth in the kitchen and the crouching form centered in the lane, heaving a ball from between her legs. It was truly painful to watch and yet utterly hysterical.

He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Sam grumbled, planting hands on her hips as she stood up. “You don’t like my granny-roll?”

Bucky could barely get out the words through choked breaths. “Why…why can’t… you just…throw it normally?”

Sam opened her mouth to make some indignant reply but was cut short by a third, neutral party.

“We found out the hard way—” Tyrone indicated a sloppily patched hole in the wall above the pins “—that Sam cannot roll gently into that good lane.” Smiling, his air was tailor-made bombast aimed directly at his friend.

Sam rolled her eyes well enough. “Thank you, Winston.” She returned to her seat beside Bucky while Tandy bowled her frame. “It’s all or nothing with exerted force, it seems, but not the generated energy blasts. Those I can control pretty well now. It’s fascinating, but apparently not interesting enough to research since Tony’s return. I suspect it has something to do with extended direct contact with the vibranium in my skin since this is my dominant hand.” Sam’s rambling ended with a wiggle of the fingers on her right hand before she looked up.

Bucky zoned out somewhere in the middle, but he did manage to keep his expression focused enough that Sam was fooled. See, I’m ok at acting. I’m convincing.

Tandy dance-bowled across the lane, gracefully landing a seven-ten split. Tyrone gave a golf clap and picked up his ball of choice. They’d heard Sam’s theories before. Neither having a scientific bone in their bodies, no one responded.

Sam pushed her empty plate away and tucked her hands into her hoodie pocket.

“Have you ever tried,” Bucky delicately started, “talking like everyone else?”

Sam scoffed, adjusting her shoulders against the hard chair.

“What’s wrong with intelligence?”

Bucky felt the hair on his arm bristle in discomfort. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s sure as shit what it sounded like. I’m not ladylike enough for you? Get in line. I’m not the one who wants ‘movement dates’ and a woman with a lizard pin. Be unique but not too unique. Jeez, with my loud eating, my granny-roll, even my scientifically curious thoughts—” Sam flatlined her hands in a sweeping motion “—then I’m…what? Indelicate? Uncouth? Unfriendly? So it’s my fault my father can’t stand me?”

Unable to stop himself, Bucky pressed his hands up to calm her, replying, “that was perhaps the most unladylike thing I’ve witnessed in fifty years. Please, I meant nothing else. I meant—” What the hell do I mean? “—communication is important to…listening can help friends relate to…common interests.” He couldn’t grasp his point. The smirk across his lips threatened to release his own indelicate snort as he imagined the slow, ridiculous move which he was sure to witness repeatedly.

Sam pursed her lips. “That was the most unintelligible thing I’ve ever heard…” she said under her breath, “but I listened to it.”

Tandy dressed another burger. “Hate to burst your bubble, Cap, but you can’t go back. She’ll tear you apart with logic. Better move on.” She cut it in half, Tyrone claiming the second half on his return to the table. Bucky noticed them move like yin and yang, perfectly in sync.

“Right,” Bucky mumbled. I suppose I can’t, for better or worse.

“You’re up.” Ty wiped the corner of his mouth. “Wasn’t there a dance where the men did just that b-between their legs to the woman?”

There was a dance like that, and Bucky remembered fondly that Miss Dot with her red eyed pin was the last partner he’d had for it.

“You know what that means,” Tandy giggled. “Go show us your granny-roll.”

[Chapter Thirty: Furnace]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#the stark legacy #tony stark's daughter #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fic #slow burn #slow build #epic tale #avengers fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #minor cloak and dagger

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Next up on my Not That series asks:

This is super random, but I recently saw a video about the phonetic alphabet, and this woman was spelling something to her bf and just making up her own (as I feel most of us do tbh) and her bf was stressed and baffled.

So now I'm imagining AJ making up random words when spelling something and army bros Steve and Bucky (and maybe Sam, but I think he'd find it funny) just being like ??? The fuck was that?? And then trying to be like honey… no, that's wrong, but no worries we'll teach you 🥰 and AJ deciding that no that's fine, I like mine better. (I can also imagine her forgetting words that start with the needed letters and panicking lol)

(If you wanna add more people, Rhodey and even Logan could also be thrown off by her chosen words)

So I have been struggling with my original work as of late (one of those 'words are in my head but I can't get it on paper' scenarios) but AJ has been on my mind a lot lately because of it! And absolutely I love that scenario b/c as we know AJ does shit just to do shit, and the moment she found out it annoyed/confused anyone else she'd amp it up just for the hell of it😂

#feel free to ask me about anything!! #asks #not that lucky #original character

[cyphers-and-sunspots]

Marvel characters as stuff me and my friends said:

Scott: What if I get a goldfish and name him Goldfish? Shoot, I meant Gus.

Peter: How do I use this? *proceeds to turn amp to 11*

Tony: So…you’re telling me I can call you Legolas?

Steve: Sometimes, you really just need to punch a wall.

Vision: What is a wall?

Sam: Dude, you’re barely a triangle.

Bucky: NO, I’m an ostrich.

#avengers #scott lang #peter parker #vision #tony stark #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes

[wesper-ao3feed]

How to Human 101 - featuring the Avengers &amp; everyone's favorite Crows

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/XRHwmVb by AnAlienFromJupiter The Avengers meet the Six of Crows, and they teach them about the amazing things in life, such as pizza and movies. This is 91% fluff with a sprinkling of angst and just a touch of plot (basically, "would you like some plot with your fluff?"). Words: 1098, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel) Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey & Inej Ghafa & Matthias Helvar & Wylan Van Eck & Nina Zenik Additional Tags: Jesper Fahey Has ADHD, Tony Stark Has ADHD, Clint Barton Has ADHD, BAMF Natasha Romanov (Marvel), BAMF Inej Ghafa, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Genderfluid Jesper Fahey, Inej Ghafa Needs a Hug, They all need hugs, Please help these children, They/Them Pronouns for Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Angst, very little though, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Harley Keener Being a Little Shit read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/XRHwmVb

#wesper #wylan x jesper #wesper fanfiction #wesper ao3feed #ao3feed #fanfiction

[ao3feed-petermj]

Spiders &amp; Widows &amp; Ronins

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/aDKS8GN by Rain_cloudsx “With great power comes great responsibility.” Peter croaked. Bucky gripped his hand with his metal one and offered him a sad smile. “And that’s why great power should be shared.” (Aka a Clint & Bucky adopt Peter post NoWayHome / new gen Avengers au / Peter’s parents were SHIELD Agents au) Words: 2781, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Hawkeye (TV 2021), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Cooper Barton, Stephen Strange, Happy Hogan, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Kate Bishop & Peter Parker, Yelena Belova & Peter Parker, Laura Barton & Peter Parker, Cooper Barton & Peter Parker, Nathaniel Pietro Barton & Peter Parker, Lila Barton & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Canon Continuation, Post-Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Has Issues, Swearing, Deaf Clint Barton, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Protective Clint Barton, Clint Barton's Farm, Asexual Yelena Belova, Asexual Kate Bishop, Clint Barton Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Clint Barton Acting as Kate Bishop's Parental Figure, Bucky Barnes Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Protective Bucky Barnes, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gay Sam Wilson, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Clint Barton read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/aDKS8GN

#spideychelle #PeterMJ #petermjane

[ravenlostsnippets]

“This World is just Full of Potential Triggers”

After endgame fic where the original six come back and take the new avengers on an initiation trip (even tho the new avengers have been the new team for like a year) to Europe. Unfortunately they basically take Peter’s trip - Venice, Prague, Berlin, London

Obviously  Peter tampers down his triggers, having a panic attack and night terrors every night, until it just becomes too much and he passes out. 

Loosely based off this: Wash Off the Dust - orphan_account - Marvel Cinematic Universe 

Peter is like 18 i think

Peter’s vision was swimming when he heard Carol and Sam curse.

“Fuck I’m an idiot,” Carol shouted, loud and abrasive as usual.

Natasha looked at her, incredulous. “What?”

“God I’m such a bad team leader,” Sam covered his face and well, Peter didn’t want that.

“N - no,” Peter rapidly shook his head, trying to get a breath but Wanda soothingly rubbed his back.

“Breathe Pete,” she murmured. 

Somehow, in the haze, Peter found Tony. The man was standing in shock. Peter wanted to cry but his head was spinning so much he couldn’t remember how.

“What’s happening?” he finally breathed. 

“Panic mania attack,” Doctor Strange said dismissively, studying his hands as he waved them around, creating a spell. “Something Peter has been experiencing frequently as of late.”

“What - why?” Steve demanded, looking completely off his game.

“His Europe trip,” Bucky explained. “When he got back to school after the snap, his decathlon went on a trip to Europe. Long story short, this guy created these villains and this story to seem a hero, Peter had to deal with it, and the guy made Peter out as a murderer.” Bucky paused. “And revealed his identity.”

“Jesus,” Tony covered his face and Peter turned into Wanda’s chest, failing to breathe. He tried to gasp it out but it didn’t work and Wanda held him, understanding. And he felt her presence in her mind and then he dropped like a rag doll, eyes rolling before passing out.

Tony felt like he was going to throw up. 

Failing to breathe, Peter had turned towards Wanda and Tony recognized the familiar glow of her eyes as they tinted red. Peter was still jittery and gasping when suddenly his eyes rolled and he went limp and it was almost like he stopped breathing. Tony felt sick.

“Oh my god,” Natasha said faintly behind him while Steve shook a little. 

“What was that?” Clint whispered, looking equally horrified.

“I made him pass out,” Wanda said simply.

“Yeah but he just -” Steve gagged a little. “He looked like he died.”

“He lost motor control,” Wanda waved them off. “He’s fine. Better now. This is the only way to deal with his panic attacks.”

“I can think of several better ways,” Tony croaked out.

Wanda gave him a hard glare. “When he gets that amped up, he needs to be knocked out. There’s nothing else that works.”

(something slightly different)

“I hate this,” Wanda whispered, eyes closed. 

Sam sighed. “It’s for the best Wanda.”

Tony frowned. 

“It helps,” Carol clarified, seeing his face. “With the nightmares. All of us need her.”

“No,” Wanda shook her head. “No you don’t. All of you can get on without me. Peter...Peter is…” she started crying. “I can feel it Sam. He’s addicted to my power. He can’t -” she took a shuddering breath while Carol and Sam looked at her with dawning realization. Bucky lowered his head while Tony’s breath caught. “He’s in so much pain….all the time. He can’t...he can’t live without it. My magic.” she looked over at them, eyes hurt. “I learned how to live on. Sam learned. Bucky learned. All of you did. None of you need me. It’s nice sometimes because it’s easier but it’s not a cop out. You don’t need it all the time. He does.” She broke down fully, sobbing. “And it’s not okay. It’s not healthy. But I can’t just - can’t just run away from him. I can’t let him suffer - not when he begs me to help him but it’s...it’s not - I can’t -” She covered her face, pulling in on herself in pain. 

Vision - still slightly robotic - drifted down and slowly wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into it instinctively, still sobbing.

#snippet #fic idea #tw ptsd #tw

[corikane]

Watching Sam & Bucky

Watching Sam & Bucky

(With SPOILERS) Episode 1 – New World Order It’s been about six months since the Re-Snap and Sam (Anthony Mackie) is working with the Air Force to protect a military liaison from a criminal organization called LAF. These people are trying to make money any way they can. Sam’s mission is successful and he returns home to Delacroix, Louisiana, where he’s living with his sister (Adepero Oduye) and…

View On WordPress

#Anthony Mackie #Bucky Barnes #Daniel Brühl #Disney+ #Falcon #Helmut Zemo #John Walker #MCU #Sam &amp; Bucky #Sam Wilson #Sebastian Stan #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #The Sam &amp; Bucky Show #tv series #Winter Soldier #Wyatt Russell

[originaljediinjeans]

Bucky Barnes at the Crossroads of Destiny

Bucky Barnes at the Crossroads of Destiny

The thing about being obsessed with someone or something is that you can’t run out of things to say about the thing. Your mind is constantly turning the subject over and finding new angles. From time to time, this is actually beneficial.

I was going to write a longer post and go more in-depth about the upcoming DisneyPlus series The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. The thing was, the draft came to…

View On WordPress

#Bucky Barnes #Captain America #Character Analysis #Falcon &amp; Winter Soldier #Fandom #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Personal #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Winter Soldier

[jayvoicetrg]

‘The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’: Sam & Bucky Can’t Escape Their Pasts (RECAP)

‘The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’: Sam & Bucky Can’t Escape Their Pasts (RECAP)

TownNews.com Content Exchange Facebook Twitter Email Print Save [WARNING: The following contains MAJOR spoilers for The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Season 1, Episode 1.] For those wanting high-adrenaline fights, the first episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier might be a disappointment. The central duo hasn’t joined up by the end credits. Emily VanCamp’s Sharon Carter hasn’t appeared.…

View On WordPress

#‘The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’: Sam &amp; Bucky Can’t Escape Their Pasts (RECAP)

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

"And that's a promise." (Peter &amp; Tony)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54545149 by astrokingly When the truth about Peter's boyfriend comes out, Tony struggles to be there for him as he is reminded of his past. Words: 322, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English Series: Part 42 of Marvel Whump + Sick-Fics Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Friday (Marvel) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Avengers Team Members & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Whump, Peter Parker Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Domestic Violence, Sick Character, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Vomiting, Warning: Skip Westcott, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Protective Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Concussions, Bruises, Tony Stark Has Panic Attacks, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Past Sexual Assault, Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Protective Avengers read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54545149

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark