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late-to-the-party-81 · 11 months

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Apparently words can hurt me

AN: I’m back again, filling multiple challenge squares in one fic, and indulging my love of pre-serum Stucky. This fic is for the following fills;

Into the Juniverse - Squares C1,3 and 4 - Modern, Bookstore, Medical - @buckybarnesevents

The Slumber party, May challenge - “Who did this to you?” @the-slumberparty

BBB Y1 - Sticks and stones @buckybarnesbingo

Beta’d by @sparkagrace

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list

Relationship: ER Doctor Steve Rogers x Bookstore Owner Bucky Barnes

Word count: 2.8k

CW: Fluff, minor angst, suggested Smut, implied bottom Bucky, pre-serum Stucky, alcohol consumption, fast burn, strangers to lovers to friends, meet cute/meet ugly, Special guest star Alpine, Nat and Sam are a good bros (even if they give their friends shit), alternating pov, Human disaster Bucky Barnes, implied age gap (Bucky late 20’s, Steve, mid 30’s)

“So, Steve - how’s your first day going?”

Steve turned, hanging his stethoscope around his neck, and smiled up at his friend and colleague, Sam. He clasped hands with the man he’d known since medical school and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Not that he really could have stopped it - Sam was over half a foot taller than him, and was obviously a big fan of both arms day and legs day. The man’s muscles had muscles, and Steve, well, didn’t really. He’d tried building muscle in the past but his metabolism was so ridiculously fast that he’d almost bankrupted himself trying to up his protein intake.

“It’s going great, man. It’s good to be back on the East Coast, even if it does seem to be a lot wetter.”

“I think trading sunshine for working with a friend is still a definite upside.” Sam’s sunny mood never failed to make Steve smile. “You were wasted in L.A.”

Steve nodded, thinking back to the circumstances that had led to him packing up and moving to the other side of the country after he’d qualified, and then the circumstances that had led to him returning and taking up residence at King's County. It had been a while since he’d worked in an ER, but it was like falling off a bike. Or rather patching up someone who’d fallen off a bike.

“Well, I’d best get back to it - I’ve got a suspected fracture of the tibia in bay three.”

“Drinks - tonight - seven - Gallis. Don’t be late, Rogers.” Steve chuckled as Sam shot him finger guns, before heading back down the corridor to Obstetrics.

He’d missed Sam. He’d missed New York. Most of all, he’d missed himself - missed what he’d hidden of himself while he’d been away. He was back now, though and ready to get on with the rest of his life. He strode towards Bay Three and picked up the chart attached to the bed. He sat down next to the forlorn looking teenager who was probably the same height as him.

“Now, Mr Parker. How did you manage this?

“Nat! Naaaaaat!” Bucky called out to his best friend-slash-co-owner, desperately trying to keep the large stack of books balanced in his arms. Something bumped his ankles and he peered down. “No. Not you, Alpine. You don’t have opposable thumbs.” The white ball of fluff just continued to purr and rub against her human’s legs. Bucky tried to nudge his baby away, but the change in balance caused the top book to slide, bumping against Bucky’s cheekbone.

“Nat! Help!”

“What’s up, Buckminsterfullerene?”

Nat appeared as if by magic, riding the roll-along ladder like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. If Bucky could have pinched the bridge of his nose he would have. Instead he just settled for a sigh.

“You know completely what’s up, and you’re just waiting for the right moment to say ‘I told you so’. I’ve overestimated how many books I can put away at once, again. Now will you please help me?”

She jumped down, her red hair swinging around her shoulders.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll take you for drinks at Gallis once we’ve closed up? We can people-watch, maybe find a couple of guys to flirt with and buy us more drinks?”

Nat stepped forward and took a handful of books off the top of the stack, holding them in one arm and started to put them away. She pursed her lips as if she was trying to decide, but Bucky knew she wouldn’t be able to resist that offer - it was their favourite Friday evening activity, which said a lot about their respective love lives.

“You’re on, Barnes, but tell me you got something cute upstairs in your wardrobe that I can borrow.”

“Nat, you know full well that half your wardrobe is upstairs, pushing mine out. You’re here that often.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark. And anyway, it gives you more options.”

Bucky huffed, and blew a lock out of his brown hair out of his eyes, before realising that the stack of books left in his arms was now actually manageable and could be put away.

“I might be slim, but I’m not that slim.”

“Betcha $10 that I can make an outfit out of my stuff for you to wear this evening.”

Nat smiled at him, eyes twinkling and he grinned back.

“You’re on, Romanoff!”

“So you’re telling me that your patient really thought he could scale down from a second storey window?” Sam’s expression was a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Steve grabbed an olive from the bowl in front of them, threw it up and caught it in his mouth.

“Yup. Kid thought that if he covered his hands and feet in some kind of sticky resin he could go up and down the wall like a spider. No lie. Not even drunk. Just a clever kid with too much time on his hands and not enough common sense.”

Sam laughed, and wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.

“God, man. I’m glad I’ve left general medicine behind.”

“Yeah, now you just have to deal with a load of…”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it. That joke gets old, real fast. So, other than an idiotic teenager, you enjoying being back? Ready to put yourself out there?”

Steve took a swig from his beer, more to give him a second’s space than the need to actually slake his thirst. Sam looked at him expectantly, and Steve knew he wasn’t going to get out of answering.

“Yes to the first and maybe to the second.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“Maybe? Come-on, dude. It’s been like, what, four… five months since you broke up. I’m not saying go out and propose to the first person you meet, but there’s no harm in a little flirting, a little dancing. And I can tell you, there’s a young man over there who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you.”

Steve knew who he meant - it had been difficult not to notice the certified twink propped up against the bar drinking cocktails with his red-headed friend. The young man looked like he’d been poured into those black skin-tight jeans, and the rather feminine, purple button-up, left open over an equally feminine black crop top, accentuated his pale skin and red, pouty lips. Steve would be a liar if he said he wasn’t interested - part of him definitely was, but the more cautious part of him, the part that was still nursing his battered and bruised heart, wasn’t sure.

“Go on, Steve. Buy him a drink. Or at least offer.”

Sam was nothing if not persistent. Steve downed the rest of his bottle, trying for a bit of dutch courage. Apparently, he wasn’t getting out of this either.

“This hasn’t got anything to do with the fact that you want to speak to his friend, does it?”

Sam smiled around his bottle neck before placing it, now empty, back on the table.

“I plead the fifth on that.” Steve smiled back, but rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Come on, before I chicken out. But one drink. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh? I bet you’ll want to stay for more.”

Damn-it!

Steve hated it when Sam was right. He’d almost forgotten how insufferably smug his friend could get, but he had no doubt he would be reminded in the morning. Or rather later in the morning, because it was 4.30am and Steve was quietly trying to find his pants.

He’d never been a one-night stand kinda guy before, and truly, he hadn’t intended to go home with this man - Bucky - but with each swig of beer, each whispered flirtation, each dance, it had seemed like a better and better idea. They’d gone back to Bucky’s - a small apartment above a bookstore - and, well, things had escalated quickly.

Now, Steve wasn’t going to say he regretted it, because whoo-ee, was Bucky something - very hot, very talented - but now, as the alcohol and post-orgasmic haze was wearing off, he was feeling… awkward?

Bucky was lying on his front on his bed, head turned to the side and lightly snoring. A shaft of light from the street outside shone through the somewhat ratty curtains, highlighting Bucky’s glorious cheekbones and kissable lips. Steve felt a pull inside him, a pull to just get back into the warm bed, wrap his arms around Bucky and go back to sleep but he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was too soon got anything like that.

Locating his slacks, he tugged them on. Groping around further he found his shirt, one sock and both shoes. Gathering them to himself, Steve crept towards the bedroom door, opened it a slither, and snuck out.

As he took a step forward something soft and warm brushed against his foot. Somehow he managed to stifle his scream.

“Mmmerp?”

A pair of large eyes looked up at him in the darkness. Juggling his armful of clothes, Steve pulled out his phone, and turned on the torch.

“Oh, thank fuck. You’re just a cat.”

The animal tilted its white fuzzy face.

“Mmmerp?”

Steve shuffled over to the sofa, resting his phone on the coffee table as he stuffed his arms into his shirt.

“Sorry, little one. I have no idea where your owner keeps your kibble. You’ll have to manage.”

He pulled on his lone sock and slipped on his shoes, making a face at how his bare foot stuck to the leather inner. Laces tightened, he picked up his phone and quietly made his way over to the front door.

“Do me a favour, kitty? Give Bucky a kiss for me, yeah?”

“Mmmerp!”

Carefully shutting the door behind him, and trying not to think too hard about the heaviness in his heart, Steve pulled up his ride share app, and booked himself a cab home.

“So, he just bailed on you?”

Bucky stared down at the account book open in front of him, hoping that the numbers would just start to make sense on their own. And hoping that Nat would just drop it.

“Uh-huh. Gone when I woke up. Left a sock behind though.”

“A veritable Cinderella, then.”

“Ha-ha, Nat. Very funny. His name was Steve.”

Bucky shut the ledger with a snap, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t even know why I’m so cross. It’s not like I haven’t done the moonlight flit before.”

Nat leant against the counter, checking her pristine make-up in her compact mirror.

“It hurts, cos you were on the receiving end this time. My advice? Let it go. You got a good lay out of it, yes?”

“Yes…” It might have been begrudgingly, but he had to agree - the sex had been spectacular. Maybe that’s why he was so sour? Upset that he didn’t get to get up close and friendly to Steve’s dick again? For a short guy, he’d definitely been packing… Oh, well.

“Well, ride the high of a good fuck and move on.”

“Okay, okay. What about you and his friend?”

Nat turned her head and gave a coy smile.

“Sam? A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t no lady. Ow! Don’t hit me!”

Bucky laughed as he raised his arms to fend off Nat’s friendly blows.

“Uncle! Uncle! I give in, I’m sorry.”

“Hhmmff. I suggest you get on with some work. Maybe you should do the book sorting and I’ll do the accounts?”

“Sounds like a plan. And Nat?”

“What?”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Why had he drunk so much last night?

The lights in the ER were far too bright, and he was now 10 hours into an 8 hour shift. And why on earth did people insist on inserting things that shouldn’t be inserted into places that shouldn’t have things inserted?

“Dr Rogers? Are you able to check over the patient in Bay 5?”

“Hmmm?” Steve turned to see the face of Wanda, the triage nurse looking at him expectantly. He bit back a moan as he wiped his hand over his face. “I mean, sure. What’s the story?”

“He says he had an accident at work, but something heavy has impacted his face. His left orbit is bruised and there’s a large edema, which is interfering with his vision.”

Wanda was chewing her lip and Steve could tell she wasn’t sure if the guy’s story was true.

“Okay - I’ll take a look. You’ve got his chart?”

“Right here. And thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.”

Steve pushed up from the desk where he’d managed to find all of two minutes' peace and skimmed through the chart for his new patient as he made his way over to the bay.

“Okay… James, is it?” As he pulled open the curtain and looked up, he froze. “Bucky?”

“Steve?”

Wanda hadn’t been kidding - Bucky was pretty banged up, but he was still as beautiful as Steve remembered.

The clipboard clattered to the floor and suddenly Steve found himself right in front of Bucky, gently cradling his bruised face in his hands.

“Who did this to you?”

For a heartbeat, Bucky just stared at him and then…

“What? What do you mean?”

“Was it a jealous boyfriend? If so, I’m so sorry. But also, give me his name. I’ll make sure he never sees the light of day again.”

Bucky’s eyes - well, one of them - went wide with understanding before he hissed and winced. Steve picked up the ice pack that had been discarded on the side table and pressed it to the purpling side of Bucky’s face.

“Steve, slow down. It wasn’t somebody else. There’s no boyfriend. No any-one. I had an accident, that’s all.”

“But what? How?”

Bucky chuckled, then winced again.

“Nat’s not going to let me live it down. I do it all the time, and finally, it backfired. I was putting the books away, you know, in my shop.”

No, Steve didn’t know. Hadn’t realised that the shop below the apartment had been Bucky’s shop. To be fair, he was a little distracted at the time. However, he nodded anyway, aware that he was probably gaping like a fish.

“Well, I have a tendency to overestimate how many books I can carry at once, and then I overbalanced, and crrsshhh,” he gestured wildly. “A dozen hardbacks were bouncing off my face. And I thought I was safe with words. Isn’t it supposed to be sticks and stones that break my bones?”

Another heartbeat of silence and then…

“Oh my God, Bucky. You didn’t just say that?” Steve slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the chuckle that threatened to burst out. “Come on. Let me have a look. We might have to send you to X-ray though.”

Bucky couldn’t believe it. Steve - Sexy Steve from last night - was a doctor. He was certain it was only the pain in his face that stopped his dick from standing straight to attention when Steve had walked in, all professional in his white coat with a stethoscope around his neck.

He also couldn’t believe he’d made that cheesy joke, and that Steve had been all worried about him.

While Steve did his thing, gently probing and taking notes, and asking him about his pain levels, Bucky ruminated on Steve’s reaction.

“Steve…”

“Mmmhhmmm?” Steve was still looking down at the papers, pen in between his lips, and God, if he hadn’t looked sexier.

“Were you really worried that someone had assaulted me?”

“What? Umm… well…yes. I was worried it was my fault too. Look, Bucky, it was really shitty of me to leave like I did this morning. I’m not... I mean I don’t…” His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and Bucky took pity on him, leaning over and pressing his finger to Steve’s lips.

“Hey. It’s okay. I don’t think either of us was communicating properly last night - well, communicating in a non sex-specific manner - I think we got that down, don’tcha think?”

Steve gulped.

“Umm, well…”

“Let’s start again, okay? I’m James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to my friends. I own and run a bookstore with my best friend Natasha, and I’m rubbish at relationships.”

He stuck out his hand towards Steve, who looked at it, before reaching out with his own.

“I’m Steve Rogers, ER doctor, here at King’s County. I’ve just returned from several years in LA, and having my heart broken in the process. I’m looking to take things slow.”

“I can do slow. Say, when we both get out of here, if anywhere’s still open, would you like to go and get a coffee?”

“I think I’d like that a lot, Bucky.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

#stucky fic #stucky au #pre-serum stucky #steve x bucky #late writes #connect4au #navy and roo’s sleepover #buckybarnesbingo2023

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

valentine's day masterlist

summary - after a long day of doing his job, cupid steve is stopped by a beautiful woman. one that leaves him a whimpering mess, one that is also his happily ever after.

warning - sub steve, dom reader, oral sex, swearing, slightly public, teasing, angst, fluff, sex with cupid, steve sorta feels bad about himself.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Steve had just finished shooting people with arrows, smiling sadly as he watched all of these people fall in love, wondering if he would ever get that. Steve had realised that being Cupid made finding love harder, especially when women would see his size. He knew he wasn’t like most men. He was small and shy.

He dodged the many dancing bodies as he began to head to the exit, not noticing that your eyes had been on him the whole night. You step out of the shadows, and your sleeveless tight black dress catches Steve’s attention, causing his breath to hitch. He takes in the laced sides, black heels matched with your see-through tights, and black gloves. Steve feels his eyes nearly bug out of his head when he notices how well the dress fits your body, forming perfectly around your breasts and hugging your mouthwatering figure.

“Hey, Pretty Boy. Where are you going looking so glum?” His mouth opens and closes as he focuses on your plump red lips. He wondered how they would feel against his skin. Steve felt like he was staring too long, but you looked like a goddess with how you looked, how your perfectly curled hair fell to your shoulders, your red shaded lips spread into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. “Hmm? Haven’t found yourself a pretty girl to dance with?” You circle him, your eyes scanning his small form, causing Steve to squirm.

Steve gulps. He shakes his head, and his palms become clammy as your sweet scent enters his senses. “N–no, I’m not–” You press a perfectly manicured finger to his lips, smirking slightly as he squirms.

“It’s okay, Sugar. I’m glad no one’s snatched up a sweet little thing like you.” You lean in, your breath blowing softly against his ear. “Means I get to have you all to myself.” You look deep into his ocean-coloured eyes, a dark glint in your eyes as his face becomes flushed. “Would you like that, Sugar? Would you like to be all mine? Have me devour and worship you? Would you like that, Pretty Boy?”

Steve feels his pants tighten, nodding slowly as you drag a nail down his cheek and neck. Your wicked smile pulls him deeper into the darkness the more he stares. “I–I would… Like that… But, I’m” He looks down at himself, suddenly full of sadness, before he looks back into your eyes. “Haven’t you seen me? I’m not what women want.”

You smile sadly, hand moving down until you rest it on his side, the feel of silk beneath your fingertips. “Oh, Sugar. You’re perfect. Now, what do you say we get out of here?” You move closer. Pressing your body against him, and a shocked gasp escapes you when you feel his impressive bulge. “Oh, we definitely need to get out of here. I didn’t know you were packing, Pretty Boy.” When you press your palm into his bulge, a whimper leaves Steve, and he nods frantically.

“Y–yes, yes, please.” He felt his member throb and twitch from your touch, his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, and his knees almost give out. Steve’s hand latches onto your arm, pressing himself closer to you. “Please, please.”

You stroke his cheek with your other hand, continuing to press into his swelling cock. “You’re such a good boy, Sugar. C’mon, we can’t exactly have you a whimpering mess in such a public place, now, can we?” Steve shakes his head, his mind becoming too fuzzy even to think. A pained whimper escapes him when you remove your hand, placing it into his as you lead him out of the room and into the lobby. You lead Steve to the elevator, and the minute the door shut. You pounce, covering his flushed neck with nips and kisses.

You push him against the wall, your tongue lapping at his sweet spot, sucking it into your mouth and feeling your core throb as moans fall from his lips. Steve doesn’t know where to put his hands, clenching and unclenching them as you continue to make him feel the most intense pleasure. “P–please.”

You pull away, and your lust-filled eyes meet his half-lidded ones. You lean close, lips inches away from his, but not touching. “Please, what, Sugar? What do you want, hmm?” He whimpers, and his mouth opens as he’s about to reply, but he’s cut off by the elevator doors opening. “C’mon, Pretty Boy. Maybe you can tell me what you want in my room.” You grab hold of his hand again, dragging him along before you reach the door to your room. You let his hand go for a split second to open it before grabbing hold of him again.

Steve’s eyes take in how pretty the room is, not being able to look for long as you drag him to the bedroom. His heart skips a beat, not believing his luck. You softly push him onto the soft bed, his eyes wide as he watches you teasingly strip from your dress. Steve’s mouth drops open, and his eyes slowly drag down your form. “You… You’re so beautiful….” He blinks and then blinks again. His widened eyes shot up and met yours, “I–I’m sorry!”

You smirk, slowly moving toward him and leaning over. You begin to stroke his cheek with your hand, “It’s okay, Sugar.” He struggles to keep eye contact with you, which is extremely hard as your plump breasts sit perfectly, and your bare cunt is on display for all to see. Your gloves and heels are still on, and your dress and tights are piled on the floor as you kneel on the bed and crawl toward Steve. “So, Pretty Boy. What do you want?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes, feeling his member strain against his pants more at the sight of you. “Y–you… I want you.” He gasps, eyes closing as your lips touch his. His hand moves until it rests on the back of your head, his other gripping your hip. His head tilts back slightly as your lips move together, and a soft whimper escapes him when your tongue slithers into his awaiting mouth. Your hand moves slowly, travelling up his thigh and to his twitching member. You palm it, enjoying the cute little whimpers that leave him. Your fingers begin to unzip his zipper, freeing his impressive cock.

“Well, well. How do you manage to get around with this in your pants? Huh, Sugar?” Steve blabbers, mouth hanging open as you stroke his base, thumb swirling around his leaking tip. Collecting some of his arousal and placing your thumb into your mouth, eyes connected with his as you suck, Steve feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. You move down his body, face levelled with the thick member. “So pretty, so big.” His hips jerk as you run your fingers along his base. “I must be the luckiest woman alive.” When your eyes connect, you smirk and lean forward. Your tongue pokes out and laps the arousal from his thick mushroom tip. “You taste so good, Sugar.” You swirl it around before you wrap your lips around his cockhead, sucking him into your mouth.

“Oh! Oh! P–please… too– much!” Steve arches, his member sliding deeper into your mouth the more his hips jerk. The pleasure becomes too much as you continue to suck. His hands grip whatever he can, his vision turning white. “Oh, please! Y–you are a goddess!” His eyes connect with yours, causing his balls to tighten as he watches your tongue swirl around his cock, before you slowly make your way down to his heavy sacks. Steve sees his life flash before his eyes as you suck them into your mouth, swirling and rolling your tongue as your hand comes up to stroke his wet cock. Steve felt his thighs clench and unclench as you continued to switch between sucking his soul out through his cock and massaging his balls with your wonderfully talented mouth.

You pull away, hands still working their magic as you stare at him with a sultry look. “Cum for me, Sugar. Let me swallow all of you, milk you dry until you are nothing but a whimpering mess.” With those words and your mouth wrapping itself around his swollen tip again, Steve goes blind, blacking out for a split second as he spills into your mouth, ropes of cum shooting out of him. You clench around nothing as his sweet moans fill the room, fingers tangled in your hair as he loses himself. You pull away, lapping up the rest of his cum and licking your lips. Steve blinks, finally getting his vision back, his chest rapidly moving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. His pretty blues connect with yours as you smirk. A gasp escapes him as you wrap your hand around his hardening cock. “Aren’t you a good boy? Wanna cum deep inside me, Pretty Boy?” His cock twitches and throbs beneath your palm, eyes rolling back as he nods. “Words, Sugar. Be a good boy for me.”

Steve whimpers, “Yes, yes, please! Please, can I cum deep inside you? I’ll be so good, your good boy!” His breath hitches when his gaze lands on your kneeled position. The soft moonlight hitting your skin makes you look eternal. Your smudged red lipstick and tousled hair causes Steve’s heart to beat rapidly in his chest, never having seen someone so beautiful, so flawless in his whole existence. It felt as though he had finally found his missing piece and was ready to give himself over to you: his heart, mind and soul, everything in the entire universe.

You smile, crawling on top of him and positioning his cock at your entrance. “Good boy. My sweet boy.” Yours and Steve’s eyes roll to the back of your head as you sink down, “Oh, my pretty boy. You feel so good stretching me out. You should feel proud of yourself. Especially with this monster between your legs.” A pleasured moan escapes you. Steve’s head is thrown back as he feels you throb and squeeze him. Steve grips your hips, whimpering, and his hips try to jerk up as you refuse to move. “Uh ah, Sugar. What’s the magic word?”

Steve groans as you roll your hips, your nails digging into his chest as you wait for the magic word. “Please, please! I’ll be a good boy. Please just move!” A whimper leaves him as you move, rolling and bouncing, his thick member sliding in and out of you as you ride him. “Oh, s–so good!” He felt his whole world explode, never having experienced pleasure like this before. His hips began to jerk up, unable to control himself as the feel of your warm, heaven-like cunt seduced him into a slobbering mess.

“You feeling alright, Pretty Boy?” You breathe out, slowing down your pace because you enjoy how he begs you to pick up the pace. How he’d whimper as he tried jerking his hips, tried to move your hips desperately, but gives up because he felt so weak. You roll your hips slowly, and your head tilts back when you feel him brushing up against your g-spot. Steve whimpers. Soft pleas escape him.

“O–oh, please move, please. I’ll do anything!” You lean down, bringing him into a deep passionate kiss as you begin to pick up the pace, swallowing the sweet sounds that escape him, bringing the both of you as much pleasure as possible. Your moans fall from your lips and into Steve’s, enjoying how his gifted cock hits all of your sweet spots.

You begin to feel your walls clenching around him, pulsating as you get closer to your climax. “Pretty Boy, cum for me.” You whisper into his ear before moving down and pressing heavy kisses on his neck. Marking him as yours, you moan softly against his flesh as pleasured sounds escape him. His hips stutter, and his hands grip your hips as he buries himself deep inside you. His cock twitches and throbs, balls tightening, his back arches and large ropes of cum shoot out of him, filling you to the brim. Leaving Steve a whimpering mess as you pulsate wildly around him and cum, your arousal leaking out of you, covering the poor man underneath.

As you both come down from your blissful endings, you shakily remove Steve’s softening cock from your sopping cunt and fall beside him, your fingers finding their way to your mouth as you lick the both of you off of them. Your eyes connect with exhausted blue ones that are focused on your arousal-covered fingers. Your hand slowly moves toward his awaiting mouth, gently sliding your fingers inside and connecting eyes as he moans, lapping your juices up like it’s his last meal. “Next time, I’ll let you feast on me, but only if you are a good boy.”

Steve whimpers and his head falls back into the pillow as your fingers slip from his mouth. “I–I’m Steve, by the way….” He stares at you, wondering how you could look even more beautiful. He watches you smile, moving closer to him, and your still-gloved hand strokes his cheek, causing his eyes to flutter closed.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty man.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his plump lips. “I’m Y/n, Sugar, and I’m so glad I found you after all this time. I thought I had lost you.” His eyes slowly open, brows furrowed as he looks at you confused. He feels strangely safe as you stroke his skin. “I’ve been watching you… Ever since I saw you shoot your cute little arrows into my friend and her now fiance and then fly away with your adorable wings. I had always wondered when you’d shoot me and give me my happily ever after.” You stare deep into his eyes as you whisper the next part. “But, now I finally understand… You were always meant to be my happily ever after.”

Steve could feel tears beginning to form, wondering how he had gotten so lucky after all this time of wondering if he was destined to be forever alone. He reaches his hand out and cups your cheek, feeling his heart warm when you lean into his touch, smiling at him. Not being able to find the right words, Steve finds the courage to lean forward and lock his lips with yours, eyes fluttering closed as they move with one another passionately.

You break from the kiss, and a soft whisper leaves you. “My Pretty Boy.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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broodybuck · 30 days

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Title: When Size Matters

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, Shrinkyclinks, pre-serum Steve, post-serum Bucky, recovering Bucky, big dick Barnes, top Bucky, power bottom Steve, size difference, dirty talk, established relationship

[ao3 link]

Since Bucky's been back, he's different. Of course, he is. He was given the super-soldier serum against his will, forced to kill, taken away from the love of his life. But now he's back and he's bigger... literally. The serum enhanced all of him, his body, his muscles, he's even taller now.

And he was always bigger than Steve because Steve has been scrawny his whole life but now with the serum, the difference in their size really shows.

Bucky has never minded how small Steve is, but oddly, he seems to mind how much bigger he is these days. Steve can tell he gets self-conscious about the new space he takes up. Sometimes, it seems like he forgets.

Steve helps him through this the best way he can of course. They work together and eventually crawl back to the relationship they once had. But that happens very, very slowly. They've only kissed since Bucky's been back. But Steve is okay with waiting, he can see how much Bucky is opening up little by little as time goes on and that's what matters most.

Once Bucky is comfortable enough to take his clothes off in front of Steve, the plan is obviously to move on from only kissing. But when that night happens and Steve finally gets to see his boyfriend nude again, well, it takes Steve a moment to take in how big the rest of Bucky is.

The serum truly did have a hand in everything because Bucky's dick is definitely bigger. And has probably doubled in thickness.

Steve actually stares with his mouth open the first time he sees it. For long enough that Bucky gets shy and almost tries to cover himself back up but Steve stops him. Assures him it's the good kind of shock and that they just have to take it slow.

It's the good kind of pain when Steve first gets Bucky's enlarged cock inside of him. And since then, he's learned how to open himself up properly, overly — really loosen up enough so he can ride him right. Since then, it's been glorious. Since then, it's been the best sex of Steve's life.

But over time, it seems like no matter how much Steve is enjoying himself, Bucky still manages to worry constantly.

Bucky often comes to bed a lot later than Steve. He tries to meditate and write in his journal every night. It's supposed to calm him but most nights when he gets into bed and curls up behind Steve, he presses a massive boner into Steve's leg.

At first, Steve joked about it. "Happy to see me?"

But Bucky had sighed.

"It's the serum, I don't know. It does this... a lot more now," he groaned like it was a bad thing.

And even after all the nights Steve has turned right around and kissed him, Bucky still says the same thing — he's still nervous Steve will be annoyed he's hard again.

Steve loves it, is the truth. Even if he can't go as many rounds as Bucky can or last as many hours as Bucky probably could, Steve can still please his man. And he wants to, that's the thing Bucky just doesn't get. The constant fretting that Steve doesn't like it is the problem. And Steve decides to make it his mission to correct that.

The first thing Steve tries is reassurance. But Bucky worries all the same no matter how much Steve dishes out.

The second thing Steve attempts is anticipating Bucky's near-constant horniness and acting first, not giving Bucky a chance to voice his concerns. But he still finds the time to slip them in no matter how rushed Steve is with making a move.

Finally, Steve finds the thing that works and ironically, it's being cocky about it. The honest truth is, Steve is proud to say he's able to take such a big cock. Proud to say he can not only take it, but can handle himself on it — steer the thing. And that's how he learns one night how effective telling Bucky that is.

Steve has learned that claiming, specifically, that he's the only one who can take him is what Bucky really likes. Claiming there's no one else who can do it better. It works not only for Bucky who visibly relaxes when Steve says these things, but also for Steve who finds the thought insanely hot.

"You know, you couldn't fuck anyone else right?" Steve says as he rides Bucky one night. He stills for a moment, sits all the way down, and cups Bucky's face. "You're too big. You know that, right? Only I know how to take you."

Bucky nods, his fingers grip Steve's skin tighter because he wants him to move again. Steve knows how good it feels for him that Steve can take all of him, every inch. He moves again but just a little, just to tease him.

"No one else could handle you, I swear they can't, but I know how to stretch myself enough to make this cock fit."

"Yeah," Bucky breathes raggedly. "Yeah, Stevie. You're perfect for me. You know just how to take me."

That gets Steve going, he loves when Bucky says shit like that. And then he rides him until they both come.

After, while they're still catching their breath, Bucky turns to Steve and kisses his neck in between pants.

"I wasn't sure," Bucky says softly.

"About what?" Steve asks.

"When I came back... like this. I remembered how little you were but then, you seemed even smaller somehow."

"You got bigger, I didn't get any smaller," Steve demands.

He feels Bucky smile against his neck. He kisses under Steve's ear now.

"Right, yeah. Point is, I wasn't sure if you could take me... honestly. I saw my dick and when I thought about trying to fit it inside you— god, well that was the first time I got turned on again."

Steve's skin goes hot. Bucky never told him this.

"First time I thought that I busted in two minutes — jesus."

Steve has to bite back a whimper even though his body's still trying to calm down.

"When?" Steve asks turning to look at him. Bucky sits back a little.

"First night I came home."

"Really? I don't remember—"

"I was in the shower."

"Oh," Steve frowns, already bummed he missed that.

He had no idea Bucky was getting turned on back then. Steve mainly recalls Bucky being silent and very rigid back then. He can hardly picture Bucky jacking off in the bathroom... as hot as it sounds.

"First time you kissed me again, I wanted to fuck you so bad. I was just scared."

"Scared it wouldn't fit," Steve grins.

"Seriously though, you're tiny," Bucky says all too seriously.

"I told you, baby," Steve says and turns on his side to face Bucky fully now. "I'm the only one who can take your cock."

Bucky licks his lips, clearly liking how it sounds even if it is the hundredth time he's hearing it.

"Yeah," he smiles. He leans in and kisses Steve on the lips. "And I'm so fucking glad."

"So, tell me," Steve says. "How was it, when you first put it in me again?"

Bucky closes his eyes like the words alone are too much. "Stevie, come on."

"No, I wanna hear about it. You never told me any of this — not all of it, anyway. So, tell me. How'd you not bust the second you got inside me?" Steve smiles too brightly.

Bucky breathes in slow then opens his eyes again.

"It was a fucking miracle," he laughs. "I think I was still nervous I might be hurting you."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"How many times do I gotta tell you," Steve says and then holds Bucky's face in his hands. "You could never hurt me, Buck."

He lets Bucky go with a kiss and for the first time, it finally looks like Bucky believes him.

#shrinkyclinks #stucky #stucky smut #stucky fic #oneshot #pre serum steve

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

Text

📖"Blood Moon Rising"

Series Masterlist

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: shrinkyclinks, werewolf au, omega Steve, Alpha Bucky, a/b/o, prison au, dub-con, non-con, werewolf sex, knotting, oral (m!rec), hand jobs, held hostage, age gap (40/26), mating, violence, bonding, Dom/sub elements

Summary: Steve gets a lot more than he bargained for when a prison riot breaks out and he becomes the captive of an Alpha werewolf.

Captured by the Alpha

Claimed by the Alpha

Alpha's Hostage

Wolf's Den

Blood Moon Horizon

In Shades of Purple

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

killer

summary: when you meet steve, you don't expect to fall in love, let alone share with him your deepest secret

pairing: pre-serum!steve rogers x vampire!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: honestly pretty soft smut (f receiving oral, unprotected sex, come eating but it's fine), biting (obviously), slightly sub steve, mention of suicidal ideation, me fixing canon bc i can

a/n: this is more plot/feelings than it is filthy smut but i love it anyways. i have 4 other prompts i'm cycling between so i'm hoping to have a couple more done over the course of this week. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed this, every one means a lot to me! (edit to say that while it didn’t inspire the fic, i definitely get killer by phoebe bridgers vibes hence the title)

join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on my fics!

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

You could smell him from blocks away; you always could. It was like every cell in your body was in tune with his. It had been that way since the day you met him.

It was 1943, and you were in charge of taking care of Erskine’s newest candidate. You had seen a handful come and go, all of them eventually proving to be unworthy. But something about Steve Rogers was different. It wasn’t just the pure look of determination on his face the second he stepped into basic training. You could smell the purity rolling off of him in waves. This was a man who was good and true.

Erskine took your word for it; never once in all your years together had you lied to him. Not even when he cornered you in his lab one day - after 30 years of working together - asking why you hadn’t aged a day. You were honest with him, giving the most simple answer: you were a vampire. You had been since long before borders were drawn and humans turned on each other, and you would be until someone drove a stake through your heart. He was deeply interested, asking you questions and seeking the answers to common misconceptions. You were more than happy to share with him. He was one of the very few people you were certain was good.

But Steve Rogers, he really was unlike any person you had ever met before. Sweet, kind, humble. Too humble, in your opinion. The world had beaten him down, and while he would fight tooth and nail for it regardless, he neglected himself and his own worth. You were determined to help him see himself in a new light.

The first time you kissed him, you felt butterflies in your stomach; never in all your centuries had you felt such a thing for anyone. You barely knew him and yet somehow you had known him your whole life.

The first time you fucked him, he melted in your arms. He nearly cried with the overwhelming feeling and worked himself into an asthma attack. You laid with him - the both of you still bare and chilled under the blankets of your cot - rubbing circles into his back until he was calm enough to whisper three little words in your ear. You knew then that if your heart could beat, it would beat for him.

The first time you bit him, you were terrified.

Erskine had finally talked to Steve, told him his plan, and Steve readily agreed. Just as you both knew he would.

The night before, he trembled in your arms, showing you the fear he refused to let anyone else see.

“I know I would die for my country.” He was nothing if not proud of that. “A few months ago, I would have done it without question. Now, all I can think about is you.”

Tears welled in his eyes, as they did in yours. You kissed him softly and sweetly, sitting up with him, moving closer. Just like that, with your foreheads pressed together, you told him your secret.

“I can…I can bite you. Turn you. But I don’t know what effect that will have on the serum. I don’t know what you can survive.”

“I’ll survive anything to be with you.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that you weren’t worth the possibility of the unknown. But you knew your lover, and the look in his eyes spelled nothing but love and determination.

Who were you to deny him anything?

The two of you were still bare, bodies pressed close in the confined space, and so it wasn’t hard to tilt his head to the left, exposing the beautiful, unmarked skin of his neck.

You licked it teasingly, tasting the salt on his skin and the beating of his pulse underneath. He shivered at the touch, and you knew he was both terrified and excited for what possibilities came next.

Breathing in the sweet smell of his blood, your fangs shone in the pale moonlight, and before he could blink, your teeth sank into Steve’s neck.

You moaned low, keeping him held against you for a handful of seconds. But his own moans were a symphony to your ears. He sung like the angels above he so closely resembled, and when you finally pulled back, you realized he had come all over your thigh. When his eyes finally fluttered open, the shallow breaths deeping out, it took him only moments to apologize.

“Oh god I’m so -” You shushed him before he could get the words out, kissing him like your life depended on it. When you pulled away, a streak of blood marred the beautiful pale skin just above his lips, and you ducked your head once more to taste it.

‘“How do you feel, my love?” you asked him, keeping your hands placed on his face so he wouldn’t try to look away from you.

“I liked it.” His whisper was so low you don’t think you would have heard it if not for your enhanced senses. “I want you to do it again.”

Your brow furrowed. “You only need one bite to turn.”

“I know that, but… I want more.” He swallowed hard, struggling to meet your eyes. “I just want more.”

You nodded knowingly. The thrill of a bite could be exhilarating. Erotic. That didn’t stop you from worrying about him.

“Steve…”

“Please, just give me this.”

And who were you to deny him anything?

Staring deep into his eyes, you caved and nodded. He tilted his neck again, but you took him by surprise when you pushed him down on his back and sunk your teeth into the slight swell of his chest.

He moaned deeply, and you could feel his hardness against you again. In a split second, you were straddling him, rubbing your folds against his length, both of your moans trying to contain themselves to the canvas of the tent around you.

You sunk down onto him slowly - despite his slight stature, Steve Rogers was not small everywhere - until your pelvis was flush against his own and his hands gripped your hips so hard you were afraid the bones might shatter.

When you leaned down to kiss him, you nipped at his bottom lip as you pulled back, drawing the smallest drops of blood.

You started to ride him slowly, rolling your hips to get you both used to the feeling - Steve had gotten better about his breathing in the handful of times you had made love, but you were always so scared after that first time that you couldn’t help but start out easy.

After only a handful of minutes, your movements started to quicken and so did your mouth, Where before you had subdued yourself to playful nips, once he sunk deep into you, you allowed yourself to release some control.

Every slide down of your walls around his cock were enunciated with a bite along Steve’s soft skin. By the time you gained the strength to thrust up into you, he was covered in double crescent moon shapes.

When you clenched around him, close to reaching your peak, you tilted his head to the right and left a twin mark on his neck. His sweet taste pushed you over the edge, and you came with him following right behind you.

And, oh, wasn’t that fantastic. He had never finished inside of you before, always afraid of - on the slight chance he wasn’t infertile - that the two of you would try to bring a baby into a world so unknown. But with that risk gone, you were euphoric with the feel of him coating your walls.

For a few more minutes, you stayed laying on top of him, giving kitten licks to any bites that were still bleeding. When you finally rolled off of him, you expected to feel around for a rag to clean the two of you up, but Steve surprised you by gently pushing you onto your back.

Timidly, he placed tender kisses down your body before settling between your thighs. He looked up at you, eyes boring into your own, and lowered himself to your core.

His tongue swept through your folds, nipping lightly at your clit, and he moaned into you at the taste of himself. He brought both hands - large, gorgeous, artist hands - and spread your lips even more, almost ravenous with the way he swirled his tongue through your mixed releases.

With a harsh suck of your clit, you were falling over the edge again, and he lapped up every drop of you until there was none left.

He crawled up your body again, clearly exhausted, and curled into your side. He whispered a sweet goodnight to you, and was out almost immediately.

You stayed up all night, counting his breaths and making sure his heart continued to beat.

The next morning, Erskine took one look at the marks that could be seen through Steve’s white t-shirt, and ordered everyone but you and Howard Stark - whom Erskine insisted could be trusted with your secret - from the room. The three of you watched as Steve stripped his shirt and stepped into the Vita-Ray Chamber. Your eyes took into the sporadic bite marks across his body, and small smile tugged at your lips despite the pure terror that coursed through your body.

You trusted Erskine’s mind, of course you did, but this was Steve and the thought of something happening to him drove you to pure rage.

Nevertheless, the Chamber closed around him, and the room went silent except for the machine at work.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Chamber opened and through the steam… someone emerged.

He had the same face as your Stevie, but other than that he was like a stranger. Tall and muscled, though he had the same smooth, freckled skin. Skin that no longer wore your marks.

It was a strike to your heart, at first, but a second glance at him spelled one thing: he was healthy.

You couldn’t smell the sickness of his youth anymore, only the scent of a strong man, young and healthy. Still, underneath it all, was the smell of purity that was his and his alone.

He stepped out and his eyes immediately sought you out. And you knew then, even if he was no longer marked by you, he would still be forever yours.

It had been 66 years since you smelled Steve’s sweet scent. He told he loved you one last time before he crashed into the Atlantic and took your unbeaten heart with him to the bottom.

Unable to end your own life, you dedicated every year after to hunting HYDRA. You knew his sacrifice was not the end of their reign, and you tore them down brick by brick. You hoped the end of it was when you ripped Arnim Zola limb from limb and nearly did the same to Peggy Carter for trying to work with him.

You spent the rest of your time with Howard Stark, assisting him in his experiments and even befriending his son from a young age. You helped Tony through his parents’ deaths. A freak car accident, they said - which sounded suspicious to you at first, but after several years of digging into every possible avenue, it truly had just come down to bad brakes and an unlit road. Tony thanked you profusely, his guilt nearly overcoming him at the news because of his rocky relationship with his father, and he offered you his gratitude for making sure he knew the truth.

His gratitude was the reason he called you as soon as he heard the news about Steve at SHIELD.

Steve, your lost love. Steve, the man you thought couldn’t possibly survive almost 70 years buried in ice despite whatever mixture of venom and serum swam through his veins. Steve, who was alive and only a plane ride away.

Suddenly, you were on a sidewalk outside a brownstone in Brooklyn. The kind of place he had told you he dreamed of having on nights when he was especially homesick.

Suddenly, you could inhale and smell the scent of Steve again.

Suddenly, you were knocking on the door, afraid and thrilled of what might come next.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @sophiejay @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader

#steve rogers #steve fic #steve smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #pre serum steve #pre serum!steve rogers x reader #pres serum!steve rogers #ww2 steve rogers #vampire!reader #steve rogers x vampire!reader #kinktober 22 #tiff's kinktober #tiff writes #killer

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hazel-wand · 2 years

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Stucky Fic: Target Meet Cute

Back in June, @fsbc-librarian posted a prompt about a little girl in Target whose dad tries to get her to wear a dress, and she yells “no I’m GAY, I CAN’T” and the dad sighs and says, “No, you’re not gay. I’m gay. You’re five.”

Here’s my version of the story.

Target Meet Cute

Steve has no idea what possessed him to go shopping at 5pm on a Friday. Actually, he does know. Mrs. Lawrence's commission - a project he's been dreading and whose deadline is looming - finally sucked him in on Monday, and he's been caught in a tunnel of frantic creation for the last five days. When he finished this afternoon, he realised that he was covered in cerulean blue paint, that he hadn't eaten since breakfast on Thursday and that he was out of food.

So now he's in Target and is still covered in paint.

Steve may be the kind of guy who spends almost a hundred hours over five days on a painting, but he's otherwise a practical sort. While he is tempted to order a large pizza and then sleep for twelve hours, instead he’s in Target because a) it's not Walmart and b) it has all the other things he was meant to pick up over the course of the week he's just spent with Mrs. Lawrence's canvas. He not only needs food, but also gift wrap for Sam and Natasha's wedding present (a painting which he finished back when he was avoiding the Lawrence commission) and a new shirt to go under the suit that Sam is making him wear to the wedding. Which is tomorrow.

He's got a roll of the grossest paper he could find (pink hearts, love birds and kissing couples because he knows Nat will enjoy hating it) in his cart, and is heading towards the clothing section, when a little girl almost skids into him.

She has flyaway dark hair framing her face in a tangled cloud (Steve is pretty sure he has paint in his, so no judgment there), and a mulish expression. She's wearing rainbow striped leggings and a black t-shirt featuring a leather-clad Panda with a mohawk. Steve smiles to himself as he acknowledges that he would happily wear her whole outfit. He only has moments to take the kid in, though. She darts out of his way, towards an aisle covered in pink and blue baby clothes. Steve looks around for her parents - she's way too young to be on her own - but relaxes when he sees a guy with the same dark hair emerge from the kids' clothing section and scan the aisles.

Steve takes a second look and promptly tenses up again, because shit the guy is beautiful. He's got broad shoulders and his biceps are defined even through his long-sleeved red henley. He's wearing jeans, stretched enticingly over thick thighs. His dark hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun on top of his head, held up with a hot pink scrunchie. He's got the kind of chin divot that Steve wants to press his thumb to, and a generous-looking mouth that Steve wants to do other, less stranger-in-Target-appropriate things to.

The guy's eyes are narrowed, but his shoulders relax once he spots the girl. Steve follows his gaze and almost laughs at the expression on the little girl's face. Her dark brows press together like angry caterpillars, and her chin juts out in a way that makes Steve want to write his mom an apology letter. He's pretty sure she saw that face on him an awful lot. His stomach clenches with the familiar pain of loss. It’s been almost ten years since she died.

"Ruthie," the guy sighs, marching over there and picking up the little girl. And, yep, Steve's ma may not have been a six foot hottie like this man, but she sure as hell used that 'give me patience before I scream' tone of voice with Steve a time or two. It's the voice, as well as the girl's eye roll when the guy grabs her, that make Steve sure that this is her dad and that the little girl is safe.

He shoots her a commiserating look as he pushes his cart onwards again.

The girl - Ruthie- catches his eye, and whether prompted by an audience or the idea that Steve might be a kindred spirit, decides to start giving her dad a hard time.

"But I don't want that dress, Daddy!" she howls.

Steve doesn't, absolutely doesn't, listen for the guy's voice as he wheels his shopping cart past.

"Sweetie, you have to wear one," the dad is saying. His voice is low and warm with a hint of Brooklyn. "You got to have a dress for Natasha’s wedding, remember?"

"But Daddeeeeey," the girl whines, and Steve thinks this guy is going to have a hell of a time when the teenage years hit. "Daddy, I can't wear a dress. I'm gay!"

Steve tries to be a good person, honestly he does. He helps his elderly neighbors and volunteers at a shelter and donates money when he can, but he is not a good enough person to keep walking. He manages not to turn around and gawk, and instead pretends to be interested in a nearby jewelry rack.

Behind him, he hears the guy sigh the kind of sigh of someone who is counting to ten in their head. Steve knows this sigh too. Sam uses it a lot, usually when talking to Steve.

"No, honey, you're not gay," the guy says. Steve might be a little bit in love with his voice: soft and calm, not whispered or hissed. No hint of embarrassment. "I'm gay. You're five."

Steve can't help it: he barks out a laugh. And then, having drawn attention to himself, feels honor bound to turn round and face the guy.

The man has looked up from his daughter at the sound of Steve's laughter. Steve meets his eye and gives what he hopes is a sympathetic smile. At least he probably seems unthreatening enough with his accidental hipster twink aesthetic: skinny and short with his black-framed glasses and blue-painted hair.

The guy looks back at his daughter, and for some reason Steve doesn't move away, even though he knows he should. Maybe it's because this dad is sweet and gentle and announces his sexuality in the middle of the shop as matter of factly as if he were telling the time. He looks big and calm and soft - so different to Steve's small and sharp and spiky.

"No matter who you end up loving," the dad says to the little girl, "you can wear what makes you feel good. But don't you remember how excited you were to pick out a dress? I think you'll be sad if Natasha is wearing a beautiful dress at her wedding and you're not."

The little girl frowns. "Natty said her dress will twirl when she dances."

"You bet it will," the dad says. "And there's going to be lots of dancing."

"I want a dress that twirls too," the girl says.

"Well that's what I thought," her dad replies. "And then you and Natasha can twirl together."

"And you. And Sam," the girl adds.

The guy hoists her up onto his hip. "That's right," he says, pressing his cheek briefly against hers. "And then we can all twirl together."

Steve hasn't ever considered that he has a type. In fact, he's prided himself on the fact that he doesn’t. He's always been attracted to personalities more than anything else, and although he can appreciate a beautiful man or woman, he's never pinned down a certain set of features that particularly attract him.

But this, this strong guy with his daughter in his arms talking about twirling together, this is something Steve never thought about wanting and suddenly it's all he wants. Of course, this guy is probably happily in a relationship and is almost definitely not interested in Steve's signature style of short, stubborn and asthmatic, but the pull of want in Steve's chest is so strong that he actually takes a step forward.

"Hey," he says, and the guy and girl both look back at him with matching blue-grey eyes that make Steve's stomach swoop again, but then luckily his brain catches up with his mouth and he realises he does have something to say. "Sorry to interrupt, but you're talking about Sam and Natasha's wedding tomorrow, right?"

The man grips his daughter tighter. "Yeah, buddy, you know Nat and Sam?"

Steve feels his cheeks burning pink, but barrels on. "I'm Steve - I'm Sam's best man."

The guy's eyes go wide. "Oh wow, you're Sam's Steve. I've heard a lot about you."

His eyes travel up and down Steve's body in a way that makes Steve feel that his physical self is not what the guy expected. He feels the familiar flicker of embarrassment and irritation, and crosses his arms.

The guy must notice the change in Steve's body language, because he frowns slightly and holds up a hand. "No, Sam's had a lot to say about his friend Steve, but he never told me, uh. Huh." There's a pink blush on the guy's cheeks. He licks his lips, eyes still on Steve, and Steve suddenly wonders what the hell Sam's been saying about him.

"Daddy," comes a disapproving voice, "are you flirting?"

"What?!" the guy says. His cheeks are definitely red now, and he takes a step back; although, as he's still clutching his daughter, he doesn't move away from the little girl's accusing gaze. "No," he says, half to her and half to Steve. "No, of course I wasn't flirting."

The girl wiggles out of her dad's arms. "Natty says you should do more flirting," she says. She looks hard at Steve.

The dad looks like he'd like to disappear. For all that he was happy to announce his sexuality to anyone within earshot, he seems to be horrified at the turn the conversation has taken. He looks over at Steve. "I'm so sorry," he says.

Steve smiles at them both. "Don't worry about it," he says. He has the mad compulsion to say that he wouldn't mind being flirted with, and has to wrap up the conversation and get away before he blurts out anything stupid. After all, he still doesn't know if this guy is single, and what the hell Sam and Nat have told him about Steve. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," he says.

"Bucky," the guy says in a rush. "I mean, that's my name. I'm Bucky."

He trails off in a way that suggests he'd like the floor to open up and swallow him, and Steve has to literally remind himself not to step forward and pull this poor guy - who is also a total stranger - into a hug.

"And I'm Ruth," the girl says. Steve is grateful to turn his eyes away from Bucky's red cheeks. He gives Ruth a smile.

"I hope you find a really good twirly dress, Ruth," Steve says. "I'll see you both tomorrow," and then in a supreme show of poise, he manages to turn and walk away.

He makes it round the corner before he pulls out his phone.

"Sam," he hisses, as soon as Sam picks up. "Who the hell is Bucky? And what have you been telling him about me?"

The next day, Steve's not too worried about his best man duties. Sam definitely won't get cold feet (mostly because Natasha is wonderful and Sam adores her, and only a little because Natasha would kill him if he did). The rings are safe in his inner pocket, his hair is free of paint and Steve's best man speech is pretty good, though he says so himself.

What he’s worried about is the fact that he can’t look away from Bucky Barnes.

Bucky - who, Steve now knows, is actually called James, as in Nat’s friend James from Juilliard - is sitting at the piano as the guests file into the wedding venue. Steve remembers Nat telling him that her friend James would play during the ceremony. Steve had vaguely thought that sounded nice.

Nice isn’t the word for the crisis that is happening to Steve now as he listens to Bucky play. Steve couldn’t tell you what the music is, or why it’s making him feel like his heart is suddenly too large for his (admittedly scrawny) chest, only that Bucky’s playing holds that same all-encompassing beauty that Natasha has when she’s dancing. It feels like Bucky is playing only for himself, and that Steve, the listener, is caught in its spell, unable to look away.

And now that Steve knows who Bucky is, he also knows from Nat’s stories that Bucky is the guy who kept feeding the stray cats until so many came that someone called the shelter. He knows that Bucky used to accompany Nat in her ballet rehearsals and recitals. He knows that Nat worried about him after college, when they lost touch, and knows how happy she was when Bucky started bringing Ruth to Nat’s toddler ballet class.

He now knows how patient Bucky is with his daughter, how cute he looks when he’s embarrassed, and how hot he looks in a suit. Steve’s glad he first met Bucky looking disheveled and wearing a hot pink scrunchie, because in his wedding finery he’s so beautiful that it’s frankly intimidating.

All this should not be enough to make him feel that panicky, inevitable sensation that Steve equates with falling for someone too hard and too fast, but there it is. Steve knows he’s got an impulsive heart. He’d fallen for Peggy the first time he’d seen her punch a guy, after all. And look where that had got him.

The room is slowly filling up with guests. Steve spots Ruth walk in with Tony, Pepper and Morgan. Morgan is demure in pale blue frills. Ruth, on the other hand, is wearing a dress so pink it makes Steve’s eyes water. The skirt is made of layers of tulle, and Ruthie resembles nothing so much as a cupcake on legs. She waves wildly to Bucky, and then to Sam and Steve, before sitting down next to Morgan.

As though magnetised, Steve’s eyes are drawn back to Bucky. He can see now that Bucky and Ruth have their long dark hair braided in matching styles, and the pair of them are so adorable that it makes Steve feel physically weak.

Sam jabs his arms into Steve's ribs.

“You okay, man? You look like you need to sit.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m good, Sam.”

Sam gives him a hard look. “You sure? You know I care about you, but if you collapse during my wedding because you haven’t slept in a week, I am going to be pissed.”

“Hey.” Steve feels mildly indignant, both at the implication that he would turn up to Sam’s wedding on no sleep, and that he apparently looks like shit. “I’m good, Sam, and I’m hurt you don’t think I look it.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, dude, you know you’re pretty.”

The word pretty makes Steve look helplessly back over at Bucky, at the way he worries his bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers fly over the keys.

Sam clearly follows Steve’s gaze, because he lets out a laugh.

“Oh, now I get it. You’re not sick. You’re love sick.”

Steve has sharp elbows, and uses them with impunity. “I am not love sick,” he hisses, while Sam wheezes next to him. “I only met the guy yesterday.”

“Exactly. You only met him yesterday. You gotta cool it with the heart-eyes, Steve. You're embarrassing yourself.”

Steve jabs him again, more gently this time. “You telling me you won't be making heart-eyes at Natasha when she walks in?”

Sam smiles, big and wide. “You know I will. But it's my wedding day. I've earned some heart-eyes.”

Sam definitely has heart eyes when Bucky plays the wedding march and Natasha walks down the aisle in her dress. Steve helped Natasha pick it, so he knows what she looks like in it, but today she looks ethereal, for once unguarded and blindingly happy. Steve has never been the type to cry at weddings, but he feels a tightness in the back of his throat all the same. Sam is sniffing a little beside him, and Steve absolutely means to rib him for it later, so he looks away from Natasha before his own eyes can start watering and he loses the upper hand.

After the ceremony, they spill out into the park for photos. Steve, as best man, has to stand through too many poses and gritted smiles - he's never liked having his photo taken, but once that's over he's free to mill about and talk to the other guests.

Natasha and Sam are taking photos with whoever wants one now, and Steve's talking to Nat’s colleague Maria when he sees Ruth launch herself at Natasha for a photo. He bets the picture comes out beautifully: Natasha and Ruth spinning in their twirly dresses, Sam and Bucky grinning at them from either side. Part of Steve wants a pencil - wants to be able to capture that joyful, lovely moment. And another part of him, one that had been dormant since Peggy left, uncoiled in his chest and wanted to be over there, spinning with them.

“Am I that boring?” Maria asks, and Steve realises his attention’s been off her for the last thirty seconds. He snaps back. There's a smile in Maria’s voice that means she's not mad. She and Nat have worked together for years, and Steve knows her pretty well.

“Sorry,” he says. “It’s just…” He gestures to where Bucky is now twirling Ruth for the camera. Maria follows his gaze.

“Ah,” she says. “Natasha finally did it, then.”

“Did what?” Steve asks, and Maria immediately rocks back on her high heels.

“Oh, nothing,” she says quickly. She waggles her empty champagne glass. “I'm just gonna…” she says, and then marches away into the crowd.

Steve frowns after her for a moment. Clearly Natasha's been scheming, which is pretty much her default state, and as her schemes have won Steve some commissions in the past, he can't complain too much. But the thought of there being some kind of grand plan that somehow involves him and Bucky makes him uneasy. As he watches, Steve sees Clint, who for reasons known only to himself has brought his one -eyed dog as his plus one, greet Bucky with a clap on the shoulder. The two of them fall into conversation, while Ruth pets Lucky.

Clearly everyone knows Bucky except him.

And maybe Steve knows why that is. He thinks back to the conversation he’d had with Sam the day before.

“What did you tell him about me?” Steve had demanded. “The poor guy looked at me like he was expecting me to have two heads.”

“The thing is, most of my ‘my friend Steve’ stories end with you punching someone or getting arrested. Or both,” Sam had said.

“I've only been arrested three times,” Steve had contested hotly. “And I’ve never been charged with anything.”

Sam had laughed for a long time at that. “Exactly, man. I've got three different ‘my buddy Steve got arrested’ stories, plus that time when you punched a crocodile.”

Put like that, Steve really doesn’t sound like the kind of guy you’d introduce to someone with a young kid.

“So, you met James,” Nat says during dinner. She and Steve are at the top table, looking out on rest of the wedding guests. Steve glances over to where Bucky is talking to Thor.

“Only briefly,” he says. “He seems nice.”

Natasha laughs. “He's very nice, Steve. Very single, too.”

There’s a shout of laughter from Bucky’s direction. Thor is pounding the table and Bucky and Tony are giggling. Steve catches Ruth and Morgan pulling faces at each other.

“Any reason why our friends all know him except me?” he asks. There’s an edge of hurt in his voice that he didn’t mean to let out. That ever-present prickle under his skin of being too small, too sickly. Wrong somehow.

Natasha shrugs. “Morgan and Ruthie hit it off at ballet. Jane wanted someone to play at her mom’s birthday party. Clint has a dog and kids like dogs.”

Steve can’t help but let his lips twitch into a smile. Natasha is a fixer, and of course she’d been setting Bucky up with people who could help him.

“Ah, so I didn’t have a reason to meet him.”

Natasha smiles back at him. “Not then. Neither of you were ready to meet each other. You were mooning over Peggy, and James wasn’t in a good place for a long time.”

Steve frowns. “So you wanted to set us up?”

Nat looks over the room at her assembled guests. “Weddings are a good place to meet a new partner,” she says. Then she adds, almost fiercely, “You are two of the best people I know. I think you’d make each other happy.”

It’s not until after speeches, cake and more champagne that Steve finally goes over to talk to Bucky, two glasses clutched in his hands. Bucky’s collapsed in a chair on the side of the dancefloor. He’s taken off his jacket and has his shirt sleeves rolled up. Ruth and Morgan are dancing nearby with both Clint and Lucky.

“Hi,” Steve says, handing over a drink.

“Hi,” Bucky says. “That was a good speech.”

“Thanks.” Steve looks out over the dancefloor at Ruth, twirling yet again in her puffy dress. “I see Target came through for you in the end. Very twirly.”

Bucky laughs. “She's such a little firebrand,” he says, his voice fond. “I'm, uh, sorry about being so awkward yesterday.”

“You weren't awkward,” Steve tells him. And then, because he hates lying, adds, “I mean, you were, but it was pretty cute.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I just - I wasn't prepared to meet you.”

“Really?” Steve makes a face. “I'm not very impressive. You don't got to worry about meeting me.” He wishes Natasha had just introduced them earlier. Maybe he didn’t have anything Bucky might need, but he could have been a friend.

Bucky turns to Steve. “Dude, here's what I know about you. You're a crazy talented artist, you stick up for anyone in trouble even if it means taking a beating, you’re the only reason Sam made it through college, and you once punched a crocodile.”

“It was a stuffed crocodile!” Steve protests. “It was really dark, and in my defence I can't see too much without my glasses.”

Bucky's laugh is warm and close and sends little shivers up Steve's spine. “I'm going to kill Sam,” Steve mutters.

“I'm just saying you're impressive!” Bucky says, still giggling. “Meeting you was like being faced with a superhero.”

Steve snorts. “Hotpants and a cape aren’t really my style.” He means it as a joke, of course, to try and wave off the compliment that makes the part of him that is still anxious and scrawny and sixteen (as opposed to the rest of him that is still pretty anxious, still pretty scrawny and thirty) squirm uneasily.

Bucky’s eyes drop down and then back up to Steve’s face.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “I think you could pull it off.”

They’re on their second glasses of champagne when Ruth and Morgan charge over to them, pink-cheeked and wild-eyed. Ruth launches herself at Bucky.

“Oof,” he says, his arms coming round her. “Are you getting tired, baby?”

She shakes her head. “No, Daddy,” she says. “I want to dance!”

Morgan grabs Steve. Her hands are sticky. “Come on, Steve,” she says. “Dance with us!”

Steve allows himself to be tugged to his feet. He’s learnt that Morgan has her mother’s persuasiveness and her father’s stubbornness and, as she isn’t his kid, it’s just easier to do as she says. Bucky and Ruth follow them to a space on the dancefloor, Ruth standing on Bucky’s feet to dance with him like they’re in a cliched film scene. Morgan’s style of dancing is more frenzied jumping, which is at least a dance which Steve can do. There’s something freeing in flailing about and being absolutely stupid. He grins down at Morgan, then at Bucky and Ruth. By the time they’re done his chest is pounding and his cheeks hurt.

They get the girls a drink. “Sip slowly,” Bucky tells them. He talks in a low, slow voice. Talks about the wedding, and how much fun they all had, and how it’ll be time to go home soon. Within minutes, Ruth is drooping over Bucky’s lap like a wilted flower, and Pepper comes to scoop up a heavy-eyed Morgan.

Steve blinks at Bucky. “That was magic,” he says.

Bucky smooths Ruth’s hair off her forehead. “Once she’s this tired, it’s just a question of getting her still enough to fall asleep.”

Despite the noise of the music and laughter from the dancefloor, it feels quiet, sitting with Bucky and Ruth. Like they’re in a little bubble of their own. It reminds Steve of how he felt when Bucky played the piano.

“Your playing was beautiful, earlier,” he says.

Bucky gives him an easy smile. “Thanks.”

Steve shakes his head, annoyed by the vagueness of his compliment. “No, I mean, I normally don’t care about music that much, but the way you played, it really moved me. It felt like how I feel when I’m painting something good.”

Bucky smiles again, softer this time. “Thank you.”

“Do you do a lot of performances?”

“No.” Bucky looks down at Ruth on his lap, her face wiped clear in sleep. “I used to. I was a concert pianist before I got married. Now I teach piano. It’s easier to work around Ruth.”

Steve remembers when he first met Nat. She’d had an injury that meant the end of her professional career and was setting up her own studio instead. He’d been painting walls and scenery for theaters, desperate to make it as an artist, but having to do what he could to make ends meet, not knowing if he’d be able to do what he loved as a career. They’d bonded over balancing passion and practicality.

“Do you miss it?” he asks.

Bucky lets out a long breath. “Well, yeah, of course. But Pepper keeps hiring me for events, and I’m doing a concert at Nat’s studio soon, so I still get to play for people. When I left Alex, I made the choice to put Ruth first, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re a good father,” Steve says. Then grimaces. “Not that I know much about dads. I never knew mine. But what you said in the shop yesterday ..” he swallows. “I think she’s lucky to have you.”

Bucky looks down at Ruth. “I’m all she’s got. Her other dad - well, he’s not her dad at all.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Steve says. “Not unless you want to.”

“Yeah, ok. Another time, perhaps.” Bucky looks over at him. “Tell me if I’ve got this wrong, but, would you like to - maybe. Coffee?” His face flames red. “Holy shit,” he says, half-laughing. “I’m so sorry, that was -”

“Yes,” says Steve. He’s laughing too, sitting with this beautiful man and his daughter, safe in their little bubble of quiet, alone among the throngs of wedding guests. “Yes please. Maybe coffee.”

“Punk.” Bucky grins at him, and Steve laughs more.

There’s lots to learn. About Ruth and Bucky and the man who didn’t want them, and how Bucky clawed back a life for them both. About how Steve can learn to swallow down that prickly feeling of not being enough.

‘Maybe coffee’ turns into ‘definitely dinner’. Steve falls in love fast, but they take it slow, as midday dates during school hours become Friday pizza nights and lazy Saturday mornings watching cartoons in their pyjamas.

Until, a year later …

Once again, Steve is browsing the aisles of Target with paint in his hair. Sunshine yellow, this time, from painting a gender neutral nursery for Sam and Nat’s baby. He's planning to make the baby an illustrated name sign once they're born and named, but the baby shower is tomorrow and Ruth was adamant that she should pick out a present. So far, Bucky has pointed out useful stuff a baby needs, and Ruthie has pointed out things she would like, but which are entirely unsuitable for a baby.

“Ruth, the baby could choke on all those small pieces,” Bucky tells her. Plus, even Steve knows that the baby isn't going to care about My Little Pony jewelry for a good long time. In fact, he thinks, frowning at the lurid pink plastic, it's the kind of rubbish that most people should only care about not having in their house.

On the other hand, he's already cleared it with Bucky to buy Ruth a My Little Pony hairdressing kit for Christmas. And then it will be in his - or rather, their - house.

He reaches for Bucky’s hand and tugs him to a stop. Bucky gives him a questioning little look, and Steve smiles up at him. “I’m just really happy,” he says.

Bucky smiles too, big and bright and God, Steve loves him. “Me too,” he says, and leans over to kiss him.

When they break away, Ruth has scampered off to the next aisle. By the time they reach her, she’s clutching a cuddly toy in each hand. Steve checks them over. No small parts.

“Perfect,” he says. “Which one shall we get for the baby?”

Ruth clenches her fists tightly around the toys. “I want both of them,” she says. Her chin is beginning to jut out in a sign that she’s prepared to put up a fight.

Steve really wishes he could send his mom that apology letter.

“Sweetie, we’re going to pick one,” he says. Beside him, he can just see Bucky smirking. Clearly he’s going to let Steve have this battle. Ruthie’s not like Morgan: he can’t give in to whatever she wants. Not when she’s his kid.

“I want both,” Ruth pouts.

Steve takes a breath and gathers his patience. He crouches down. “I know sometimes it’s hard to make a choice,” he says to her, “but we can only get one of them. Do you know which one you want to choose?”

“But Steeeeeve,” Ruth wails. “I can't choose. I'm bisexual.”

Steve feels, rather than sees, Bucky dissolve into silent hysterics. Steve himself has to bite back his first instinct, which is to laugh, and his second instinct, which is to explain that bisexuality has nothing to do with indecisiveness. Now isn’t the time for either.

He briefly looks up at Bucky, whose shoulders are shaking and whose eyes are shining and who showed him, over a year ago now, just how to handle this situation. He looks back at Ruth.

“No, sweetheart. You're not bisexual. I’m bisexual. You’re six.”

#stucky #stucky fic #hazel writes fic #or maybe she does #it's too late and I can't tell anymore #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #pre serum steve #steve/bucky

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mandyyvibes · 6 months

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“Can I try something?”

“Depends what it is,” Bucky answered, but he was pretty sure he already knew.

brought to you by gold rush by taylor swift and chris evan’s ethereal eyes

#marvel #stucky #stucky smut #stucky fic #prewar stucky #ao3 #marvel fic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #pre serum steve #pre serum bucky

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vilentia · 1 year

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A romantic relationship with Steve Rogers from the 1940s (pre-serum)

Steve and you meet when you're both volunteering at the same charity event.

Steve is immediately taken with your intelligence and kindness.

You are impressed with Steve's selflessness and willingness to help others.

You start seeing each other more often, attending local events and going on walks.

Steve is very traditional in his approach to courtship and wants to take things slow.

He is hesitant to make any moves, but you are patient and understanding.

You start spending more time alone together, often sharing meals and talking about your interests and values.

Steve is drawn to your strong sense of morality and commitment to doing what's right.

You are fascinated by Steve's independent spirit and passion for social justice.

You start to develop a deep emotional connection, based on mutual respect and understanding.

Steve becomes more comfortable around you and starts opening up about his past.

You listen with empathy and offer a supportive presence.

You share your dreams for the future, with Steve expressing a desire to make a difference in the world.

You encourage Steve to pursue his goals, offering to help in any way you can.

You share your first kiss on a quiet evening, sitting on a park bench under the stars.

Steve is a romantic at heart and often surprises you with small gestures, like bringing you flowers or leaving you notes.

You are touched by Steve's thoughtfulness and reciprocate by making him baked goods and other treats.

You have your first argument when Steve insists on paying for all your dates, despite your insistence on splitting the bill.

You challenge Steve's traditional views on gender roles and you have a productive conversation about your differing perspectives.

You come to a compromise, with Steve still wanting to show his appreciation but being more open to your desire for equality.

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n4dalanda · 4 months

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Kiss you || 40s!Steve Rogers

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pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

summary: when in need, you turn to your best friends, right? what happens when boyfriend troubles force you into the arms of your sweet best friend, Steve Rogers, who just so happens to be head over heels for you?

warnings: toxic boyfriend, hurt and comfort, cheating? this is unedited!!

Steve wouldn’t say he hated a lot of people except for the obvious ones, like Adolf Hitler himself. But this time, he really did hate somebody with more hate than he even knew that he had in his small body.

It had only been a month since you’d started dating your current boyfriend, Louis, amonth too long in your best friend Steve’s mind. He wouldn’t tell you that though. Despite Bucky’s many attempts at convincing Steve to just confess his undying love for you, the little guy wouldn’t budge. So there he was, sat at home on his ass whilst you were out with the guy that he hated so much, dancing until your feet were sore.

Steve knew that you loved to dance, and god, how he wanted to be the one you danced with. But he knew better than anyone that a girl like you would never dance with a guy like him. How could you? You were the most gorgeous girl in town.

But what Steve didn’t know was that you were having a lousy time without him.

After maybe one or two dances, Louis had spotted some old school friends and encouraged you to join him at their table, so you did. For two hours straight, you’d sat there politely waiting for somebody to notice your presence other than the occasional look at you to check that you were laughing along to their unfunny jokes. Of course, you smiled and fake laughed as much as you could until you finally gave in, tugging at Louis sleeve and asking for him to take you home.

Once you’d caught his attention, he excused the both of you from the table, practically dragging your arm off as he headed towards the back door of the bar.

The door swung open with a clatter against the soggy stone wall, that was when you realised that it was pouring with rain outside.

“What was your problem in there, huh?” The man you called your boyfriend asked in a cutting tone.

You frowned. “My problem? What do you mean?”

You shifted on your feet awkwardly as you awaited his response. You listened keenly as he scoffed. “You barely spoke a word to them! What, are they not good enough for you?”

For some reason, he and had immediately pegged you as some kind of snob, which you weren’t. He said it was because pretty girls had some sort of ‘ego’. You felt frustration rise within you, but due to how tired you’d become in the heat of the bar, you couldn’t help but allow tears to prick in your eyes at his accusation.

“You know I don’t think that, Lou!” You said desperately, but he only looked at you closely, waiting for some kind of explanation or reaction. “I just… Want to go home.”

You couldn’t come up with an explanation as to why you wanted to leave, or at least not one that you could tell Louis. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you really were a snob.

“And what does that have to do with me?” He had the audacity to ask.

You stood, dumbfounded in the rain. “Because you were my ride here and it’s pouring with rain!”

Louis shrugged, maybe it was the alcohol he’d drank prior or maybe he’d always been an asshole, you couldn’t tell. “If you’re so adamant on going home then you can find your own way.” In that moment, you could have slapped him in the face, but when he came only the slightest bit closer, you froze. “Unless you wanted to give me something in return for the ride?”

His grin struck something deep inside you as it was inches away from your face. Without thinking, your arm swung back and struck him around the face. Hard.

The drunken man lost his balance, so you took the opportunity to turn on your heel and rush out further into the pouring rain. Without you even knowing, your feet began to take you in the opposite direction of your house, instead, leading you further and further from the bar and closer to your best friend’s house. You knew that if you were with Steve, you’d feel safe. Though he may not have been able to physically protect you, you knew that his company alone could resolve your issues and struggles.

You didn’t look back to check on Louis, you were too far from the bar to even think of doing so. But even if you didn’t look, you still made sure to walk as fast as you could through the streets of Brooklyn. The last thing you wanted then was to get caught up to by your failed date.

It was fortunate that you knew your way to Steve’s house so well, because you got there quicker than you imagined you would. It only took a frantic knock at his door and it swung open, revealing his tired-looking face. Immediately, it brightened upon seeing you though it was only momentarily since he took in your soaked dress and teary eyes.

Without saying a word, he took a hold of your hand and lead you into the warmth of his home.

He told you to sit on his couch whilst he grabbed some of your things from his spare room which you’d pretty much claimed as your own. You could vaguely hear the hum of the radio talking about some kind of baseball or football game, you couldn’t quite tell. You just shivered miserably on the plush material of his couch, wishing that you’d grabbed your coat.

As if on queue, Steve had reappeared with a clean towel and a thick blanket from his boiler room, meaning that it was nice and warm. He was quick to tuck it gently over your shoulders and hand you the towel to rid your hair of the rain water hanging from the strands. You began to wring your hair while Steve sat beside you and observed you carefully.

“God, you’re soaked Sweetheart. Didn’t Louis give you a ride home?” He asked innocently, having no idea what had happened back at the bar. He was just surprised that he had managed to bite back the jealousy in his voice.

You shook your head as you held a towel to it. “No.” Upon looking around, you realised that Steve was alone that night. You half expected Bucky to be over, so you asked, “Is Bucky not here?”

“No he’s not.” Steve shook his head, concern was plain across his face. “Why didn’t Louis drive you home? Did you walk here?”

You let a rattly laugh out at his questions, you didn’t even know where to start.

“We got into a disagreement.” You informed him simply, deciding to just skip over the finer details. You knew that if you told Steve about how much of an ass Louis was, he’d say ‘I told you so.’ He was often smug about things like that. It wasn’t unusual for Steve to get bad feelings about certain people or situations, and it was safe to say he was often right. He just so happened to be right about this too, but you were too blinded by the handsome and funny guy that had asked you out those weeks ago to listen to the wise warnings of your best friend.

“A disagreement? About what?” Steve’s voice raised ever so slightly and you turned your face to look him in the eye properly for the first time that night.

After a moment of his concerned blue eyes boring into you, you relented, fully prepared for the ‘I told you so’ that you were going to receive.

“It was nothing really. He spotted a few of his school friends and it’s safe to say I was the last thing on his mind. He talked for a couple of hours until I worked up the courage to interrupt him and ask to go home, but he said I could walk unless I wanted to give him something in return. And you know I’ve never done anything like that, Stevie, so I slapped him and got out of there as fast as I could.” You rambled, trying to fill the silence in the room as Steve stared seemingly at nothing. His uncharacteristically sharp expression scared you. “Steve?”

His eyes snapped to yours and looked over your shuddering body. “You didn’t think to call me when this all happened? What were you thinking?” He snapped, standing up from his seat and you shrunk at the sound. He noticed this and immediately softened. “I’m sorry Sweetheart. I don’t mean to yell, I’m not angry at you.” He said sweetly, taking a hold of your hands and crouching before your feet.

“Why would I call you Stevie, you can’t drive?” You asked quietly, you didn’t want to offend him.

He shrugged. “I could have walked you home or brought you a coat to wear. I’d do anything you need.”

In your stomach there was a wild explosion of butterflies. You always knew that you could rely on Steve, so you weren’t surprised at his offer, but it was the sweet touches of your hands and his sincere gaze when you look at him that made you feel warm. You always felt warm around Steve, he had that effect on you.

You smiled at him slightly. “Thank you.”

The butterflies never went away, not as he took you to your room and sat you on the bed, not as he sheepishly searched through your drawers for something to wear for bed or when he placed your clothes beside you and gave you a tender kiss to the apple of your cheek.

You’d never felt this way when Louis touched you, you didn’t feel this way when anyone touched you. Only Steve.

As he turned to leave, claiming that you should get changed out of your wet clothing, you called for him. He looked to you, surprised but waiting patiently for you to speak. You stood from your seat on the twin bed and found your way to him quickly. Reaching a hand up to his face, you smoothed over his soft, clean-shaven cheeks with a small smile.

“I wish I could find a guy like you, Steve.” You looked down at your feet, a sudden shyness overwhelming you. Sometimes you wondered if you wanted a guy like Steve or if you just wanted Steve. But you knew the you’d be waiting with open arms if Steve wanted you. You dated other guys all the time, just testing the waters, but somehow you always ended up with Steve by your side, comforting you.

Steve, on the other hand, showed no uncertainty. He adored you, he was only waiting for you to see that. But that was the problem, you couldn’t see that.

For every lousy date you went on, Steve would sit at home, wondering and wishing to God about how much he wanted you to stay at home and not go out, or better yet, come to him. And you finally had. You were there, stood in front of him, touching him, telling him you wanted someone like him. Steve felt like he could pass out from joy, but a tiny voice in the back of his head told him, ‘But she doesn’t want you’.

Steve only stayed silent, he could barely think when his mind was racing at light speed and you were stood so close to him. He thought if only he was brave enough, he could just lean in and…

But you spoke again. “If I found someone who treats me as good as you do, then I’d stop looking. Funny, isn’t it?” Your sultry eyes flicked down to his lips and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. “If I found a guy like you, he still wouldn’t be you.”

You had no idea where your words were coming from, nor why you said them, but you knew that you meant it.

“He wouldn’t be me?” He asked, utterly disbelieving of what he was hearing. There was no way that any of this hade come out of your mouth, he couldn’t believe it.

You shook your head and Steve’s breath hitched as your nose brushed against his own. You were so close and your lips looked so sweet to him. He wanted to taste them more than anything.

“Nobody is like you, Stevie. I just didn’t realise that for a while.” You admitted, you were far closer to his face than you ever had been before, despite your long friendship. Your lips were so close to his that you could only just feel the warmth coming from them, luring you in to plant a kiss on them.

His brows creased together a little, he looked nearly desperate as he asked, “What?” It was so soft that you barely heard it. No words could truly express to Steve what you meant, you knew they couldn’t. So, taking the leap, you drew closer and ever so slightly, you brushed your lips against his. When he let out a shaky sigh, you took it as your signal and you finally kissed him.

It was the softest kiss you’d ever shared with someone, but what else could you expect from Steve. Your lips moulded together perfectly, and you realised that this had never felt so right. You brought a hand up to Steve’s head as traced your delicate fingers through the hair and the nape of his neck.

And when you thought the kiss was over, he went back for more. His small hands held the sides of your face, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. You couldn’t help but sigh out at the feeling of his full lips against yours.

Steve never wanted anything more than to kiss you. And finally, one of you had taken the opportunity. Steve knew that he was done for as soon as you came so close to him. He was just regretful that he didn’t have the courage to kiss you first.

He was in heaven. Your beautiful body was pressed against his and the feeling of your warm dampened lips nearly made him tremble with need. He had forgotten all about your soaking wet clothing and pulled you closer to him. He didn’t care if he got wet, he’d take that any day over not being able to kiss you.

But finally, the dream was over. You pulled your lips away and Steve couldn’t help but mourn the absence. His brought his shaky hands away from you, cursing his desperation.

“Stevie?” He hummed in response. “Can I kiss you more from now on?”

Steve could have dropped dead right there and then and he’d die the happiest man alive. He nodded quickly after you asked him that, not daring to waste a second. “Yeah.”

He couldn’t wait.

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #captain america #steve rogers #pre serum steve #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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jen-with-a-pen · 1 year

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If You Go, I Go

summary: It's Bucky's last night before deployment. The evening does not go the way Steve, nor Bucky, thought it would.

pairings: complicated and closeted stucky

warnings: angst, loneliness, feeling the need to sacrifice yourself for preserum!steve, pining, closeted stucky, bisexual stucky, sad steve, messing with canon and adding some of comic canon in whoops

word count: 3.1k

a/n: literally this entire thing was written directly after seeing the gif above. My brain kicked into angsty overdrive and this was born. enjoy my first fic of the new year!

Please consider reblogging my work! Reblogging helps others to be able to enjoy mine and other writers' works! Help me help you help others and reblog <3

read here on AO3! | My Masterlist

gif by @daniel-bruehl | dividers by @firefly-graphics | beta read by the lovely Jane @lunarbuck

The Expo was loud. Louder than what Steve was used to.

Everything was more than what he was used to. So much going on in so many different directions– lights, sounds, voices, smells. Overstimulated was an understatement.

He wanted to be anywhere but there, standing in front of the open-air Science Expo. His clammy hands were stuffed into his wool pockets while he tried not to heave, fending off yet another anxiety attack. He only wanted Bucky.

But, for the pièce de résistance, Bucky invited Bonnie and Connie to join them, two doe-eyed gals in pretty skirts and zero interest in anything else. How Steve saw them, though, were two strangers hanging off of Bucky’s arms, vying for a kiss from the Sergeant.

The thought of it made Steve’s stomach churn like the butter his Ma used to make.

He had to admit, though, the girls weren’t complete strangers. Steve knew them from grade school. They lived around the street corner from the doctor’s office he unwillingly frequented. They’d say hi to him and were nice and polite, but that was it. They were only nice and polite. They, and all the other pretty girls Steve’s age, made it abundantly clear: no self-respecting girl wanted to court the cripple. Hell, for all he knew, if it wasn't for the constant reassurances from his Ma, Bucky could have been getting paid to be his friend– too fed up that even war sounded like a better reprieve than being around Steve.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want the girls there. Nor was it that he secretly wished it was only him and Bucky. In fact, it definitely wasn’t because it was his last night with Bucky before he shipped off to camp McCoy a thousand and one miles away.

Well, maybe it was.

"Stevie, you okay?"

The grounding timbre of Bucky’s voice derailed Steve’s spiraling train of thought. He hadn't realized he'd zoned out until Bucky clapped a strong hand on his shoulder.

Bucky's brow knitted with concern, baby blues searching Steve's with earnest worry. He reached his hand out and delicately wiped his cheek, his thumb resting on Steve’s cheek for a second longer as his hand cupped his face. Steve looked down at his two-sizes-too-big coat. Small dark spots had stained his woolen lapel sourced from the dampness on his cheek. He swallowed thickly, embarrassment and shame creeping up into his throat alongside the heat in his cheeks.

Steve hadn't realized he’d started to cry.

He pathetically raised a bulky sleeve to his face and rubbed at his cheeks hard enough that the wool felt like barbed wire scratching at his china-like skin. He cursed, blinking towards the night sky to rid his eyes of any more tears. They didn’t seem to stop until he bit his lip hard, holding back the bile rising in his throat. He wished he were anywhere but there.

He wished he could go with Bucky.

"'M fine, Buck," he mumbled, finally looking at his friend and forcing a pained smile onto his lips. "Gonna miss you, is all."

Bucky looked at him for a second more, eyes darting for a moment to Steve’s lips. Worry still plagued his features as he pulled Steve into the familiar embrace they both knew all too well. Pulling away, Bucky slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders and sighed.

“Well, punk, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll come back in one piece,” he looked down again at Steve and winked. “I’ll come back to you.”

Steve blushed, smiling at the ground. He could almost see himself in Bucky’s newly shined shoes, the black leather reflecting the festival lights from above as they made their way to meet the girls. Bucky paused, sliding his arm back and raising his hand to wave at the girls. The weight lifted off of Steve’s shoulders, and he shuddered, the cool air sneaking its way back into his body.

“Wait here, I’ll go get ‘em,” Bucky said, breaking away from Steve’s side and jogging to the gigantic statue the girls were huddled under. He watched Bucky as the same sinking feeling climbed back into his stomach, blinking back any more tears threatening to leave his eyes again.

Pansy. That’s what he was. Not a man, not even enough to be anybody. Nothing but a –

“Steve?” Bucky called, breaking through his clouded thoughts once more. “These are our lovely dates for this evening.”

Steve forced himself to meet Bucky’s eyes, only to be distracted by the two girls dangling off the Sergeant’s arms. Each of them smiled at their arm candy, doe eyes scanning his chiseled features and competing for who could grin the toothiest.

Steve stifled a laugh when he saw the lipstick between their teeth.

Bucky gestured his locked arms to Steve. He forced a smile, sticking out a hand for the girls to shake. The girls briefly broke their focus to acknowledge him, looking down at his extended hand. Their arms only gripped tighter to Bucky, a poor attempt to save face and keep their smiles from faltering. Steve sighed, knowing this would be the beginning of the end. He retracted his hand and returned it to his coat pocket, instead nodding to both girls and giving Bucky a defeated look.

Bucky chewed his lip, his brow knitting together at the pained look in Steve’s eyes. Turning to Bonnie, the blonde with neatly pinned curls and a pretty red dress, he wiggled free from her grasp and nodded to Steve.

“Bonnie, this is my best guy, Steve. Steve, you ‘member Bonnie?”

Bonnie’s strained smile didn’t reach as far as she intended it to. Her eyes stared blankly at Steve as if processing and accepting him as the fate she’d succumbed to by agreeing to be his date. Her eyes flicked over to Connie, imaginary daggers shooting straight into her friend’s chest.

This oughta be fun.

“Oh, Steve Rogers! I remember you!” She greeted in feigned excitement as she instinctively stuck out her hand to him. He gulped as he shot a quick, pleading look to Bucky, who mouthed, ‘kiss it.’ He reached his clammy hand out to hers, chapped lips meeting her delicately smooth skin. His nostrils flared, stomach churning as he inhaled her sickeningly sweet perfume. Choking back a gag, he glanced up at her as her smile turned into a subtle cringe. He looked at Bucky, whose hand around Connie’s shoulder seemed to tighten as he gnawed on his lip, the slightest bit of envy filling his gaze as it flicked from Steve to Bonnie.

“Nice t’ meet you, doll,” Steve sighed as he dropped Bonnie’s hand, his own snaking right back into his pocket.

“Well, now that we all know each other, how about gettin’ to Stark’s Show?” Bucky suggested. “I heard he’s gone all out this year!”

“Yeah, it should be starting soon!” Connie added.

Bucky smiled, Steve’s heart fluttering as he gave Connie his arm and began leading the group into the middle of the Expo. Bonnie trotted along next to him, wiggling her way onto his other arm as Bucky continued to tell them about Stark, his groundbreaking inventions, and his theories on how the man alone could alter the war as they knew it.

Steve trailed behind the trio, chuckling to himself as he listened to Bucky’s ramblings. The girls seemed to give less of a damn, bored out of their minds but hiding it better than Steve thought they would. He smirked to himself, Bucky’s excited voice taking him back to nights shared in their tiny Brooklyn apartment. The long nights they would both lie in bed, Steve forcing himself to stay awake to savor Bucky’s voice as he talked about science, books, and his theories on his favorite radio program, Avenger.

Steve would give anything for one more night like that.

As they approached the main stage, Steve's stomach rumbled. He cursed, realizing he forgot to eat again. How disappointed Bucky would be if he knew. He looked ahead to Bucky, who had turned over his shoulder with a concerned, furrowed brow.

‘You okay?’ he mouthed.

‘Snack,’ Steve responded as he pointed a bony thumb at the vendor next to him. Bucky nodded, his eyes lingering on Steve a second longer before returning to the girls.

Digging around for pocket change, Steve approached the vendor. The sugary scent of candied almonds and caramel corn wafted into his nose, his mouth watering as he pulled the coins out from the depths of his pockets. The girl at the booth smiled at him, all freckles and gap teeth. He ordered a small bag of almonds, his face flushing as his hand grazed hers offering the money. He swore he felt like he turned as red as her hair.

Get it together, Rogers.

He thanked her and dove back into the ocean of people, popping a few almonds into his mouth as he wove through the bodies finding Bucky. He spotted a waving hand clad in Army green poking out of the sea of people, and he beelined for it.

“Glad ya made it back, Stevie- er, Rogers,” Bucky fumbled, quickly glancing at both girls to see if they caught the name.

Steve’s heart, butterflies and all, died a little bit more when Bucky corrected himself. The familiar lump in his throat and the burn in his eyes threatened to return as he tried to ignore the nickname he knew all too well.

As Steve opened his mouth, music erupted from the loudspeakers surrounding the stage, announcing Howard Stark’s arrival as he forced one of the showgirls against his lips. His voice boomed over the music as the crowd applauded. The girls stared at the millionaire mogul in awe– Bucky included– as he introduced his latest feat of the flying car.

Steve popped more candies into his mouth, chewing as he listened absently at the selling points of the flying car. Bonnie looked back over her shoulder, her brow twitching upon laying eyes on Steve standing behind her as if remembering he still existed. She gave him a once over before turning back to the stage, her smile and awe returning to her face as quickly as it had disappeared. He paused mid-chew, looking down at his snack. Out of the sheer good manners his mother taught him, he extended his arm over her shoulder, the bag crinkling as he offered some to his so-called ‘date.’

In an instant, her demeanor dropped again, she snapped her head back to him. She eyed the bag of candied almonds as her nose scrunched, recoiling as if he’d offered her a handful of garbage. He looked at her in confusion, only to be met with the same daggers she’d shot Connie earlier being fired directly at him.

He slowly retracted his arm and looked at the candies. They were the same sugar-coated almonds he’d been eating the entire time, not some moldy science experiment. He blinked as he felt the sting return to his eyes, tears blurring his vision. The lump appeared suddenly back in his throat, thicker and heavier. He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t see, couldn’t speak.

He’d lost his appetite.

He didn’t care about the Expo, about Stark, about the stupid flying car that didn’t seem to fly at all. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be with the girls, with the people, not even with Bucky.

He wanted to be alone.

He bit his quivering lip, turning on his heel as the crowd erupted again, his eyes searching for any escape route he could find. He stood up on his toes to scan over another couple behind him when he froze at the illuminated Uncle Sam poster at the back of the crowd.

‘I WANT YOU!’

A sign. Literally and figuratively.

If Bucky had to go, he would too.

The candy-striped bag crumpled in his hands as he shouldered his way through the crowd, the Uncle Sam poster a beacon of light as he made his way toward the recruitment station. The closer he got, the faster his legs seemed to work, carrying him to the entryway of the station. He’d barely crossed the threshold before a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“Steve, hey, you’re kinda missin’ the point of a double date,” Bucky chided, turning Steve to face him. Hurt plagued his features as his brow knitted further, eyes searching Steve’s for an answer.

“And I think Connie’s missin’ a mirror with all that lipstick in her teeth,” Steve shot back.

“What the hell, Steve,” he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the entryway to the side of the station, shaking him slightly, “What’s gotten into you t’night, huh?”

Anger flooded into Steve’s veins as he grabbed Bucky’s hand and threw it off of him. He huffed, throwing the crumpled bag of wasted candies onto the ground and stomping on them.

“You don’t understand, Buck!” Steve’s voice shook, “You’ll never understand!”

“Understand what, Steve?” Bucky gritted.

“That if you go, I go!”

His chest heaved as tears spilled down his cheeks. His hands shook as much as his voice as they turned into fists at his side.

“If you go to war, I go to war. If you leave, then–” he choked out a sob, “then I have nothing left! I am nothing! Without you, I’m nothing!” He sputtered, choking down air as he grabbed Bucky by the arms. “I didn’t wanna spend tonight with the girls, I wanted to spend it with you!”

He sobbed again, pulling Bucky to him. The dark green coat had dampened with the blond’s tears. Bucky stood still, arms at his side, speechless.

“It’s ‘cause I love you.”

His confession, muffled and final, brought Bucky back to reality. He continued to cry, gasping lightly as he felt Bucky’s heavy arms slowly wrapping around him, squeezing tightly around his friend. Bucky bent his head to Steve’s, soft blond hair gracing his lips as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s head. Steve shook again and paused, slowly looking up to find Bucky’s eyes welling with tears of his own. He swallowed thickly, placing another shaky kiss on Steve’s forehead.

“I love you too, punk.”

Bucky wrapped his arms further around Steve’s waist, hoisting him up past the tips of his toes as he brought the blond to his lips. All of the air left Steve’s lungs, his eyes gaping widely as Bucky pushed into him. Bucky’s arms held onto Steve tightly, keeping him stable as his head spun wildly. Steve pushed into the kiss, locking his arms around Bucky’s neck. His fingers carded into the Sergeant’s hair, nearly knocking his hat off. Steve couldn’t help but grin at the soft moan he elicited from Bucky’s chest, savoring every second before Bucky broke from him.

Bucky placed Steve gently back on the ground. Steve sniffled, shaking his head as his mouth floundered to find anything to say. Bucky struggled too, reaching for Steve’s hand before he suddenly froze.

“Bucky? Bucky! Are we still going dancing?” Connie called. Bucky snapped to attention, turning on his heel and putting on his best ‘I didn't just kiss my best friend’ face.

“Y-yes! Of course, ladies!” He responded, his facade dissipating the instant he turned back to Steve. Concern dotted his features, making Steve’s heart pound harder.

“Look, Stevie, make me one promise,” He pleaded, gathering Steve’s hands into his own, “Wait for me, will ya?”

Steve’s face fell. Confusing, hurt, all boiling in his blood, spilling over into the mess of emotions he felt swirling in his head. This is all Bucky could say after that?

“What do y’mean, Bucky? I’m going in there to enlist. I’m going to fight. If you go, I go!”

Bucky faltered, grip loosening on Steve’s hands. He licked his lips, weight shifting as he glanced over his shoulders. Nobody paid them any mind, not even the girls. He turned back to Steve and set his jaw.

“Steve, this is war. This isn’t some back alley fight where I’m gonna come save your sorry ass again. There’re jobs here! You can stay at the apartment or work for the pharmacy. You can–”

“I can, what, work in the factories? Collect scrap metal until God says when?” He yanked his hands away from Bucky’s hold.

“Why not? It’s safe! It means you’ll be here! It means I won’t have to worry about you–”

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice boomed, snapping Bucky’s attention back to him. He silently fumed, biting his lip to speak any further. He felt like he drew blood when Steve reached for his hands this time. His small palms paled in comparison to Bucky’s, but he managed to hold them as well as Bucky held his. He tugged at Bucky’s fingers, commanding the Sergeant to look at him.

“There are men laying down their lives ‘nd I got no right to do anything less than them, less than you. This isn’t about me, or you, or anyone, or anything. This is about doing what’s right,” he said. His thumbs ran over Bucky’s knuckles, gracing the veins in his

hands he’d studied so many times before when he drew in his sketchbook.

Bucky scoffed. “And you got nothing to prove, huh?”

“Sarge!” Bonnie’s voice rang. “We goin’ dancing or what?”

Bucky gritted a sigh through his teeth, plastering another fake smile once more.

“Yes, we are!”

Steve blanched, letting go of Bucky’s hands and crossing them over his chest.

Bucky turned back to Steve, who stood with a shoulder to him, side-eyeing the Sergeant with hurt in his eyes. Bucky could tell Steve’s lip was quivering no matter how hard he bit down on it.

Bucky dropped his head, knowing it would be the last time he’d see Steve. He shook his head, looking for the right words to part with in light of their newly confessed love.

“Promise me one thing then,” he requested, pulling Steve into a hug. His arm slung around his shoulders, patting him as Steve mimicked his motions almost half-heartedly.

“What?” His voice muffled into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.”

Bucky released him from the hug, turning to leave for the girls when, Steve stopped him, grabbing him by the tie. His bony, nimble fingers reached up, straightening the silk fabric, smoothing down his lapel, and fixing the gold buttons donning it. He smiled weakly, looking up at the Bucky one last time.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with ya.”

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ieatadoptmepets · 2 months

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Soundtrack and timeline to my fic And It All Leads Back To You, with explanations, 1-10. Check out my other posts for more info!

You Are My Sunshine (1940)- You discover this song again in the mid 40s when steve and bucky die. This song reminds you of them because for a long time they were your only family. You cry to it many nights. It's given a new meaning when you discover that howard, jarvis, and peggy are your family as well

When you wish upon a star (1940)- two meanings. A) you are grieving for steve and bucky. You wish them to be back so long, or that it'd stop hurting. B) you're on earth and have been for almost 150 years. You love Loki. You wish to see your best friend again

Dream a little dream of me (ella fitzgerald) (1950)- you've been dating howard for a while now, and you've accepted that you can love someone new and still hold your love for Loki. Howard reminds you of everything good in the world and shows you a life you never thought you could have

Fly me to the moon (1954)- a romantic song howard plays for you to express his love, and you love it, but you can't help but take the lyrics literally and dream about taking howard above the stars and to asgard. This became your wedding song with howard

Great balls of fire (1957)- one of the sillier songs you know but a testament to time. Always gets you dancing and having a good time

Johnny b goode (1958)- if you go out somewhere upbeat dancing, this song always plays somehow. howard has his ways, and knows you like this song

Put your head on my shoulder (1959)- stands as one of your favorite old love songs. Who knows how many times this plays on a vinyl in your and howards home?

At last (1961)- a beautiful song that reminds you that after all that time of searching you've finally found the love you were looking for

Sway (dean martin) (1961)- howard loves to play this song and dance to it with you, either early morning or late at night- you never could agree on what time it was when you pulled at-home all-nighter dates together

The lion sleeps tonight (1961)- not particularly a love song like the rest but it still is one of "your songs"

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late-to-the-party-81 · 11 months

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Loving you means loving myself - Chapter 2

AN: Welcome back for my second entryfor Hot Bucky Summer, organised by @buckybarnesevents. This is chapter two of the fic I posted last week.

For the Week Two prompt “What should I call you?”, I have chosen Daddy.

Thank you to @linnahiell for beta-ing

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist | Chapter 1

Summary: Steve's home and Bucky is eager for what's going to happen. Steve is in no mood to rush though.

Relationship: Beefy Bucky x Small Steve

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: Indulgent fluff, mild sexual content, flashbacks, domestic Bucky, small amount of dirty talk, light D/S tones, Daddy kink, everything is soft and nothing hurts.

In…

Out…

Bucky tried to regulate his breathing as he waited, trying to stay as calm and relaxed as much as he could, despite the excitement within him trying to break free. Steve appreciated it if Bucky could control himself, at least to start with. He’d be allowed free reign of himself later in the evening. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock made Bucky’s heart skip a beat, and his feet squirmed against his ass. Somehow he managed to keep his expression under control.

The door opened and he walked through. Steve. The light of Bucky’s life.

“Daddy.”

He said the title reverently, and with that one word, Steve entirely understood. A smile played at the edges of the blonds lips, as he looked at Bucky, not breaking eye contact while he took off and hung up his coat, dumped his keys on the entrance table and loosened his tie.

With measured strides, Steve made his way across the small space separating them and Bucky could feel his heart-rate increasing with each step, his spine getting more and more tense, until Steve finally reached him. A strong hand cupped Bucky’s jaw and with that one touch all that tension fled his body as he relaxed into it.

“Hey, baby. You look absolutely beautiful. And dinner smells wonderful. Is this all for me?”

Steve’s deep voice made him shiver, but somehow Bucky managed to drag his eyelids, which had closed on their own the moment Steve’s flesh had connected with his own, open and looked up into the eyes of his lover.

“‘S for us, Daddy. Like looking pretty. And I like pasta, too.”

Bucky saw Steve’s eyes soften, and felt Steve’s thumb rubbing across his cheekbone. He could tell Steve was happy with his answer, and if he were a puppy, he was sure his tail would be wagging.

“Good boy. You should always do things that make you happy, not just me.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Steve looked at him for a few moments longer, and Bucky could feel himself getting fidgety under the intense scrutiny, but then Steve let go of his face and took a step back, holding out his hand.

“Up you get, baby. Let me take a good look at you, and then we can eat the dinner you’ve so lovingly made.”

Taking hold of the proffered hand, Bucky rose to his feet.

He was still in awe of the differences between them, and probably always would be. At first glance, people would probably make assumptions about their dynamic, but they’d also probably be wrong.

Bucky was tall, just over 6ft, and by his own admission a bit of a gym bro. He liked to work out, and had broad shoulders, a solid core and thick thighs.However, he was also the first to admit he was the subbiest bottom he knew. He loved to get fucked, but he also loved to please his top, be told what to do and then be praised for it.

Steve, on the other hand, was only 5ft 6in, and so slim he looked like a strong breeze would snap him in half. However, guys only made the assumption that he was a bottom once, or that they could push him around less times than that.

Bucky was constantly amazed by how many people were just unable to see the ‘dom aura’ that just poured out of Steve. He remembered the first time they’d met - introduced by mutual friends in a bar, and Bucky was not ashamed to admit to Steve later that he almost fell straight to his knees right away. Later was in fact that same evening, with Bucky admitting it while he actually was on his knees, in the washroom, desperately trying to get Steve’s cock out of his pants…

They’d fallen into their dynamic fast, Bucky eager to serve and Steve eager to praise, and it hadn’t taken much longer for them to say those magic words to each other. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that fit beautifully together.

“Buck?”

Bucky snapped back to the present with a small jolt, realising that he’d zoned out.

“You alright, baby?” There was a note of concern in Steve’s voice, and Bucky smiled.

“I’m alright, Daddy. Just thinking ‘bout us and how much I love you.”

“Aww, aren’t you the cutest thing?” Steve stood up on his toes and pressed a light kiss to Bucky’s lips. “Now, turn around, so I can see how prettily you’ve wrapped yourself.”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, and he also didn’t care if he was blushing. Steve was allowed to compliment him, and he was working hard on trying to accept them when they came. He’d only gotten half way through his turn when he felt Steve plaster himself to his back, those slim arms with ridiculously broad hands sliding around his waist, and dipping ever so slightly lower, to brush a palm briefly over Bucky’s crotch.

Bucky bit back a moan, and Steve gave out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry, baby, but you’re just so goddamn tempting. This is definitely your colour. Now, I promise to leave you be for now. I’m gonna go wash up and I’ll be right back.”

Bucky turned in Steve’s embrace and pressed a kiss to the mop of blond hair.

“I’ll hold you to that. I don’t want dinner to spoil.”

“I’d never disrespect you like that, and you know it.”

“And you know I’m just teasing.”

Steve stood up on his toes once again and nipped at Bucky’s lower lip.

“I’ll bear that in mind for later on.”

He walked away then, with strong, assured steps and Bucky definitely wasn’t watching as Steve released the cuff buttons of his shirt and started to roll the sleeves up. However, it was time for the final meal preparations.

Having turned on the toaster oven, Bucky halved some ciabatta rolls and popped them under the heat. While the tops crisped and browned, he carefully took the lasagne out of the oven. The smell was amazing.

He cut out two portions with a knife and then carefully dished them out onto matching plates. Some salad was placed on the side with a drizzle of honey-balsamic dressing on top, and then the timer on the toaster oven went ping. He pulled the hot toasted bread out, blowing on his fingers at the sting, and sprinkled olive oil over all four pieces, and then rubbed them with a fat garlic clove.

When a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and a deep, sexy voice whispered in his ear, Bucky almost leapt up to the ceiling.

“Mmmm, can’t wait to tuck in.”

Steve moved away as quickly as he’d appeared, carafe of wine in hand, leaving a blushing Bucky in his wake.

With a shake of his head, Bucky picked up the two plates and carried them across the small space to the table, where Steve had poured out two glasses of wine and was taking his seat. Bucky placed the dishes down, deftly removed his apron and sat down for the much anticipated dinner.

“That was delicious, baby. Thank you.” Steve pushed back his chair and stood, empty plate in hand. Moving around to the other side of the table, he gathered up Bucky’s plate and then pressed a sweet kiss to Bucky’s waiting lips. “Now, I’m going to clean up here. I think you should head through to the bedroom, and get my desert ready, don’t you?”

How could so few words have such an effect on him? And did he really just let out a whimper? Well, Steve’s little smirk indicated that he had.

“Going sweet on me already, baby?” Steve’s hand cupped Bucky’s face. “We’ve not even started. Bet you’re gonna go deep tonight, aren’t you?”

Bucky didn’t know what to say, just looked up at Steve with wide eyes.

“Come on, up now. Go and get comfy and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

Somehow he got to his feet and, with another kiss from Steve, practically floated down the corridor.

As he walked around the bedroom, lighting the candles he’d prepared earlier, Bucky thought back to those first days with Steve. Admittedly, the washroom blowjob wasn’t his finest hour, but he was never going to regret the impulsivity that had brought him to where he was now.

Their first date had been two days after they met. Steve had invited him for dinner and they’d spent the evening talking and flirting, away from the prying eyes, whoops and hollers of their friends. Steve had walked him home, kissed him, but refused to come inside.

“I’d love to come in, Bucky. But even though we got off to a fast start,” his lips had twitched and Bucky had snorted, “I’d like to get to know you better, and have some frank discussions about what we both want. Because I think this could be so wonderful if we do it right.”

“Come in and we can talk right now, Steve.”

“No, because you’ll go all sweet and start sucking my cock before I can even start, just like the other day. Be patient. It’s not all about the destination - the journey is just as important.”

It had been on a stroll through Central Park on their third date, the leaves turning orange and littering the path, when Steve had asked Bucky what he wanted from their relationship. Bucky had blushed as his words had stumbled out, as he’d admitted that he had a thing for being looked after and praised. Steve had smiled and twined their fingers together.

“It’s a good thing that I like looking after good boys, then.”

They’d discussed the things they didn’t like too, Bucky admitting that his size and build had made previous partners assume things about him and Steve had given him a wry smile and said that the same had often happened to him. Awkward chuckles gave way to full laughs as they realised the serendipity that had brought them together.

There were two more dates and a lot more kissing and talking before Steve asked Bucky if he wanted to stay the night. Bucky said yes, called him Daddy that first time, and never looked back.

The memory made him smile as he lit the last of the candles and then crossed to the bathroom for a last minute freshen up. He washed his hands, checked his hair and make-up and returned to the bedroom, a thrum of excitement pulsing through his body. Carefully he removed his lounge outfit, folding the soft silk and folding the two pieces before placing them on the top of the chest of drawers. He then crossed to the bed, climbed up and knelt down, his legs tucked beneath him. He then lay down, chest to the mattress and his arms laying down either side of him. He hoped Steve wouldn’t be long.

Chapter 3

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