#stucky x f!reader

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐤

Fairy Tales and stories always had one ending, that the prince would find his princess and all would be well; a masterful, happily ever after. You had never believed that would be you, not in your wildest dreams. Until the day that two knights in inked armour walked through the door of your castle and made themselves at home in your heart.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖠺 Tattoo Artist!CW!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖠺 6.7k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖠺 Fluff, light show of dom/sub

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𖠺 I sincerely blame my hype squad for this, but a very special thank you to SC for her genius mind for helping me build this world, and to @sebstanwhore for putting up with my screaming about it constantly. 𖠺 This is officially my longest published fic as of September 2023!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖠺 So This Is Love by Ilene Woods, Mike Douglas 𖠺 I See The Light by Mandy Moore, Zachary Levi

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 𖠺 @smutconnoisseur

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𖠺 @stuckybingo 𝗚𝟰 — Tattoo Shop AU (September Adoptable) — Masterlist 𖠺 @allcapsbingo 𝗕𝟰 — Old Married Couple — Masterlist 𖠺 @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Florist AU — Masterlist 𖠺 @mcukinkbingo 𝗚𝟱 — Poly Relationship Negotiation — Masterlist

𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sunlight streamed through the window as you stood behind the shop counter. It was a bright, clear day, and the possibilities that a new day could bring excited you. 

The perfume of freshly bloomed buds and bouquets filled your senses, each petal of the flowers that surrounded you just as pretty as the last. Walking into the place you built from the ground up since botany had run in your blood for generations. The love for floristry, specifically, had been passed down from your mother, then her mother before her, and her mother before her. 

As a child, with their guidance, you grew up with such kindness and compassion for all flora and fauna, and you were an avid daydreamer. 

Your daydreams of fairy tales, of wonder and love through the petals and veins of the ages, was how you came to affectionately name your haven and shop Fantasy Floristry. 

Lanterns softly lit the way between the rows of bouquets and arrangements in the shadier corners of your store, and the walls, which were devoid of shelves with bouquets, were covered with pencil drawings of fantasy creatures and characters from many Disney movies – all signed by a local artist. That of which, was you. 

It was a slow morning, customers sparse and fairly few between. Which, in itself, was never unusual, and afforded you the opportunity to potter about. Each bud you passed had a loving caress and gentle touch before they were spritzed with a soft spray of water, and you hummed along to the music playing over the speakers, a classic, timeless Disney tune.

You smiled as you looked upon the shelves fit to burst with blooms – each bunch set to a theme of a movie. Red and yellow matched with a brown ribbon for Simba and his mane, black and white with a red ribbon for Patch and his collar, and your most popular theme, one for Rapunzel; purple and yellow, with a gold ribbon to tie it in. 

The chime of the doorbell sounded at the front of the store, and you looked up just in time to see your best friend and employee walk in, steaming to-go cups in hand. “Late again,” you scolded, and she smiled sheepishly. 

“I brought us coffees to make up for it, darling,” Wanda simpered, holding out one of the coffees and a small brown bag. “And I bought you a bagel. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

You rolled your eyes and took the coffee. “Thanks, Wands.”

“I’ll be out back,” Wanda called as she strode to the cool room. “See you later!” 

Things progressed as usual after that – customers came and went with bright smiles as they left with small or big bouquets. 

You were behind the counter working away on the store’s social media when the bell chimed loudly, followed by two sets of heavy footfalls and low voices. “She’s off with Ma, you know that, punk,” one of them said, almost as though they were exasperated. “It’ll be nice for them to come back to something, don’t you think?”

“Alright, alright,” the other voice replied placatingly. The door closed behind the newcomers with another chime, and their boots thumped quietly over the tiled floor. “Which do you think- Oh, wow. They’re beautiful.”

You looked up from your phone just in time to see two men approaching, only they had stopped at the Rapunzel and Simba bouquets, the blond one of the two pointing at the purple roses and yellow lilies. His other hand… was holding the other’s – interlocked so their tattoos aligned, and a wedding band shone brightly on his ring finger. 

They were beautiful – far more so than any bouquet you could imagine or conjure. The blond was broad and lithe, his long hair swept back and beard neatly trimmed. A black plaid shirt covered his frame, and the top two buttons were undone, revealing coloured ink creeping up his collarbones. A bright, intricate yellow sunflower was tattooed along the contours of his neck, from the back to the front of the pale skin.

It seemed to match the other man’s, who, in place of a sunflower, had a bunch of purple daisies arranged in a loosely assembled heart. His hair was dark and long, down to the top of his shoulders, and he was bigger, broader than the blond man, though they stood at the same height. His skin was covered in ink – visible under the rolled up sleeves and open collar of his navy henley. 

“Oh, lord,” you whispered, blinking rapidly to try and discern if you were dreaming. 

You were, in fact, not dreaming. 

The dark-haired man looked up at the counter and sent you a charming grin, pointing at the flowers himself. “Did you do these?” 

Don’t make a fool of yourself, you chastised silently. “Yeah, they–yeah, I did them,” you stammered in reply. 

“They’re stunning,” the blond offered, awestruck. “You’ve done an amazing job, doll.”

The two men walked to the counter, hands still interlocked as they neared, and you gulped – they were married, keep it together. 

“I’m Steve,” the blond said happily, holding his hand out to shake, which you accepted politely, with an added bonus of being able to look at his tattoos. “And this is my husband, Bucky.” He pointed at the dark-haired man who also offered his hand, only he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles – just like a prince would. Your stomach and heart swooped at the gesture when Steve continued, “We own the tattoo shop next door.”

“Oh!” you chirped, immediately cringing internally. You offered your name, then, “I’ve seen the art in the windows, and it’s all so beautiful. Have you been here long? I know I’ve only recently set up shop, but business has been so busy I haven’t had a chance to come and say hello.”

Bucky grinned. “Too long, we would say,” he chuckled and glanced at Steve. “We saw you set up shop back when you moved in, and I have to say, we were very intrigued.” Both men looked around your store before their focus was back on you. “It’s a beautiful set up, nice ‘n cosy.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, shy but proud. 

Steve smirked and nodded to the display of Rapunzel flowers. “What would a professional recommend for two hovering mother hens–just to remind them that we love ‘em.”

“Oh, that is so sweet,” you rushed before you could clamp your jaw shut, and Bucky snorted. “What? What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Bucky rushed, still grinning. “It’s just–if you met them, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

A loud smack sounded as Steve slapped Bucky’s shoulder and shoved him away. “Stop being such an ungrateful son, honey,” he teased as Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway,” you said haltingly, making your way around the counter. More to yourself, you mumbled, “You can do this, it’s fine, they’re just handsome men, keep it together.” 

Coming to a stop at the far corner, you stopped and watched both of them as they bickered, much like an old married couple, “You know Ma would like that more. She likes teddies and shit-” Bucky emphasised, but Steve raised a brow. 

“You’re telling me that you want to shell out for a damn bear–well, aren’t you son of the year,” Steve teased, staring at the shelf full of small, soft stuffies. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, now he agrees with me-” Bucky was cut off by Steve’s hand, who covered his mouth and held his thumb under his chin to keep his mouth shut. The display made your lips part in surprise, though it went unnoticed. Bucky’s brows furrowed, and it looked as though he was pouting. You made out a muffled but determined huff of, “Lemme go.”

“Do as you’re told then, boy,” Steve whispered harshly. 

Internally, you were screaming at the show of intimacy – albeit restrained, and you couldn’t help the shiver that crawled up your spine at the sound of Steve’s command. You shook your head and cleared your throat to get their attention. 

Both of their gazes snapped towards you as though they had forgotten where they were. “D-Do you still want–want help?” you stuttered. 

“Yes, please, doll,” Steve said happily, and he wandered over. Bucky followed soon after and rested his chin on Steve’s shoulder, wrapping his arms from behind – the creak of leather made you look down to see Bucky on his toes to have the slight height advantage. 

You realised a second too late that you were still staring at them because they chuckled and winked at you when you glanced back up at their faces.  

A sudden shyness blanketed your mind at their undivided attention, but you pushed through the murky waters of confused intrigue and desire – the latter a shock to your system. “So, we have these, especially for motherly bouquets,” you explained, pointing at the purple, pink, and yellow hues of petals. “Otherwise…”

The tour of the shop was an eventful encounter. Both men were enraptured and entranced by the beauty of the flowers, and each compliment to any arrangement made your heart soar with pride. It was only when you made it back to the Disney themed arrangements did Steve’s eyes light up. 

“Mom would love these,” he breathed, gently brushing the petals of a yellow lily before doing the same to a purple rose. “She loves this movie. It’s a job to convince her to watch anything else.”

You giggled and nodded in agreement. “I have to say it’s one of my favourites, too. So beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said suddenly, and you looked at him. He was already staring at you. “Really beautiful.”

The humming of Ilene Woods came over the speaker at that moment: “So this is love, so this is what makes life divine.” Steve nodded in agreement and looked at you with a fond smile.

It was surreal, and it was all you could do to hold in a squeak of shock. On autopilot, while you recovered from such an insinuation, you blurted quickly, “I saw the tattoos on your necks. What do they mean? They’re so beautiful, and I adore them.”

“Oh, these?” Bucky pointed at his and then Steve’s, the flower tattoos bright in the sunlight from the window. “My Ma loves purple daisies, loved ‘em since she was young. I always bring her some each time I visit, and since she and Steve’s Mom are best friends, it’s only natural that this punk has to get Sarah some of her own. Don’t want him lookin’ like the bad son, after all.”

Steve shoved Bucky off and sighed heavily. “Yeah, shut it, jerk.” He rubbed at the tattoo, smiling absently. “Mom loves sunflowers. Dad used to get her a bunch every Friday night.”

You smiled softly at his words, feeling the pain of them. “That’s beautiful, Steve.” Bucky’s hand found Steve’s, and you saw him squeeze once. “Would you like two Rapunzel bouquets, then? I can add a sunflower and a daisy to each at no charge–I want to make your mothers smile. They deserve it.”

“Sweetheart, we can’t ask you to do that,” Bucky interjected. Steve hummed an ascension as you grabbed a bouquet. “Seriously. Your arrangements are stunning. We can’t ask for anymore.”

“You’re not asking,” you whispered quietly, looking at the bouquet in your arms. The beat of your heart thundered as you wondered if what you were about to say would spook them off, but their presence had flourished something inside of you – a boisterous and courageous thing. “I am offering, and I want those who leave my shop to be happy, to smile. If I can do that for your mothers too? You bet I will.”

You turned your back and walked towards the counter, entirely missing the look Bucky and Steve shared – one of adoration and affection.

The bouquet sat proudly on the counter as you turned to grab the next one, when you gasped in shock. Bucky had grabbed the second one, while Steve had picked up one of the largest and most expensive arrangements. 

“Oh, Steve! Bucky, wait, I-”

“Nope,” Bucky cut in, and he placed the Rapunzel bouquet down next to the other one. Then he turned to Steve to help him lift the bigger arrangement onto the counter. “How about this–would you make us something for our shop? We want something on the front desk. This big one,” he pointed to the elaborate piece, “is going in our home–away from Alpine.”

“Alpine?” you quizzed. Steve nodded, and Bucky pulled out his phone before turning the screen to you – a photo of a fluffy white cat with piercing blue eyes as his lock screen. “They are beautiful!”

“She’s an attention whore, but she’s our baby,” Bucky said fondly, a small smile on his lips. He looked up at you and that smile morphed into a grin. “Now, how ‘bout it, sweetheart?”

You blinked. “Sorry?”

“The arrangement for our shop, doll,” Steve answered, and you started – how had you forgotten that?

“Right!” you rushed, flustered. They watched you, but their gazes were gentle, almost coaxing. “Sure–I, uh, I can do that for sure. When do you need it by?” Your trusty paper pad and pen felt comforting in your hands, and you looked between them expectantly. 

They shared a look, and then Steve spoke up, “Are you busy now, honey?”

Mentally, you catalogued the tasks for the day. There were no urgent appointments to meet nor any commissions, and Wanda was around… “No, I am–I am free, today, that is.” You cursed the softness of your voice. They’d see your shyness, your absurd ability to become flustered with the slightest push. 

Bucky grinned and then winked. “Perfect, why don’t we take you to the shop? See how quick our clever girl can whip something up.”

By heaven and earth, how you were unprepared for such a statement. Your mouth opened and closed as the words settled in the cogs of your brain, jamming them with the assurance  and praise. 

“That’s a good idea, doll. You can get a sense for the colours and contrasts.” Steve turned to you more fully. “We can walk you back–do you have someone to watch the store…?”

“Yeah–I, there’s-” You squeaked, gesturing over your shoulder. “I’ll just- Um, go get her.”

The back cooler room couldn’t have been further away at that moment. You rushed towards it, arm outstretched when you heard Steve whisper behind you, “She’s so sweet, don’t you think?”

“She is,” Bucky agreed easily. The words made your heart thump, and you didn’t linger, pushing open the door to the blast of the cool back room air.  

“There you are-” Wanda greeted, but she fell short.

You shut the door and rested against it, holding a hand over your hammering heart.

“What the–? Are you alright?” she hurriedly asked, her face pulled taut and brows furrowed. “You look like you’ve… Wait, are you-”

“I need you to watch the shop for me,” you barrelled, breathing deeply in an effort to calm your racing heart. “Please–just look.” The door creaked open to reveal a slither of the front counter where Bucky and Steve stood, conversing and looking around the store. “They want me to make a–a bouquet for their shop, the tattoo–?”

“Oh, babe,” Wanda whispered, pushing the door closed gently. There was an impish smile curling her lips. “Go on, I’ve got this. If you don’t come back tonight, I’ll close up.”

“What do you mean not come back–?” You stared at her, unable to comprehend her secret, double meaning. 

“Don’t you worry, sweet summer child,” she said, winking. “I’ll see you later.”

Before you could protest or question why everyone kept winking at you, Wanda had undone the bow of your apron, whisked it off of your uniform, and forced you out the door ahead of her. 

“There she is!” Bucky called, his signature grin curling his lips. “Are you set to go?”

Wanda stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, and she surreptitiously pushed you closer to the counter. She had that same coy smirk on her lips. Both Bucky and Steve waved and greeted her. “Just take care of my girl–she’s going to make you the best arrangement,” Wanda said. 

“We will,” Steve assured, and he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pay for these now, ladies.”

After completing the transaction for the two bouquets and singular larger arrangement, Wanda’s hand found your back, and she forced you forward, closer to Bucky. “See you three later.”

Steve saluted and walked forward, and you followed, your footsteps quick compared to the heavy boot falls of your companions. As you walked behind Steve, Bucky pointed up to a canvas on the wall – a scene painted straight from the movie Tangled, the beautiful soft hues of yellow and gold of the lanterns in the sky. “Who did this?”

“A local artist,” you whispered, glancing between the canvas and Bucky. “She sells her work here–I wanted to help an old friend.”

Bucky stepped closer to the canvas, and by doing so, he stood right next to you. The smell of his cologne and close proximity made your heart skip a beat – even his voice sounded deeper this close. “Whoever she is, she’s very talented. Pass that on for us, yeah?”

“Okay,” you squeaked, and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, I- I will pass that on for you. She would appreciate it.”

“I would be tempted to hire her,” Steve said quietly, voice awestruck. “Her colour work and ability to capture the moment is beautiful. She has a gift.”

Do not faint, you repeated in a mantra.

“Alright, c’mon,” Bucky urged. “Let’s take our Petal to the shop, or we’ll never leave.”

“Petal?” you whispered, and Bucky rested his hand on your lower back, gently encouraging you forward. 

“Yeah, that’s you,” he said softly. “Precious and pretty–jus’ like a petal of a flower.”

The outside air was a reprieve from the stifling tension of your shop, and Steve turned around and looked at you, then Bucky, and he slowed to walk beside you – opposite to Bucky. You were walking between them, and could not calm your heart’s thunderous beat. 

It was a short walk, but nonetheless, it left an impression. People had hastened to move out of your way as you walked between the two men, both brooding and you had guessed intimidating – if the shocked and double-takes of all passers by were anything to go by. 

A dark brick building came into view – black awnings and dark accents made it feel rustic, paired with the striking art on the windows of a star and a set of wings set just below the artistic calligraphy of Quartet’s Tattoo. 

“Here we are,” Steve said, gesturing at the front door. “Come on in, Petal–Buck, babe, you picked a nice one. I love the way it sounds.”

“What?” you sputtered. “I-”

‘Yeah,” Bucky breathed, then slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. His lips were suddenly on your temple, a soft kiss that left you reeling. “I agree.”

The door, artfully carved with more stars and in place of wings were skulls, opened with a creak to reveal a dark and moody waiting area. Wooden beams were visible over the ceiling where lights with black shades hung in increments, and designs were all over the walls, each as intricate as the last. Dark slats of wood lined the floor until they reached an open space towards the back of the shop where you guessed the booths were situated. 

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” Bucky said, pointing to a black leather couch that seated three, a glass table in front of it. “Do you want a drink–?”

“Water, please,” you replied, sitting down. You suspected you’d need something stronger to dull the nerves, but you refrained from mentioning that aloud. “This is beautiful.” 

Art was everywhere, in every nook and cranny. You could see four booths, and managed a peak at the names lining the walls – Steve, ‘Cap’; Bucky, ‘Sarge’; Nat, ‘Widow’; Sam, ‘Falcon’.

“Thanks, doll,” Steve said happily, and he took the seat opposite you. “It’s our pride and joy.”

Bucky appeared with a glass of water and sat on the other end of the couch, tucking his leg up so he could face you. It was silent for a moment as you took the space in. Choices flooded your mind the more you stared around – reds and burgundies to compliment the dark stained wood, but then, whites and yellows would contrast against the deep, rich hues of the mahogany.

You blinked and looked back at Bucky and Steve, only they were already watching you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you breathed, smiling nervously as you placed the glass of water on a coaster on the table. “I- I was just looking so I could, um, get a feel for the arrangement for you.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you thinking?” Bucky asked, his tone teasing. 

Frowning slightly, deep in thought, you looked around the shop once more before finally settling on the reception desk. 

The wood was stained dark, like the rest of the shop, but the accents of lightened, bleached knots and ridges caught your attention. Whites and yellows would bring that to light, and then, a fiery arrangement for the glass coffee table… “Uh- Well, I have two ideas,” you began. 

Both Bucky and Steve raised their brows, and placed their drinks on the table. Steve leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and letting his hands fall between his thighs. Bucky, back still against the arm of the couch, leaned against it and put a heavily tattooed arm over the back of it. 

“Let’s hear it then,” Bucky said, his grey eyes bright with curiosity. “What’s our clever girl imagined?”

“Let her talk, Buck,” Steve chastised. 

You took a deep breath and fought against the urge to run and hide – it was strange to feel so safe and attended to by these two strangers, but they had done nothing to warrant suspicion, at least, not that you had thought. 

“Well,” you began, fidgeting in your seat as you nodded to the reception desk. “I thought a lighter arrangement would work. See how the wood is stained dark, but there are lighter streaks and knots?” You pointed at the spots you could see from your vantage point. “Whites and yellows would soften the–I think saturation is the right word?”

There was an affirming hum from one of them, and you continued. “Then it would make the entry feel lighter, as the room feels broody–it isn’t a bad thing,” you rushed to assure, looking at the two men with wide eyes. “The space is beautiful, and I love it–just, some softness might brighten it a bit.”

“Huh, you’re right, doll,” Steve considered, his hand now rubbing his chin as he stared at the desk. “I think we’d do better–maybe attract more clients. What do you think, babe?”

“It would work well, yeah,” Bucky agreed. 

He shifted closer, almost imperceptibly, but your keen, anxious senses saw it immediately. What frightened you more was the fact you were not scared of it. The thought of him being close made your body heat up from some depth that had been untouched. They were married, you intoned. They were married to one another, no less. 

“What would be even better, though,” Bucky continued, his tone impish. “Is if you told us the second idea.”

“Oranges and reds–fiery colours to bring attention to the mahogany wood and dark stain,” you said in one breath. Nerves had started to make your stomach roil and flutter with butterflies. As you stared at your hands while breathing shallowly, a tattooed hand rested over your fingers, effectively stopping your bad habit of picking at the skin. “I-”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, squeezing your hands. “You’re alright. It’s cute that you're so shy, but trust us, you’re okay. If we are comin’ on too strong for you, we will stop.”

The world stopped. Time froze, your place in the expansive universe suddenly too much to comprehend. “Coming on too strong–?” you asked hoarsely, unable to take in the words. “Are you- You two are flirting with me?”

There was a chuckle from the seat across from you, and you looked at Steve sharply. A bright smile was on his face, one of which conveyed affection, not patronisation. “Yeah, we are, doll. Do you want us to stop?”

You blinked, looked at Bucky, then back to Steve. “But you’re married!”

“We are, happily so,” Bucky said, and he took his hand away. You suddenly missed the warmth of it. “And we know what we want. We were in your shop today for more than just flowers, sweetheart. I wasn’t lying when I said we’ve been curious–a pretty Petal like you, clever and downright beautiful, both generous and kind… Well, we were intrigued.”

The words flushed your system and left you hollow with shock, akin to an overwhelming giddiness. “I don’t understand,” you breathed, staring at Bucky. “You want- What do you want?”

“We want to take you on a date. If you are interested, and want to,” Bucky offered gently. “You can say no, and we won’t think any different of you, don’t you worry ‘bout that. Like hell would we skip on your skills as a florist, and we’d still be friends. If you wanted to be, of course.”

“A date?” 

“A date,” Steve affirmed. “We know polyamorous relationships aren’t everyone’s cup of tea-” 

Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You sound ridiculous saying that, Stevie.”

“Shut up, punk,” Steve sighed. Then he looked at you again. “As I was saying, yes, it’s not everyone’s favourite. We just- We became smitten with you, doll. So, if you would be interested, we’d like to take you on a date.”

“Oh.” 

The world, still tilted on its axis, started spinning once more, taking your insides with it as it moved. You blinked rapidly, and your hands curled and relaxed on your knees. 

Truly, the offer didn’t scare you, per se. It was the reality shaking thought that not one, but two men found you intriguing enough that they wanted to take you out on a date–a traditional date.

A truly old fashioned notion, you thought. 

Their presence seemed to bring out your reckless, wild side, and you took a deep breath. They said they would still care for you as a friend, even if you said no, and it comforted your heart and screaming, anxious mind. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky asked, brow raised. “Do you want some time-”

“I’ll go on a date with you two,” you interrupted before you could stop yourself. “I would love that.”

Bucky beamed at you while Steve rose from his seat to lean down and kiss the crown of your head. “Perfect, doll. Why don’t you do both of your ideas, and we can pick ‘em up when you’re done?”

Feeling emboldened, you grinned up at Steve and then at Bucky. “I will have them done in a few hours. Walk me back?”

“You heard the lady,” Bucky murmured, his eyes slightly wide at your eagerness. “Someone’s excited to get to work.”

“Well, you have me motivated,” you explained with a shrug and a shy smile. “I won’t let you two down.”

Steve shook his head and helped you up before leading you to the door. “You could never let us down, honey–remember that.” 

The two of them walked you back to your shop, opening and holding the door for you. “Such gentlemen,” you teased quietly. They only winked. 

“There you are,” Wanda called happily as she rounded the counter to greet you. “Have you organised a theme?”

“Two,” you supplied, chipper. Wanda’s brows raised at your enthusiasm. “I’m going to be doing a light arrangement and a fiery toned one, too. It’ll set the colours off nicely, I think.” 

Wanda nodded and grabbed your hand. “You’re the expert,” she said, leading you towards the cooler room. “See you boys later!”

“No, wait,” you rushed, looking back at Steve and Bucky as you pulled away from Wanda’s grip. “Can–can I have your number? So I can text you when they’re done–?”

The smiles on their faces could have made the toughest rose bloom, you swore. Once their numbers were in your phone, they walked from the store, arrangements in hand for their mothers. 

As you worked on the bouquets while Wanda minded the store, you thought long and hard about their proposition. They were grown men. It was not like you were dealing with the decisions and minds of growing boys – marriage was a big deal, and opening it to a stranger was even more risky. Did they truly want to risk all of what they had built? 

Thoughts spiralled, and your mind whirled with all the possibilities – rational thought long cast out of the equation. Until, “You keep pulling a face like that, babe, and it’ll get stuck.”

You looked up to see Wanda standing in the doorway, hair tied up and a soft, kind smile on her face. Her eyes were bright, glinting in the way that told you she knew something was amiss. “What’s got you all tied up, love?”

The stem of the rose was smooth against your fingers, and you considered the thorns that adorned it – helpfully comparing it to your current predicament. “I just, I don’t know. It seems so sudden–doesn’t it? Them just waltzing in here–”

“Hold on.” Wanda glanced back to the store and then stepped into the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “You will not second guess this. I have seen those two make heart eyes at you for the longest time.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, astonished. 

“I meant what I said,” Wanda said a little too easily, and she shrugged. “Have you not seen how those puppies look for you as they walk by the store window almost every single day?”

Your mouth parted in shock. Had they? “No…”

Wanda shook her head slowly, a slow smile pulling the corner of her lips up. It wasn’t a condescending expression, but rather, one of an older sister who cared beyond words for the one they loved. “Babe, you… You have to give this a shot. Give them a chance. I do not know them well, but I know they are kind, and gentle–gentle giants, if you will.” 

A strong feeling of ease settled in your gut and over your mind, cancelling out the cacophony of nerves that screamed and pitched their fits. If Wanda, the one you trusted the most, could see something, maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it. 

You looked at the bouquets before you, one of angelic and pure white to sunny, happy yellow; the other bright, cheerful orange and fiery, passionate red. It was symbolistic of the clash in your mind; resemblances to the possible opportunities. White for the softness of your soul, and reds to Bucky and Steve’s desire. 

“Alright,” you said aloud, voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll do it. I- I want this.”

Wanda grinned, a blindingly prideful smile. “‘Atta girl. Now, get to it!”

A few hours later, as the sun had started to begin its descent, you stood in the back room of your shop filled with awe. The bouquets had turned out perfect – each petal and leaf in place. You snapped a few photos with your phone and then sent a text to Bucky’s number, asking if they would come around after they closed up. 

Your ringtone made you jump in place, and Bucky’s name flashed across the screen. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky greeted, the low hum of a tattoo machine in the background with the lull of quiet music. “Did you finish the flowers?”

“Yeah, I- I did, do you think you could–?”

There was a huff of breath, a chuckle, and then a sudden yell of “Babe!” before another voice came through the speaker. 

“We’ll be round in about twenty minutes–that okay, doll?” Steve asked.

“That’s perfect,” you replied, looking at the clock. “I’ll be here–I’ll close up, so just knock when you get here.”

“Alright, see you soon.” The line clicked, and you put your phone back in your pocket. 

Closing the shop went quickly, and after you had said goodnight to Wanda, you were on your own in the office, waiting as the minutes went by until you heard a knock on the store’s door. “Coming!” 

Steve and Bucky were waiting on the sidewalk, huddled in coats as they watched you walk to the door. “Hey, come in, come in,” you rushed, stepping aside. “Thank you for coming and picking them up so late.”

“It’s nothin’, sweetheart,” Bucky yawned. “If we’re honest–we wanted to see you before we headed home.”

You smiled and looked at the floor, unable to look him in the eye after such sincerity. There was suddenly a hand gripping your chin gently, and you automatically moved in tandem with it until you were staring into Steve’s handsome face. “That we did.”

Blinking rapidly, you pulled back with a shaky laugh. “Did you guys have a good rest of your day?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, looking around happily. “Normal shit with walk-ins and then we got started on a back piece. Poor bastard had to tap out.”

“We warned him.” Bucky shrugged. “Not like the poor fool didn’t know what he was gettin’ into. Anyway–how about those flowers?”

You led the two of them to the counter, where you heard two sharp intakes of breath as the arrangements came into view. They were extraordinary, and you had gone above and beyond for them – using flowers and buds that were yet to bloom to fill the spaces, each and every one placed with care and consideration. All of the colours complimented; a true masterpiece. 

“Holy shit,” Steve gasped, and Bucky rushed forward to look at the bundles closer. “Petal– look at them!”

“You are amazing,” Bucky said quietly, his fingers brushing the petals of a white rose. “Absolutely fuckin’ amazing, look at this. You did this.”

“Oh, my gosh,” you whispered, hiding behind your hands. “It’s just two bouquets-”

Steve looked at you, aghast. “No.” 

Both of them stepped towards you, and the next thing you knew, you were between them, squished to their chests and their arms around you. “Don’t you dare discount yourself, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “Be proud of yourself–it’s not a bad thing to be proud of what you create. And what you created is fuckin’ stunning.”

Many emotions swirled through your mind until you sniffled, pushing back against the burn of tears in your eyes. “O-Okay, thank you,” you whispered. Steve pulled away from the embrace to look at the flowers again, his face slack with awe, and Bucky held you tighter to his chest.

You felt a kiss at your temple suddenly. “Don’t you listen to those voices, alright? We’re louder and you’re gonna learn to love what you do, no matter what.” Unable to answer, you just nodded jerkily, wiping your eyes. Bucky’s thumb brushed your cheek, and he smiled softly as he pulled back. 

“Why don’t we get dinner?” Steve asked suddenly, and you looked at him. “This isn’t our date, Petal, don’t you worry. Let’s just get dinner. How do you get home–drive, walk?”

“I walk-” You tried, but Steve shook his head. 

“Not anymore, can’t have our Petal walking home on your own, okay?”

Ordinarily, you would have grimaced and grumbled at the commanding nature of such a statement, but somehow, this didn’t feel out of place. They cared, they just wanted you safe, you reasoned. “Okay, but Wanda normally walks with me, so–”

“That’s fine, we’ve got you both,” Bucky said simply, as though giving you both a lift was, in fact, not a big deal. 

“If you’re sure,” you said quietly, and Bucky squeezed your shoulder.

“Let’s go, I’m starved,” Steve said loudly, almost obnoxiously. Bucky rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. “Don’t start with me, babe. You know how I get when I’m hungry.”

Bucky looked at you. “Yeah, he becomes more of a pain in my ass.”

“Literally,” Steve chortled, and you gasped in quiet shock as Bucky hit Steve on the shoulder.

“We are in polite company, you fucker!” Bucky shoved Steve, and the two of them bickered as they arranged the flowers in their arms to better carry them out of the store. 

Finally, Bucky huffed and stuck his tongue out at Steve. “Let’s get these in the shop, then we can go to that diner.”

The three of you wandered out of your store, bouquets in hand, and Bucky took them into the shop. “How about here?” he wondered aloud, placing the red bouquet on the table, and adjusting it slightly. 

You strode forward and adjusted it again, turning the vases and humming to yourself as you righted it. When you were satisfied, you stepped back and nodded. “How ‘bout that?”

Steve hummed approvingly as he placed the white arrangement on the reception desk – perfectly, you may add. Bucky looked between you and the flowers once, twice, then, “You’re decorating from now on, sweetheart.”

“If you say so.”

“We know so.” Steve’s hand was warm on your shoulder, and you briefly glanced down at the intricate designs that covered the back of his hand, the swirls stopping at the gold wedding and engagement bands. He flexed his hand and raised a brow. “What is it, doll?”

You considered your answer, and then ploughed on. “How long have you been married?”

“Feels like our whole lives at this point,” Bucky answered before Steve could open his mouth. “I’ve been with this punk since, what–college? Before that, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We’ve been partners for a lifetime, and all those before-”

“Don’t go gettin’ all poetic on me, honey,” Bucky hushed, and he kissed Steve on the lips, then the cheek. “You said you were starved.”

“Can’t I be soft on my love?” 

Bucky laughed and shook his head. “You’re a punk–c’mon, Petal, let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along – it was hard to ignore how warm his hand was or how your hand fit so perfectly in his. “And, just so you know, we’ve been married for nearly a decade now.”

“Wow,” you breathed, impressed. Neither gave the impression of being much older than yourself, but you supposed they were youthful in attitude, and that was one thing they had in abundance.

“So, what about that old diner on the corner–?”

“Yes!” you cried, brightening at the mention of your favourite spot to eat. “I love it there.”

Steve came up behind you and took hold of your other hand. “Alright, that’s settled then–off we go.”

They led you to a sleek, luxurious looking car parked a few feet from Quartet’s Tattoo. Bucky opened the back door for you, and you slipped into the leather seats with an awestruck gasp. The interior was immaculate and, for lack of a better word, rich. “Whoa–”

“We figured rather than letting that money sit and collect dust, we thought we should spend some of it,” Steve explained as he turned the ignition, and all the screens along the dash lit up. “Bucky spent more on his bike.”

You quickly looked at Bucky, who grinned proudly. “You have a bike?”

“Sure do, sweetheart. I’ll take you out one day,” he promised with another wink. 

Steve sighed. “That’s enough, you. Don’t want her passing out before dinner, at least.”

Bucky snorted a laugh, and Steve backed the car up before you were on your way to the diner. For dinner, with the two men that had asked you out on a date. The two married men. Wow, you thought to yourself. 

There was a slither of hesitance, but it was nothing next to the bounding hope of your heartbeat. For too long had you been shy and hesitant to take life by the reins, to take control and make something for yourself – your shop being the only proof that you could indeed take risks. 

That would end now, you intoned, promising yourself. Maybe this would be okay, maybe it would work. 

You could only try. 

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #stucky x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #stucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #stucky fanfiction #stucky imagine #stucky fluff #allcapsbingo2023 #rookthorne's works

[darsynia]

Shipping and Handling | Ch 2: Urgency

(Stucky x Reader slow burn, Steve x Reader fast burn, Friendship all around)

SERIES MASTERLIST | STORY MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: There’s a chance you and Steve aren’t the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what’s happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head– not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes. Length/Warnings: 3,028 / sexual situations Prompt: @allcapsbingo April Adoptable: Sex Pollen ((I know, right??))

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreblogsfics @hails270105 @venusfalling @zzz000eee @eralen @mrsevans90 @myinconnelly1 @thorinsmistress @cjand10 @wckedheart @samfreakingwinchester @blind-devil @sanniegirl1214 @karimac @dispatchvampire

Excerpt:

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and he murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

Chapter Two: Urgency

In retrospect, inviting you over for dinner has clearly made things more complicated, not less. Bucky had figured you’d show up, they’d order food, and then the three of you would have an uncomfortable but necessary conversation (one he’d get to enjoy observing, which would make up for the awkwardness).

Instead, he’s barely holding in his amusement at the way things have devolved into an R-rated I Love Lucy episode.

In a strained voice, you observe, “The connections are hopelessly stretched. You’ll probably need a whole new stove.”

Bucky just nods.

“It’s actually kind of impressive, the way the metal crocheted with the cotton in this tea towel withstood the stress like that.”

He clears his throat to cover his need to laugh, but the sound ends on a wheeze.

“Damnit, what?”

“You practically knelt down in front of him. Take pity, will you Doll?” 

Bucky only realizes the endearment after he’s said it aloud, and to minimize the damage, he clenches his jaw and twists his lips into an inconsequential smile.

It doesn’t work.

“You’ve never called me that before,” you say, your lovely eyes lit with surprise and something else, something he shouldn’t be looking for. 

Gruffly, he says, “Really?” It’s a shut-down tactic, because people are much less likely to elaborate on something they’re uncertain over. He maximizes its effect by leaning down to examine the oven door, which is indeed fucked.  

“Really. I liked it, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft. “Looks like you’ll be needing these menus, I doubt the stove is kitchen rated with the door off! Come on, I’m sure Steve is going to be hungry when he shows back up.”

Are… you joking about what Steve’s doing in his room right now? Bucky lunges over to block your way out of the kitchen. The shirt you’re wearing smells like the detergent he and Steve use, and something about smelling Steve on you sends heat straight to his groin.

He really should’ve punched Banner, too.

“What?”  

“Are you sure you want everything out in the open?” You look at him, uncomprehending, and Bucky’s a hypocrite, because there’s no way any of what he’s been thinking about lately can be in the open.

You’re shaking your head at him. “I don’t--”

He grips the doorframe so tightly it gives a little under his metal hand. “Steve is jerking off in there. He’d only do that while we’re waiting out here because he has to. If he comes out here and you make a comment like that, he’ll feel guilty for--”

“--weeks. Maybe forever. Shit.” you interrupt. He pushes off from the door to let you pass, and you continue; “Banner seemed certain that the… intensity was because we’d spent those two weeks apart, but this is--” You break off and drop the pile of menus on the dining room table with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m really worried it’s going to be untenable, but then I remember all the people out there this could happen to, you know?”

Bucky nods toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, where Steve is probably touching himself right now. “Is that the ‘untenable’ you’re talking about?”

Your face wrenches in embarrassment, eyes closed, and you nod.

Because he doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal without some amusement at his own expense, he says, “There are two bedrooms, if you need to borrow mine? You know where it is.”

Your eyes pop open, and you suck in a breath, tightening the blue shirt enough that he can see your nipples are hard. Then you smack him hard on the right arm.

“The look on your face! Stop fake-leering at me, asshole, I was already worried about that!”

That was close. “Worried about what?”

“Well I got to thinking, it’s not like the combined pheromones are inert, right? So anyone who spends time around the two of us could get hit with them. Hell, maybe even the solo ones we were making might be able to--” You retreat to the other side of the table like you need the fortitude of distance. “You’ve still been able to achieve-- I mean… Have you?”

“Roll that back. You think that stuff could turn me as horny as the two of you?”

You wince. “Promise me you’ll tell me if anything changes? For science?”

“I promise,” Bucky says. He is affected, but nothing whatsoever has changed.

“And you can still…”

He raises his eyebrows and pretends not to understand.

“Bucky!” Your exasperation is not a deterrent at all.

“Just spit it out.”

“Can you come?”

He cannot resist. “Come where?”

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you!” Instead of stomping off to cool down, you march right up to him and grab the loose sides of the dress shirt he’s wearing on top of his tee. “I am asking you if you can orgasm, you monumental dickhead!”

Maybe the pheromones you and Steve are emitting are doing something, because a number of inappropriate things leap immediately to mind.

He chooses the least offensive of the five. “Pretty sure I can, but I’m willing to go try right now, if it’s that important to you.”

Steve speaks up from the hallway before you can vocalize the affectionate fury Bucky sees written all over your face. “Everything okay?” 

Steve’s hairline is wet, like he’d stepped into the bathroom to splash his face with water, and his own shirt is untucked. By now, Bucky’s used to steeling himself against his attraction to Steve, but he’s not used to being so close to someone who can figure out what he’s thinking before he shoves it away. Your hands tighten on his shirt, and when he looks back at you, there’s understanding in your eyes.

Understanding and guilt.

Carefully, you reach up to adjust Bucky’s collar as if that’s what you’d been doing all along, patting at his chest maternally before stepping away. “Starting to think you had Steve help you dress before you’d show up at the restaurant for those 40’s nights,” you tease.

Shit. Shit. Are you trying to-- Shit.

Across the room, Steve’s body language is stiff, and he adopts a false joviality that has Bucky screaming in his own head at the multitude of misunderstandings.

“Are you kidding? He snuck out! Probably didn’t want me to ask why he was wearing all that leather on a weeknight.” A second later, Steve waves his hand in embarrassment and comes over to the table. “That came out like I was implying he dresses in leather on the weeken--”

“Stop!” Bucky groans. “I’m starving and the two of you are nuts. Pick something and order, would you?” He walks off toward the window and hopes that you and Steve will mix pheromones so much you’ll completely forget what you think you just saw.

The need to stare at each other (and feed him) seems to be enough to preoccupy the two of you. Bucky looks out at the bustle of rush-hour traffic and tries to tamp down his panic. Of all the struggles he’d faced in the past year, he’d never have picked ‘caring too much about his closest friends’ as the one to give him the most trouble. It’s an unfair thought on its face, because the burden of all his other shit has been lifted by having you and Steve around.

It’s not just caring, though, and as much as he wants to lie to himself, it’s not just physical, either. If there was any way to reassure you about the pheromones, he would, but if Bucky’s honest with himself, he’s glad you’re worried about that. It gives him cover.

He sighs. A thought that had occurred to him a few nights ago pops back up. To have friends is one thing, to want someone is another thing, but to know better than to act on it? To step aside for the sake of the people he cares most about in the world… that’s a sign that he’s more human than weapon. It’s cold comfort, but he’s used to the cold.

The knowledge of what Steve had been doing and why is burning through your insides. It looks like it’s burning through him too, but from embarrassment, since he’s just worked through his other discomfort.

Steve clears his throat and reaches over to scatter some of the menus. “Any preferences?”

“Let me see what we’ve got,” you say, and he nods, loosing a lock of wet hair that flops onto his forehead.

It suddenly occurs to you the reason why it’s wet-- he went to wash his hands, and just in case that wasn’t enough, he washed his face, too. Because he’s a gentleman, despite what it was he was doing. You feel such a rush of pure affection for him that it shakes your ability to stand. To cover it, you drag out the chair you’re standing near and fall into it, reaching for the brochures.

“Do you, ah…” 

He falls silent, and when you look up, he looks supremely uncomfortable. You lift your brows.

“Do you need to…”

You are completely baffled-- until you aren’t. “Oh, God, thank you, but no. I’ll--  I’ll manage.”

His nod is anxious, so you hand over the menu you had your eye on and do your very best not to worry that you should have taken him up on it. After all, you weren’t able to change your underpants, but if there’s a world where you have to ask Captain America if he can smell your arousal, you’d rather just disappear into the NYC sewers.

Dinner goes surprisingly well. You already knew that Bucky and Steve got on well, and over the course of the evening, you can tell that your rapport with Bucky is reassuring to Steve. Instead of making you uncomfortable, the simmering heat you’re afflicted with seems to keep you on your toes, a constant reminder to be careful about what you say and do, lest you awaken the same banked fire in Steve. 

You let the two men run the conversation, and at times they almost fall over each other to share anecdotes. When you’re ready to leave, you step away to use the bathroom and come out to Bucky and Steve deep in a serious discussion, almost an argument. Maybe it’s your full, happy stomach, maybe it’s your sense of impishness, but instead of alerting them to your presence in the room, you sneak over to the door and make it to the elevator before Steve catches up to you.

“Making me feel like a failed host,” he says, jogging over to hold his hand over the just-opened doors.

“Not at all,” you smile. “You two looked like you were having an important conversation.”

Steve’s expression turns sheepish. “I was trying to persuade him to walk you out.” 

“Let me guess, he was doing the same?”

He nods. The elevator protests the doors remaining open, and Steve murmurs some kind of command that changes the red color to green.

“You could escort me down?”

“That’s probably a bad idea,” Steve says solicitously. There’s a light in his eyes that sends a thrill along your spine, and you almost wish you could push him to change his mind-- but then you remember how important it is to figure out what the hell Mistress is doing to the many people exposed to it every day. Encouraging Steve Rogers to take an elevator ride so you can stand near him and wish he would kiss you is probably not furthering the cause of science.

“Good night then, Sir Knight,” you tease, dipping into a curtsey. Your skirt is tight along your thighs, but you’re able to use the tails of your borrowed blue shirt to aid in the look.

When you lift your head, the elevator doors are closing, and Steve is nowhere in sight. It’s not a big deal-- you’ll be seeing each other once a day for the foreseeable future anyway.

Not that you’re looking forward to that, or anything.

Steve and Bucky had agreed to show up at the performance the next day, to satisfy the proximity requirement. As expected, the 90’s crowd is different from the 40’s one, but the energy is high, and you end the night on a literal high note. The plan is for the two of them to come over after the set to spend a few minutes physically close by, but as usual, the band is crowded by admirers who ‘just want to chat a few minutes.’

You can see that Bucky’s temper is flaring by the way Steve’s fingertips whiten on his friend’s shoulder, so you try to hurry. The last person to push through to speak to you is carrying two of the restaurant’s signature ‘flagon’ beer glasses, and he enthusiastically thrusts one into your hands before you can stop him. The action sloshes the liquid over onto the back of your hand.

Before you can formulate a polite refusal, the restaurant’s bar bouncer Benji throws a collegial arm around the man’s shoulder and guides him away.

“Saved a life, right there,” Steve says in a low voice beside you. You actually slump over into him for a few seconds in relief, feeling him initially stiffen at first contact before his arm comes around to support you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, lifting your hand up to lick off the alcohol. 

To your surprise, Steve spins you the few steps out into the dance floor. The ballad currently playing means that the couples around you are slow-dancing in the ‘modern’ style, hands on hips or shoulders, swaying close with little to no artistry. His hand at your wrist is an inexorable band as he positions your palm flat on his chest, his other hand grasping the small of your back in defiance of convention.

“Okay, clearly you have panicked,” you say, blinking up at him. Your other hand is holding onto the lapel of his suit jacket as if for dear life, because holy god, the man sends your senses reeling.

“Inside pocket, Mistress test tabs. Swab your hand,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your steps falter, and you nod. Testing has become second-nature at this point, so you don’t even need to check the box for the color key. 

“Orange,” Steve says, when he sees the strip. His hand at your back sweeps you closer. Orange is more than the yellow or green of faint traces. 

The drink was dosed.

“On it,” Bucky husks as he brushes past the two of you, plucking the test strip from your fingers on the way. Because of Steve’s close stance, you’re helpless to stop him-- a point Steve makes very clear by spreading his fingers at your back. The possessiveness of the action works like napalm in your bloodstream, but the pressure of each fingertip against your skin sends a very clear message: you may not follow.

There’s napalm, and then there’s napalm.

Fixing your eyes on his chest, and with a bright smile hiding that your teeth are clenched, you hiss, “Steve, if we weren’t in my workplace, I would be pitching a fit right now. You are not in charge of what I do or say, do you understand me?”

The pained sound from his throat drags your eyes up to his. Steve looks stricken, and you realize you’d offered the man who tried to deliberately drug you with Mistress more grace than the one who dearly wishes he hadn’t. Your apology dusts in your mouth when he starts speaking.

“I couldn’t protect you when it counted. I can’t protect you from me. I will damn well protect you from everything else!”

As he speaks, Steve moves the two of you off of the dance floor and back past the bar into the alcove Benji usually stands in. He’s shaking, and you’re overwhelmed, the fear of what you’ve just dodged only prickling the edges of your consciousness. The only thing you can think of to defuse the moment is Bucky’s gripe about Steve’s reticence for swearing aloud.

At the very last second, you realize you can’t use the phrasing you’d meant to, because this man’s mother has been dead a very very long time.

“You kiss your lovers with that mouth?”

Time stands still for a long second as you regard each other. Then, Steve’s head tips to the side, eyes locking onto your mouth. His lips part, and the sigh he releases seems to release the angry tension he’d been holding since pulling you close in the first place.

“You tell me,” he whispers, releasing you and holding his hands up like a man being held hostage. In a way he is. You both are.

You can’t recall wanting to kiss someone more than you do right now. To hell with absolutely everything else! you think to yourself, reaching your hand up toward the side of his face.

The wetness on that hand reminds you, and you draw back. “Shit. Shit, Steve! Mistress!”

He looks at your lips again, then your hand, then your chest, and then dashes off into the crowd of people only to reappear again impossibly quickly with a damp washcloth from the bar. Without asking, he scrubs at your hand-- but you bite your lip at the sensations. Even that small amount of the drug is affecting you, having soaked in while you were distracted by the undercurrent of desire you always feel around Steve.

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice low. 

He makes a little noise in response, then puts a hand on each of your shoulders. “We need to get to Banner. If what I’m feeling is related to the Mistress in your system--”

“Oh God,” you whisper.

Steve’s grip on you tightens, and he snaps his head back like he’d been about to lean in for a kiss before his instincts kicked in.

Your instincts are affected by Mistress, but you don’t give a shit. You reach up with both hands and cup his face. “In the cab.”

“Stark sent a car, actually. I sent a distress call.”

“Even better.”

To be continued...

#allcapsbingo2023 #stucky x reader #stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers smut #stucky smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x you #stucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #sex pollen #romance #humor #steve rogers imagine #stucky x you imagine #bucky barnes imagine #happy endings (all meanings implied)

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

hey idk if ur requests are open but i might as well try lol. is there any way you could make a stucky fic about if reader had a bad argument with her mother on the phone and reader breaks down and cries. maybe reader is home alone when it happens and the boys are at work, so when the boys come home they find her crying in their bedroom. (maybe the reader gets extreme lows quickly and the boys know that she has a history of hurting herself in these situations so they take extra good care of her). but they comfort her, tell her why she doesnt deserve how her mom treats her, tell her how much they love her. just angst w her mom in the begining and the rest is fluff. lol sorry im rly fucked up.

MATILDA- STUCKY

Pairing: CEO! Stucky x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: TW TW!!! self harm mentioned, yelling, crying, reader going through some very hard feelings, but other then that angst... fluff<3

Notes: hi. this fic is very personal to me. very personal. i have felt like this many times, and some things that have been said to reader have been said to me. so to whoever sent this, you are not fucked up. we are human, and we are hurting. we are coping and we are trying. and to whoever else feels remotely like this, know i understand. and im trying too. bucky and steve are here for you, and so am i.

Her voice still echoed in your head, the raging, strident sound bouncing off the corners of your brain like a pinball machine.

It hurt.

The endless, bottomless pit of hatred she threw you in, drowning you.

It hurt, badly.

You loved your mother, you truly did. She had raised you, read your bedtime stories in your rocking chair, and held your hand across the street.

But she was emotionally absent. She didn't realise that her words hurt. They hurt- a substantial amount.

The phone was limp in your hand, the line dead as she had ended the call a few minutes prior, screaming at you. You didn't even know about what anymore.

You tried to zone it out. But some of her phrases, they stuck out.

You're a disgrace to have as a daughter. Your father would be so disappointed with you. If you go down that hole again, I’m not helping you again Y/N. I’m done. I’m sick and tired of your shit.

You felt the salty tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you slumped against the pillows, placing the phone back on its stand. Hands seemed to wrap around your throat as the air was stolen from your lungs, sobs racking through your entire body.

Your phone was thrown across the sheets somewhere, now buzzing with texts from Steve and Bucky. You told them you’d let them know how things went with your mother.

They knew in advance it would not go well. They always did.

Some time had passed, and you knew their frantic texts were because they worried about you. You couldn't find the strength to answer, instead- curling into a ball, letting the tears smear your mascara down your heated cheeks.

Fuck you mom. Fuck. You.

You weren't sure how much time went by as you cried into your pillow, clinging to the blankets like it was your lifeline.

It was, in a way.

Bucky and Steve weren't here, so the crocheted blanket they had made for you was the only form of comfort you had.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You kept silent.

“Doll?” the gentle voice called from behind the door, now partly creaked open as Bucky poked his head in. You sniffled, looking over at his gentle stare from the door, watching as he allowed himself in, Steve following in.

“We brought cinnamon buns from the bakery on the corner. The one we normally go to on Fridays?”

You nodded, watching as Steve set the baked goods on your dresser, him and Bucky slowly making their way over to you, as if you were a frightened animal. They knew how vulnerable you were in this stage, and they didn't want to scare you to make it worse.

You shuffled up, sitting crossed-legged as they crouched down beside the bed, their work uniforms still on. Their ties were out of place, top buttons undone, hair slightly messy.

They must have rushed here from the office, you realised, the guilt dawning on you all at once.

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered, hand coming up to cup your jaw, rubbing little soothing circles to help ease your tears.

“She was cruel again.” you croaked out, watching as Steve gently twisted your arm towards him. Your scars shown faintly in the dim light, their faded marks scattered across your wrist. No new marks lay in their place.

You couldn't help but notice Steve's little sigh of relief, kissing your wrist tenderly. “I’m so sorry for worrying you guys. I just- I couldn't-” you broke out in tears, the full circle coming round.

Bucky and Steve knew about your past, you had told them of your old coping mechanisms.

Unhealthy mechanisms.

They had helped coaxed you out of your self-harming ways, with love and patience. Something you had needed, for a long, long time. It had been some time now since you had last done anything to yourself, but of course Steve and Bucky wouldn't have known that.

You had ghosted them, and left them high and dry. They knew talks with your mother could trigger some episodes, and you couldn't imagine how worried they must have been.

They wrapped their arms around you, and you leaned into their embrace, the comfort you had craved. “Shh, shh doll it's okay. It's okay, deep breaths okay?” Bucky cooed softly, instructing you to take a breath with him.

You followed suit, feeling the air rush through your lungs, soothing you like a drop of cool water in a desert as you allowed your heart rate to slow.

“We were just worried princess, that's all. We just didn't want to see our precious doll hurting.” Steve explained, kissing your tears away.

“You’re not mad?” you hiccuped, worried they'd feel coming to see you was a burden.

No Y/N. You’re not a burden, or else they wouldn't have come. You quickly reminded yourself, attempting to train your brain out of thinking negatively.

That was your mother's job. Not yours.

The boys could see the gears in your brain turning, giving you a small smile of encouragement. “Of course we’re not mad. We love you more than anything doll.” Bucky cooed, brushing the last tear you shed with his thumb.

“It's our job to comfort you, princess. Just like how it's our job to protect you.” The words he had once told you many months ago played in your mind, like a broken record. A good broken record, one you never wanted to stop playing.

It's our job to protect you, even if that danger is yourself right now princess. It's okay. We’ll get there eventually, together. One small step at a time.

“I just don't want you guys to feel like you need to come every time after my mom calls. I don't want you to miss anything important.”

“We want to come.” Steve reminded you gently, soft blue eyes yearning with love and compassion. “We always want to be with you doll. Even when you're having a harder time. You'd come to us if we were feeling down, wouldn't you?”

You nodded quickly, no hesitation in your mind whatsoever. You'd come to them at beck and call. You'd travel through volcanos, swim oceans to get to them, if that's what they needed.

“So it works the same with us honey. You need us, we come. Even if you don't call us, we come. And if you don't want us here- we leave and give you space, whatever you need. Simple as that. Whatever you want.” Bucky reminded you, knowing it was sometimes hard for you to accept love from others.

That it was hard to remember you deserved worth, the same as they did.

The same as anyone did.

You nodded, smiling softly as Steve grabbed another blanket from the bed, draping it across your shoulders. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You gnawed on your lip, thinking. Thinking about what you wanted, what you needed.

“No. I don't think I do.” you decided, wanting to forget it ever happened.

“And that's perfectly okay. But please know you do not deserve how that woman treats you. Whatever she said to you, whatever names she called you, it's a fucking lie.” Bucky reassured you, kissing your hand tenderly.

“We’re proud of you princess. We’re so proud of how far you've come, and that you stayed strong today after that nightmare. It's over now, you're safe.” Steve whispered, his hand stroking your hair soothingly as he sat beside you on the bed.

“I love you guys. Thank you.” you whispered, feeling a million times better than you did a few minutes prior, their calming words and aura soothing the sadness lodged deep in your soul. Bucky answered this with a kiss, his lips soft against yours, tasting of sugar as he told you all the things he needed to with his lips.

You're welcome. I love you doll. More than anything, I love you.

“Do you wanna do anything princess?” Steve asked, watching as your cat, Alpine trotted in your room, meowing. You smiled as she trotted up to Bucky, rubbing her body against his leg, purring as he leaned down to scratch her head.

Bucky was Alpines favourite, and she made this very, very obvious.

“Can we watch movies and eat cinnamon buns?”

“Warmed up for forty-five seconds, and a spoon on the side?” Bucky asked, already making his way over to where the sticky buns lay. You laughed, reaching down to pet the white ball of fur now curled around your feet, begging for attention.

He remembered. Of course he remembered.

“Yes, but-” you looked over to the clock that sat on your bedside table, its red digits glowing 10:13.

“Don't you guys have work? I thought you two had a meeting and had to stay later.”

They just laughed, the sound making butterflies flutter in your tummy, your heart tripling three sizes.

“Don't you remember? We own the place angel.” 

#stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x oc #stucky x y/n #stucky x female!reader #stucky x f!reader #stucky fanfiction #stucky fluff #stucky fic #stucky smut #stucky angst #stucky and reader smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x smut #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky fic #bucky imagine #james barnes x y/n #james barnes fluff #james barnes x reader #james barnes #james buchanan barnes

[jen-with-a-pen]

Hello! Welcome to my OFFICIAL Masterlist!

Here you'll find links to my written works and other odds and ends. I hope you find what you're looking for– and if not, feel free to drop in a prompt, some inspo, or an idea you think you'd like to see! My ask box is always open and I try to answer any and all messages as soon as possible.

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Dirty Dishes

Bucky x F!Reader (CATWS/CACW time periods)

You and Bucky share an apartment in Bucharest. Some nights are fine, others are tough. Nights with storms are especially tough.

WARNINGS: Angst, Bucky having flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks

18+ Impressions On the Inside of Your Thigh

Beefy!Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x F!RanchHand!Reader

Head Ranch Hand James "Bucky" Barnes has had a very, very long day. Only way to remedy it is to make you squeal.

WARNINGS: grinding, pet names/name-calling, making out, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving)

→ Fan Favorite on AO3!

18+ FOXHUNT

WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

Not only has HYDRA successfully executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

WARNINGS: being hunted, implied non-con elements, violence, cursing, blood, bruising, beating, passing out, forced nudity

18+ Chains Around My Feet

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; established relationship/friendship and most of work is told out of Reader's POV.

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn't in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives– but what is rescue if not relief from the suffering?

PLEASE SEE POST FOR FULL LIST OF WARNINGS major warnings: graphics horror elements, blood + gore, whump, hurt and absolutely ZERO comfort, major character betrayal, major character death, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

18+ FILTHY, IMPETUOUS SOULS

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

Honeysuckle

Bucky x F!Reader

The adventures of one James "Bucky" Barnes and our reader, Honeysuckle, mixed with a lot of mutual pining, with some help from Sam 'Wingman' Wilson. No real story line, just a mix of one shots that might end up loosely connected one day.

WARNINGS: mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, slow burn, tooth-rotting fluff, maybe a little angst, established friendship, yes this takes place in the Tower

This House Had Swing In It - Coming Soon/Being Rewritten

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL - Coming Soon

FALLEN STARS - Coming Soon

If You Go, I Go

CAFTA!Closeted!Pre-Serum!Steve x CAFTA!Closeted!Sergeant!Bucky Barnes

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

WARNINGS: angst, loneliness, pining, closeted feelings, messing with canon

Dancing in the Kitchen

slightly possessive!Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Best Friend!F!Reader

Tony dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together again.

WARNINGS: fluff and angst, insecurities, verbal abuse and insults/language, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, emotions™

18+ ALL TIED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW)

Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

general series warnings: frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear

18+ ALL WRAPPED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW) - COMING SOON

The Weight

Modern!Avengers!Stucky

Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, emotional damage/hurt, no comfort, swearing, mentions/desc. of vomiting

Coming Soon

Reading Lists

This House | Honeysuckle | DHEB

Fic Recs | Spicy Fic Recs | Not My Masterlist

OMEGAVERSE

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL

Honeysuckle Vibes

Hurt/Comfort

This House Had Swing In It

This House: The Swing Collection

Tooth-Rotting Fluff

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

@/natrace's Stardust Reblog Challenge Masterlist

@/flordeamatista's Jardin de Poemas Challenge

@/targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

#jen-with-a-pen #jen writes #masterlist #my masterlist #fic list #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #captain america #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #stucky x f!reader #marvel fanfic #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #my fics #the avengers #avengers #alternate universe

[ruckystarnes]

Facebook keeps giving me this ad....

How do they know I've been reading some Stucky x Reader?!

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stucky x f!reader #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader

[lunarbuck]

note: it's pretty much guaranteed that these will all have smut (idk about the first one, but never say never)

If there's something you'd like to see from me but don't see it listed, please please send me an ask!!! My requests are open <3

#jane's writing #wip #wip poll #fic poll #please answer #i need help deciding hehe #bucky barnes x f!reader #rockstar!bucky #college!stucky #stucky x f!reader #dbf!bucky #dbf!bucky x f!reader #our song

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky

Word Count: 2366

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background/minor themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

1. Lemon Cream Tart (with Pistachio Streusel)

“Oh, baby, yes.”

Mary grunts, annoyed that this is still going on.

Her pleasure waned a while ago, nowhere close to orgasm, and she can’t seem to get it back when she’s being fucked this hard. She’s getting too dry now, just wants him to come and have it be over with. 

“Yeah,” she says breathily, canting her hips up against where the guy—Dennis, she thinks it is—is fucking into her. He’s going too fast, pulling out too far,and hardly connecting with her body at all before thrusting again. “Jackrabbit sex,” she calls it in her head.

“Shit, Ugh. M’gonna cum,” MaybeDennis grunts. 

It’s nice to finally hear him talk. He’s been virtually silent this entire time and Mary’s whined and squirmed and panted, wishing that the sex was better and that he’d just fucking say something to her—something low and quiet in her ear, something confident and knowing, maybe putting a hand on her neck at the same time as he—

“Fuck!” he shouts, close to her ear. His thrusts start to stutter, losing their rhythm as he gets close. Mary grips him harder, and moans loudly like she’s getting close too. It makes him come, and she tenses her body and matches his sounds of relief with some of her own. It’s performative and easy to fake, she doesn’t overdo it, and she sounds convincing.

MaybeDennis groans and collapses against her, resting his sweaty forehead on her shoulder for a moment before pulling out. He flops over onto his back, chuckling tiredly and removing the condom. Mary watches him get up from the bed and pad into the bathroom. He’s a good looking guy, with just a little too much fat in the midsection for her taste. But then, she knows she’s overly picky, especially considering the state of her own body.

Beyond the open bathroom door, the toilet flushes, and MaybeDennis peeks his head out from the bathroom. “Hey, you mind if I grab a shower before heading out?”

Mary resists the urge to grimace and smiles tightly instead. “Nope. Go ahead.” She’s just grateful he isn’t asking to spend the night. “Towels are in the closet.”

MaybeDennis smiles. “Thanks.”

After he leaves, Mary gets her vibrator out of the bedside drawer and shoves the extra pillow between her legs, arranging the toy so that it sits against her just so. She doesn’t think of MaybeDennis as she gets herself off. The orgasm feels good but leaves her feeling bereft afterwards. She scowls and wipes the tears from her eyes, feeling just a little pathetic.

Like most other nights, she gets up and goes to her apartment’s little kitchen, grabs the vodka from the freezer and pours herself a glass mixed with diet soda. She winces in relief as the first sip goes down. It’s eight o’clock now. She doesn’t have to be up for work until seven, so that leaves at least another six hours to get drunk and have a nice relaxing evening in. 

It’s her favorite part of the day.

Bucky’s just left the gym after a really intense workout and is feeling pleasantly worn out and relaxed when he decides to try the new coffee shop on a whim. He’s passed it by for months, and when he finally walks through the front doors he’s pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere. There’s a small dessert case next to the register, which he examines while he waits his turn in line. It’s filled with colorful, glossy, artful little pastries that look almost too pretty to eat—almost. He grins as he thinks about what Steve might want.

“Welcome to Angie’s, what can I get for you?”

The greeting sounds mechanical and anything but chipper, and Bucky’s attention shifts to the woman behind the register. He eyes her up and down, noticing both how pretty she is … and how worn down she looks. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and her eyes look red-rimmed. They have faint circles under them. Bucky offers her a sympathetic wince. “Late night?”

She blinks at him, unamused. “Yeah, I guess. Do you know what you want?”

“These pastries all look so good,” he says, trying again for friendly. “What would you recommend?”

“Any of ‘em. They’re all good.”

“Are you sure?” he teases.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” she deadpans. “Since I make ‘em.”

Bucky looks back to her, impressed. “Yeah?” He regards her nametag, sees the little handwritten “Mary,” and thinks, aw, that’s cute. He reins in his reaction. Leaning against the counter, he praises, “Well you’re very talented. They all look like little works of art.” 

(They’re priced that way, too. $8.99 for a shiny little dome thing? Jesus.)

Mary blushes and smiles a little, not seeming to know what to say to that. But she leans towards Bucky too, receptive to his compliments. She’s not making eye contact, which automatically gets Bucky’s instincts perking up. Not that he has any intention of taking this anywhere. It’s just a little friendly banter, a woman reacting to him in a way that’s naturally satisfying for Bucky. “Thanks,” she says shyly.

“I’m still waiting on that recommendation, Mary,” he says, inserting a bit of flirtation into his tone. She makes eye contact at his use of her name, her lips parting just the barest bit and her pupils expanding. Bucky grins, leaning closer. “Hm?”

“Uh, the … the lemon tart is very good,” she says. “If you like lemon. Not too strong. I balance it out with cream and some pistachio streusel, and the meringue on top of course …”

Now that she’s closer and is talking more readily, Bucky catches the faintest whiff of alcohol coming off of her. He raises an eyebrow and looks at her more closely, noticing how there’s a sheen to her eyes, how she doesn’t look just tired, but unsteady; not just unkempt, but disheveled. He frowns. Is she … is she drunk? “Um,” he hedges, pulling back to stand straighter. “Are you okay, Mary?”

She looks surprised at the question. She glances down to her nametag, then back up at him. “I’m … fine,” she says. “Just tired.”

“You kinda smell like booze,” he whispers, not wanting anyone else to hear. He gives her a searching look. “Are you hung over?” Her eyes widen in alarm and Bucky frowns, concerned. “Are you drunk?”

 “I told you that I had a late night,” she hisses. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Bucky gives her a warning look for her tone, and the girl is immediately lowering her eyes. Hmm. Not many people are dominant or submissive the way that Bucky is. It’s considered disordered, so he doesn’t usually play around with testing people this way. But this girl has raised some of his telltale red flags, and he’s curious. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Honey,” he says gently. Then, inserting a careful amount of authority into his voice and watching how she reacts, he says, “Now: I’d like an almond venti chai latté with stevia and cream, double-frothed, to-go. And why don’t you be a good girl and grab me two of those lemon tarts as well? They look too tempting to resist.” Her eyes flick up to his, some strange mixture of outrage and obedience in them, and Bucky feels like he knows, then. She looks the way a woman looks when you’ve just whispered something filthy in their ear. Bucky raises his eyebrow. “Did you get that, Mary?”

“... Yes,” she breathes, making something deeply innate in Bucky stir. She shakes herself out of her stupor and gets to work with a sharpie and venti-sized paper cup.

“Bucky,” he tells her, as he taps his card to the terminal to pay. “That’s the name you can write down.” Mary looks inordinately pleased at having been given his name (another clue). Bucky nods over to the other end of the counter. “I’ll be waiting over there.”

“Okay,” she says, once again back to not meeting his eyes. She seems embarrassed at having been found out for being drunk at work. Maybe she expects Bucky to scold her. He wishes he could. Instead he goes down to where he said he’d wait, and makes up his mind to ask her about whether she’s on the spectrum.

“Here you go,” she says as she hands over the cup several minutes later. “Bucky” is written in neat, sharp letters on the paper sleeve. She pushes a little white box across the counter at him too. “And the tarts.”

Bucky takes them without comment, eyeing her up and down instead. “Mary?” he says, because subs love hearing their names said aloud. Predictably, her eyes snap right up, alert and bright, like Bucky’s just dangled catnip in front of her nose. He offers her a kind look and delicately ventures, “Have you ever been assessed on the D/s spectrum, Honey?”

“What?”

“The D/s spectrum?” he repeats, keeping his voice low because he’s still not trying to upset her. He can see the moment that her brain clicks over in recognition, because her irises flare and her face slackens in shock. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky reassures gently. “I don’t mean any of this in a negative way. I just think you might be on the spectrum. I’m familiar with the signs. And if you’ve gone undiagnosed all this time … well that’d explain it if you’re struggling, you know.”

“I’m not … I’m not struggling,” she stammers.

Bucky gives her a look. “You don’t think so? When here you are, sleep deprived, drunk at work?” 

Embarrassment stains her cheeks within seconds. “How dare you? I am not.”

“Not drunk? Or not submissive?” 

She blushes even harder, jaw working. “I’m not,” she repeats stubbornly.

“Oh, Honey,” Bucky says, and he reaches for her hand before she can pull it back. He circles her wrist with his fingers, marveling at how tiny it is in his hand. He squeezes—and proceeds to watch her eyelids flutter like he’s touched someplace far more erogenous than her wrist. “I think you are,” he murmurs sadly. 

It takes her a minute, but she gets angry again and yanks her hand away, scowling at him. “You’re very rude,” she says. “You can’t just say stuff like that to people.”

“Can’t I?”

Her lip quivers. She pushes the box further across the counter at him. “Take your stuff and leave.”

“You don’t have to be so defensive,” Bucky says. “It’s okay. I’m diagnosed dominant, you know. I understand what it’s like.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying: I’m not going to judge you. I think you should probably get some help, though. It’s pretty progressive if you don’t address it.”

“You don’t even know me!” she hisses, then looks around the shop nervously when she realizes she’s gotten louder. Nobody seems to be paying attention to them, but she still looks back at Bucky with a furiously embarrassed expression. “You're wrong. I’m normal.”

Bucky knows that arguing with her isn’t going to get him anywhere. Instead, he slips the paper sleeve off of his coffee cup and plucks the sharpie from the edge of Mary’s apron. She gasps at the boldness of it and he shoots her a wink. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he says, as he jots down a number. He hands the sleeve back to her. “You can call that number any time, if you wind up needing help.”

“Oh my god, is this some sort of come-on?” She sneers. “Newsflash: I’m not interested in you.”

Bucky nods placidly while imagining putting her over his knee. “No, it’s not my number. It’s a hotline you can call. To talk about this stuff. It’s free and confidential, and it’s manned by people like you and me.”

She regards the cardboard sleeve like it might suddenly have more information written on it. “I don’t—”

“Here.” On a whim, he jots down his cell number as well, this time on the back of his receipt. He slides it over the counter at her but she doesn’t take it. “That’s my number,” he says. “If you want it.”

“I don’t need these. I’m not some friggin’—”

He cuts her off from whatever undoubtedly prejudiced thing she’s about to say. “I’ll be back to give a thorough review of the tarts,” he tells her, taking the box and his coffee cup and stepping away. He heads for the door, satisfied that he’s done the right thing by this woman, even if his dominance is still urging him to do more. “You should have a coffee, yourself,” he calls back over his shoulder. “Have two, even—Strong ones.”

“I hate coffee.”

He hears her scoffing at him as he goes out the door. She’s right, he thinks: he doesn’t know her. It was ballsy to talk to her the way that he did. To presume her situation from just a few reactions. He could’ve been wrong about her … 

Glancing back through the café’s window from outside, he sees her making a drink at the espresso machine. There are no other customers waiting in line. Bucky watches as she takes a sip from it, winces in distaste, and takes another sip anyway. She’s obeying his command. She took it as a command. Bucky smiles sadly from out on the sidewalk. He wasn’t wrong about her. Hopefully she’ll call the hotline, get started on the right path to fix whatever’s going wrong in her life. But even though Bucky’s a dom and thus a natural “fixer,” he can’t solve every sad case he comes across. Especially when the person doesn’t want to be helped. He’s done all he can do, and that’s going to have to be enough.

Shaking his head, he turns away and starts off for home, sipping at his—excellently made—latté, and feeling grateful that he got help when he needed it, back when he was young. He’s one of the lucky ones. 

He puts Mary the drunk barista from his mind, thinking instead about how he needs to get home to shower and change into something nice. He’s got a date with Steve, after all.

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[stuckysbike]

All Or Nothing (2)

Part 1

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Pre-Stucky x Reader, pre-Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: Bucky wants his boyfriend back, but his boyfriend is your husband now. And the father of your child.

In this part you spend some time with Bucky.

Warnings: angst, eventual smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, implied cheating (but not really) mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky.

Bucky was a gentleman.

It needled you to no end. He was polite, courteous, considerate. He always asked your opinion, involved you in conversations, carefully introduced you to his most important associates and his closest family members.

When it came to Belle he looked to you first for guidance and confirmation he was doing the right thing. That you approved. He respected your relationship with her. He respected you.

In short he was perfect, faultless.

You hated it. You wanted to hate him, but you couldn’t. There was a coldness to him that you saw with strangers, an aloof attitude. He didn’t carry that home. He was warm at home, charming and playful. His eyes sparkled when he looked at Belle, and the love that he showed to Steve was breathtaking.

It was in his face, in his kindness and attention to detail. He didn’t put himself on a pedestal around Steve, he didn’t touch or kiss him or demand his attention. He was confident and patient and caring and he always sought consent from Steve, from you and even from Belle when he was around her.

You wanted to reject his advances to get to know you, but you couldn’t when he was so sincere, when he told you he desperately wanted to bond with you, at least be friends whilst you all worked out where you stood in this new life.

He took you for dinner, charmed you into sharing your life story, shared a fair amount of his too. You both left Steve out for the most part, a mention of him here and there perhaps.

Then he took you dancing. Bucky loved dancing, and so did you. Steve never really could, but he tried. With Bucky, with his hands on your hips as he guided you through a face paced latin dance, you felt at home. It was where he drew the most sincere laughs from you, where you shared your first moments getting lost deep in his eyes.

He twirled you, and turned you and if you felt your tummy swoop you put it down to Bucky dipping you and not the feeling of his hand on the small of your back or his warm breath on your face.

The first time you kissed he had pulled you into his body from a spin and it felt so natural, but later as you sat at your vanity removing your makeup guilt churned in your gut. Guilt and jealousy and confusion.

It wasn’t really a kiss, a brush of the lips more like as you came together during the dance. Bucky had smiled wide, and he kept his arm tight around you the rest of the night.

You felt safe with him, you realised, and his possessiveness made you feel wanted not uncomfortable. You could still recall the scent of his cologne and the heat of his body.

You showered and after putting on fresh pyjamas you padded downstairs to get a drink.

Steve and Bucky were on the sofa talking in low voices. There was a proper amount of space between them and you heard Bucky explain that he doesn’t kiss and tell. His words made you smile and when Steve heard you two faces gazed lovingly over towards you. They moved to let you sit between them but you just shook your head, got your water and headed back to bed leaving them to talk.

Yes Bucky Barnes was a gentleman and you hated him because really, deep down, you didn’t hate him at all.

No, instead of hating him like you wanted you were falling for him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader

[buckyalpine]

Pretty baby

Stucky x f reader, one with sub bucky and a short one with dom Stucky No plot, just porn okay. Not even good porn. 

Sub Bucky 

“So pretty baby” you cooed, looking up at the brunette super soldier, his legs spread wide in front of you, your face nearly brushing against his length. 

Bucky let out a shuddered breath, his head falling back onto Steve’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, his cock leaking against his abs. Steve smirked, adjusting himself slightly, causing Bucky to let out a straight moan. He was already so full, every time Steve moved, his cock nudged his prostate and he cock grew harder. 

It was a beautiful sight really. Steve was sitting against the headboard of your bed, his cock deep in Bucky’s ass with both super soldiers legs spread wide. You were in front of them, lying on your stomach, your slick already making a mess on the sheets and all you had done was tease him so far.

“Such a pretty cock baby” You traced your finger from the base of his cock to the tip, swiping some of his precum off and licking it off your fingers. 

“F-fuckk” Bucky let out a strained whimper, forcing his eyes back open to watch you swipe the tip again, your eyes rolling back each time you tasted him. “You think its pretty angel?”

“Of course it is Buck” You crawled up to kiss his pink pouty lips, caressing his cheek as he leaned into your touch, desperate for more. 

“Tell him what you like the most y/n” The captain smirked, feeling Bucky’s ass clench around his length; it was taking all his self control not to plant his feet and fuck up into him, but he was enjoying this. 

“Hmm” You trailed kisses from Bucky’s lips, down his chest and abs. licking off the mess he’d already started to make on himself before your lips barely touched the pink tip of his cock. “You’re so sensitive here baby” You whispered, kissing his swollen head making him whine, his hips trying to buck up and chase your mouth. 

“Does that feel good?” you licked along the slit of his cock, while his hands went to fist the sheets, his chest now heaving while he continued to whither. 

“Steve-fuck-y/n,- please baby, do something, touch me” 

“Show your baby boy how pretty cocks get sucked” Steve smirked, his hand snaking around Bucky's body to grip his cock, holding it to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction, taking just the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around while Bucky moaned loudly, rocking himself on Steve’s cock while trying to go deeper in your mouth. 

“That’s right princess, suck your pretty boys cock” Steve groaned, feeling his own orgasm start to build with the way Bucky was desperately trying to fuck himself. “Suck him nice babygirl, make him feel so good”

“Oh fuck, suck me nice doll” Bucky moaned, his cock throbbing, arousal dripping in your mouth, streaming down your throat as you took him deeper. 

“You like that? Does she suck you good?” Steve whispered in his ear. his hands going down to grip onto Bucky’s hips, helping him grind on him slowly. Bucky nearly saw stars with all the stimulation, he wasn’t going to last long but he didn’t want any of this to end. 

“S-she- she sucks so good FUCK!”

“Look at what you do to him princess” Steve cooed, biting his lip when you looked at him with doe eyes, your mouth still full. You pulled off Bucky’s cock with a pop, your eyes trailing down to where they were both connected. 

“You sure it’s just me, he’s so full of you captain” 

“Hmm, you think so Buck?” 

“So full Steve” Neither of the super soldiers could hold their composure for much longer, Steve was itching to rail Bucky’s ass and fill him till he was dripping and Bucky so badly wanted to be wrapped in your mouth while Steve pounded his gspot. 

“Tell me you like my cock up your ass” 

“Feels-fuck it feels good, love your cock filling me-I-I’m gonna-”

Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself, eyes nearly glassy, moaning when Steve gripped the base of his cock to keep him from cumming. 

“Want your mouth doll, please” 

You smirked to yourself, deciding to toy with both soldiers. You ran your tongue down from the tip of Buckys cock, going down to his balls and taking them both in your mouth. You rolled them on your tongue, getting them nice and went before continuing down to where he was stretched and full, giving his ass a few licks making him cry out and Steve moan. 

“OH GOD FUCKK” The second your tongue touched his tight ring of muscle, it felt like you had lit every nerve in his body on fire. 

“Fuck y/n” Steve groaned as soon as he felt your warm tongue take his balls in your mouth, they were so heavy and full. “Isn’t she fuckin’ perfect Buck” 

Bucky couldn't even formulate words, nodding while he squirmed on Steve’s lap, the tip of his cock swelling more when he felt  Steve’s cock throb. You looked so fucking perfect between both their legs and it didn’t help that you had snaked your hand down to play with your clit. 

“Let me play with that pretty cock” Steve groaned, gently moving his hips up in sync with his fist wrapped around Bucky’s length, stroking him and twirling his hand around his sensitive tip while you alternated between sucking and licking their balls.

“Don’t think he’ll last that long princess, come here” Steve gently moved Bucky off so he could lay down sideways. Steve spooned Bucky from behind, lining his cock up again, pressing it into Bucky’s ass while you faced Bucky, hitching your leg around his waist so he could push his cock into your sopping soaked cunt. 

“Oh fuck Bucky” You moaned at the stretched, your lips brushing with his while he panted, his hands gripping onto you for dear life, he didn’t even know where to focus. Steve started off with gentle thrusts, holding his waist, before slowly starting to speed up grunting and groaning at the way Bucky’s ass practically sucked him back in, begging for more.

You cried on in pleasure feeling Bucky’s cock thrust up in you, his deep moans and whines making you wetter, especially with the way his jaw was slack, completely fucked out, sweat covering his body. 

“You okay baby boy?” You kissed him sweetly, causing him to wrap his arms around your body, whimpering into your neck as if he were almost in pain.

“It-it’feelings s’fucking good” His muffled cries spurred Steve on, pounding his ass harder, “

“Tell me what feels good baby” You whispered, grazing his scalp with your fingers, loving the way his body trembled, you swore you could feel his pulse against his skin. 

“His cock in my ass baby, its so deep, feels s’good, your pussy so wet, making my cock so hard, so sensitive, can’t-can’t hold it any more “ 

“Let go baby” You kept caressing his cheek while he buried his face into you

“I’m’ Fuckfuckfuck Steve-y/n-please, I’m gonna-Fuck gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, m’gonna cum so. fucking. hard, pleasepleaseplease”

“Cum, fucking cum baby” Bucky could feel your walls flutter and that threw him off the edge.

“I’M CUMMINGGGGG” His body tensed, moaning loudly into the crook of your neck, thrusting into you as much as he could while Steve’s cock massaged his prostate sending endless ropes of cum into you, making the biggest mess on your sheets “Push your cock in as deep as it’ll fucking go” 

He was desperate, wanting to feel every ounce of pleasure he could, rutting into you while his cock continued to pour, panting and whining, nearly sobbing as Steve started to chase his own high. 

“Milking my fucking cock-shit-oh fuckkk” Steve groaned, pumping his load deep, his cock throbbing. 

“Want to feel you cum” Bucky whispered, his own orgasm still unending, while he snaked his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, rubbing faster each time you moaned louder. 

“Look at how pretty our princess looks when she cums” Steve pecked Bucky’s cheek, watching you fall apart on Bucky’s cock, clinging onto him while he continued to gently toy with your clit. 

Bucky hummed, his body limp on the bed, frowning when he felt you pull away from his hold. You crawled down the bed to where his softening cock continued to drip onto the sheets, taking his overstimulated tip into your mouth, smirking at the way he jolted, chanting your name while you cleaned him up. 

“Still so pretty” 

Dom Stucky 

But also I had this other thot. Imagine you’re this timid new hire at the compound and you have both soldiers smitten. They tease you on purpose cause they can practically smell how aroused you get when your near them. 

Steve approached you first; given he was sweet and the face of all things good.

Then his best friend showed up just as Steve was about to kiss you in his room. You froze, blinking, noticing the way both men silently communicated with just their eyes. 

You eventually find yourself stark naked, sandwiched between both men, you’ve never felt so fucking full in your life, too blissed out to know who is saying what but you do hear every filthy thing they say as they fuck you, both their cocks filling your cunt and ass. 

“She’s so fucking tight” 

“You should feel her pussy, s’like heaven, so wet and warm”

“Her ass is perfect, sucking me back in like a vice”

“You’re so perfect angel, taking us both so well”

“You’re gonna be a good slut for us, right baby?”

All you could do was moan and nod, how the hell were they both so perfect.

“She tastes good too, sweetest little pussy”

“Such a soft little clit to suck on”

“Poor baby needs more huh, look at how fucked out she is already”

“You can take more angel, hm? Moan for us baby, don’t hold back, the walls are sound proof”

“Fuck, she’s gonna cum, squeezing my cock”

“Cum for us baby, go a head, cum on his cock like a good girl, make a nice creamy mess on it’

“Cum on my cock princess-fuck-you’re gonna make me bust if you keep squeezing me like that-shit-fuck you should feel how wet she is right now, oh fuck-

“Let go baby, we got you, just let go” 

“She’s cumming holy fuck-fuckfuckfuck-OH FUCK cum angel, cum on daddy’s cock, cum baby, so fucking beautiful-

“That’s it, good girl, you did so good for us baby, our perfect angel”

“Beautiful doll”

“Our pretty baby”

“Switch?” 

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[buckyscombatboots]

Monstertober Day 5:

The empty sarcophagus𓂀

Pairing: Mummy!Steve Rogers x Reader x Jackal!Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Dub con, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, asphyxiation/ choking, scratching, marking/biting, mentions of blood, threesome, Stucky x Reader

Nicknames: Puppy, Pup, Scarab

Word count: 2.4K

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Watery sunlight from the alternative entrance of the tomb falls down onto the golden sarcophagus, brightening, waning and brightening again. You arrived early enough that it's still cold, you wanted to avoid the midday heat and its blinding, orangey light that followed; you wanted to relax in the bluish grey light, the chill of the air and the absence of people scuttling around like little ants, occupying every square inch of the tomb, searching for secrets, for riches. It was stifling, suffocating; the smell of warm, sweaty people.

You entered into the sliver of sunlight, relishing in the tepid heat that faded and intensified like the ocean lapping at the shore. The golden sarcophagus in front of you was captivating, you ran your hand across the beaten gold covering the wooden coffin letting your hand linger on the brilliant coloured glass and semi-precious stones, fingering each of them in their imperfect rows; following their designs—the story of the inhabitants life. This was just the outer layer of the sarcophagus, next to it was a much heavier coffin, believed to be made of solid gold, that your team had struggled extracting from the initial layer. You moved over to it, more light was seeping in from the entrance now; the golden coffin glimmered, the lapis lazuli, agate, carnelian, amethyst and variscite inlaid on the tomb looked truly beautiful in the soft glow of the rising sun. Ever so gently you brushed your fingers across the side of the coffin, following the curve. You lifted the lid, inching it slowly open and pushing it to the side. It was empty. You could see all the inscriptions, the story of the inhabitants' entire life, but the actual mummy was gone. A frantically carved inscription was raggedly scratched into the bottom of the tomb, your eyes narrowed, your brain burning as you translated it “Cursed be those who enter my tomb...Those that break the seal of this tomb will meet their end by me. I shall seize their neck and cast fear of myself into them…Death will be upon them.” You bit your lip, removing your shaking hands from the edge of the sarcophagus and stepping backwards on trembling legs “Just a mummy’s curse, nothing too bad that’s normal. It’s going to be fine.” You soothed yourself, taking a deep breath in. Your panic was reignited when you realised “Where the fuck is the mummy?” A thin piece of fabric wrapped around your neck and you pulled backwards harshly, falling to the ground. Your hands flew to the fabric constricting your neck scratching at it, trying to distance it from your throat as it choked you, spittle flying from your mouth as you threw your head back to see who was dragging you. It was too dark.

Your vision adjusted as you were dragged into a room lit by rushlight candles, a dusty table was in the center dotted with canopic jars. The dragging stopped as did the choking, the fabric slipped away from its place around your throat; and you began sucking air back into your lungs as you swiveled your head to see who had almost asphyxiated you. You found the missing mummy. He towered over you, his atavistic linen wrapping falling off of him, exposing areas of his ancient, brown-tinged body. His face was fully visible—it was in almost perfect condition, minus a small laceration on the side of his head—defined cheekbones, a trimmed beard and piercing eyes like polished chrysocolla. He was handsome for a mummy, that thought was quickly replaced by a myriad of questions. You slowly got to your feet, putting your arms in front of yourself protectively “Scarab…” He uttered in a drawling tone.

“Scarab? No, wait, How are you even alive?” You questioned an incredulous expression distorting your features.

“That would be because of me, Pup.” A disembodied voice admitted. You turned around to try and see the other man, squinting and staring into the shadowed parts of the tomb. Then there was movement in the darkness “Over here,” He stepped into the light of the rushlight waving one of his hands that was partly paw; his hand was deep black with pads on his fingers and palm, “Hi.”

“Anubis?” Your voice tremored, you stumbled backwards bumping into the mummy behind you. His arms pulled you into him, settling you against his chest “Get off of me!” You struggled against his grip. The smell of decaying flesh reaching your nose makes you gag.

The Jackal stalked closer “Not quite, I’m Bucky a servant of Anubis and behind you is Steve; once an extremely important attendant and warrior for the pharaoh, now he is a mummy which I reanimated.” Bucky caressed your face with his cold dog-like palm, stroking across your cheek with his thumb—the long claw-like nail just about missed your eye. “You're going to be punished for opening the tomb, Pup, isn’t she Stevie?” Steve simply grunted in response, rubbing his crotch into your ass. You attempted to wriggle out of his grip but Bucky caged you in, his hands wandering down your body caressing your waist and hips. Below the thin material of his loincloth you could see his cock get harder, lifting the fabric as it did. His hands trailed back up to your tits, giving them a squeeze before he used one his sharp nails to tear open your blouse and bra. His chilly hands tweaked your nipples, his claws cutting into your skin as he pinched, you gasped trying to pull away from his touch.

Bucky’s other hand moved down to your shorts, undoing the buttons and tugging them down to your feet along with you underwear “I can smell you, little Puppy, there’s no point in trying to get away so you should at least have some fun or we’ll give you a truly terrible curse.” His voice was low and threatening, eyes narrowed and dark as he relished in the fear present in your tear reddened eyes. Bucky goes down on his knees, carefully helping you out of your shorts and tossing them across the embalming room. He placed one of your legs over his shoulder, liking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy. “So wet for us, Pup, do you secretly like being shared by two people? Do you like us taking you against your will?” You whined in response turning your head away to stare at the ancient walls, one of Steve’s hands seized your face pulling you into a kiss. His mouth was cold and tasted bitter. You scrunch your nose as he deepened the kiss, then you felt Bucky slide his long tongue inside of; the hot, wet muscle filled you so well, attacking the sweet spot inside you as the bridge of his nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. You writhed in the mummies grasp, your hands clenching and unclenching frantically—you were desperate to bury your hands in Bucky’s curls; to feel his long velvety ears and run the silky inside between your thumb and index finger. You could feel heat building in you belly as Bucky removed his tongue from your eager hole and began to suck and tease your bud, Steves kisses simply added to the sensation you head growing fuzzy from the stimulation which only intensified when Steve released your face from his hold and satiated the burning need of your clenching hole by roughly shoving two of his fingers inside you.

You pulled away from the intense kiss, slamming your head into his broad shoulder as you let out a breathy moan. “Feel good…Khepri- Scarab?” Steve probed, nibbling at your ear.

“Yes!” You whined, prying a hand from his grasp and digging your hand into Bucky’s soft hair, grinding your hips into his face trying to chase your release. He pulled away, lips red, his chin shining with spit and your slick “So close” you sobbed playing with his charcoal ears, fiddling with the golden piercing. Bucky’s large tongue licked across your inner thigh, you heard him let out a low chuckle before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh. You hissed, slamming the back of his head with your fists. He released the area he’d bitten, slurping at the blood dripping down your thigh.

“You’re going to let Stevie fuck you arent you, Scarab?”

“I call her Scarab, my Scarab.” Steve grunted, tightening his hold on you so much so that you thought your wrist would snap, you could feel the bruises already forming as he strangled your wrists. You squeaked as he tugged you closer, his hard dick pressing on to your back, dripping precum “Saw her first. Like Khepri…appeared from nowhere, Scarab special. Mine.”

“Steve, you need to learn how to share. She can be both of ours, my Puppy, your Scarab. Okay?” Bucky kneads Steve’s shoulders soothingly.

“Fine. Scarab, up.” Steve picked you up, carrying you over to the table brushing his arm across it knocking the fragile canopic jars to the floor causing them to shatter. He lays you on your back on the dusty stone table; he pulled your hips closer to the edge. Staring into your eyes as he ran his red, leaking, mushroom head through your folds. You whimpered as he teased you, copying what he’d seen Bucky do earlier and playing with your puffy clit. With a single thrust he shoved himself fully inside, his dick crashing against your cervix almost painfully as he tried to fit all of his length in, giving shallow thrust to try get it all the way. A painful sting tore through you as your pussy tried to grow accustomed to the size of his girth shaft, Steve's eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

Bucky grazed his hand across Steve’s arm gently “It’s not gonna fit all the way. Remember what I told you? You’re big.” The jackal chuckled at Steve’s pout and his grumbling “He’s big isn’t he, Puppy? Too big. Try to breathe. Now turn your head to the side, Steve’s not gonna be the only one having fun.” You don’t know why, but you obeyed him; turning your head so your cheek rested against the cool stone. When you turned you were met with Bucky’s cock, he’d taken off his loin cloth and now you could fully see it. It was long, thick (not as thick as Steves), with a purple vein running from the base all the way to the tip and a golden piercing through the head, matching the ones in his ears. A bead of precum dripped from the head and he smeared it across your lips. A devious smile stretching across his lips “Open up. Don’t even think about biting it or I’ll pull out all your teeth and put them in one of the canopic jars.” He lowered his voice an octave as he threatened you. Steve stopped his thrusts giving Bucky a disapproving glare.

“Don’t threaten Scarab.” He growled, making Bucky’s ears pull backwards, he nodded, looking like a puppy that just got caught chewing something they weren’t supposed to, you snickered shooting a smile at him. Your smile soon faded as Bucky’s heady scent filled your nostrils; he sheathed the full length of his veiny cock in your mouth. You could feel the head of his dick brush uncomfortably against the walls of your throat. You gaged a bit and he rasped out a moan in response “that’s it, choke on it, Puppy.” You claw at his thick, hair thighs with your nails pushing yourself off of him, saliva leaking down your chin as you glare at him with teary eyes. He tangles his fingers in your hair and begins pounding into you, disregarding your muffled pleas for him to slow down “this is a punishment after all, Pup. Can’t be too nice.”

“Scarab feels good, s-so warm.” Steve moaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing throughout the room.

“I won't deny that she’s warm, but it’s also because you’re extremely cold, big guy.” Bucky used his free hand to play with your nipples, circling the hardened nub with his claw “Gonna make pleasure and pain indistinguishable for you.” Buck snarled, dragging his claws across your rib cage as he rammed his dick down your throat. Your jaw ached and mild prickling from the tiny incisions made you clench around Steve. You felt so full, your brain growing hazy as a pleasurable heat spread across your lower back.You tried to close your legs around Steve as the tingling inside you grew “She’s close. Come for us, Puppy!” He demanded quickening his thrusts in an attempt to catch up to both you and Steve. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the mummy above you. His face was flushed, mouth wide open, tears in his eyes as his brutal pace continued—the sight was enough to send you over the edge.

The sounds of Steve and Bucky’s moans cut into white noise as the coil tightening within your lower abdomen finally snapped, making your eyes roll back into your head as your pussy tensed around Steve's pulsing dick. His fingers dug into your hips as he came with a violent thrust and a gravelly grunt. Your eyes burned as Bucky’s held your face flush against his pelvis as let all of his seed flow down your throat. Bucky slipped his cock out of your mouth, the ache within your jaw finally dissipated. Begrudgingly Steve weakened his hold on your hips, whining as he slowly pulled out of you. Groggily you lifted your wrist, reading your watch—it was almost eight in the morning. The team was going to be here soon. Shakily you got to your feet, searching for your shorts that Bucky had tossed. The Jackal grabbed your arm. “I need to go, the research team is going to be here soon.”

“Oh sweet little Puppy, you’re not leaving. You’re coming with us, back to the underworld.” Bucky cooed, you felt two large hands seize your throat and squeeze, constricting your throat in his murderous grip. You fought for air, kicking at Steve's legs with your feet as he lifted you off the ground with his strong beefy arms, even below the bandaged you could see the muscles in his arms tense and his veins bulging as he used all his strength to clutch your throat. Darkness bordered your vision as the air drained from your lungs; your floundering and thrashing became more violent, you could feel the adrenaline leaving your body that was slowly growing slack “Shhh, death isn’t scary. It’s fun. You’ll travel through Duat on Ra’s boat, consult with Oris, meet master Anubis and then we can spend eternity together in the stars. Sleep now, Puppy, and when you wake we’ll begin our journey, together.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @cevansgurl @bval-1 @taramaria

#smut #marvel #marvel smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes one shot #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x you #bucky x f!reader #smut drabble #bucky x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!stucky x reader #dark!stucky #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #monstertober

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

You knew with absolute certainty that you meant a lot to both Bucky and Steve — to them as themselves, and to their marriage, but you did not truly understand the depth of their devotion to you, not until a frosty, chilled morning where they revealed just how much they truly adored you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ༄ Fireman!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 1.4k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, spicy humour, implied spice

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ༄ Being spoiled by these two would be a dream come true. 😭

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Only by RY X

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ༄ @stuckybingo ჻჻჻ 𝗚𝟮 — Firefighter AU ჻჻჻ 𝗝𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡 — Garnet — Masterlist ༄ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Wafts from Bucky and Steve’s coffees woke you slowly — earthy tones from Steve’s black brew to the sweetness of Bucky’s sugar overladen cup intermingled, dancing over your palette to entice you into the kitchen. 

That, however, didn’t mean you would hurry to leave the cocoon of blankets you were wrapped in. Not even when you heard quiet footsteps down the hall, or when the bedroom door creaked open to admit one of the two culprits. 

Their footsteps neared the edge of the bed, but you couldn’t discern just who it was, until, “Cherry, doll,” Steve cooed. “Time to get up, darlin’, Buck’s gettin’ restless. Took all a’me to keep him on the damned couch so he wouldn’t barrel in here and just pick you up—blankets an’ all.”

“No,” you grumbled, furrowing deeper into said blankets. “Not gettin’ up, Stevie.”

The mattress dipped as he sat down on the edge, right next to your hip. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back, and with a chuckle, he said, “I think you are, honey—we have a present for you.”

You blinked and peered over the mound of blankets to look into Steve’s bright eyes. “Present?”

“Present,” he repeated. The fabric of the covers rustled under his palm, and he cupped your ass over the plush material. “Get that cute butt up and you can see.”

“Ugh.”

The quiet atmosphere of the house was the first thing you noticed — not even a peep from Cap or Cleo, or even the hushed whispers of an excited Bucky to fill the air while you padded down the hallway. 

A steaming mug of your favourite, warm drink was waiting for you on the kitchen counter, and you picked it up with a grateful hum; the warmth of the colourful mug made your palms prickle from the heat while your fingers regained feeling. 

Bucky’s voice suddenly called from the living room, “Is that our Cherry?”

“Yeah,” you said around a yawn, and you made your way over to the pair of them who were relaxed on the couch. “Morning, boys.”

Steve smiled; Bucky positively beamed with enthusiasm, like you were the best sight he could have witnessed that chilled, festive morning. “Hey, pretty girl,” he said, confirming your thoughts and gesturing you over. “C’mere—wanna hold our girl.”

You carefully placed your drink down onto the coffee table and sat on Bucky’s lap. As soon as the back of your thighs touched the top of his, his hands shot straight to your waist and hip, guiding you to sit comfortably. The quietness of his hushed voice while he hummed along to the Christmas carol playing from the movie on the TV soothed you. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, curling into his chest. The faded fabric of his red henley was soft under your palm as you rested your hand over his heart. A soft kiss was placed on your forehead. The three of you settled into a comfortable silence. 

A low huff came from the direction of the room’s heater. You looked over and found Cap and Cleo cuddled under the endless soft, fluffy blankets that lined their bed. 

“How did you sleep, baby?” Bucky asked quietly. Under your hand, his chest rumbled from his gravelly voice.  

“Good—could still fall asleep now,” you replied, and a yawn snuck up on you. “But someone insisted I get out of bed this morning.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Steve said with a light laugh. 

Bucky’s hand squeezed your waist and his other arm moved to rest higher up, over your thighs. “It is, Cherry—don’t go givin’ Stevie a hard time.”

“Mm, I’ll be the judge of that,” you huffed. “Now shush, you’re warm and ‘m sleepy.” 

“Don’t go to sleep again,” Bucky warned, shaking you a little. “Stevie,” he said, and you felt his jaw move from the top of your head — he must have looked toward his husband. “Let’s do it, yeah? That way Cherry can get what she wants.”

“Yes,” you agreed, closing your eyes for effect. “What I want is to sleep against the warm, strong chest of my–”

“Ah, ah,” Steve interrupted, raising a brow at you, as though he knew you were going to say something that would set Bucky off — the bastard always knew, you cursed. “Alright,” he continued, twisting in his seat to reach for something that rested on the bottom shelf of the coffee table, and you watched keenly. “Now this is an early Christmas present—since we agreed neither of us could keep our mouths shut about it.”

A simple, small, black box rested in his offered palm. It was nondescript and plain; no way to decipher what may lie inside or where it came from. 

With only an ounce of hesitation, you leaned out of Bucky’s grip and took the offered mysterious present. It had little weight to it, but that truly meant nothing when it came to their cunning, crafty ideas — the possibilities were endless–

“You wanna open it up to see what it is,” Bucky said, his tone light and amused, “or are you gona keep bitin’ your lip and keep me thinkin’ of what I could do to make them even more–”

“For fuck’s sake,” Steve cut in, holding a finger up in reminisce of a scolding parent. “This is a soft, gentle moment—don’t ruin it by bein’ a horndog.”

“Whatever,” Bucky grumbled. Not one to be dissuaded, his face inched closer to your ear, and you giggled sweetly when his lips brushed against the sensitive skin behind and below your ear. “Don’t listen to him, kitten.”

“Enough!”

All three of you burst into laughter, and it was only when Cleo ventured from her bed to investigate the interesting package you held in your lap, did the three of you settle into occasional snorts of mirth. “Hey, baby girl,” you whispered, offering the puppy your hand to sniff, and scratch between her ears. “What d’you say? Should I open it?”

She yipped and wagged her tail — a universal sign of ‘yes’. 

“Okay, here we go.” The lid of the box slid from the base smoothly to reveal red tissue paper. Tones of umber, ruby red, and fire beneath your fingertips. “You boys spend big, did you?”

“Jus’ open it, Cherry,” Bucky insisted, a boyish grin on his lips. If you were not in his lap and he had room to move, you would have sworn that he would vibrate in place from sheer excitement. “C’mon—this is worse than watchin’ Clint try to cook at the station.”

“Alright, alright,” you soothed him, unable to help the pull of a wide smile. “But I’m telling him you said that.”

“Don’t care, jus’ open it.”

you sighed exasperatedly. “Fine.”  

The tissue paper came away with a quiet crinkle, and what lay beneath it made you gasp so harshly that it caught in your throat, making you cough. 

A thin, twinkling bracelet was nestled into the white, velvet padding. Red jewels and flashes of white diamonds glinted in the low light of the living room, and you could not for the life of you speak up, or vocalise behind small gasps and whimpers. 

Its beauty was unmatched in anything you had seen before. A larger red stone was set on the domed shell of a firefighter’s helmet, and along the brimmed edge around the helmet was inscribed a single word — Cherry. 

“Oh, my,” you managed, a barely audible exclamation that seemed to piteously show your shock and awe. 

The love and affection in both Bucky and Steve’s stares made your eyes well with tears, and Bucky spoke first. “They’re garnets—the gemstone of fire. We found this shop that made things with all kinds, and– Well, we had to get our Cherry somethin’ of us.”

“You’re our fire, our passion, Cherry,” Steve said quietly. “You’ve given us everythin’, all of what we have now is thanks to you.”

“Oh, hell,” you gasped wetly, choking on a sob. “Boys–” There was no way to speak before the torrential flood took over, and you mouthed wordlessly while clutching the box. 

Bucky pulled you impossibly closer, and Steve shuffled down the couch to sit so close he may as well have been in Bucky’s lap, as well — he lifted your legs and settled, then placed them over his before he leaned in close. 

“Here,” Steve said, gently grabbing the box from your hand. His fingertips were soft over the delicate skin of your wrist, and the bracelet rested comfortably in place. “There you go, honey.” 

You held them close after that, unwilling and unable to let either of them go — not even when you had a part of them already in your heart.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x female reader #stucky x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #stucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #steve rogers oneshot #stucky oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #stucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers fluff #stucky fluff #MB #rookthorne's works

[darsynia]

Safe In My (Our) Arms | Series Masterlist

(Sex Pollen and aftermath trope; Stucky x Reader endgame, Steve & Bucky Friendship, Bucky & Reader friendship)

Summary: When a well-meaning lab test goes catastrophically wrong, Steve ends up doused in the potent aphrodisiac Mistress. His plan to retreat to his bedroom to handle things himself is derailed when it turns out the very security measures he put in place to keep himself isolated have created a new dilemma.

Your best friend Bucky has taken months to open up, but this latest confession is a doozy: the friend Steve he's spoken so warmly about is actually Steve Rogers. From the moment he steps out to run an errand and leaves you alone in the apartment he shares with Steve, the situation escalates into first the most frightening, and then the most erotic experience of your life...

Follow Safe In My (Our) Arms to read about how these three people go from separate friendships to a solid, loving bond, navigating plot twists and moral dilemmas along the way. Oh, and a bunch of sex. Minors DNI! ♥️

Part I: HAND(S) OFF MASTERLIST (completed 4/6/23)

Part II: SHIPPING AND HANDLING MASTERLIST

Ch 1: VICINITY Ch 2: URGENCY - new! 4/23 Ch 3: Ch 4: Ch 5: Ch 6:

Series News:

Welcome! I'm not trying to give people a million things to keep track of, but I did think it would be nice to have a series masterlist. I plan on posting a preview of chapter 1 of Shipping and Handling tomorrow, with the full chapter on Sunday.

If you've asked to be on the taglist for Hand(s) Off, my plan is to tag you for the rest of the series. If you're interested in being added, please ask! If you'd like off the taglist, please let me know, with no hard feelings. Thanks for everyone's support and interest so far, it means the world.

#stucky x reader #stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers smut #stucky smut #bucky barnes smut #stucky x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #steve rogers x you #stucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #sex pollen #romance #humor #steve rogers imagine #stucky x you imagine #bucky barnes imagine #happy endings (all meanings implied)

[hellsbarnes]

thotty thursday: mob!bucky x stripper!reader x mob!steve, omg, that would be so amazing!

୨ 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮 ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x stripper!reader x mob!steve

summary: bucky and steve punishes you after you break their rules, not that you mind though

warnings: nsfw, 18+, mdni, threesome, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie (please do not read if you're uncomfortable)

word count: 1.1k

author's note: my last thotty thursday fic is here! i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

“What was rule number one?” Bucky asks, looking towards you as you cross your legs, your perfectly styled hair falling down your shoulders, as you lean forward.

“I forgot,” you replied, smirking when Steve shoots you a glare, god if it was thing you loved, it was riling your men up, because hell, the two of them looked pissed off now, and if it were anyone else that was in your place, you were pretty fucking sure that they would have shit their pants by now.

But you, well, you wouldn’t, after all, you did love the way the two mobsters had their eyes fixated on you the whole time you were on that stage that sat right smack in the middle of the bar.

The songs that reverberated through the clubs encouraged you to step up, dressing up in one of your prettiest costumes, the material of the bralette doing practically nothing to hide your tits that looked as though they could spill out any second, and that thong, well let’s just say it was better if you wore nothing at all.

It wasn’t your fault you had every pair of eyes in the club on you, watching as you sauntered on stage in your six inch high heels, sultry smile on your lips as you put on a show, after all your stage name, “temptress” didn’t come from nothing, men and women cheered, wolf whistles following as you got down on your knees, licking your lips you collected dollar notes with your mouth.

“In case you forgot kitten, rule one was that only Bucky and I get to touch that pretty little ass of yours,” Steve grunts and you shrug, the memory of the two of them glaring daggers at the man that had paid you the most attention, he had practically thrown hundred dollar bills your way, copping a feel of your ass along the way.

You hadn’t really minded it, but seeing the way your men looked like they were ready to kill him, you figured that going a little further couldn’t hurt so you lean forward, watching as he stared at you, almost dumbfounded as you swung your legs over his shoulder.

Oh that was it, the next thing you knew, Bucky had stomped over, pulled you off the stage and into the very room you were in.

“Really, because neither of you have touched me, in a damn week,” You retort and Bucky smirks.

“Looks like our girl misses us Buck, what should we do?” Steve asks as he brings his whiskey to his lips, his baby blues gazing into yours as he did.

“I’d say we teach her a lesson, show our little cock slut what happens when she breaks the rules,”

“You heard the man kitten, on your knees, come over to me baby,” Steve commands, and you bite your lip, doing as he says, going on your knees, palms on the floor as you crawl over to Steve, whimpering when he leans forward, pressing a finger under your chin as he tilts your head, his eyes growing darker as Bucky chuckles.

“Look at her punk, all waiting for your cock aren’t you? You want to choke on Steve’s cock don’t you angel, want him to cum all over that pretty little face, want to be taken every way like the fucking cock slut you are” Bucky growls, slapping your ass hard and you mewl, taking the pain and you lick your lips as Steve pops the button of his jeans, the outline of his hard of his hard on pressing against his jeans.

“Come on kitten, it’s not gonna suck itself” Steve says and you nod, moving forward, unzipping his pants, and pulling his already hard cock out, it stood tall, pre cum leaking from its swollen tip, and you gave it a few pumps before you swirled your tongue around its tip, tasting the salty liquid, your eyes locking with his lust filled ones as you took his cock into the depths of your mouth, your mouth hollowing around his dick as you bobbed your head up and down.

“You gonna take her?” Steve asked, groaning when you took him all the way, choking on his cock as you did, tears brimming around the corner of your eyes as he cards through your hair, pulling it as he pushes your head down further, grunting as you gag on his cock, your hand pressed up against his thighs as you did, gasping for air when he lets go.

“Never seen such a pretty pussy, already so fucking wet aren’t you kitten?” Bucky asks and you managed to choke out a yes, moaning when he easily rips your thong off, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet cunt, you were practically dripping and your cries were muffled when Bucky slams into your pussy, barely giving you time to adjust as he stretches your walls deliciously, working up a rough pace as Steve shoves his cock back into your mouth.

Bucky digs his fingers into your hips, thrusting into you mercilessly, each time hitting your sweet spot, god, you were a mess, your mascara stained as you suck on the blonde’s cock while Bucky pounds into you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride as your men used you.

“You like it don’t you kitten, getting your holes filled,”

“I think she does Buck, look at her so fucking pretty with her lips ‘round my cock,” Steve replies and you whimper.

“Fuck, you’re so tight kitten, gonna cream all over my cock,” Bucky growls, and you nod, your back arching as you cave in to your own desires, the knot in your stomach tightening as you found yourself getting closer to the edge.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Steve grunts, his head falling back as his mouth hung open, that only egged you on as you swirl your tongue around his cock, your moan sending sweet vibrations up his shaft and that was all it took for him to cum, groaning your name as he rewards you with ribbons of warm cum.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” Bucky asks and you nod as you move forward, cleaning Steve’s cock with your tongue, moans falling from your lips as Bucky slams into you over and over again, his thrusts growing erratic as you come undone, your walls tightening around his cock, pulsating as you dived headfirst into euphoria, pleasure washing over you as Bucky follows suit, groaning as he cums, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his seed.

You were breathless, panting when Bucky pulled out, white stickiness dripping from your cunt. “It's not over kitten,” Steve starts, smirking as he wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing it as he helps you onto the couch.

“Not by a long shot, you need to be taught a lesson angelface,”

note: thank you so much for reading, please remember to reblog, see you soon!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙙𝙖𝙮

#raena's thotty thursday #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #mob!stucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!steve rogers #mob!bucky x reader #mob!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x smut #steve rogers x smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #stucky x reader #stucky x you #mcu

[ace-of-gay]

ok so Stucky’s little struggles with sensory issues & recently their hair has been bothering them because the length is causing the hair to touch their neck & shoulders. so Stucky takes them to get their hair cut at a salon. this causes a tantrum because salons can be very overwhelming. Stucky of course isn’t mad at their little because they understand that it is just too much sensory stimulation for their little & it’s hard to process that especially in little space. afterwards, their little feels so much better with their haircut.

I just had to do this over the weekend. I have thick curly hair & especially with what I do, it was beginning to become too much. it was hard to manage, causing sensory issues, & giving me gender dysphoria. I actually cut it myself because I’m a broke college student 😂 it didn’t turn out too bad. it is definitely shorter than I intended but it’s just hair & it’ll grow back so it doesn’t bother me.

anyways I would love to see you write this

💖

Too long

Stucky x little neurodivergent reader

Word count: 1,506 words.

Warnings: Reader is sensory averse, mentions of barbershops, scissors, slight meltdown'ish behavior, sensory issues, hair combing/ brushing meaning physical contact, etc.

Age regression is a coping mechanism, if your not knowledgeable and uncomfortable of the topic either read up on it or ignore please <3

No gender, weight, ethnicity or hair type mentioned, reader is at least slightly able bodied in this

Gn reader

90% edited to the best of my ability

Dont like it dont read it especially when theres warnings

It’d been a year and a half of you letting your hair grow out, the goal was a year potentially two if it wasn’t too bad but your hair grows fast and the weight of it being different now from when you had it cut is definitely a feeling that can make you turn on goals.

You made the goal a week after the haircut having already forgotten the burden of it touching your neck and covering your ears.

Hats were now impossible unless you tied it up but than there’d be an uneven feeling against the top of your head and that was not a desired sensation you’d wish to put yourself through.

There weren’t any safe hairstyles that you were able to comfortably do without them tugging on sections or it feeling uneven no matter the help you got from either of your carers.

Steve at shield for a business related event meant you were left with Bucky for the day, he tried his best to implement brushing your hair as a routine part of your day but the tug and pull hurt so had you’d whimper and writher in your spot if someone was brushing it for you often leading to you getting upset and telling them they’re doing it wrong even though they were just as gentle as you were, you would take over and do your very best but no matter how easy it was to get the brush through your hair it still hurt and the bristles and teeth of brushes and combs hurt so bad and felt like rakes in you scalp, currently you were sitting on the counter top infront of the mirror as Bucky carefully brushed and combed your hair.

Your face turned down in a winced frown, tears threating to spill from your glossy eyes, "bubby please stop, hurts bad, i try now" you whimpered trying your very best to keep from taking your painful frustration out on him, he could hear you slipping, "alrighty little bee, I’m going to make a snack for us, ill be right back, just shout of you need me"

you hated brushing your hair so much that you would help Bucky with his so he wouldn't feel the pain you felt.

It was always such an intimate and gentle thing for him, on stressful days where he felt stuck in a mindset that wasn't comfortable he would ask if you’d like to help him do his hair, often leading to him sitting on the floor in front of you how you do with him, carefully working your way through his hair.

He refrained from telling you that the pain and discomfort was probably just a sensory issue possibly allodynia, he feared if you knew it would make you feel lonely and not understood in the struggle.

Gliding the brush through your hair it would get through but it was a struggle.

Once so far into the struggle and pain it became a ticking time bomb for lashing out, a grumble as you tug one last time with no success, you take the brush from your hair, a broken sob taking it in both hand "j-jus stop hurtin mee please hurts so bad i gon break you, i hate youu!" followed by you throwing the offending brush to the floor, getting down from the counter you open Steve and Bucky’s hair styling kit, taking out the scissors and grabbing a chunk of your hair.

Bucky heard the ruckus and knew what was coming, making his way to the bathroom as quickly as he could while keeping a calm composure, he wished with all his heart that he could help you how you do him.

rounding the corner into the bathroom to see you holding the scissors in one hand and some hair in the other, tears burning trails into your cheeks.

"Hey honey bee, lets not do that, sharp objects are dangerous, can you please hand me the scissors precious? "Your  trembly little hands slowly move to carefully hand Bucky the scissors that he sets aside out of reach, pulling you into a hug.

"I know it hurts baby, do you want to research some sensory friendly hairstyles and talk to Stevie about going to the barber tomorrow?  Does that sound okay?"

Reluctantly nodding into his chest he places a feather light kiss to the top of your head, you definitely weren't paying complete attention because normally you wouldn't even consider the barber shop but he carries on for the time being, picking you up taking you to relax in the living room, no more brushing for today.

Steve waking in you hurriedly set your sippy down to go greet him at the door, bouncing on your toes waiting for him to take off his jacket and set his keys down, with every bounce you could feel the ends hit the sides of your face, neck, and your ears, quickly shaking your head to get the feeling to stop and you halt your excited stim, "dada i get haircut tomorrow please?" Still having convinced yourself that its an at home haircut.

Bucky had already briefed him on the decisions of today and the hope for tomorrow over text, also letting him know that youre not exactlyaware it was for a barbershop haircut but alas it was necessary.

"I don’t see why not little bee, has bubby helped you decide what style you want?" Nodding you take his hand pulling him to the couch to show him the picture Bucky saved.

The next day came quickly with you excited for your sensory freedom from pain and discomfort, it finally dawned on you where youre getting the haircut because of your comfort stuffy being safely tucked away in your bag, your hand in both Bucky’s and Steve’s about to walk out of the house when you stopped, terror in your eyes, they dont let go but instead hold slightly tighter onto your hands for what came next, you dropped all of your weight to the floor, there was no way a stranger in a loud building was getting near you with a pair of scissors.

Managing to tear your hands from theirs you sprint off to your playroom hiding in the back of your closet with your comfort stuffie.

They knew this was coming, its no suprise youre terrified,  you only ever acted out when you were uncomfortable or scared so soothing you was the bis step "Baby i know you dont like salons, i promise daddy wouldn't take you to a bad place, its a sensory safe salon, no music, just us and two workers, does that sound okay?" Bucky soothed through the door It honestly did, it sounded much better than a normal barber shop.

you wearily walk into the hair salon for your appointment and like bucky had stated it was a very sensory safe environment which relieved some of the worry.

Being called over you sit in the chair as Bucky shows the hairdresser your choice Steve hands you your comfort stuffie "youre okay baby, i know its scary but we'll be just over there and we wont let anything bad happen to you" you nod and take a few breaths with him and than heads back over to the wait area.

"Quite the change, you’re gonna look amazing, the stylist cheers"

Going forth and doing your hair as decided the stylist makes sure to be as gentle as possible, knowing that your hair is an issue for you she makes the haircut go as quick and smoothly as possible, last in the process she picks up the comb and in that moment you clench your eyes shut taking deep breaths, holding tightly onto your stuffy, the comb easily glides through your hair a breath of relief. the change brought you much comfort, your hair no longer touching you face, neck or ears, brushing no longer feeling like a metal hose clamp to its tightest position and ripping your hair from your delicate scalp, now it felt like nothing, it was perfect.

The hair stylist unclips the cape cover and lets you head over to you daddies, a big grin upon your face, you shake your head rapidly, it felt like wind in the trees, ease and comfort, Bucky went to pay while you show Steve your new hair, "you look so good little love", bucky joins you both with a smile, "you did so good baby im so proud of you".

Stepping out into the slight breeze it felt so good and freeing.

The next while would feel amazing, being able to go about your days with fewer stressors, Bucky loves seeing you start your days with less discomfort and irritation from your hair being an issue, in all aspects its just hair, it doesn't depict who you are its grows back and it can be once again cut, and when that time comes youre certainnext time wont be so scary now that youve found a safe place.

Thank you so much lovely for requesting such a wonderful idea, i really hope this does your idea justice <3

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x gn!reader #bucky fluff #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x little!reader #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x male reader #steve rogers x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x male reader #bucky x gender neutral reader #bucky x you #stucky x little!reader #daddy stucky x little trans reader #stucky x reader fic #stucky reader insert #stucky x reader fluff #stucky x reader #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy steve rogers #stucky x you #stucky x gn reader #stucky x plus size reader

[tyoho8]

CALLING ALL BUCKY FIC READERS!!!

Does anyone know the name of a one shot where Bucky tells the reader that he’s busy with meetings and not to call him unless needed. The readers really sick and calls bucky and he yells at her and she passes out. IF U KNOW IT PLS TELL ME.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes #soft bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #stucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x reader x steve #marvel mcu #marvel smut

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part xviii- the time heist

“am i supposed to be grateful to have survived this?” - brenna twohy

summary: five years after the snap, you still haven’t moved on. but when tony comes calling with a proposition, you aren’t so sure.

wordcount: 4.6k

warnings: cussing, violence, angst, reader has precisely 0 coping skills, events of the first half of endgame

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsprashimusic @yourfavunsub

a/n: two more parts after this 🤭 anyway i’m so sorry @yourfavunsub because it WONT LET ME TAG U CRYIN FR but i do hope y’all enjoy this one. this series has been one of my favs so far and i’m still not sure where i wanna go after this. but love y’all have a nice day 🫶

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After killing Thanos, you run.

You take everything from your rooms in the compound and take off one day after leaving a note to tell the team how to reach you in an emergency.

They respect your decision, especially after hearing you wake up screaming every night.

With nowhere else to go, you head to an old HYDRA safe house. It’s abandoned, obviously, but it has everything you need.

You clean the place up, fix the paint and repair damaged wood. You plant a large garden and buy a few chickens to take care of. You work for two weeks straight.

In the end, the cabin is comfortable. Homey and small but a great place to hide from everything going on. A way to keep running but stay in one place.

The small Romanian town grows used to your presence, and after a few months of living nearby, they don’t even ask about your past when you come to market to trade. They saw the look in your eyes when they asked about Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

You tend your garden that grows every week, in part thanks to your powers that seem to affect the area. You can’t control it, but your crops and flowers grow faster and healthier. In just a year you have a fully-grown plum tree in your walled-off yard.

And the years keep going by.

You celebrate Steve and Bucky’s birthdays every time they roll around, mainly by heading back to Brooklyn for a week and visiting the museum. Your museum.

Despite how often you go, you find that you’re never able to look their pictures in the eye.

All you see is your boys disappearing from your grip.

It’s all you can see when you go to bed.

———————————————————————

“Come, come on Margaret.”

You gather the unusually small chicken into your arms, smoothing her feathers as she clucks in greeting. The birds like you a lot. You suspect it’s the wings.

“It’s about time I fix that fence, isn’t it? If you keep getting out.”

Margaret shuffles indignantly in your arms, bawking as you let her back in the fenced-in chicken coop.

They’re a bit spoiled, you have to admit. All eight hens shared a large coop, with heaters and lights, and hay you change out every week. You let them out every morning and bring them in every evening.

With a light sigh, you start fixing the fence. Enhanced strength makes it easy work as you push the post into the ground, tuck the chicken wire back down, and make sure there are no more holes.

Shaking the dirt from your skirt and wings, you rise and head to the front of your home. As you clean your feathers, your hands pass over the small charms still on them. The ones from Wakanda. From a happier time.

The stone walls surrounding your property have one entrance at a large metal gate, which is currently wide open.

Usually, you keep it open during the day, lest a villager needs a cut healed or extra food. But it’s late now, and you’re ready to head in for the night.

But just as you head to the gate, you see a car. Furrowing your brows, you call out.

“Buna ziua. Te pot ajuta cu ceva? [Hello. Can I help you with anything?]” When no one steps out of the car, you continue. “Am prune în plus [I have extra plums].”

“Come on, (Y/N). Of all the languages I do speak, you know Romanian isn’t one of them.”

A voice comes from behind you and you whip around, firing off a blast of light that the group of three dodges.

Natasha, Tony… and Scott.

Scott was dusted. Five years ago.

You storm up to them, eyes watering.

“What are you doing here? What’s going on?” you ask.

Natasha takes your hand in hers, smiling.

“We might be able to bring them back.”

Your lips purse and you take your hand back, starting to shake. Entertaining such a hopeful idea is dangerous, you’ve learned.

Every night, you dream of your boys. And every time you wake up, you hope that it all was a nightmare and you’ll wake up in their arms.

You never do.

“Don’t tell me that unless you’re sure,” you say, brushing past them and heading towards your house.

They follow you, unsure if this is an invitation or a dismissal.

When you open the door and sigh, they know it’s the former.

“It’s a nice place,” Tony comments mildly. You offer a small smile, stepping into your kitchen. You open a cabinet and grab a tin of tea, the same kind you’d buy in the 40s, and put a kettle on.

You take three cups out, setting them at the dining room table that only has three chairs. Most things here are in threes.

As you hesitate to set the cups down, Natasha speaks up again. Slowly, carefully, as though you’ll run at the wrong word.

“Will you at least hear us out?”

To her credit, you don’t run. You start crying.

Scott and Tony share a look of “Oh, shit,” as the lights start flickering.

“What is there to hear?” you ask, laughing ruefully. “Unless you’re sure, I don’t want to hear anything about it.”

Whistling from the stove catches your attention, and you hurry over to grab the kettle. Like usual, you forget to grab a glove. Your hand meets searing metal and you hiss, cursing your bad habit.

“Are you okay?” Scott asks, standing up quickly.

You nod, eyes watering even more. It’s not from the quickly-healing burn, though. “Yeah,” you sob out. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Leaning on the counter, you take a few breaths. You grab the kettle again and fill all three teacups, dropping in the tea bags and some sugar.

“(Y/N), give us a shot.” Tony takes the cup. “That’s all we’ve got, and you’ve taken chances against worse odds before.”

You don’t dare look at the pictures on the wall.

“These two managed to rope me in, and we need your help. You ran off with Cap to save Barnes, so-“

“That’s before I watched both of them die.” You gently hit the table. “Twice.”

“And we might be able to bring them back a second time,” Natasha adds. “Please?”

A third chance. You’ve seen second chances, but never third. Never. And for you, you rarely got the former.

But here one was.

“Okay. Okay,” you say eventually. They all breathe a sigh of relief.

“Just… find someone to watch the chickens.”

———————————————————————

“I see we’ve both been taking it hard.”

You sit next to Thor on a bench. Everyone else is working on a large platform, but you’ve done your part. The years clearly haven’t been kind to him either. He’s at least 100 pounds heavier and reeks of alcohol.

He shrugs, sipping a beer. “Well, I didn’t have anyone left, so…” He raises the can. “To them.”

You awkwardly form a misshapen can from light and tap it to his.

“To them.”

“Hey Point Break, Lucifer! One of you care to lend a bit of that super-strength?” Tony shouts. You sigh, hoisting a large box of metal supplies in one arm. Tossing it at Tony’s feet, you gesture to the invention.

“So this can do it?”

The genius proudly slaps a metal leg. “Yep. Time travel made simple.” You glance at the complex wiring and countless panels. Sure, simple.

———————————————————————

You watch as Bruce, now half-Hulk half man, Nebula, and Scott test one suit. Apparently, there are risks with time travel. Interdimensional warping, quantum entanglement, String Theory, blah, blah, blah.

You’ve tuned them out by the time Rhodey walks in.

“Time travel suit, not bad,” he comments. As Bruce tries to insert a vial into the suit, Scott snaps.

“Hey, easy, easy!”

“I’m being very careful,” the scientist insists.

The two go back and forth before Scott momentarily disappears. He comes back, sighing heavily.

“There goes the first test run,” you say. When Scott tries to hype himself up to no avail, you pipe up.

“Let me go. Got nothing to lose, right?”

They have you suited up in minutes. The suit, which is nanotech, materializes with a simple tap on the watch, molding around your wings to fit you perfectly.

“(Y/N), now you’re gonna feel a little discombobulated from the chronoshift. Don’t worry about that.” You nod as Nebula types away on a screen.

“Wait, wait, wait a second. Let me ask you something,” Rhodey cuts in. “If we can do this, you know… go back in time, why don’t we just find baby Thanos? You know, and…” He pantomimes strangulation.

“First of all, that’s horrible,” Bruce says at the same time you say, “Honestly, it’s not a bad idea.”

The scientist blinks in confusion before pressing on. “And secondly, time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

You groan as they argue and eventually begin listing movies.

“Boys, as much as I love this little debate, can we get going?” They oblige your request, and head to the main room. The platform stands, ominous and waiting.

“Are you sure about this?” Natasha asks. You nod, smiling.

“I just wanna see them, even just for a second.”

She won’t say it, but she thinks it’s a bad idea for you to go. To see your past selves, before all the trauma. But you’re set on going.

You step onto the machine, flexing your fingers as you watch Bruce press various buttons.

“All right, (Y/N). We’re going in three, two, one…”

It’s like the ground opens up beneath you as you dive in, passing through some dimension in milliseconds before you pop back to normal.

You shout a bit, quickly stifling the sound.

You’re in your old apartment. The radio crackles with familiar music, and your bow sits by the door.

Wandering the small rooms, you finally come to your old closet. When you open it and find the box you’re looking for, you smile and pocket it. Past you forgot it even existed, so it wasn’t like you’d miss it.

The door handle clicking makes you jump, quickly closing the door.

Three voices wander in.

“You need to stop spending all this money, or Stevie’s not gonna have any when we ship out.” Your own voice sounds weird to your ears. Not just in the normal way, but because of how light it is.

The next voices knock the breath from your lungs.

“Hey, it was worth it. I got you that bear,” Bucky retorts. You lift a hand to cover your mouth as you sob.

“Three bucks, though? And you’re supposed to be a sniper?” Steve’s voice is wheezy, thin, and breathless.

“There’s a big difference between throwing a ball in a ring and shooting someone,” the brunet grumbles.

The three of you dissolve into bickering, and all the while you sit in a cramped closet. You haven’t heard their voices in so long. So long.

Maybe you can open the door and warn them. Where to avoid, what to do. How to live a normal life.

The moment you reach towards the door, the watch starts beeping.

“No, no,” you whisper, trying to quiet while frantically fumbling with the doorknob. “Please!”

And you’re back.

You’re kneeling on the platform again, teary-eyed for the umpteenth time and more determined than ever.

The team runs up, and Natasha gently helps you stand up.

“Hey, hey look at me. You okay?”

You catch your breath, reaching into your pocket. “Yeah, yeah, it worked.” You present the small box, clutching it tightly in your hands.

———————————————————————

“Okay, so the ‘how’ works. Now, we gotta figure out the ‘when’ and ‘where’,” you say, standing at the front of a meeting room. Various screens show the various stones, and the gathered team is grasping at any ideas.

“Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones-”

Tony cuts you off. “Or substitute the word ‘encounter’ with ‘damn near been killed’ by one of the six Infinity Stones. You nod. Two out of three times you’d come into close contact with one, it had almost killed you.

Scott shrugs. “I haven’t. But I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.”

Bruce steps around the table. “Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each. And these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history,” Tony clarifies. “So not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

You tap a screen, watching as all six flicker to life with images of each stone. “Which means we have to pick our targets.”

“Correct.”

“So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” When you mention him, you look up to see the god slumped in a chair.

“Is he asleep?” Nat asks.

Rhodey replies, monotone and unbothered as ever. “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

You manage to shake him awake, guiding him to the front of the room and sitting on a nearby stool.

The god coughs a few times, tugging off his sunglasses. “Uh, where to start? Umm… The Aether, firstly, is not a stone. Someone called it a stone before. Um, it’s more of an angry sludge sort of a thing… so someone’s gonna need to amend that and stop saying that.” You massage in between your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

Thor puts in a few eye drops as he speaks again. “Here’s an interesting story though, about the Aether. My grandfather, many years ago, had to hide the stone from the Dark Elves. Ooh. Scary beings.” He makes vague sounds, frightening precisely no one.

“So, Jane, actually-“ He pokes at the screen. “Oh, there she is. Yeah, so Jane was an old flame of mine. You know, she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time, and then the Aether stuck itself inside her…”

You cough to hide a chuckle.

“…and she became very, very sick. And so I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I’m from, and we had to try and fix her.” When you look around the room, Scott, bless him, is the only one paying real attention. You’re pretty sure Clint is asleep with his eyes open.

This doesn’t deter Thor, though. “We were dating at the time, you see, and I got to introduce her to my mother… who’s dead and, um… Oh, you know, Jane and I aren’t even dating anymore, so…” He sniffles a bit, voice growing heavy.

“Yes, these things happen, though. You know? Nothing lasts forever. The only thing that-“

You gesture for Tony to bring his little soliloquy to an end, and the billionaire reluctantly tries to bring the god to a chair. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

Thor brushes him away. “I’m not done yet. The only thing that is permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome. Eggs? Breakfast?” Tony asks. You awkwardly clap a few times.

“No. I’d like a Bloody Mary.”

For the rest of that day and much of the next, you all discuss the rest of the Stones. Where they came from, what their powers are, and everything any of you know about them. And after hours of brainstorming, the plan is all laid out.

Reality is on Asgard in 2013, a mission given to Thor and Rocket. Natasha, Clint, Nebula, and Rhodey will be taking Power and Soul, all in space in 2014. Space, Mind, and Time are all in New York in 2012. And you’re going there alongside Tony, Bruce, and Scott.

“I don’t see how I’ll be much help. These-” You gesture to your wings. “-aren’t very subtle.”

Tony pats your shoulder. “Just c’mon, kid. We could always use the extra hands- or wings.”

“I’m 105, Stark. I’m no kid.”

“You’ve lived less than half of those years. You’re a kid,” he rebuffs. The two of you exchange a smile before he claps his hands.

“Alright, we’ve got a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.” He takes one last glance at the screens. “Let’s break some eggs.”

———————————————————————

New York City, 2012.

“All right, we all know our assignments,” you say, still catching your breath from the jump. “Bruce, get to the doctor. Get the Time Stone.” He rushes off, hurriedly jumping between buildings to stay out of sight. You turn back to Scott and Tony. “You two, get the Space and Mind Stones. I’ll get the Mind Stone once it’s in the elevator, but from there, I’ll only be backup if you get stuck.”

You fly up alongside Tony as Scott shrinks down atop his shoulder, ducking out of view as you spot the team. You can spot Steve, but you tear your eyes away, dropping down in search of the elevator.

Once you find it, you land on a ledge, taking a moment as you wait for the right moment.

“Oh, man. I almost forgot that Cap’s suit did nothing for his ass. I’m almost jealous, (L/N),” Tony whispers over comms. “That’s a slappable ass.”

“Tony!” you snap. “No one asked you to look.”

“But it is slappable, isn’t it?”

You sigh, deep and long-suffering. “Yes.”

“I think it’s great,” Scott pipes up. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass.”

The elevator beeps, and you get ready to ruin a few HYDRA agents’ days.

“Who are these guys?” Scott asks.

Tony starts to explain, not quite minding his volume. “They are SHIELD, well, actually HYDRA, but we didn’t know that yet.”

“Seriously? You didn’t? I mean, they look like bad guys.”

“Yeah,” you shout over the wind. “It’s even more obvious when they’re brainwashing you monthly and prodding you with needles.”

After a bit of shuffling, you see Tony leap from the tower. “It’s all yours now, (Y/N),” he yells. You mock salute, diving off your ledge and watching as the HYDRA agents load into the elevator. You’re going to enjoy this.

As soon as the door closes, you blast a hole in the glass from the outside.

You hear the screams as you barrel in, immediately smashing the emergency call button to bits. No communication.

Fire beams of light as quickly as possible, letting them bounce off the walls in deadly ricochets. Once you take out all but one, you stop.

Brock Rumlow smirks and opens his mouth.

“Свет [Light],” he begins, confidence growing. You watch patiently as he lists off your trigger words, and he finally comes to the end. “Я готов отвечать [Ready to comply]?”

You tilt your head and smile. “I don’t work like that anymore, asshole.”

Grabbing him by the tactical vest, you throw him against the wall, landing a powerful kick to the center of his chest before you start throwing punches. It’s satisfying, watching the man who caused you so much pain actually fear you for once.

You leave him, barely breathing, and pick up the case containing the scepter before starting the elevator and leaping from the shattered glass. You land on a stairwell inside the Tower, hoping to meet up with the other two. Instead, you’re met with one of your best friends.

And he can’t quite believe it.

“Hey, Stevie.”

Instead of the greeting you’re hoping for, the Captain grabs you by the collar.

“Who are you? What’s going on?”

You furrow your brows. “Steve, it’s me. Bucky and I are alive.” When he doesn't let up, you roll your eyes, still adjusting to seeing him after five years. “Stubborn as always, hm? How about I tell you something only I would know?”

He doesn’t respond.

“For example, you wet the bed until you were 7, and one night after you lost a tooth and put it under the pillow you did it again-”

The captain cuts you off, teary-eyed but still mortified. “(Y/N)? Oh my god, it’s you. How did you get wings?”

You barrel on. “-and in the morning you were too embarrassed to admit you’d pissed yourself-”

“Okay, I get it, really-”

“-so you told Buck and me that the tooth fairy did it,” you finish. He pulls you into a hug and you practically melt as he rests a hand on your head.

“Now, I’m from the future, and I really need this scepter, but me and Buck are alive, you’ve just gotta find us.” He never pulls away, just letting you lean into him.

“How am I supposed to find you?”

You sigh. “It’ll all work out in the end. I promise.” You feel him nod into your shoulder.

“I missed you,” he says.

You gently pull away, taking his hand. “I missed you, too.”

“We’ve got a problem, (L/N,” Tony gasps over comms. “Head back to the rendezvous point.”

The blond captain casts his gaze to the ground and purses his lips a bit. A shy tell.

“Guess that’s the future calling?” he jokes. You laugh before your gaze turns a bit sad again. Steve decides he doesn’t like how sad you look however far in the future.

“I love you so much, Steve. Take care.” If the words shock him, he doesn’t give it away.

You give past-Steve one last smile before turning on your heel and heading back to the elevator, prying open the doors, and diving out of the building.

When you land beside your meeting point, all you can do is wait. And when Tony and Scott walk out looking more than discouraged, your hopes sink in your chest.

In between their bickering, they manage to explain. They lost the Tesseract. And there’s no do-overs. You curse, before thinking.

There was a point in time when you were sent on a mission to retrieve Pym Particles. There was also a time when HYDRA was in possession of the Tesseract. But that means…

“I might have an idea. I don’t like it, hate it, actually, but I think it may be our only option,” you finally admit. “There’s a couple of months when HYDRA had both Pym Particles and the Tesseract.”

Scott tries to stand up before hitting his head on the roof of the car they’ve sat down in.

“Wait, HYDRA as in ‘HYDRA’ HYDRA?” he asks.

You furrow your brows. “What does even- You know what? Yes. HYDRA HYDRA.”

“So when was this?” Tony pulls up a screen.

You think about it. You know the time period, but it’ll be easier if there’s less guards around. So what date…

“March 1983. Siberia,” you decide. The peak of the Cold War meant HYDRA was sending out soldiers left and right. Better odds.

Tony nods. “Any particular day?”

“The 10th.”

Scott gets out of the car, much more carefully this time, and holds up his hands.

“So we’re going into HYDRA? No offense, but I don’t want to have to fight past-you or past-Barnes. Or the two of you together,” he says. You smile.

“None taken. But-“ You shove the scepter into his hands. “You’re not going. You’re going to get this back to the compound, okay?”

You see Scott breathe a sigh of relief before quickly hiding it. A few taps to the watch later, he’s gone.

“You sure about this?” Tony asks.

You shake out your hands, getting ready for another disorienting jump to a much more sinister place.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all good. In and out and we’ll be cooking with gas.”

The genius snorts. “Was that some 40s slang that I just heard, (L/N)?”

You roll your eyes, simply setting the date and coordinates in.

“Do you trust me?” you ask.

“I do.”

———————————————————————

HYDRA Base, Siberia 1983.

You almost forgot just how unforgiving the cold gets here.

The wind buffets your body as you and Tony spark into existence, fighting your way to the base. You let him shoot down the man guarding the door before you step over the body. Muttering under your breath, you punch in the code before slipping inside.

Just as you predicted, there aren’t many people prowling around. A few guards that you slip past or shoot down before they even know you’re there, but nothing you can’t handle. Plus, it’s not like you have to worry about an escape route, You can head back to the present as soon as you get the particles.

“They’re in there,” you whisper to Tony, pointing to a nearby lab. “Furthest freezer on the left, third shelf from the bottom. Code is 3395” You silently thank your usually-detested memory as he slips off, politely nodding to one doctor inside the lab before blasting him into the wall.

As he has his fun, you head further into the building, pressing down the nausea that comes with every familiar corridor.

You remind yourself that you’re doing this for the world, for your boys. You can handle a few minutes in this building.

Finally, you reach a locked door. Another code you remember too well.

In the center of the dull room lies a sealed safe. You raise your hand, focusing light to your fingertips before grabbing the lock. It melts in seconds, and you yank the door away.

Shielding your eyes, you reach out for the glowing cube when you hear a voice behind you.

“Что ты делаешь [What are you doing]?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Привет, Зима [Hi, Winter].”

When you force yourself to turn around, you see him. Not quite your Bucky, but not quite the Soldier either. His hair is shorter, but he’s got that same look in his eyes. Still holding the cube in your hand, you step closer.

He reiterates his question, but you don’t answer, instead opting to take his hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” you whisper. “You’re going to get out, and you’re going to be free. Just a little bit more of this, James, I promise.”

He tilts his head, but he doesn’t reach for his guns or knives. You don’t want him to get punished for not dealing with an intruder.

“What?” he whispers back. You can’t bring up the words, so you simply lean into him and rest your head on his chest. The tactical vest is scratchy and uncomfortable, but you ignore it. “Who’s ‘James’?”

“Not important,” you begin before backtracking.

“Actually, no. He’s very important. He’s you, in fact.” Gently bringing his flesh hand to his chest, you smile. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re Bucky. And today’s your 66th birthday -technically.”

The man in front of you is bewildered. It’s as if you told him the world was crashing down. For him, it might seem that way.

“And I know that sometime you’ll go back into that damn chair and you won’t remember I was here, but you will eventually. You’ve just gotta hold out a bit longer, m’kay, love?”

He nods, quiet as ever. You hug him tight, just like you’d done to Steve a few minutes earlier. Or- 29 years later? All this time traveling was messing with your brain.

“I love you, okay? Remember that.”

Bucky is still standing in that room when you slip away, heading down the corridor until you find Tony again.

He holds up two vials of the Pym Particles as you hold up the Tesseract, the both of you grinning wide.

“We’re back in the game,” he cheers. Alarms start going off throughout the base, but neither of you care. The agents will be too late anyways.

“Yes we are, Stark,” you yell over the wailing siren. “Now let’s get them back.”

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