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alisonk0690 · 5 months

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On the Matter of Jewish Characters in Marvel’s Multiple Universes and their application for Fanworks.

(http://cptn-steve-rogers.tumblr.com/) With the current events with the whole HYDRA CAP… It’s so very important to remember that these characters were originally written by a pair of Jewish Men seeing their world turned inside out by the hated and scapegoating of people in their religion and ethnic culture. Cap was written to knock out Hitler /years/ before the United States Joined WWII. They, like others saw that even here in America Jews were being persecuted for their beliefs and ethnicity. Especially in Marvel fics and fandom, there’s such a world of things that can happen. Ways that that narratives can intermingle, be brought to life. Show that Antimemitism isn’t dead, and that its not okay. Keep Jack Kirby’s and Joe Simon effort from being a waste of time. Did Bucky and Steve help liberate a Concentration Camp with the Howlies During WWII? How did that affect Steve Post Defrosting? Does he freak the FUCK out on people using the Holocaust Museum as a “Gym for imaginary creatures DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS PLACE IS? HUH, PUNK? IF YOU GOT YOUR NOSE OUT OF YOUR DAMN CELL PHONE YOU MIGHT LEARN A THING. JESUS H. ROOSEVELT CHRIST. GO IN THERE. EXHIBIT FORTY THREE. SEE THE PICTURE THERE. YOU CAN’T MISS IT. IT HAS MY FACE IN IT.” Was there a moment in which Steve Rogers realized he became Erskine’s Golem? How would that conversation have gone? Does he brings up to Bucky after Italy. After the Howlies are formed? After another HYDRA base falls to his fists? With the fire crackling behind them and their heads on rocks. “You know those stories, about the big clay man your Ma used to tell you?” “Mumphm. The ones Pops said were stupid?” "Yeah..“ "Whatabout ‘em?” "I think I might be one.“ “Go’ta Sleep. Stevie. You’ve breathed in too much tank fumes. ain’t good for your lungs…” Does he realize at a point later, after he’s killed scores of men avenging Bucky’s death that he was never Erskine’s Golem? But Bucky’s? Did Bucky say Protestant on his Enlistment forms because the threat of being a POW was very real? And he knew the state of affairs from letters his Ma got from Great Aunts in the ‘Old Country’ (letters that just stopped one day) Besides, his Old Man is a Goy. So its not technically lying. Is Post WS Barnes currently in a level of disbelief/Hate with God? But remembering these little glimpses of candles and a mother in a Tichel, little girls in their own little scarves and having to sit still on Friday afternoon even though he had a date with Dot or Helen Or Mary Kate, and there was a new Garbo film at the pictures. Besides, it ain’t like their Old Man isn’t going to go to Mass in the morning, and Steve’ll be there with his Ma and his Rosery. And what happens when in strolls this devout but modern woman who is both in tune with her family history, has that respect for it. Has one foot in the old world and one int he new, happily straddles those lines and calls the King of Wakanada 'Ta’challa’ (because eggy bread and Jew Jokes.) How does Darcy Lewis, Granddaughter of a Rabbi (Whos name was changed from something far more guttural and Ashkenazi when they immigrated, the smoking remains of their country still on their heels) with a Star Of David proudly inked into her skin. (she is nothing, if not a walking contradiction.) Does she cook food from the old Country? Make authentic Goulash for Wanda, with the right type of paprika. Does she make Apricot Rugelach and Rosewater Turkish Delight for Barnes because Steve let it slip that he used to be the only one of the Barnes children who actually liked it when the old women from the Kaffeeklatsch brought them by. What of Howard? A man who fought /so/ hard to erase his heritage, A man who rose above his Shirtwaistfactory mother, married a good Catholic Woman. Who helped Jews out of Hungary. Who helped end a war. Who probably carried guilt for the rest of his damned life for being part of that Manhattan Project. A man who passed on his Yiddish phrases to his son. What of Tony? does he have any connection to his heritage at all? (please enter in my current favorite Trope. Darcy Lewis. Illegitimate Stark) And then there’s Romanoff. The woman who only has an inkling that she might have Judaism in her past. If only by her father’s name. And even though she doesn’t feel particularly attached to the heritage. She just have a fondness for little Jewish boys running down cobblestone streets in the old parts of Amsterdam.

Marvel Fanworks, based off of comics written by Jews, should always have this fabric to them. Because the religion and heritage is one of a thousand different traditions, tastes, character traits and passions. And it would be remiss of us as a free people to deny them this history.

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alisonk0690 · 7 months

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Better Than Before

Summary: Bucky wants to erase every disappointing, unsatisfying experience you've had, starting with your first time. He plans on making sure this time is better than anything you ever had before.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

CW: Smut, Oral (fem rec), praise kink, hint of overstimulation kink, minors dni.

WC: 3.7k

AN: Beta'd by the lovely @flordeamatista.

❀Masterlist❀Roommate Masterlist❀Library❀

“You know that means you’re still a virgin.”

His brazen remark coasts over the top of his bottle nestled in his right hand. Avoiding his perceptive gaze, you rest your head against his headboard and fight the urge to fidget across the sheets. God, you should have kept your mouth shut, should have known that he’d keep pulling on that thread until the truth came out, leaving you raw and exposed.

Bucky wraps his fingers around your ankle, tugging once, twice. “None of that shit counts, you know that.”

Maybe.

Still, it doesn’t mean you know what to say or how to handle this—another tug interrupts your musings, instead your mind focuses on the feel of his hand smoothing over your ankle. A small, unworried part of you wonders why such rough, calloused fingers feel so good, so right on your skin.

You shake the wayward thoughts off with a stern reminder that Bucky is your roommate–just your roommate.

Not dropping your gaze from the TV across the room, you wonder if it would be easier to roll over and pretend to sleep until he gives up.

But this is Bucky.

He’s persistent.

And he’s firmly stuck on the whole orgasm thing. Or lack thereof.

And you’re in his room which makes escaping this conversation difficult. Freeing your ankle, he nudges your thigh with the end of his cold bottle, the wet condensation makes you flinch.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You’re not getting out of this.

Sighing, you loll your head onto your shoulder, eyes flicking down to his. “Pretty sure that’s not how that works, Bucky. I’ve had sex.”

He hums in his throat, dismissing your statement. He’s sprawled across his half of the sheets, one leg bent causing the end of his shorts to ride up, exposing his thick thigh. Your eyes drawn to the muscles flexing as he stretches. The low thrum of the tv swallowed by the deafening silence pulsating between you.

Bucky takes a slow slip, polishing off the rest of his beer, intense blue eyes never leaving your face. The longer he stares, giving you that look, the warmer you get, heat fanning down your chest and settling between your thighs. You want to squeeze them together, needing to relive the ache unfurling inside you. A part of you knows if you do, he’ll know exactly what he’s doing to you.

What he’s been doing to you for the past month.

It’s hard to tell the exact moment things changed between you and your roommate. But it's there. An unspoken thing that takes up more space than his hockey gear scattered across his floor.

Maybe it was around the time he kicked your ex out after a particularly nasty fight or the night he held you when you finally got rid of the jackass.

“C'mon plum, I know what you need,” he said, his eyes warm and empathic, not an ounce of pity to be found. He brought you to his room, gathered all two of his pillows and his blanket, wrapped you up, and made you watch every Fast and Furious movie he own, the two of you spent the entire night debating the physics of a branch being able to support a car until you fell asleep.

The next week, you made him watch your favorite chick flicks. He retaliated with a series of horror movies that left you both uneasy.

Tonight it’s John Wick.

The low bass floating from the speakers goes unnoticed. You’re not sure how the conversation led to this point. A casual question about if you’re going out tonight led to you scoffing that you didn’t feel like being disappointed again, he wrangled the truth out of you so slyly that you didn’t realize what you were admitting to until your confession spilled out, splattering between you.

Too late to go back now.

“Like I said.” A smile flits across his pink lips, his tongue peeking out to catch a wayward drop before it slips away. Your eyes follow the slow, languid movements, his lips parting again. “If you didn’t enjoy it, if you don’t cum so hard you can’t hear for a good five seconds afterward, it doesn't count. Therefore You. Are. Virgin.” His words are emphasized by a squeeze on your calf.

There’s a finality to his words like he’s never been more certain of anything in his life. In his eyes, it's a goddamn travesty that your loser of an ex couldn't do the bare minimum of getting you off.

He’s not wrong.

It definitely felt like it at the time. A few hasty, uncoordinated thrusts, one was it good for you, already on his side and half asleep before you could even think to answer. It became a pattern after that, one that left you unsatisfied, wondering if it was your fault while investing in toys that almost made up for his lack of attention.

Another cold nudge brings you back to the present. Raising your brows, you glance at Bucky out of the side of your eye. “What?”

He looks at you, something heady and indiscernible in his deep blue eyes. It makes your stomach drop and twist. A lazy smirk pulls at his lips, stretching across his bearded face.

“I could change that. I’ll be your first Plum.”

You must have misheard. You blink. Slowly. His smirk widens, the ya heard me evident in the way his gaze darkens. No, you did not. Turning your upper body, planting your elbow in the side of your pillow, you stare down at your roommate. “Huh?”

“Huh, she says.” He chuckles softly under his breath. Bucky reaches behind him, his teal henley stretching across his broad chest, outlining the ridges of muscles hidden beneath, a hint of his dog tags peek through the top as he sets his empty bottle on the nightstand with a dull clack. He drops down, grabbing your pillow from under you and pushing it under his head. “You heard me.”

Cheeky bastard.

You inhale a shaky breath, glancing away from him. Your heart is beating too fast, you don’t think you can handle this conversation any longer. Bucky moves to his knees, the bed dipping under his weight. Smooth, cool fingers encircle your ankle again, his thumb sweeping back and forth.

“If you want,” he starts the timbre of his voice, deep and smooth and casual as it sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps prickling across your skin. “I’ll show you how you should be treated. How a real man fucks. I’ll give you a real first time and make it so good you’ll never think of anyone else but me again.” His hand lifts your leg, bringing you to his mouth, barely touching your calf but the warmth of his lips sinks into you like a tattoo. “If you let me.”

“I-” Your eyes widen, his drop to your chest, rising and falling, your nipples tightening, showing through the thin cotton of your shirt.

You want this. Everything in you wants this.

“Please let me.” It's the please that breaks you. His voice laced with desire and hunger for you. Followed by a slow sweep of his lips across your skin, chaining kiss after kiss up your thighs. A silent mantra imprinted by his lips.

Please.

He sets your foot back on the bed, sliding it up until your knee is bent. He moves up your body, his hands on either side of your stomach, kiss after kiss, easing your shirt up until he’s at your breasts. “Will you let me take care of you the way you deserve? Let me make you feel good.”

You nod, swallowing thickly.

The corner of his lips lifts. “Words Plum. Need to hear you say it.”

“I-yes.”

He lowers himself onto you, the warmth of his abs melts into your soft stomach, his erection presses into your skin, hard and heavy. Hands braced next to your head as he lowers his face until his lips are hovering over yours. “Words, Plum.” His voice travels across your skin, the slight brush of his lips teasing you. “Need to hear you say it. Say you want me. I’ll give you anything you, all you have to do is ask.”

The deep blue of his gaze pierces through you, he grins when you tentatively place your hands on the small of his back. “I want–want you Bucky.” He doesn’t move, his brow lifts expectantly, a burst of heat rushes to your cheeks when you realize what he’s waiting for, what he’s making you wait for. “Please fuck me,” you rush out before your nerves get the better of you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he breathes out, his lips slamming into yours. A frantic glide of his mouth over yours, his tongue delving into your mouth.

Bucky wasn’t lying, he’s been craving to discover if you taste as sweet as you look. He is not disappointed. It’s not enough to satisfy his need for you but it takes the edge off his hunger.

His lips slot over yours, devouring you once, twice before slowly turning into something languid and sweet. Savoring your kiss, his hand slips down to the curve of your waist and he drags you into him. His erection hardening against the thin layers of cotton separating you from him.

Kisses chained down your face, across the smooth column of your throat, lacing down your chest as if he’s mapping his way across your body. Each press of his lips is a landmark he intends on coming back to again and again. His lips enclose around one taut nipple, gently scraping it between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth, his fingers plucking at your nipple, rolling it between his calloused fingers. “Bucky,” you choke out, a flare of pleasure shooting straight to your clit.

He kisses the growing wet spot on your panties, twisting them to the side to see your pussy, glistening and dripping. “This for me?” He murmurs, his greedy gaze skating up to your face. “Knew you’d be pretty everywhere Plum.” His praise sinks into your veins. His fingers curl under the band of your panties, easing them down your legs, he tosses them over his shoulder.

His eyes drop to your pussy.

“Been dreaming about this, Can’t believe I’m about to taste you,” he curses under his breath. You barely hear him over the dull roar in your ears, you don’t need to though, not with Bucky staring at your cunt like he wants to eat you whole. So he does. No warning. No teasing–he’ll save that for next time. He licks one thick stripe up through your folds.

“Oh–Bucky,” you keen, voice cracking as your back arches off the bed, your thighs clamp around his head.

His tongue is so warm and wet and oh god–fuck that feels so good–when he drags the tip of his warm, wet tongue around your clit in a dizzying circle only to flatten it and drag it up in one firm motion.

You don’t know if you want to cry out or grab the back of his head and beg for him to do that again.

You do both.

His name jumbled and broken on your lips. our heels dig into his back and you fist his hair, twisting the soft strands between your fingers as you roll your hips, pushing your pussy into his wicked mouth.

As good as it is for you, it’s even better for him.

You taste so sweet–he knew he was going to be addicted to you the second he saw you. He’s going to make up for every lackluster experience you’ve ever had and replace every disappointing memory with the ones he’s going to create for you.

Bucky is going to treat you the way you should have been. He’s been waiting for the opportunity to show you how good it would be if you were his girl.

Bucky slides his hands under your ass, lifting you to his face. He groans your name, the vibration of his deep voice sends another surge of sensations through you. Two fingers slip inside you, curling and thrusting to the frantic rhythm of his tongue. Pleasure winds tighter and tighter around you, dragging you down even as it borders on too much.

Buicky feels you clench around him, the sounds of your moans spurring him on, his eyes locked on your face, watching your expression as you fall apart. Your mouth falling open on a sharp cry, your body tensing as your orgasm spirals wildly throughout you.

This would be enough for you but Bucky isn’t done. Not when he has more to give you.

You feel the soft press of his lips on your pulsing clit and then he pulls back, cool air replacing the warmth of his mouth. His face is drenched, your slick clinging to his beard. He runs his thumb across his lips, licking you off of him with a debauched groan. Quickly getting rid of his shorts, his cock springs free, lightly slapping his stomach. "I’m clean but I can grab a condom if you want. Either way, I can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“I’m on birth control and clean too.” You glance down, pausing at his hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “I want–” Bucky watches your eyes widen as he slowly strokes his cock, your gaze following his hand up his thick, hard length to the swollen tip shiny with beads of precum and he gets painfully harder. “I want to feel you. Just you.”

“Grab the headboard,” he hoarsely demands. The second your fingers curl around the wooden frame, he’s tapping your sensitive clit with the head of his cock. Light jolts of sensations makes you whimper and he inhales sharply, eagerly anticipating all the ways he’s going to get you to make that sound again. “Ready for me plum?”

“No,” you laugh out. You don’t think you’ll ever be ready for him. “Pretty sure you’re about to ruin me.”

“Good, it’s only fair for what you’ve done to me,” he replies, pushing into you with a deep, sure stroke, filling you instantly. You’ll never forget the way his lips part on a quiet gasp, his eyes closing shut as your warm, tight walls surround him.

Your own gasp echoes in the room.

You are so full, so stretched, you’ve never been this full before, your lungs struggle to take in a breath. A slight burning spreads through you but it’s soon lost in the sensation of having him inside you.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” he tells you, resting his weight on his forearms. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

He doesn’t move, holding himself above you. There’s no pressure, no worries that you’re taking too long or doing something wrong. The only way you know he’s affected is by the flush sweeping across his face, yet he doesn’t rush you, smiling down at you like he could wait forever. You swallow down the swell of emotion and taking a shaky inhale through your nose, you run your hands up and down his tattooed back, relaxing bit by bit around him until the sting fades, leaving only a faint pleasurable ache in its place. You tentatively rock your hips and–

Oh.

You do it again, taking more of him inside you.

Oh.

He’s so deep now. You didn’t think you could take him but now–now that’s all you want to do.

“I’m ready.”

Bucky eases out of you and immediately slams back into your pussy with a filthy, frantic swivel of his hips and you keen, unable to control the needy, indiscernible sound from spilling out. His pace escalates, and the wet slapslapslap of skin echoes in your ears.

A steady thread of pleasure winds inside you.

Bucky watches your face, waiting for you to tell him that he’s found what he's been looking for since his first stroke, his angle changing with every thrust.

“C’mon, c’mon Plum, give it to me, let me have it, fuck, let–” he groans, then his swollen head grazes over a sensitive spot just right and your eyes roll back, a sob crawling up your throat. “There it is, that’s my girl.” His pace getting faster, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. “Gonna learn what you like, gonna discover everything this pretty little pussy needs, and give it to you.”

Bucky bites your earlobe, groaning in your ear. “You want it fast and deep,” The bed creaking and groaning under your combined weights. He’s overwhelming your senses. Bucky is all you see. His cologne drifting around you. His warm, heavy weight on you. His soft, deep groans in your ear.

You’re so close, you can feel it wrapping around the base of your spine, thick, hot pressure mounting higher, threatening to pull you under again. “Yes yes,” you sob, grabbing his firm ass in your hands as he grinds deeper and deeper. “Fuck–”

“Mmmhm, don’t think I’m convinced Plum. Maybe you like it, slow and hard.” He pulls out until only the tip of him sits inside you, your walls clench down, trying to bring him back in

“Please,” you mindlessly beg, your fingers dig into his skin, desperately trying to pull him back down. No one has ever made you feel so incredible, you need him back inside you. You’d do anything he’d want right now. “‘m so close, please Bucky.”

“Yeah, you are,” he says, a smug tilt to his tone. “You’re going to cum all over my cock, I promise plum.” He slides back in, inch by inch by inch, a languid, lazy roll of his hips, ensuring you feel each smooth ridge stretching your silken walls, brushing over that soft, sensitive spot. “Just tell me how you need it.”

“I–shit, don’t stop,” you moan into the curve of his neck.

“I won’t. Not until you cum for me.” Bucky takes your hands in his, lacing his fingers through yours, the sweet gesture in dichotomy with the savage way he’s fucking you. “Gonna give you what you deserve plum.”

As the last word leaves his lips, your orgasm crashes into you, and blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, searing through your veins as its pulses deep in your belly.

Oh god, you get it now. It’s so good–he’s so good.

More than you expected. Tears leak out of your eyes, rolling down the sides of your face.

“One more,” breathed into the side of your throat, kissing your sweat-laced skin.

“I don’t know if I—”

“Yeah, you can. Don’t tell me you can’t when I can feel your pretty pussy gripping like she doesn’t want to let go. She needs this. Greedy little thing needs to cum again.” Bucky doesn’t slow down, without breaking his pace, he leans back and lets go of your hands, lifting your hips up. The sudden change prolongs your orgasm, another creeping up. “You got another for me. Play with your clit” he hoarsely demanded, his gaze torn between watching your pussy swallow his cock, glistening with your slick juices and your beautiful face contorted with pleasure.

“Good girl,” he praises when your fingers slide down your belly and sweep across your clit, fast circles that push you closer to your peak. “That’s my good fucking girl.

His hands slide up your back and he pulls you up until you’re sitting on his lap, your arms winding around his neck, you hold on dropping your forehead on his shoulder as he fucks up into your cunt. Bucky takes your chin in his hand, tilting your head back. “Look at me, let me see your pretty eyes.”

You struggle to pry your eyes open, clenching down at the sight of his darkened gaze, only a thin rim of blue visible in his lust-blown pupils. “You’re going to cum for me. Just one more and you’re gonna make a mess all over my cock. Bucky brings your face close to his and he grins. “Those other ones were yours but this one is mine and I want it.”

His voice, desperate and hoarse, tips you over the edge, only this one doesn’t slam into you like before, it creeps up on you, the knot unraveling slowly until you’re consumed. More tears spill out. A sob tears from your throat, and a litany of BuckyBuckyBucky rolls off your tongue.

“I got ya, I got ya pretty girl. That’s it, knew you could cum for me. S’proud.” Biting his lip, his chest heaving as you grip him so sweetly, he doesn’t want to stop fucking you, doesn’t want to pull out. Bucky is already making plans for you, one that involves keeping you wrapped around him for the rest of the weekend. In his bed, your bed, on the kitchen counter, and a few times in the shower.

He lets go, dropping his weight onto you, fucking you into the mattress. Bucky takes your chin, turning your face towards him, kissing you, warmth filling you as he cums, his hips jerking erratically once, twice. A small part of you preens—feeling him lose control is nearly as good as hearing him moan your name. Knowing you’re the one to do that to him is even better.

Bucky rolls over, taking you with him. His large hands sweep up and down your back. "How was that?" he asks genuinely.

“Incredible. That was–,” you blow out a breath, “better than I expected.”

He smiles softly. “Yes, you are, “ he murmurs, holding you close to his chest. “I had to go easy on you because it was your first time and all,” Bucky says, scrunching his nose. “Next time though, I won’t hold back.”

Your brows furrow and you gesture at your still-joined bodies. “That was holding back?” Bucky laughs, the rich sound vibrates through your chest. “Wait. No–you were holding back?

“There’s a lot of things I’m going to do to you. That was just a sample of what you can have. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” The hopeful glint in his expression steals your breath. “You will though. If you want me, I’m all yours. All you have to do is say yes and I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Yes, Bucky.” You don’t hesitate, not even embarrassed by how quickly it rolls off your tongue. It’s not every day that you have Bucky Barnes between your thighs and you’re not about to pass up the opportunity to be his girl. Crossing your arms across his chest, you look down at him and match his grin with your own. “But let's talk about this holding back thing. Because if that was you holding back, I’m pretty sure the next time is going to destroy me.”

He leans up, his hand curving around your jaw as he kisses you again. When he pulls back, there’s a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

"Oh, I plan on it."

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