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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦

It was an old wives tale that you put no stock in: that a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach — though this time, it worked, and it worked better than you could have ever imagined.

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

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ༄ 2.4k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ༄ Fluff, extreme tension of the spicy kind, implication of a poly relationship (Steeb and Bucko are married but it doesn't stop them) and they are menaces

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ༄ Look, I can't help what I did here. I just thought of their uniforms. You're welcome.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ༄ Moments Silence (Common Tongue) by Hozier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༄ @stuckybingo 𝗕𝟱 — Firefighter AU — Masterlist

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been a day. And on days like this, you turned to baking; sugar was a sure-fire way to improve anyone’s mood.

You weren’t sure how you had gone that overboard, though. Your kitchen, once spotless and organised, was in disarray with trays of muffins and cookies that were overloaded to the point they were almost overflowing.

It wasn’t a baking disaster, no — it was just a severe overestimation of the ingredients, that’s all.

The clouds out of your kitchen window looked stormy and grey, and a steady breeze rustled the trees lining your yard, and you sighed, glancing back down at the array of sweets. You came to a decision then. The firemen — and firewomen — at your local station; they were always giving to the community, fearlessly putting their lives on the line to save others and help them.

They deserved some sweet treats, too.

With your arms ladened with containers of baked goods, you placed them on the back seat of your car and then started the engine. The fire station of your small town wasn’t too far away, so you cranked up the volume of your radio and began the quick drive, a big smile on your face.

There was a bus parked just down the road with the sign for children boarding, and the smile on your face widened. Today must have been field trip day, and where better to do it than here? Children were standing just inside the station's roller doors where a truck sat, lights flashing bright; red and blue bouncing and reflecting off of gleeful, childish smiles.

You hummed quietly to yourself and parked your car, a small distance away to keep the driveway clear — after all, emergencies didn’t stop just because children and baked goods appeared.

A loud whoop of a siren echoed as you made your way to the open roller door and the children squealed, making you grin behind the towering containers in your arms, overjoyed to have picked such a cheerful day to share.

“Kids, settle down,” a deep voice called, the smile evident in the tone. You peered around the doorway and saw a fireman, a toothy smile surrounded by an immaculate goatee. “Now, are you ready to see how we get down the pole,” the man pointed over his shoulder towards the shining fireman’s pole by the stairs, “over there?”

A collective cheer came from the children and you lowered your arms just a little bit so you could see over the top container better. The doorway was partially in the way so you stepped inside, and the man spotted you. “Hi there,” he said, and you smiled back. “Just a minute. Buck can help you when he gets down here.”

“No worries at all,” you said, and Sam — as his name badge on his chest showed — winked before turning back towards the pole.

“Buck, Steve! Show these kids how it’s done.”

Heaven above, you were not ready for what would come sliding down that damned pole.

The squeak from the sole of boots and the pull of skin against metal sounded and your mouth opened in a quiet gasp, the containers nearly tumbling from your arms.

A blonde man, the size of a fucking tree, you swore, slid down first. The pants of his uniform were held up by red suspenders that lay over an extremely muscled chest, on full display through an extremely tight grey shirt. He landed on the cement floor with a grunt and spread his arms out, a wide, toothy grin on his face as he took in the clapping children.

“C’mon, Buck,” he called, looking up at the hole in the roof. “Get down ‘ere!”

It was a miracle that the children cheered again, because the noise that left you when ‘Buck’ slid down the pole was not dignified.

‘Buck’ was just as, if not, taller than the blonde you assumed now was Steve, and definitely broader. Dark brown hair fell down his face in strands while the rest was kept up in a messy bun. His grin was wide, happy, and bright, and his face was covered in a light dusting of stubble. The dark red, almost burgundy shirt that he was wearing was arguably tighter than Steve’s.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered when Bucky stood next to Steve, throwing a tattooed arm over Steve’s shoulder, grinning down at the kids that barely reached their knees. “Oh, fuck.”

Fate wanted to laugh at you, however, because it was at that moment that both Steve and Buck looked over at the open doorway, their grins growing wider by tenfold once they managed a glance at your floundering expression.

“Take care a’her,” Sam, the man with the goatee said before gathering and herding the kids towards the far wall, where uniforms and helmets hung ash stained, but proud.

They sauntered over, and it was all you could do to not fall to the floor with wobbling knees.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said brightly, and you bit back a whimper. “What can we do for you?”

Uselessly, you glanced between the two of them – struck by how damn handsome they were up close. It put all your calendars to shame.

“Doll?” Buck said, raising a brow and offering his arms to take the containers. “Lemme take them for you.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, immediately growing anxious at the loss of the barrier you had to hide behind. “I-I baked them for you guys, as a thank you for all you do for us–”

“Is that a batch of cookies I see?”

Bucky turned at the voice, but Steve was still staring at you, a smirk growing on his pretty pink lips–stop it! You chided yourself.

“Clint, back off, they’re mine!” Buck yelled, pulling the containers tighter to his chest and shifting closer to Steve until their shoulders bumped.

A snort sounded behind them and you watched another blond approach, rolling his eyes. “Yeah,” Clint said, waving a hand as he entered what looked like an office. “Like your husband would protect you when he could take them all for himself.”

Immediately you looked at Bucky’s left hand, ignoring the way the intricate tattoos contrasted against his skin in the light, and saw two gold bands — one wider than the other with black and red stones. You felt crestfallen, it was a shame–

“What’re you staring at, sweetheart?” Steve piped up suddenly, a dangerously mischievous glint in his eyes. “You eyein’ up my husband?”

The ground couldn’t swallow you whole quick enough, and your eyes widened. “No!”

Buck laughed and shook his head. “Like you weren’t enjoyin’ it, punk.” The containers shifted in his arms and he offered his hand. “I’m Bucky, and this here is Steve.” You offered your name and gasped as Bucky pulled on your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Stop swooning and just ask her out for coffee, you fool,” Steve snapped and rolled his eyes, taking the containers from Bucky and striding away, pausing only to wink at you.

Time had frozen. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “What the hell just happened?”

“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Bucky said, staring at what you would guess to be Steve’s ass as he walked away. “Anyway,” he turned back to you and you realised belatedly that he was still holding your hand. “Thank you, doll, we appreciate it a lot.”

You looked up at him and smiled the best you could — you were still reeling from the shock of whatever the hell just happened. “You’re welcome,” you said quietly, and Bucky tilted his head slightly. It was like a punch to the gut, seeing his hair brush against his cheeks, and the way his grey eyes shone in the light. “I better go–”

“Where you goin’?” Bucky interrupted. He was still not letting go of your hand.

Staring up at him, you struggled for words before settling on, “Home.”

Bucky raised a single brow in question, and shook his head slightly, as if amused. “You don’t sound so sure about that, honey.”

Oh, god, you thought.

“Come stay a while, the kids are leavin’ soon,” Bucky said, gesturing towards the kids with a nod of his head. “And this way we can give our compliments to the baker directly.” His smirk — god, it would be the death of you. “I owe you a coffee, c’mon.”

The tug on your hand was like a jumpstart to your heart, and you followed on autopilot while Bucky walked towards another door. His heavy boots slapped against the floor and you watched his back ripple as he walked, barely restraining yourself to just reach out and run your hand over the muscle, to feel the power and strength of them.

“There he is,” Steve said suddenly, his head poking out the door just ahead. “I was about to come and pull you off her.”

“Like you wouldn’t join in, punk,” Bucky huffed, and you stiffened, your mind racing. Just what kind of marriage was this?

The door opened and Bucky pulled you inside. It was a breakroom of some description with lockers lining one side of the room, while tables littered the middle, surrounded by mismatched soft chairs. A red-haired woman was perched on a black chair just inside the entry, while a younger man stood at the lockers – both of them were staring right at you as you entered behind Bucky, the young man with wide eyes, the woman with narrowed eyes, like she was appraising you.

“Who’s this?” The red-head asked, a sly smirk pulling at her lips when she glanced down to see Bucky still holding your hand.

“This is the lovely dove that baked us all these goodies,” Clint piped up suddenly behind you.

The young man ran towards Steve who was setting out the baked treats, snatching one with a laugh when Steve pushed him away. “Kid, you got no damn patience, d’you?”

“No,” he answered, and he looked at you, waving happily. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Hi Peter,” you said softly. Bucky pulled you closer again and you were suddenly against his side, his arm over your shoulder and all you could smell was him — woodsmoke, some kind of spice, and just Bucky. You gulped quietly and smiled at the red-head who stood slowly and made her way over to the table, then Steve. “I hope you like them,” you gestured to the containers.

“Make way!”

Bucky pulled you to stand beside the door and the man with the goatee appeared, grinning happily and making a beeline to the table of containers. “That’s Sam,” Bucky whispered, pointing at Sam’s back with the hand over your shoulder. “He’s the fire chief.” Then he pointed at the woman, a slight smile on his lips when you looked up at him. “That’s Nat, and I am terrified of her.”

“I heard that, Barnes,” Nat said suddenly, her back still to you as she perused what was on offer. “Watch it.”

Unseen by her, Bucky grimaced exaggeratedly and saluted. You laughed.

“Alright,” Steve said, clapping his hands. He took a seat on a couch you didn’t notice before and he patted the cushion next to him. “Come sit down, sweetheart,” he said, though you had no choice because Bucky had started to steer you towards him. “You deserve to enjoy your baking, too.”

You landed with an oof against Steve’s side, and Bucky followed, sitting on the free cushion with a loud groan. “Haven’t sat down all day,” he complained. Steve rolled his eyes and offered you a muffin that you took with a smile.

The containers slowly emptied and so did the room. Clint, Natasha, Peter, and Sam had filtered out to the office, leaving you alone with Steve and Bucky.

“So, sweetheart,” Steve purred suddenly, and your gaze snapped to his face. You could feel Bucky shift next to you but you were trapped in Steve’s gaze, a deer in headlights. “What d’you say, huh?”

You baulked, not even registering Bucky’s hand on your shoulders, slowly moving up to grip the back of your neck. “What?”

Steve chuckled and Bucky huffed a laugh, putting more pressure on the back of your neck – enough to cause you to shiver. “Come home with us, doll,” Bucky said, his voice low and hoarse. A shudder flew up your spin and you couldn’t form words. It was all too much of a shock–

An alarm echoed in the breakroom and you jumped a foot in the air.

“Damn it all,” Steve groaned.

Bucky looked to the ceiling and let go of your neck. “Always the fuckin’ way.”

“What’s happening?” You asked, looking between the two as they got to their feet, slight frowns on their lips.

“Time to go save lives,” Steve winked. “Tell ‘er, Buck, I’ll see you out there.”

You watched Bucky nod and offer a hand to pull you up, only when you took it, he pulled you tight to his chest, a slight chuckle rumbling in his throat when you let out a small noise of surprise. His hands gripped your shoulders and pushed you back so he had to bend slightly to look you in the eye, it was all you could do to not whine needily at the action — why was he so damn tall, you cursed.

“Here,” Bucky said, pulling a small card and a pen from his pants pocket. He stood there for a second scrawling something, and then he handed it to you. It was a phone number. “Call me later.”

There was a shout from out by the truck and Bucky winced. “I gotta go, doll,” he rushed, and he placed a quick kiss on your cheek, the stubble on his jaw tickling slightly.

“Okay,” you said numbly, still in shock. Bucky smiled and ran from the room; the yells of his crew audible even over the alarm. Slowly, you ran your finger over where he kissed your cheek.

You couldn’t shake the warmth you felt when you sat next to Steve, nor could you shake the comfort you felt from Bucky’s touch. It was surreal. They were married to one another, but yet, here they were so openly flirting with you – you were intrigued, happy even for that fact.

Suddenly, as you walked back to your car parked a small way away, thumbing at the small card in your hand, you realised bringing treats to the station may have just changed your life.

And you could not wait.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

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w1nter-wolf-barnes1 · 2 months

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Poor Buck he truly loves him Steeb but he puts up with a lot

#bucky barnes #marvel #stucky #steve rogers #stevebucky

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upsidedownwithsteve · 11 months

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I’m sorry you feel that way Emmy. I’m sure it’s gonna turn out great I have faith in u!

Anyway I have a smutty steeb for u- giving steve a sensual handjob and he’s whimpering so much😮‍💨 while your stoking him your also kissing him all over and he’s just red in the face so in love🥰 he finishes in your hand with gasps of your name and I love yous strung along

18+

“S’okay, baby,” your voice was sticky soft, thick with affection. “Feels good, yeah? Y’gonna come for me?”

You were on Steve’s lap, legs splayed over his thighs, enough room between you both for your hand to wrap around his cock, your face ducked down to his, nose nudging sweetly against his own as you spoke. The boy was half dressed, shirt whipped off an age ago, hair messy from your hands, cheeks all flushed and pink from your touch. His boxers were tucked down his hips, leaking cock pulled free from the cotton so you could tug at it, fingers barely able to wrap around the thickness of it.

Steve nodded, groaning, whining, so far gone after he’d sat so sweet for you, letting you play with him, fingers dancing over his hipbones, palming at his cock until he was canting up into your hand, begging. You thought he’d blacked out when you let a line of spit drip from your lips onto his tip, your small hand spreading it around his length, the sticky mess of him making filthy noises, dirty sounds that mixed with his pretty moans.

He looked indecent now, close to the edge for too long, eyes heavy and glassy, lips red and swollen from your tongue and teeth. Steve could only say your name, gasping it like a prayer, like a curse, his hands holding tightly at your hips, fingertips squeezing at the soft skin there like he was scared you’d stop, that you’d get off from his lap and leave him hanging.

You didn’t dare. You couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you like that.

‘Fuck, fuck, honey,” Steve was gasping, head dropping forward so he could hide his face in your neck, his rosy cheeks warm against your throat. “M’close. Shit, shit, feels so good, fucking Christ, love you, love y— gonna come, fu-uck—”

You pumped him a little faster, thumb swiping over his tip, the entire length of him slick with your spit and the way he’d leaked for you the entire time, needy and desperate. You felt him tense, blunt nails digging into your skin—

“Steve, baby, look at me,” you ordered, voice soft but demanding, hand threatening to slow until he obeyed. “C’mon, Stevie, let me see how pretty you look for me— there you go, handsome.”

Steve had did as you asked, pulling away from the crook of your neck to lean his forehead against your own, jaw handing slack and lips parted and pink as you picked up the pace, watching the way his features crinkled, brow furrowing and lashes fluttering as he swore and groaned loud.

“Baby.” It was a warning.

“I know, I know, come for me, Steve, please? Make a mess all over my hand, there you go…”

That’s all it took, the boy spilling all over your fist, hot and fast, panting as his hips bucked up. You slowed, fingers messy with his come, slipping around his shaft as you worked him down, leaning forward to plant little kisses across his cheeks, his jaw, his chin.

“Good?” You asked, humming when he flopped back against the headboard, pillows barely softening his landing.

Steve couldn’t speak.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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stvharrngton · 1 year

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Steeb would fr go blank for like 5min if u even mentioned 69

HE SO WOULD!! he’s asked you to sit on his face or something like that so you go ‘can we try something else?’ and i feel like steve is always up for anything you want to try so he’s already game for whatever you had in mind and ur like ‘can we 69 maybe?’ and his poor brain short circuits cause omg. that’s so fucking hot. like steve LOVES when u sit on his face but the proposition of you sitting on his face AND getting sucked off at the same time? he’s all but rock hard already, pre-cum leaking, cock begging to be sucked on. so when stevie boy has finally collected his thoughts he’s pushing his boxers down as quick as he can, pulling you up onto his chest so you can get yourself in position and he just groans at the sight of you, your pussy dripping wet on his tongue already and he’s barely even touched you. his large hands grip your ass and he’s kneading the flesh whilst you ghost your fingers over his cock, tongue swirling around his tip and he just goes hell for leather. burying his face in your pussy and he essentially just. fucking makes out with your cunt, tongue swirling around as his lips move so softly over you. we all know steve eats pussy like his life depends on it but he’s always so vocal with it, moaning and groaning as his eyes are squeezed closed but he’s so much more louder with your lips wrapped round his throbbing cock, his toes curling into the sheets as he has to resist the urge buck his hips and fuck his cock up into your mouth. the vibrations ripple through your body as you moan around him which makes his cock twitch in your mouth. steve definitely takes a breather though, a break so he can smack your ass, his lips kissing over your pussy so he can moan out ‘you taste so fucking sweet, baby’ ‘little pussy’s just dripping for me, isn’t she?’ AHHHHHSJSJSK

#I S THIS TOO KUCH IM SORRY #i could have kept going #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #Anonymous #asks #k.hc

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Kink Bingo - Praise Kink

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1, 765

Tags: Dead dove, WHUMP?, Hydra Trash Party, Mentioned rape, Dub-con, confused WS murder meow meow, hydra!handler!reader, praise kink, touch starved Buck, hand jobs, He’s Just Super Sensitive Blame The Serum, crying what’s new, she loves him in the worst way possible

A/N: I haven’t really written something dark like this in awhile so WARNING! The one Russian translation is thanks commander. Poor Bucky but he gets petted and praised by an insane Soviet for a little bit. Subtle Steeb reference at the end. Listened to gimme danger the entire time.

You leaned back in the stiff leather chair, waiting for your delivery. Strike team was bringing the asset to your office at some point. Your mouth pinched at the thought— they played too rough with the poor thing. Soldat was the fist of Hydra, not a common whore. You didn’t like the Americans very much, but Karpov had sent you along with the asset to get adjusted to being under Alexander Pierce’s control.

So you handled your precious boy until the Americans grew tired of you. They’d already beaten the little life the asset had left into a pulp. He was even more quiet and confused than in Siberia. You’d give him some peace before being discarded, hopefully by the greatest creation of Hydra.

The door opened, the young agent Rumlow shoving the asset inside with an irritated noise. You raised a brow at Soldat’s state— bloodied and bruised moreso than the average mission. Rumlow barked, “He didn’t listen, stupid fuck needs to get wiped again. Got punished, so stop looking at me like that Komandir.”

“Fuck off,” you hissed.

Rumlow slammed the door with a scoff. Your precious soldat stumbled forward dazedly. He knew the drill even between countless wipes, come report to the handler after a mission. Soldat limped forward and kneeled between your legs, wide blues looking up blankly. His nose was bruised, one of his eyes bloodshot and blackened.

You frowned and carded a gentle hand through his thick brown locks, sighing softly. His jaw twitched, throat bobbed. You stated, “Status report.”

His robotic reply came quickly, “Fractured left orbital, nasal fracture, broken anterior ribs nine and ten. Palatal Petechiae, anal fissure.”

You almost hissed at the last part. The strike team was a bunch of mongrel deviants, using the asset to sate their primal urges. With a coo you placed both hands on his cheeks, carefully thumbing over his black eye.

“Baby, poor baby,” you simpered. His wide eyes searched your face, glassing over with tears. You lied, “Those strike team boys are dogs. You’re just so pretty they can’t help themselves.” Soldat whined sadly through his swollen nose, guilty gaze flicking to the ground.

“I didn’t listen- I- I need maintenance,” he said.

He thought he deserved it. He probably didn’t, they just searched for ways to inflict torture. Nasty American pigs. You would make soldat feel better in the meantime. He loved praise and petting, baby was so touch starved. Vasily had taught you that about the asset. Said it makes him more obedient in close quarters because he gets so overstimulated and needy.

“Soldier,” you sweetly said, “You’ll get your maintenance soon. Let your handler take care of her precious star.”

You moved your hands to gently scratch at his scalp, frowning at the pieces that were obviously ripped out using force. You murmured, “How did they use you?” Soldat had to open his hazy eyes, almost purring at your ministrations.

“They used my anus and throat. Multiple members of Strike team Alpha,” he rasped oh-so-quiet. You bit back another hiss, focusing on untangling his dark locks.

You liked the way his English sounded. Your accent was thick and guttural. The asset’s English was soft-spoken, lilting, pretty. You knew it was his native tongue long ago. Pierce told you to stop speaking Russian with Soldat, who currently leaned into your touch, quivering muscles settling down. His injuries would be slowly knitting up— the bruises would be a couple of days, the broken bones a couple more.

Soldat was perfect like that. You ordered, “Just relax precious, if you can.” He nodded obediently, stable hands clasped behind. You worked on the multiple buckles and zips caging in his finely tuned body. Soldat’s titanium arm clicked and clacked in the quiet room, the only noise besides the hum of the A/C.

You peeled off the tight leather from his torso, sucking in a breath at the bruising. You sighed again, “My poor baby, they did a number hm?” He nodded slowly, lips trembling. You rubbed at the knots in his thick shoulders, the asset moaning softly. He never got very loud, but the cries and sniffles when he came were divine.

“Such a pretty angel baby, I know you did great, you always do.”

He vaguely nodded, a half-assed jerk of his pretty jaw. The soldier whimpered, “C-commander please.” His swollen red lips still pouted and shook, sobs threatening to rip out of his sore throat. You purred, “Do you want a reward soldier? Sweet baby.”

“Mhm,” he croaked.

You eyed his peaked nipples and straining bulge in his cargo pants. He had a pretty cock, flushed and thick, just huge, like the rest of him. You unbuckled his belt easily, sliding the pants down strong thighs. They even quivered under your attentions. You couldn’t help the quirk of your lips at soldat gasping when his swollen cock slapped his toned stomach.

You pressed soft kisses to his neck and jaw, wandering hands paying mind to the broken parts of his body. Awkwardly you ushered the naked asset up, leading him forward to sit on your desk. His thighs tantalizingly spread out when he sat down with a wince. You apologized, “So sorry sweet boy, I’ll make it better then you’ll get some rest.”

“спасибо командир,” he murmured.

You chided, lips ghosting over his own, “No Russian, remember baby? I know the Americans are confusing.”

His lips puckered eagerly, waiting for a kiss. You closed the distance, winding a hand into his long locks. You rubbed soothing circles while sharing his lips in slowed smacks. The asset liked everything slow, you figured it kept him relaxed. Nothing like the jackhammering cocks of the disgusting strike team.

He whined happily into your mouth, arching into your body. You smiled, sweet thing wanted his tits touched but wouldn’t dare to ask. So you did it for him, “You want me to play with your tits baby? My needy star.” He nodded frantically, chasing your lips to crash back against his.

You slid the hand from his hair and hip to rub wide circles on his built pecs.

Then you ran your thumbs in tight motions on his dusky nubs, so fucking gentle like your super-soldier pet would break. You knew he would if he could. The asset shivered, a thin whine of ‘commandeeerrr’ elicited instead. You clenched your thighs to dull the ache. You never fucked the asset. Just played with him until he got his sweet release.

You weren’t like the thugs here taking and taking. Soldat needed you like the oxygen in the air. He needed some sort of twisted love in his lonely life. You sucked on his tongue to abate the pang in your chest from the thought of abandoning your sweet boy.

Soldat’s arm shifted and whined in random intervals— signals just as overwhelmed as the rest of him. You kept up the assault on his nipples, the poor thing’s drool making your kiss grow sloppier and wetter. He mewled into the lazy movements, hands trembling. You murmured, “You can touch baby boy.”

You almost squeaked at the feeling of his big hands groping your ass. He tried to be gentle but soldat rarely knew his own strength. You’d cherish the usual mottling of your skin afterward. He brokenly panted, “Commander, feels…s’good. Thank you.” His dark lashes fluttered when you pinched his now swollen peaks, full lips hanging wide open in ecstasy.

“No need to thank me precious, I know my perfect boy needs it. Do you want me to play with your pretty cock?”

He let out a mournful noise— huge arms pulling you even closer. Soldat would probably latch onto you like a puppy if he didn’t have orders. He pled, “Will you, pl-please please.” The asset flushed and winced, expecting a slap for asking questions. You pressed your lips to his slick mouth and hummed, “I’ve got you, my star has such manners.”

You pulled back, his brows furrowing in distress at the absence of your mouth. You let your collected drool drip into your palm and wrapped it around engorged flesh. He cried out and bit down to stop the noise.

“Don’t hide your sweet sounds from me, I want to hear my precious boy.”

A choppy exhale of breath was your answer. He squirmed and sniffled as you methodically fucked your fist on his cock. Slow, slow, a rough twist on the head and your prize was trembling like a virgin. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, puffing hot breath on the thin cloth of your top. The asset babbled random words in different languages interspersed with the most breathtaking little sobs.

You slid your thumb around the extra sensitive frenulum, the sweet thing sniffling and wetting your shoulder with tears. He tried to speak, “K-Ko- hah, haaah, mmh, fuck!” Your other hand— once tight in his perfect hair slid down to cup his overfull sac. You squeezed at the heated flesh. Soldat muffled his wail, hands scrabbling at your body.

His back was painfully arched, you ordering him to relax some. He did with a pitiful mewl, soaking more tears into your turtleneck. You grinned at the tell-tale little sobs. He’d get so pitchy you felt bad for your simple little weapon, his throat probably hurt even more from the high sounds. You husked in his ear, “That’s it my good boy, singing so pretty for your commander, you needed it baby.”

He was rutting into your fist with abandon, the left arm going off with buzzing signals. You dug your thumb into his weeping slit, guided a gentle finger holding his balls to that loose skin behind. You pressed up and gasped when Soldat almost crushed you with his arms, shaking and coming apart at the seams. The asset couldn’t catch his breath, aborted tiny cries leaving his swollen throat.

He wept openly now— flushed member shooting rope after rope of white cum. He stained your already ruined top and flooded your fist. You pumped Soldat through the climax until he mewled and shied away. He seized your lips again passionately, pouring singleminded need into the action. You kissed the perfect asset back, pressing your tits against his broad chest. You wanted to steal him away in the moment, leave with the priceless thing and start anew somewhere.

But that wouldn’t happen. He’d realize you’re just as tainted as the rest of Hydra and probably kill you as his brain inevitably cleared up. So you’d enjoy your pliant, perfect toy for now. You mumbled against insistent lips, “Baby did so good, Commander loves you. Precious star.” He teared up again— not sure where he remembered another voice telling the asset that he was loved.

#READ THE TAGS AND TW #PLS #dead dove do not eat #whump #hydra reader #winter soldier bucky #bucky is touch starved #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #hydra trash party #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #kink bingo

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novas-fic-recs · 1 year

Text

bucky barnes fic recommendations

my welcome post

my favourite fics and headcanons about the wonderful bucky barnes! none of these were written by me, so make sure to give lots of love to the amazing writers who did write them! this will be updated as i find more.

silent girl + the winter soldier by @kinanabinks

summary: after a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.

seceret santa by @buckybarnesandmarvel

summary: the team decides to do a secret santa… of course you get the one person you’re in love with

secret girlfriend by @jenwritesstories

summary: steve thinks bucky has been acting weird lately, and after asking him what's going on, he takes matters into his own hands and follows him.

bucky barnes hcs by @b6cky

summary: what the title suggests

hc: peter's science fairs by @golden-barnes

summary: you and buck are like parental figures to peter parker and you have a little tradition before and after his science fairs.

theatre by @loving-barnes

summary: a bucky fic inspired by the avengers musical in hawkeye.

rain therapy by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine

summary: the line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. it’s a line that you and bucky just can’t seem to break, but it’s nothing one of tony’s infamous parties can’t fix.

differently by @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo

summary: you treat bucky differently than the other avengers do.

who's she? by @itsapeterthing

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

confrontation by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

summary: you and bucky have been together for some time now, so hearing he got himself arrested (again) makes you panic, to say the least

mr. barnes, teacher aide of the year by @soulgazingwithbucky

summary: your brooding avenger boyfriend becomes a regular visitor in your classroom.

dating bucky barnes by @beyondspaceandstars

summary: what the title suggests

the widow by ↑

summary: what bucky dating a widow (from black widow) would be like

midnight blue by @cupids-crystals

summary: two resident insomniacs find company in the quiet hours of stark tower

bucky barnes as your boyfriend by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: what the title suggests

secret book club by @starks-hero

summary: bucky’s got a new book and he just can’t seem to put it down.

right a wrong by ↑

summary: you, sam and bucky get to work repairing sam’s family boat. turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. but with help from you and sam, bucky figures some stuff out.

welcome to new york by @lives-in-midgard

summary: reader moves to new york to start a new life and meets bucky there....

restoring a legacy by @alisonsfics

summary: you are there when bucky finds out about the “new cap”

the forever third wheels by @witchywithwhiskey

summary: it's the weekend of your town's annual valentine's day carnival and you go with your group of friends, though you can't help but be sad you don't have someone special in your life. your friend, and fellow third wheel, bucky barnes makes it his mission to give you a valentine's day you won't soon forget—and show you how special you are to him.

knock by @biisexualemma

summary: bucky and you never get along, but he walks in on you needing help.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes fic recommendations #marvel fic recs #marvel fic reccomendations #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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sanguineterrain · 11 months

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hehe hiii sanne. do u have any thoughts about steeb in that wonderful mind of yours that u want to share with the class (me)

u didn't ask but rn i'm thinking about cowboy steve n how his hair would be a little lighter bc he spends more time in the sun and also he would have more freckles also bc of the sun. and the way he'd occasionally just take off his hat and plop it on ur head when ur riding him n say that ur the cowboy now

okay um 🧍‍♀️something has been unleashed and I wrote a cowboy!steve x outlaw!reader thingy (gn reader | 561 words) @inkluvs

****

"Are these really necessary?"

You look down at Steve from your place on his lap. Your hands are still cuffed behind you.

"You're a criminal," he says, a touch strained. "'S a necessary precaution in my line of work."

You'd invited yourself into his lap a couple of minutes before. Neither of you has taken issue with how it's gone so far.

He's pretty. Too pretty, in your opinion. Certainly too pretty to be cuffing people, but maybe you're biased.

"C'mon," you continue, leaning in so your nose presses into his cheek. "How 'm I s'posed to kiss you right with my hands behind my back?"

Steve's skin is warm and tanned from days of chasing you through the Rockies. His starched white shirt is partially unbuttoned, and you can see dozens of freckles on his throat. You wonder if they go all the way down.

He scoffs. "I'm sure you can figure something out."

You push down on his lap and Steve grunts. The sound thrills you.

"Act tough all you want," you say. "But I know how easy you are, Harrington."

You're a hair away from his mouth. One large hand slides behind your neck, but you dodge his grip, sitting back on your haunches.

"Unlock me," you order, grinding on the front of his trousers.

"Absolutely not," he says through gritted teeth.

"Hm." You shift. Steve automatically holds onto your waist. "This what you pictured while you chased me down?"

His Adam's apple bobs in a deep swallow. You lean in and kiss the sweat on his collarbone. He tastes like salt. You let your teeth scrape against his skin. Steve's hips buck.

"Quit teasin'," he says, breaths heavy like you punched them out.

You did sock him before, weeks ago. You think he might be a glutton for punishment, your cowboy.

"Oh, you're giving orders now? Baby, you couldn't make it a day without touching me."

You travel up to his jaw, then under his ear to suck the tender skin there. Steve grunts, his hands clenching your waist.

"Look'it you," you whisper. "Gaggin' for it, ain't cha? Bet you dreamed 'bout this."

"I-I did not."

The flush spreads high on his cheeks. Steve looks up at you, eyes bleary. You feel for the small hook in your cuffs.

"Tell me how much you want me, honey pie," you coo. "Go on."

You nip at the shell of his ear. Steve shivers and whines. You grin.

"You're real sweet, huh?" you say. "Bet you'd give anything to kiss me. Big, bad desperado Harrington just needs a soft touch. Ain't that right?"

"I am—" Steve takes a deep breath. "I'm here to take you in."

The hook in your cuff releases. You pull your left hand free and lean in, lips an exhale from Steve's.

"I'd love to see you try, sweetheart."

Steve lunges, but you're too quick. He's clumsy with heat and desire. You kick his chair and dance backward, snatching your holster in the process.

"Get back here!" he grits out.

You laugh, shaking your wrist. The cuffs jingle.

"This was fun. You ask me nice and I'll cuff you next time, baby."

You close the door and jam the lock, Steve's shouts chasing you all the way down the stairs.

Yes, he's much too pretty to be cuffing people. But plenty pretty for other things.

#uh anyways.... 🫣 nobody look at me and my handcuff tendencies #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #cowboy steve harrington #western au #inbox #blurb #ivy tag ☘️

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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years

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hey its insta link anon um about that writing request,,,

i uh i .. i have an idea

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CiYDiRKNJFp/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

so the idea is uh....

stucky as friends and they got like lotsa housemate like maybe nat, clint, wanda, etc2

and they set up doorbell camera like that for fun

but one day the cam got stucky making out (just like the one you can see in the video)

they were drunk

so the stucky part itself is like friends to lovers but in my hc buckybaby is like the shy est lil thing you could ever find so the dynamic goes with shy buck and sunshine golden retriever steeb

the next morning their housemates are like winking and making obscene joke abt the kith and buckybaby goes instantly red whereas steeb just laugh

and from then on its up to u!!

thanks for listening to my rambles,,, ilyy!!💗

Hi, sweetheart! I missed you and I hope you're doing good! <3

[link] to an Instagram video of a doorbell camera catching various people, friends, fumbling around and doing everything from pretending to pull their pants down and moon the camera to making out. Lighthearted and joking.

I love this idea!

It would be such a good long, drawn out fic. And it would be exactly as you said, friends-to-lovers and probably the type of friends-to-lovers where all of Steve and Bucky's friends - all the friends and roommates that live in the house with the doorbell camera - are trying to push them together because Steve and Bucky are entire idiots that think their crushes are unrequited when the feelings are most definitely NOT unrequited.

However, neither of them listen to everyone else, they can't bare to risk their best friend over confessions of feelings...

So these idiots just pine and pine and pine for each other, filling up a whole damn forest with all the longing looks, wistful sighs, and over-thought interactions. Until-!

Yup.

The drunken make out caught on camera.

It happens like this though-

For roommate Natasha's birthday they go out drinking all together. Except... Steve has a super low alcohol tolerance (the opposite of what you'd expect for such a big, muscle-y man lol) and Bucky doesn't enjoy drinking all that much, so when he does drink, he gets drunk quicker than someone who drinks regularly. Bucky's a bit shy, a bit reserved, and has never quite looked forward to the idea of losing complete control the way his friends that enjoy drinking have described to him over the years. So he doesn't drink much. Plus, ever since Steve's been old enough to drink, Bucky doesn't really want to drink around him, seeing as Steve, already a big golden retriever of a man, gets even cuter than normal when drunk. And who doesn't want to see the big blonde have only a few drinks and get absolutely sloshed? Giggling. Swaying on his feet. Getting all huggy. Blushing at absolutely everything. Talking too loud, too eagerly, and slurring his words. All of it is adorable. How could Bucky want to get drunk at the same time as Steve and risk forgetting a second of famously light-weight Rogers' tipsy display? That's usually how it goes. Not this time though.

This time Natasha insists that everyone at least have one drink. For her. It's her birthday, c'mon, pleeeease!

Bucky has one or two drinks, he matches Steve, knowing he won't have too many that way. He gets loose and flushed, not as effected as Steve is by the alcohol, but not untouched either.

And when nearing the end of the night, it's just Steve and Bucky together and not unintenitionally so. No, Natasha has enlisted the motivation of her birthday to make out a sure-fire plan with all her friends help to get the resident love-birds to finally confess to one another and actually get together. As more than friends. Hopefully via drunk confessions since nothing else seems to work. Or... maybe a drunk hook-up (not that they don't want it when they're sober 😏).

And how does Natasha ensure that Steve and Bucky have as much time alone when tipsy as possible? Well, it's actually really easy because-

Clint is impressively social when drunk, so he won't miss being at the home with the same people for a few hours. Instead, quickly, Clint gets himself into the middle of a circle of people (mostly ladies) that're alternately aww-ing and hysterically laughing at the colorful tales of his clumsiness; explaining what this scar is from, what caused that bruise, or what exactly is under one particular band-aid. Wanda split after an hour or so - still new to drinking as the youngest of them, barely 22 - with boyfriend Vision swinging by the bar to pick her up and take her to his own apartment where she'll spend the night. So, she won't be an issue. And Sam and Natasha have been making out in the back of the bar - squished close together in a booth - or making out the bathrooms, occupying their time. But they take a break from locking lips (or looking like they're two seconds away from it as they dance dangerously close to one another on the crowded dance floor, hands sometimes literally in each other's back pockets) to push Steve and Bucky's giggly, tipsy asses into the Uber Sam ordered when they annouced they were thinking of heading home. Earlier than Sam, Natasha, and Clint are ready to head back because both of them are grandpas that need to be in bed by 9:00 pm. They stand on the sidewalk, waving the Uber goodbye before tumbling back into the bar to dance and kiss and drink more. So, Natasha and Sam are on the same page of staying out as late as possible- give the boys space and get their party on. Clint probably won't make it home tonight in favor of a one-night-stand... so, just as planned- just as hoped Steve and Bucky are home alone for a long couple of hours.

And...

Well, nothing happens, or, Natasha doesn't think anything happens because when she and Sam stumble inside, finally home, Bucky and Steve are each in their own rooms. She knows because she goes and checks on them. Returning to Sam with a pout, telling him in a much too loud whisper that it didn't work!

Sam simply pats her on the head before drags her to their bedroom, musing out loud about how maybe they should resort to house-wide spin the bottle and rig it. Somehow. Do they make trick bottles for spin the bottle? They've got to, right? So we just get one of those and...

Additionally, Natasha doesn't think anything happens because once she's bounced back from her hangover enough to observe her roommates not through squinted eyes shaded behind her darkest sunglasses as she inhales greasy hashbrowns, Steve and Bucky are acting... normal.

Disappointedly normal.

Back to their standard weird scarily-close-but-also-avoiding-each-other dance. Close, close friends that are guarding their hearts and romantic intentions from one another. So obviously, nothing happened. Otherwise tension would've broken.

Right?

Really though-

It's not that nothing happened. It's that neither of them remember. Because, well, they were drunker than they thought. And they continue to not remember, living in blissful ignorance, until the house has a viewing party for their semi-recently purchased and installed doorbell camera! It's been a month of having it up and participating in shenanigans at the front stoop. And it's at this point that......

The footage of the drunken make out is revealed to all of them at once.

Jaws on the floor.

Sides aching from laughter.

Screams of FINALLY!

They all find out at once.

It's black-and-white, night footage of Bucky and Steve stumbling up the front steps, Steve fumbling for his keys, Bucky laughing at him for failing to get his keys then offering to get his keys out of his pocket for him, Steve telling him to do it already it's cold out here and he wants inside, and... one thing leads to another and they go from standing too close, practically cuddling against the cold while finding illusive, slippery keys, to full on making out. Grainy doorbell footage showing Bucky pressing an equally grainy Steve up against the door to their house. Grainy Steve gasps and then moans.

Actual Steve, sitting on the couch too close to Bucky, is silent but BRIGHT RED.

Natasha howls with laughter, Sam screeches right along side Wanda, shouting, turn it off! turn it off! I don't need to see this!!, and Clint does an actual real-life spit-take of his coffee watching as on video Bucky starts palming Steve through his pants. Or, no, okay, okay, good, this isn't about to be an accidental sex-tape-

Because Bucky isn't giving Steve a hand job.

No.

He's actually fishing Steve's keys from his pocket and...

Holding them up in front of Steve's stupid, love-drunk (and actually drunk) face triumphantly. And giggling, "got'em, nooow open th' door, idiot."

Steve laughs too, turning around and taking way too long to open the door. Putting keys into locks are tricky when you're drunk, okay? Then, Steve opens the door a crack and claims while looking at Bucky over his shoulder, "y-gotta giv'me a' kisss bfore y-you're allowed inside, 'kay?"

Bucky makes a grumpy noise but it's all for show. He kisses Steve on the cheek easily.

Steve grins, "'nother one?" He asks, slouched so he can look up at Bucky through his lashes.

Bucky nods, easily agreeing, "a g'night kiss."

"G'night, Buck," Steve slurs, leaning into another kiss, lips to lips, before finally letting him inside and shutting the door behind them.

And from there, Natasha knows they both just went to their rooms and crashed for the night. Not particularly juicy, not the confession with a BANG (😏) that she hoped for, but... it's still pretty damn funny. Especially when you add in the fact that they don't even remember and currently sit with their heads snapping back and forth between the TV and each other. Mouths wide open in silent shock. Faces and necks turning redder and redder still. Rubernecking. Trying to verify that that was real. That this is laid out in the open. And, to add onto the fact that their deepest secrets are out in the open- they're in the open, around their roomates and friends, and not having a very private, very romantic moment.

It doesn't take a damn SECOND after the drunken make out is off the screen and onto more night footage of Natasha and Sam rolling in from the bar for Sam to break into teasing song, "Bucky and Steve, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Bucky with a baby carriage-"

Bucky is the first to break his silence. Groaning loudly and chucking a pillow at Sam's head. Then grumbling quietly about how he is not thrilled to be mocked for the rest of his days in his own damn home as Sam catches the thrown throw pillow easily and tosses it back at Bucky mercilessly. But Steve follows quickly, not breaking with another object to throw but by laughing so damn loud that he has to slap a hand over his own mouth.

Which-

Their own reactions are foreshadowing for the rest of their lives when their friends tease them always and laugh hysterically whenever offered the chance to recount how their incredible, beautiful love story began 🤣 Via drunk making out on the front porch with Bucky all but literally tripping, falling, and landing on Steve's lips.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fandomfluffandfuck #asks #fluff #getting together #insta-link!anon

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