buckys-forgotten-plum

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

🍂 a shelter in the storm 🍂

pairing: park ranger!steve rogers x female reader

summary: a handsome park ranger saved you and offered you a place to stay for the night after you got lost on your hike to look at the fall leaves, but when you're woken in the night, you find more than the fireplace is heating up his log cabin.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut with lots of fluff, voyeurism, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (f and m), mutual masturbation, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, some bdsm dynamics, consent checks, piv sex, bareback sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart), aftercare, multiple orgasms, first meetings, strangers to lovers

word count: 8.7k

a/n: ok here's the next fic for a cozy steve rogers autumn—this time with park ranger!steve rogers!! i'm posting it second but it was actually the last of the fics i wrote, so i was purposefully aiming for a premise that was especially autumnal, and i thought a park ranger au would be fun to try out! i took some inspiration for park ranger!steve from the book break the rules by roxie noir, insofar as steve built his own cabin for himself and he isn't a law enforcement ranger. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy park ranger!steve rogers!!

a cozy steve rogers autumn masterlist

You thought, at first, it was the thunderstorm beyond the walls of the cozy log cabin that had roused you from sleep, the lightning streaking across the sky through the dense foliage of the autumn forest and the rumbling thunder dragging you from your peaceful rest. You were swathed in warm flannel blankets, and a fire was crackling in the grate of the bedroom, creating a gentle ambiance amid the storm still raging in the night.

It took you a long moment to remember that you didn’t have a fireplace in your bedroom at home, nor was your bed covered in flannel blankets. Your eyes fluttered open with confusion as you looked around the vaguely familiar room, taking in the log cabin walls, wooden furnishings and masculine decor. The flannel blankets under which you were buried were a burnt orange and forest green plaid that matched the warm tones of the room, making it feel extra cozy with the fire and the storm outside.

The events that led to you sleeping in a strange cabin came back to you slowly—the park ranger named Steve Rogers who’d found you in the forest after you’d gotten yourself lost, the offer he’d made to let you stay the night in his cabin because the oncoming thunderstorm was likely to wash out the roads down the mountain and the way he’d insisted you take the bedroom while he’d sleep on the couch. With a wince at your own overconfidence, you also remembered the ill-advised decision you’d made to take a day trip out of the city to go hiking by yourself so you could take in the fall foliage along the trails of the national park.

Sympathetic embarrassment flooded through you as you remembered the way you’d stumbled over your words as you’d explained to the unbelievably handsome park ranger that you’d gotten lost coming down the mountain, and didn’t have any service on your phone to pull up a map or call for help. You pulled the flannel blankets up over your face as if you could hide from the memory of Steve calmly, and more kindly than you probably deserved as someone who’d gone hiking without a physical map, told you that you were on the other side of the mountain than where you’d started.

At that exact, unfortunate moment, you’d both heard the distant rumble of thunder, and Steve had led you quickly to his truck. There, he’d grimly explained the trouble of the storm washing out the roads and making them unsafe to drive on. He’d offered to let you stay with him at his home, just outside the boundaries of the national park forest, and given you his satellite phone to call someone to tell them where you were and that you were safe. When you’d gotten your best friend on the line, Steve insisted you give them his badge number and address to make you and your friend feel more at ease with you staying with a stranger. Once you’d ended the call, Steve had driven you to his home, a cozy little log cabin he’d built for himself.

Which was how you’d ended up buried under the blankets in the only bed Steve had, the fire he’d built to keep you warm burning low in the grate and the thunderstorm continuing into the early hours of the morning. Despite only knowing Steve a short time, there was something about the park ranger that made you feel safe and at ease in his presence. It certainly helped that he took great care to make you feel comfortable, from building the fire in your bedroom, to giving you clean clothes and letting you use his shower. He’d even cooked you dinner, before bidding you goodnight while you retired to the bedroom with its lock on the door. 

His kindness and respectfulness only made you feel worse for the inappropriate thoughts and feelings you’d begun to have toward your host. Steve was most likely acting out of a sense of chivalry by opening his home to you and giving you a safe, warm place to stay. But that didn’t stop your mind from running wild with fantasies about the handsome park ranger. 

Steve had looked capable and authoritative in his park ranger uniform, but when you’d gotten to his cabin, he’d stripped out of the shirt as he’d prepared to make a fire in the living room. The move had left him clad in only a white t-shirt tucked into his uniform pants, the soft-looking cotton pulled tight across his pecs and the bulges of his biceps. While you’d watched him crouch in front of the fireplace, admiring his ass while he wasn’t paying attention to you, you’d imagined him stripping out of the rest of his clothes, baring his broad, golden chest, his thick thighs, and whatever he was hiding in those tight pants of his.

Throughout Steve working on the fire, giving you a tour of the cabin and cooking dinner, all you could do was try not to stare at him and hold up your end of the conversation. He’d kept you talking for most of the evening, asking you about your job, your friends and family and your favorite books and movies. It had helped to distract you and make you comfortable, but whenever there was a lull in the conversation, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would feel like to have the park ranger with the broad shoulders toss you around in his flannel-covered bed. 

As you lay in that exact bed in the middle of the night, breathing in the faint smell of him—like evergreen trees and fresh air—your straying thoughts only got worse. All you could think about was what may have happened if Steve hadn’t been such a gentleman and had insisted on sharing his bed together. Maybe you would’ve woken up with the park ranger curled around your back, the bulge in his gray sweatpants wedged against your ass. Or maybe you would’ve draped yourself over him in your sleep and woken to his rumbling voice murmuring encouragement while you humped against his tree trunk thigh.

In the quiet between crashes of thunder, you heard a distant sound in the cabin that had you immediately growing more aware of your surroundings as your body heated beneath the flannel blankets. The sound wasn’t like a crackling fire or the settling of the wood. If you weren’t mistaken, it had sounded like a moan, and the distance it had come from made you think its source was the living room where Steve was sleeping on the couch.

Distantly, you realized it was the sound that had initially woken you, and you wondered why Steve would be making such a sound in the middle of the night. Your thoughts wanted to stray to the filthiest explanation your mind could come up with, but you firmly stopped that train of thought in its tracks. Instead, you clung to the edges of the blankets with desperate fingers and strained your ears to hear the sound again while your core throbbed between your thighs.

After long moments of hearing nothing, you swallowed and realized your throat was dry. Suddenly, you felt parched and in desperate need of a glass of water. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you slipped from beneath the blankets on Steve’s bed and tiptoed to the door of his room. It certainly wasn’t that you wanted to investigate the debauched sound that had woken you.

Easing the door open, you were so focused on staying quiet that you didn’t even consider putting more clothes on. Instead, you crept down the hallway towards the living room in nothing more than one of Steve’s flannel shirts and some panties. The shirt was long enough that it mostly covered your ass anyway, so if he happened to be up and you happened to run into him while you were getting water, you were mostly decent. Mostly. 

Another groan came from the living room, sounding much less muffled than when you were in the bedroom, and you froze in the shadowed hallway. Heat bloomed through your body, settling heavily in your core and your breasts, making your nipples pucker with arousal. Your reaction to the sound even curled your toes against the cold wooden floor while you bit your lip against a soft whimper of your own. Before you could second-guess your instincts, you were creeping closer to where the hallway fed into the open space of the living room, kitchen and dining area at the front of the cabin.

As you moved closer, you saw Steve lounging in the center of the couch, facing the fireplace in front of him. His head was tossed back, his eyes closed and his face twisted with pleasure. You leaned against the wall for balance and pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to see over the back of the couch and followed the line of his body down to his lap, where you discovered the source of his groans. 

One of Steve’s big hands was fisted around his thick cock, his sweatpants shoved down to his thighs and his shirt pushed up over his abs, his disheveled clothes framing his hard length perfectly. The firelight licked over the shaft of Steve’s cock, making the ridges of his veins stand out in sharp contrast. He was so hard that even from the hallway, you could see the way he twitched, precum beading from the tip of his length. 

Desire, hot and merciless, rolled through your body, making your nipples tighten into stiff peaks beneath the soft flannel of Steve’s shirt. You felt yourself getting wet and clenched your thighs together against the insistent ache building in your core to have something buried in your empty hole. You knew you should turn away, give Steve his privacy. After all, you’d discovered the source of the mysterious sound. But instead, you held your breath and inched further toward the end of the hall, determined to get a better look at Steve pleasuring himself.

Steve’s eyes were still screwed shut as he stroked his cock slowly, almost torturously like he was trying to draw out his pleasure as long as possible. The sight was so deliriously hot, you half believed you were dreaming somehow. But then he groaned again and the filthy sound filling the room made your body zing in response, wetness pooling in your panties and your tits aching with the need for attention. 

Every time Steve’s cock twitched while you watched him, you felt an answering clench in your pussy, your cunt throbbing with the desire to have him inside you. He had such a perfect cock, you almost wanted to sigh dreamily looking at it. It was thick and veiny, and long enough that it’d be a struggle to take him all the way inside you, but you were more than willing to take on that particular challenge. 

No matter that you knew you were treading upon Steve’s private moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the picture he painted—his large body draped over the couch cushions, the warm glow of the fire casting him in golden light and dark shadows. He was beautiful, desire incarnate, and you couldn’t stop looking at him, your gaze hungrily taking in the way the muscles in his arms flexed with every stroke, his abs contracting when his hips bucked lightly into his fist. As you watched, Steve’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, the park ranger biting off a groan that rumbled in his chest. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision—your mind was too fogged with sleep and arousal to think very hard anyway—but one minute your fingers were twisted in the hem of Steve’s shirt you’d worn to bed, and the next they were slipping inside your panties. You found yourself dripping wet and had to suck in a silent breath to keep your own sounds of pleasure to yourself. You rubbed your clit slowly, matching the speed of Steve’s hand stroking his cock, trying to draw out the moment just as he seemed to be doing. 

For long minutes, you stayed like that, standing on tiptoes and pressed against the wall of the hallway to watch Steve pleasure himself while you rubbed your clit to the sight. Then, you were shocked when a single word tumbled from Steve’s lips on a rumbling groan—that word being your name. 

You tried to press a hand over you mouth in time to muffle your gasp so you wouldn’t be caught, but you didn’t know if you were successful. Even if you weren’t, it didn’t seem like Steve noticed because he never faltered in his slow, steady rhythm as he continued jerking himself off. Meanwhile, your body felt like it was going haywire with the knowledge that the handsome park ranger was stroking his cock to the thought of you. Your pussy throbbed desperately, your tits ached and your entire body wanted to be pressed against Steve, his big cock pushing deep into your cunt while he moaned your name again.

The energy in the room shifted slightly, but you were concentrating too hard on Steve’s fist and cock and your fingers on your clit to notice that the park ranger’s eyes had flickered open. Without realizing it, you’d edged too far out of the shadows of the hallway and into the light cast by the fire. It was an even bigger shock than hearing your name from Steve’s lips when he addressed you directly.

“You can keep watching from there if you want, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice low and rough with arousal. His hand slowed a little, gliding up and down his hard, thick length as he went on. “But you’re welcome to come closer if you want a better look.”  

Your gasp of surprise was loud in the quiet room, overtaking the soft crackling of the fire and the distant booms of thunder. Flicking your gaze up to Steve’s face, you found he’d turned his head toward the hallway, so he was looking at you with heated blue eyes over the back of the couch. As you stared dumbly at his amused expression, his eyes dropped and you watched as they darkened even further when he discovered your hand was shoved in your panties.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Steve rasped, his gaze meeting yours again, a new urgency in his voice. “Let me see what your fingers are doing in those cute panties.”

You pulled your hand guiltily out of your panties and hid your glistening fingers behind you even as your feet carried you into the living room, walking around the couch to stand near Steve. For a moment, you stood there uncertainly, your eyes flicking from Steve’s cock to his face to the fire glowing in the grate, unsure where to look. The park ranger watched you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your bare legs and up to the hem of his shirt, a gentle, pleased smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“You look pretty in my shirt, sweetheart,” Steve said in a low, gravelly voice. His praise helped to settle your nerves a little and you met his gaze for a moment, smiling shyly while your fingers toyed with the edge of the flannel where it fluttered around your upper thighs. An answering smile spread slowly across Steve’s face. “Will ya take your panties off and sit down for me?” he asked, softly patting the couch cushion beside him. 

The couch was a massive piece of furniture, taking up most of the space in front of the fireplace. But with its overstuffed brown leather cushions, it looked warm and inviting. Steve had made it look even cozier with blankets thrown over the back and three or four throw pillows positioned to each side. The park ranger himself was the most alluring part, though, his blue eyes fixed on you and a hopeful smile on his face.

Eager to join Steve on the couch, you hooked your fingers in your panties and pushed them down your legs quickly, letting them pool at your feet. You stepped out of them and slid onto the couch beside Steve, facing him. You lay back into the pillows leaning against the arm of the couch before swinging your legs up and, after a brief moment of hesitation, parted your thighs to give Steve a look at your pussy. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hand squeezing the base of his cock hard enough that it twitched and more precum pearled at the tip. It began to roll down his thick length, and Steve’s fist gathered his arousal and spread it around the head of his cock, making him glisten enticingly in the firelight. You watched in rapture, before glancing up at Steve’s face and then you couldn’t decide where you wanted to look more—at his perfect cock or at the hungry desire etched into his expression.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” Steve rumbled, so low you could barely hear him over the crackling of the fire and the thunderstorm beyond the cabin. “And so wet—is your pretty pussy wet for me, sweetheart?” 

Biting your lip against a naughty smile, you nodded, spreading your thighs a little wider. “I heard you,” you whispered, glancing down at Steve’s cock that he was still stroking in his fist. Your fingers teased down your thighs, trailing closer to the place where you were aching to be touched. 

“And it turned you on, baby?” Steve asked when you didn’t go on, a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Your pussy got all wet from the sound of me jerking off?” When you nodded again, he groaned, his head falling back against the couch while his eyes fluttered closed. When you sucked in a sharp little breath, it caught Steve’s attention and he looked back at you. “Show me, sweetheart—let me see just how wet you got for me.”

Steve’s warm, rumbling voice and the desire in his tone made you feel more confident, almost bold. You slid one of your hands between your thighs and used your fingers to spread your pussy lips, giving Steve a good look at your drenched folds, throbbing clit and clenching hole. Steve groaned again at the sight, a sound almost like he was being tortured. His eyes nearly closed with pleasure, but he kept them cracked open so he could stare hungrily at your most intimate place.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” he praised in a low, growly voice, his eyes intent on your pussy. “Show daddy your pretty hole and sweet button.” You gasped at what he called himself, your hips squirming as you felt your heartbeat pulsing in your core, more arousal leaking from your pussy. Steve grinned, his gaze shimmering in the firelight as he caught your eye. “Mm you like that, don’t you, baby? Like the idea of calling me daddy—I can see your hole clench for me when I say it.”

He was right, and you’d felt it, too, the way your inner walls had clamped down around nothing when he’d called himself ‘daddy’. Your breathing was already heavier, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Steve’s flannel shirt as desire burned through your body. Steve kept staring at you, his blue eyes molten with hunger, and you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle on the couch. He seemed to know the effect he was having on you, because Steve’s mouth quirked in a small smirk.

“Say it, baby—let me hear you say it.” His order was gentled by the warmth in his tone, the sound of his rumbling voice sending more heat spiralling through your body. Steve’s voice went even deeper with his next words. “Call me daddy.” 

You were helpless to the park ranger’s sweet command and you parted your lips to obey. “D-daddy,” you whispered, your tongue tripping over the word you’d never said in such a context before. But you instantly liked the way it felt, the dirtiness of it. You smiled, saying it again, “Daddy.” Your eyes went heavy-lidded with arousal, but your pleased expression was nothing compared to the look of pure, ravenous desire on Steve’s face.

“Play with your pussy, baby,” Steve said in a lust-soaked voice, his hand still stroking his cock slowly while he watched the juncture between your thighs. “Show daddy how you made yourself feel good while you were spying on him.” 

The slight recrimination in his tone made you hotter and you eagerly did as he said, using the fingers of your hand not holding yourself spread open to tease circles around your clit. The pleasure and desire pounding through your body loosened your lips and you whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy,” as you pouted up at Steve. “I didn’t mean to spy on you, I was just getting some water and I—” You dipped a finger into your dripping hole, making your breath catch and halting your words. You gathered your wetness from the source and rubbed it around your clit, making yourself nice and slick.

“You what, baby?” Steve asked in a low, urgent voice. When you opened your eyes and took in the eagerness on his face, you smiled, your eyes trailing down to where his fist was sliding a little faster up and down his length. You matched his speed as you circled your clit and went on.

“I couldn’t help myself, daddy, you’re just so big and hard,” you confessed breathlessly, a hiccuping whimper falling from your lips. “I don’t know what happened, I just got so wet and achy and my button was throbbing.” You flicked your thumb over your clit, dragging a gasp from yourself as pleasure spiked through your body, your hips writhing on the couch. “I just needed to rub my button, daddy, I needed it so bad,” you whined, arching your back up off the pillows and pushing your tits against the soft flannel, the stimulation against your stiff peaks shooting straight to your core.

You didn’t know where your innocent act was coming from—you’d known exactly what you were doing when you’d crept down the hallway of Steve’s cabin to investigate the moaning sound he’d made, and you knew why you’d gotten so aroused. Though you couldn’t necessarily say why you’d thought it was ok to touch yourself while you watched him, you chalked it up to being woken up in the middle of the night and being too turned on to think straight. But it made you hotter to play innocent, and Steve seemed all too happy to indulge you. 

“Good girl, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for daddy,” Steve rasped, his eyes intent on the way your finger was playing with your clit, teasing and then flicking the bundle of nerves to drive your pleasure steadily higher. “You look so sweet rubbing your button, baby.” Steve groaned and he leaned closer to you. He didn’t touch you, though, which only made his closeness all the more frustrating as you pushed yourself toward your peak. “Such a pretty little filthy thing,” Steve rumbled distractedly, his dirty words pouring over you and turning you on more. “With your thighs spread for the nice park ranger who saved you, your greedy fingers playing with your pussy for him.” 

The way Steve was talking, the way he spoke about himself and what you were doing, it was almost too much, adding to the heat building in your core. You gave up trying to match Steve’s slow, torturous pace on his cock and rubbed your needy clit in tight circles, your release approaching fast. “Daddy, daddy,” you whined, your voice rising to the rafters of the cabin in a helpless plea. “I need to come, daddy—can I come, please?” you asked, opening your eyes, not knowing when you’d shut them tight, and looking to Steve. You’d never asked for permission to come before, but you liked giving that control to Steve. 

Steve’s grin was wolfish as he leaned even closer to you, until he was hovering above your lower body, still managing not to touch you. “Come,” he commanded in a raspy voice. He had to stop and clear his throat before he continued on in a deep rumble. “Come for daddy, sweetheart, rub your sweet little button and come while daddy watches your pussy clench around nothing.”

A whine unleashed from your throat when his teasing words reminded you how empty you felt, so you shoved two fingers into your hole, your thumb rubbing furiously at your clit. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered, your body writhing on the couch, your hips squirming as you chased your release. You were so lost in the headiness of the moment, by the feeling of Steve’s eyes on your body, that it didn’t take long until the tension coiling in your belly snapped. You came apart on your fingers, your body trembling hard and a whining cry of “Daddy!” escaping your lips.

You fucked yourself through your orgasm, your hips rolling up to meet the thrusts of your fingers, until the aftershocks lessened and you collapsed into the pillows at your back. For a long moment, you simply lay there, your eyes closed as you basked in the feeling of your inner walls still fluttering around your fingers. 

But then Steve’s pleasured grunt brought you back to the present. When you opened your eyes, you found the park ranger stroking his cock furiously, his fist spreading his precum all over his length while he watched you. Steve’s face was contorted with a feral kind of lust as he stared down at your cunt, your pussy sucking on your fingers like it wanted to drag them deeper inside you.

Although you’d felt sated enough a moment before, the sight of Steve’s thick, twitching cock leaking precum over his fist had the fire of your arousal roaring back to life. Before you could think better of it, words were tumbling from your mouth. “Fuck me, daddy,” you said eagerly, excitedly. You opened your thighs wider, pulling your knees up to your chest as you spread your pussy lips open for him. Unable to stop yourself, you rubbed your clit, working yourself up again. “Please, daddy, fuck me!”

Instead of pouncing on you the way you’d wanted, Steve froze at your words. His gaze met yours as his eyes raked over your face, like he was looking for some indication that your plea wasn’t genuine. “Sweetheart,” he grumbled, caution in his tone, but you shook your head frustratedly.

“Want you inside me, daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips and offering your body to the handsome park ranger. It didn’t matter that he was little more than a stranger, you needed him more than you’d ever needed any man before. Steve made you feel safe and desirous at the same time, but he was still staring at you, indecision written all over his face. “I’m so empty, daddy, I need you—I need you, please!” you begged him desperately, your mind scrabbling for what to say to entice him. “I want this, I want you.” You opened your eyes wide, imploring him and trying to show him that you were serious.

“Fucking hell,” Steve bit out, closing his eyes for a moment like he couldn’t bear to look at the image you presented to him. You held your breath as he stayed quiet, the muscle in his jaw popping as he seemed to try to rein himself in. When his eyes finally opened again, his dark blue gaze was glittering with feral desire. “Are you sure, baby?” he asked in a raspy voice, his tone edged with desperation. “Because I’ll fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked,” he said, his soft lips spilling the dirtiest filth you’d ever heard. “I’ll pound that sweet cunt of yours until you’re screaming and creaming all over my cock—I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

You moaned, low and lustfully, at Steve’s words, your hole clenching around nothing as your body begged for him to make his promises a reality. “Please, daddy,” you whispered, hips squirming on the leather couch, your pebbled nipples straining against the flannel shirt you still wore.

“You like that idea, huh?” he asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Like the idea of getting fucked so good by the park ranger who found you in the forest?” He shifted closer to you, his hand not wrapped around his cock settling heavily on your knee, his thumb stroking your skin teasingly. “Is this how you’re gonna repay my kindness, sweetheart—gonna let me fuck you so good you’ll be ruined for any other man and you’ll have to beg me to keep you?”

“Jesus, Steve,” you gasped, your body burning up with desire. Your hand began sliding up your thigh, intent on grabbing his wrist and pulling the park ranger down on top of you, but your use of his real name seemed to snap Steve out of the lust haze he’d been in long enough to process what he’d just said.

“Fuck, sorry, sweetheart, was that too far?” he asked, an adorable pink tint rising in his cheeks. You thought he’d been hot before, when he’d been capable and sure of himself. But seeing Steve blush and stop to make sure you were comfortable was something else entirely—and it only made you want him more.

You shook your head dazedly, sitting up enough to grab his shirt in your fist and pull him closer. At the same time, you used his broad body to lift yourself up until you were almost sitting, your arms going around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself anchored as you looked deep into the blushing park ranger’s eyes.

“That was so fucking hot,” you murmured breathlessly, a little awe in your tone. Your eyes darted back and forth across his face, watching as his concerned expression morphed into a self-satisfied smirk. The moment of pause gave you time to remember something you should let him know before you went further. “But you might want to know that I’m on birth control,” you said, smiling as Steve’s face went serious and he nodded. “Also, I’ve been tested since my last partner, and it was clear.”

Steve’s chuckle was a little self-deprecating, the sound so warm, it made you want to laugh lightly along with him. Instead, you waited with bated breath to see what he’d say. “Good to know.” Steve responded, brushing a kiss to your cheek, the stubble on his jaw rasping delicately against your skin. “I’ve been tested, too, I’m good.”

You sighed happily. “Good,” you said, before shooting him a mischievous smile. “So you can fuck me without a condom.” Before you could stop yourself, you bounced excitedly on the couch, eager to feel Steve’s thick cock inside you without anything in the way.

A sound partway between a laugh and a groan escaped Steve as he dropped his head to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking cute, sweetheart,” he rumbled against your skin. His hands dug under your ass, squeezing you hard as he climbed up onto the couch, pushing you down into the pillows as his hips settled between your thighs, his cock resting on your belly. “It’s making me so fucking hard for you.” His cock twitched between your bodies and you giggled.

“Mm if you’re so hard, then maybe you should fuck me, daddy,” you teased sweetly. You raked your nails through Steve’s hair and down the back of his neck, making his dick bounce again while he let out a deep groan. You couldn’t have stopped yourself from smiling smugly even if you’d wanted to. 

Lifting his head, Steve gave you a stern look, though it softened quickly into an expression filled with affection when he saw how proud of yourself you were. “You’re still ok calling me daddy?” he asked, taking a moment to check in with you. “And with me fucking you raw?”

Just to torture him a little, you made a show of thinking for a long minute, tilting your head to the side and tapping a finger against your chin. In reality, it didn’t take you that much time to consider his questions since you were absolutely sure you wanted to call Steve ‘daddy’ and feel his bare cock inside you. When you’d decided he’d waited long enough, you looked back into his eyes and grinned. “Oh, definitely—I’m very ok with all of that.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head a little as he ducked down to nudge his nose against yours. “You keep being so adorable and sexy, and I’m gonna be begging you to let me keep you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone filled with genuine tenderness that had your heart thumping unexpectedly hard in your chest. Before you could think of a response, or analyze why your heart had responded like that, Steve closed the distance between your mouths and captured your lips in a kiss.

Your mind went blank but for the fireworks lit by the feel of Steve’s soft mouth on yours. He groaned as he tasted your lips, the sound shooting straight to your dripping core and making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, exploring you and taking possession of you at the same time. You clung to Steve’s shoulders, kissing him back eagerly, stroking your tongue against his until you were both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Steve—daddy, please,” you whined when he broke away to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. Your first release was a distant memory and your need to be filled pulsed in your core, but Steve seemed content to take his time. He sucked on the skin of your neck, working it between his teeth in a way that dragged a broken moan from your mouth. You knew he was going to leave a mark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. In fact, you liked the idea of being marked as his.

Steve licked at the little hickey he’d left and then kissed down your neck until he reached the top button of the flannel shirt you’d worn to bed. “You look good in daddy’s clothes, baby,” he rumbled, lifting himself up enough to catch your eye, a crooked grin on his face. “But I wanna see all of you.” His hands trailed up your sides until his fingers were teasing the bare skin at the edges of the shirt. 

Once you nodded, Steve made quick work of the buttons on your flannel, parting the shirt and watching inch after inch of your bare skin be revealed to him. “So fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he said in a low, choked voice as he stared reverently down at your body. After he’d looked his fill, his hands pressed to your skin, the callouses on his palms rough against your soft curves while he groped at you like he wanted to learn the landscape of your body.

A whine slipped passed your lips when Steve’s thumbs teased your hardened nipples, your back arching up off the couch. “Daddyyy!” you whined, enjoying his touch but needing so much more to be satisfied. 

“Be patient, baby,” Steve rumbled in response, his hands kneading your tits, his fingers plucking at your nipples. “Daddy’s busy playing with your body.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers and pulled on them until you gasped loudly, the sound devolving into a moan. “Mm, ya like that, sweetheart? Like it when daddy plays with your tits?”

You moaned and nodded, your hands clinging to his shoulders. “Yes, daddy,” you said in a whimpering voice, your hips squirming beneath his heavy cock. You could feel his precum leaking from his tip and sliding down to your belly, which only made you want him inside you more. Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped a hand around his thick girth, delighting in the way he twitched in your fingers when you stroked his cock.

Steve groaned, ducking down and sucking hard on one of your nipples before he glanced up and caught your eye. “That’s it, baby, play with daddy’s cock,” he urged, sucking on your other nipple before letting it fall from his mouth. “You feel how hard I am for you?” You bit your lip and nodded, pumping your fist up and down his hot, hard cock while he kept talking. “It’s ‘cause I was thinking about you—couldn’t stop thinking about burying my fat cock in your tight little cunt. Fuck, baby, I felt like such a filthy perv jerking off to you while you were sleeping in my bed.”

“Daddy,” you whined, using your grip on Steve’s cock to slap his hard length against your clit, sending pleasure shooting through your body. “I was thinking about you, too,” you confessed, pressing his cock between your dripping folds and humping against his hard length, feeling his veins bump against your clit. “Wanted you to fuck me and claim me in your bed, wanted to wake up with your cock still buried in my cunt just to feel you fuck me all over again.” 

“Oh fuck,” Steve cursed, leaning up and reaching behind his head to pull off his shirt. “I gotta fuck you, baby, gotta feel your tight cunt on my cock—jesus fuck.” 

For a moment, you stared at the sight of his broad, muscled chest displayed in front of you, your mouth watering at the need to kiss every inch of his golden skin. Steve looked like a golden god bathed in the glow of the firelight, and you could scarcely bring yourself to touch him, he looked so perfect. But then he was moving and touching you as desperately as you felt. 

Steve’s greedy, grasping fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs and he spread you open even further for his hips to settle between. His big hand wrapped around your smaller one on his cock and he lined up the leaking tip with your dripping hole. There, he paused and caught your eye. His body was tensed as he held himself back, checking in with you one more time before he sank inside you.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, rubbing his cock head through your soaked folds and teasing you further. He held your fingers captive, and your other hand slid up his muscular bicep before clinging to his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Ready, daddy,” you said in your sweetest tone, your voice breathless as you panted with desire. 

Steve grinned and ducked down for a quick kiss, murmuring, “So sweet,” against your lips before pulling away. Then he started pushing his cock into your aching pussy. He was so big, that even the head of him stretched your tight cunt, and you whined loudly at the slight sting. When he paused, his eyes raking over your face, you gasped, “Don’t stop!”

“Greedy girl,” Steve rumbled, but didn’t stop, sinking deeper and deeper in your tight pussy, filling you up to the point that it felt like he was rearranging your body to make room for himself. 

When Steve freed your hand so he could bury himself further inside you, you wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him down on top of you, your fingers digging into his soft hair and clinging to him. Your mouth was open against the stubble on his jaw, the scrape of it feeling delicious against your kiss-swollen lips while you moaned mindlessly. It took your breath away, the exquisite way Steve stretched your pussy on his cock, and you soon grew lightheaded. 

“So good, baby,” Steve murmured against your cheek as he pushed deeper inside you. “Feel so tight and warm and good on my cock—christ.” He bit off his curse as he finally bottomed out inside you, his balls resting heavily against your ass. “Fuck, I could live in your cunt, sweetheart, that’s how good you feel.”

A dazed smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and you hummed happily in acknowledgement. “Mm, feels s’good, daddy,” you whispered, nuzzling his stubbled jaw and pressing a kiss against the roughness.

“Baby,” he cooed in your ear, his hips starting to work in slow, grinding thrusts that set your body on fire with pleasure. “Ya like daddy’s big cock buried in your little pussy, sweetheart?” Your faces were pressed so close together, you could feel him grin against your cheek, which only made your heart thump with something much deeper than lust and affection, but you ignored it for the moment.

“Yes, daddy, I like it so much,” you answered honestly, unable to tell Steve anything but the truth in that moment. Your tongue was loosened by the pleasure you felt and that, paired with your honesty, meant you spilled all your deepest thoughts to the park ranger. “Never wanna leave—want your cock inside me always, Steve, feels s’perfect,” you purred in his ear.

A sound rumbled in Steve’s chest, something like a growl, and he kissed your jaw then leaned up to kiss your mouth softly. “I might hold you to that, sweetheart,” he said softly, his hips moving so his cock pulled out further, both of you reveling in the way your inner walls fluttered around him, trying to draw him back in. “I’ll keep you here in my cabin so I can fill you with my cock all the time—I’ll keep you cock drunk and fucked out.” Steve hips snapped forward, shoving his cock deep enough that you felt him slam against the end of you, wrenching a sharp cry from your lips. “My perfect little fuck toy.” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, loving the idea of being the park ranger’s fuck toy, something for him to use and play with when he came home from work. You inhaled his evergreen and fresh air scent, the smell of Steve’s sex mixed in making you feel dizzy with arousal. “Keep me, daddy, make me yours.”

Steve shuddered in your arms and then he was pounding into you, fucking you hard and fast as he pinned you to the couch with his heavy body. All you could do was lay there and take his cock, feeling every inch of him slide against your sensitive inner walls. Your moans turned to cries as you shouted your pleasure for all the forest to hear, even as the thunderstorm still rumbled in the distance.

“Fuck, ‘m close, baby,” Steve muttered, reaching between your bodies until his thumb found your clit. “Need you to come with me, sweetheart, wanna feel your cunt milking my cock.” He rubbed your sensitive bud in harsh little circles as he fucked you, the skin of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. 

“Daddy, daddy,” you cried on a gasp, your hips bucking up to meet his forceful thrusts. “Don’t stop, daddy, make me come, please!” A keening sound fell from your lips as you writhed beneath Steve’s big body, pleasure coiling tight in every muscle of your body.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna stop,” Steve huffed, his ruthless pace never flagging as he slammed his cock into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna rub your pretty little button until you’re coming on daddy’s fat cock,” he mumbled, fucking you so hard that your body jolted with every thrust, your tits bouncing for him.

You grabbed your tits in your hands and pinched both your nipples, squeezing your eyes shut as the sharp sting of pain sent you tumbling over the edge. You came with a wailing cry, the tension in your body snapping and leaving you helpless under a deluge of pleasure. Wave after wave of bliss overwhelmed you, your arms and legs clinging to Steve while he kept fucking you.

“Good girl, baby, so good, feels s’fucking good,” Steve mumbled, his hips rutting into you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased his own. “I can’t—‘m gonna come, sweetheart, ya ready for daddy’s come?”

“Give it to me, daddy,” you whimpered. Acting on instinct, you pulled Steve close and locked your ankles behind his back so he couldn’t even think about pulling out. 

Steve’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but then the blue of his gaze darkened and he gave you a filthy grin. “That’s my girl,” he growled, pounding into you harder, grinding his cock deep in your hole. “Oh fuck, fuck, baby—I’m coming,” he bit out, his thrusts turning wild until he shoved his cock deep inside you. Steve let out a guttural groan as he came inside you, his cock throbbing as he spilled his seed and coated your insides with his come. “Take it, baby, take it,” he grunted as he pumped you full.

You moaned softly, your still fluttering pussy greedily grasping at Steve’s cock while he unloaded inside you. “Feels so good, daddy, s’good,” you whispered, raking your nails down the back of his head and between his shoulder blades, reveling in the feeling of Steve filling you up. 

When Steve was finally spent, he collapsed to the side, rolling both of you over and wedging you between between his big body and the back of the couch. He hooked your leg over his hip so he could stay buried in your warm cunt while you cupped his face and dragged him in for a kiss. You made out for a while as you both recovered, your kisses turning lazy as you both settled. 

Eventually, you pulled away to take a deep breath, and let it out in a soft, contented sigh, snuggling into Steve’s chest and the pillows of the couch. His fingers idly stroked up and down your spine, and he made a gentle rumbling sound of satisfaction. You nuzzled into his neck, pressing a smile into his skin.

“So I was thinking,” Steve started, pausing to make sure you were still awake and listening. You hummed in encouragement for him to go on, so he did. “I’d like to take you out sometime,” he said, before quickly adding. “On a date. Maybe dinner—if you’d like that.” 

You snorted softly. “Aren’t we a little past the first date stage?” you asked. When Steve didn’t say anything, you pulled back far enough to glance up into his handsome face. It was difficult to read his expression since his back was to the dying fire, but you thought his cheeks were pinked again. “I mean, you did just come inside me, Steve,” you said a little bluntly.

Steve’s mouth flickered, but his face was so in shadow you couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning. “Well, I figured it might be a little too soon to ask you to move in,” he said, his tone so even you didn’t know if he was joking or not. “But if you want, I can…”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you decided he was joking, so you smacked him lightly on the chest. “Don’t even start, Steve,” you grumbled.

A grin broke across Steve’s face and he laughed. “Ok so we’re definitely not there yet, huh?” he asked, his voice tight with barely leashed laughter. “Good to know.” His hand came to rest on your hip and squeezed you reassuringly. “So, dinner then?”

Shaking your head a little, you laughed, which caused Steve to let loose and soon you were laughing together, bodies quaking beside each other on the couch. When you finally quieted, you placed a hand on the center of Steve’s chest, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath your fingertips. The fire in the grate had died down to embers and the thunderstorm had moved on, so you couldn’t even hear the distant rumbling booms anymore, only the rain pitter-pattering against the windows of the cabin.

Taking a deep breath, you smiled up at the handsome park ranger. “I’d love to go out with you, Steve,” you said, letting your genuine happiness shine through. “For dinner or any other date you wanna take me on.”

Steve smiled back at you, ducking his head to give you a long, drugging kiss. When he pulled away, his mouth kicked up in a mischievous grin before saying, “Glad to hear it, sweetheart.” His hand squeezed your hip before moving down to knead your ass. “But if I take you for a hike, promise me you’ll let me lead the way.” 

“Sure thing, daddy,” you murmured, getting distracted by the feel of Steve’s hand on your ass. He was groping you roughly enough that you could feel him spreading your pussy open slightly. You moaned softly when you felt his cock twitch and begin to harden inside you. “I’ll let the park ranger take the lead if we go hiking,” you said, trying to sound teasing, but ending up sounding like you were genuinely happy to put your trust in Steve. 

“Mm, good girl, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, a pleased smile on his lips. He pressed a kiss to your mouth, whispering words against lips that sounded just as genuine as yours had been. “If you let me, I’ll take good care of you.” 

“Steve,” you said on a gasp, too many emotions flooding through you for you to name any of them. Instead of trying to put them into words, you pushed on the park ranger’s shoulder and rolled on top of him. You sank down fully on Steve’s cock, both of you groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his hardness.

“That’s it, baby, ride daddy’s cock,” Steve urged, his voice a deep rumble that made you shiver. His thick cock rubbed against your sensitive inner walls, dragging a moan from you lips. Steve grabbed big handfuls of your ass, guiding you to hump against his dick while you clung to him, your hands twisted in his soft hair. Your hips began moving of your own volition, rocking harder and faster on top of him, making Steve let out one of his pleasured grunts. “Fuck, yes, that’s my girl,” he rasped, his praise filling your ears. “Show daddy how much you wanna belong to him.” 

“I wanna be yours, daddy,” you sobbed, already overwhelmed by the feeling of Steve’s big cock buried in your pussy and his pelvic bone grinding against your clit. The emotions swirling in your chest were too much to parse, but you felt the truth of your words as they tumbled past your lips. “I wanna be yours.” 

“You are, baby,” Steve murmured, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “You are—you’re mine.” His hips bucked up from beneath you, bouncing you on his cock while you kept writhing on top of him, both of you chasing your releases together in each other. “Mine.” 

“Yours,” you answered in a breathless, desperate echo of his possessive declaration. Then your mouths sealed together, and there was no more talking as you gave yourself over to his dominance and the pleasure he offered. Steve claimed your lips just as surely as he claimed your body, and it wasn’t long before you were unraveling for him again, shattering apart on his stiff length while he came inside you with a choked shout.

After you’d recovered a little, Steve hauled you down the hallway to the bathroom. He cleaned you both up before tucking you into his bed, curling his big body around yours beneath his flannel blankets. Settling into Steve’s arms, you were lulled by the occasional snap and crackle of the dying fire in the grate, the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows and the steady breathing of your park ranger. 

Before you could fall asleep, though, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have found Steve—not just because he’s saved you from being lost in a thunderstorm and given you a place to stay, but because you’d finally found a man who felt like home. Your park ranger and his cozy cabin were a shelter in the storm of life, and you knew deep in your heart that both were a safe place for you to land. Not only on that particular night, but for the rest of your life.

With a smile on your face, you fell asleep and had the best, most peaceful night’s rest you could ever remember. And when you woke, it was to the handsome face of your park ranger, Steve Rogers.

a cozy steve rogers autumn masterlist

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

CUUUTEEEEEE💞💞💞

The Blanket in The Box- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson warnings: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE THE TEAM I'M SO SORRY I'LL WRITE A SECOND PART, silly about: request! "What if fem reader got a blanket of bucky. how would he react? how would the team react? i just felt like if u write this promt u would give it the best justification." (THANK YOU SO MUCH for thinking of me so nicely thank you i hope you liked it!!). a/n: this fic won!! i hope you're ready. i hope i did the idea justice!! also i could not for the life of me think of a clever little title so i made it like a bones episode name. yay!

“Something came for you.” Sam is standing at your open door, fingers tucked underneath a large box that has his arms brawnier than usual and his brows up to his forehead, a false innocence in his eye that makes you think he knows exactly what he’s carrying.

You stare at the box for a second and try to think, recalling each order placed and its corresponding package received. You gasp. Sam’s lips prune up like he can read your mind, his fingers curving a little protectively. 

You leap from your bed and snatch it away from him, its weight surprising enough to slip straight out of your hands. You heave a foot over the sealed flaps and stare at Sam’s smile. “Go,” you say.

“What?” He exclaims indignantly, grin dropping. “That’s not fair! This whole thing is thanks to me—I should reap some rewards.”

“How?” you demand, bewildered. “They were my targeted ads. Mine.” You push your finger into your chest for emphasis.

"Sure. But would you have paid attention to those targeted ads without my mindful encouragement?" Hard shoving, more like.

"Yes!" you insist, eyes narrowed.

He drops his indignance and instead adopts pleading. “Please just let me see his reaction, you won’t even be able to tell I’m there—”

“No!” you push him out of your room and close the door, leaving him importunate on the other side.

He raps gently at the door with the base of his palm. “Just let me see it! I just want to see it in real life once.”

You press your lips together and crack the door open a sliver. He jumps back and stands ramrod straight, chin dipped hopefully. “Tomorrow,” you say. “You’ll be the first I show."

He looks at you dubiously. "You swear?"

You press your palm to your chest. "From the bottom of my heart."

He seems to accept your offer, glancing back up at you inquisitvely. You back up preemptively, gripping the doorknob tighter. He steps closer. "Will you please take a video, I'll do whatev—"

You shut and lock the door, turning back to The Box.

Apprehensively, you pace around the box, offhandedly snagging an intricate knife from the hidden curve of your closet. It's almost nerve-wracking when you push the blade against the tape, sucking in a giddy breath as you part the flaps open, tossing the weapon onto your carpet and tugging out the contents with great effort. It's doughier than you would have thought, covered with preservative tissue paper. You toss that aside as well, unfolding the blanket you wobble to your feet.

You gasp when you see it wholly, a hand grasping one end of the blanket, the other going to your mouth in order to stop the spiral into laughter.

It's amazing.

It’s greater than you could possibly imagine. Plastic-scented, sure, but you believe in sacrifice.

You hobble over to your bed, draping the blanket over the mattress. "Wow," you whisper, a little overwhelmed as you take in the details.

The Bucky at the top right corner is barely glancing at the camera, an obviously deeply zoomed-in paparazzi picture of him walking outside. Bottom Left Bucky is another papparazzi photo, this one of him holding your bag in a park. Bottom Right Bucky's hand is cut off, along with yours attached to it, but you can see your fingers peeking out behind another Bucky's head.

Top Left Bucky is side-profiled in a suit you remember from a gala, and another Bucky from the same night is in the middle, a little bigger. You recognize the image as one of the mandatory ones Tony ordered for the night, and it's clear why that one is meant to be the center of attention. It's clearer, the surly details of Bucky's face easier to make out; notably the closest thing to a smile a strange camera is going to get from him—the slightest, most sardonic painstaking curl of the corners of his lips.

Still. He's so handsome it makes your chest hurt.

His hair is neat and done in a way that accentuates his cheekbones, and the lovely splendour of his eyes translates even into blanket.

You lean in closer. "Huh," you say. "Did he always have such long eyelashes?"

One of your hands splays atop a grumpy picture of Bucky, fingers curling and uncurling on the fuzzy surface. Not bad.

For the real test, you pull an edge up and crawl underneath, pulling your chin to your chest to stare at the blanket from above.

"Warm," you mutter appreciatively, fisting your hands into a Bucky's face. You pinch it to your field of view, dragging a chunk off your ankle so you can observe this Bucky up close. You recognize his clothing as his mission gear. How someone got the picture is beyond you.

You're too busy picking at the blanket to notice the subject walk into your room, shutting the door very carefully once he's on the other side of it. "Hey."

You startle, meeting his eyes abashedly. You stretch out your fingers as far as they'll go over what you were looking at, but it's futile when there are twin faces on every other inch. Bucky hasn't seemed to notice your unease, and you try to get your limbs to relax so he won't.

"Hi," you force out, cringing when you sound doubtful. You clear your throat. "Heeey."

He frowns at you. "Do you know Sam is outside your room?"

"Is he?" you say. "How... strange."

Bucky gets to your bedside and stares down at you, dubious. "Are you feeling—" The back of his hand is grazing your forehead when he pauses, breath catching for what must be the first time. You don't stop looking at him, catching the contemplative inhale and subsequent eyebrow furrow when he realizes he isn't even sure what to ask.

You stare at each other for a few moments until his lips part again, index finger tapping on your blanket. "Is that me?"

"No," you lie immediately. "No, it's not."

"I'm pretty sure... I'm pretty sure that's my face."

"No."

"I know it pretty well."

"Me too."

"Why do—where did th—" He sighs, deeply and deflatedly.

"It's Sam's fault," you blurt. "Mainly. Or, actually, it's because of how shitty our privacy is nowadays. You're right. Things were better back in the old days."

"Where did you get this?"

"Etsy," you admit ashsamedly. "It was actually pretty expensive. I got an ad for it and it started off as a joke, and then..."

His head shakes confusedly, pupils flickering between each face on top of you. "Why... why do you have this?"

"I got an ad," you repeat.

"Sure. But... why?"

"I don't know. I generally try to avoid the Bucky Barnes edits."

"That's not what I... I mean why would you listen to it?

"I personally like it."

"How would someone make this?"

"A collage? I don't know, the internet is getting hard for me to understand."

"Why? Why would this exist?"

"Why not?" you counter.

He steps back, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. His pupils erratic before they settle on a specific part. You try and follow his gaze, arriving at a shirtless image of him from a couple metres away, a towel draped around his neck.

“How did they get that picture?” He looks it over critically, a grimace on his face. He grows a little more horrified as he discovers more stills of him in different situations.

"You know there are these things of all of us? I found one for Steve. Mine's pretty creepy." You slip out from underneath it, standing guiltily next to Bucky. He's barely noticed you, a frantic finger drumming on Bottom Right Bucky's shoulder. "Tony has one of himself. I'm pretty sure he had it commissioned."

Bucky doesn't respond and you tug at his shirt. "Will you stop glaring at it?"

"I just... every time I think I get this century, aliens or Asgard or.... this happens."

You rub a soothing palm up and down his arm. "Okay, I'll give you that. That's fair enough."

"What are you going to do with it?" he asks, turning to you.

You cock your head. "What do you mean? What do you usually do with blankets?"

"Really?" He looks a little horrified.

"Yes, of course. Why else?" You grab his arm. "Touch it," you encourage, urging his hand to smooth over it. "It's soft."

"I guess."

"That's not something you can argue, Buck," you admonish.

"Wanna see?"

"No," you mutter, glaring at him. "It's gonna grow on you," you say menacingly.

"It won't."

"We'll see." You pat Middle Bucky on the head. "We'll see."

-

You like challenging yourself in harmless situations. Setting a ginormous plate on your non-dominant hand seems innocuous enough when the only thing threatening it is your impeccable balance, and after a particularly short mission, it serves to burn what's left of your adrenaline.

You step too confidently and your tray of cookies balances precariously on your palm.

You concentrate on each wobble, careful to not let anything slide too far. When you finally turn to your room, you let your shoulders slump from their place by their ears, only to regret it immediately when you tense again, sensing another presence the moment you step inside.

It's a relief for just a moment when you realize it's only Bucky splayed across your bed, because you realize he's sleeping very peacefully beneath the Bucky Blanket and your phone is in the pocket opposite to your free hand.

You gasp and subsequently snap your mouth shut, stilling in your doorway.

"My phone. My phone, nonono," you hiss in despair, needing to shut your eyes to concentrate but not wanting to look away. You suck in a beep breath, focusing on keeping the plate steady as you switch hands and pull your phone out.

"Ohh, I knew it. I told him," you whisper, taking a picture.

A shimmery glow takes on most of the weight, allowing you more freedom with angles. You're taking a slow step toward the bed when you're interrupted. You should've closed your door.

"No way," Sam chortles loudly. Your tray clatters to the floor, Bucky shoots up in the bed. "Nice nap, narcissist?"

it seems like every picture of him groans with Bucky.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #fic rec

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

A little slice of something sweet&spicy for @alexakeyloveloki on her bithday! 🍰🎉💗

A follow-up to Cherry

soft!dark enforcer Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve; hints of power imbalance; hint of innocence/corruption kink; hint of breeding kink; explicit se*ual situations;

You swallowed nervously as you walked up to the door of an expensive-looking house in the hills. The gate was wide open, two dark cars parked in the driveway. There was no sign of Steve's camaro, but maybe it was hidden in the huge garage in the separate building you passed.

The house looked like a renovated mid-century style and though you couldn't see it, you suspected there was a big swimming pool in the backyard.

The thought of which instantly created an image of Steve emerging from it - water dripping down his sculpted body, shimmering on the colorful ink of his tattoos.

You still haven't seen them, only the glimpse of those stretching up to his wrists and over his neck.

Jesus, you closed your eyes, once again feeling a wave of shame wash over you.

You met Steve two days ago. He was a complete stranger, with an aura of darkness that should make you run away.

Instead, you flew to him like a moth to a flame.

You allowed him to consume you the very first time you met him; hell, you were still trembling at the memory of the way he fucked you in his car, then right outside your apartment.

It could be just an adventure. A crazy one time thing you can brag about to your friends, for once having something really spicy to talk of.

But you kept the little piece of paper with Steve's address and dolled yourself up to meet him on the day he asked you.

Though the voice of reason yelled at you to at least have some doubts, you didn't hesitate for a single second as you put on a cute summer dress, a pair of bow sandals, and pink panties that already had a little wet spot, because you couldn't help thinking about what Steve was going to do to you on your date.

Nothing happened for a long moment after you rang the doorbell, your nervousness heightening in fear of being ignored. But then the door opened and you lifted up your gaze to look at a tall, bulky blonde man in what could be only described as surfer's style attire.

His long, wavy hair matched that vibe as well.

"Well, hello there." He grinned. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying two of it."

A small laugh escaped your lips, which seemed to make the huge hunk's smile widen.

"I'm- um, I'm supposed to meet Steve," you explained, clenching your fingers tighter around your purse.

"Ah, the five o'clock meeting he wouldn't disclose the details of. Come on in." The guy moved aside to let you pass. "He's finishing a previous meeting, but I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're already waiting."

He led you through the sunny house to an ajar door, through which you could hear scraps of conversation.

Steve's voice you recognized right away.

He spoke firmer than when he was talking to you, giving clipped commands and harsh critique. You'd never want him to use that tone with you.

"Your next meeting is here." Surfer guy simply walked inside the office.

He moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, while you stood there in the open door like a deer caught in headlights.

You felt like that, too.

Because the moment you stepped in the doorway of the office, your eyes landed right on Steve.

He was sitting behind a desk, his dark green shirt unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves rolled up. More tattoos were on display, as well a tiny glint of a golden chain around his neck.

His blue eyes zeroed in on you; his gaze moved up your body slowly, taking every inch as if he was already imagining every single detail of what he was going to do to you and how will you look taking it all.

Then his attention shifted to a group of men sprawled on a couch on the side of the office.

"Your incompetence made me late for my date." He said to them and there wasn't even a slightest hint of playfulness to his tone.

He made it sound as if they did a severe offence to him and he was a step away from making them pay for it.

You had no idea what line of work Steve dabbed in, but it sounded like a serious business with dire consequences. Now you felt like you were an intruder who should leave, or else Steve's annoyance will shift to you.

However, when Steve's eyes returned to you, the steely glint in them morphed into softness.

"Come here, Cherry," he slid his chair back and motioned for you to walk over to him.

Your heartrate quickened as you felt eyes on you when you fully stepped inside. You tried not to glance at any of the other men in the room, instead allowing Steve to hold your gaze and lure you into his flame.

You let out a surprised gasp when Steve pulled you into his lap the moment you rounded the desk.

One of your hands touched his chest as you braced yourself at the sudden change in position. Steve's skin was warm beneath your fingers, dark blonde curls of his chest hair tickling your palm slightly.

You quickly moved your hand away, embarrassed that you touched him so openly while strangers were watching.

Steve didn't seem to mind it. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips to brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Then he placed your hand back on his chest, while his own landed on your thigh.

Unabashedly high, almost slipping beneath your sundress.

"You're exactly on time, Cherry. You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He mused quietly, squeezing your flesh.

"Yes, Steve," your gaze dropped down and you tucked in your chin.

Steve studied you for a moment longer then turned his attention back to the others in the room.

"You have your orders and you better follow them exactly." Cold edge of his voice made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck to avoid his wrath.

"Thor, make sure they make no mistakes this time. Now leave. All of you."

You didn't lift your head even after you heard the last footsteps fading away, your gaze lingering on the twirls of ink on Steve's chest as your own heart hammered in your ribcage.

You were acutely aware there was just the two of you now left. And as much as it was what you wanted, your nervousness bloomed.

Steve cupped your chin and made you look up at him.

"I'm sorry for running late on our date, Cherry. I promise that what I have planned should make it up to you."

"But-" suddenly his charming smile twisted into a hungry smirk as both of his hands slid to your hips- "those imbeciles have worked me up and I need to take the edge off before we leave."

In a swift single move he hoisted you up onto his desk.

"With how stiff and shy you are on me now, I think you need to get off, too."

He spread your legs apart - not that you put up much of a fight - and moved his chair closer.

Steve flipped the skirt of your dress up and traced his fingers across the pink cotton of your panties. He pressed his thumb against your clit, right above a small wet spot of your arousal.

"I see you're eager for our date," he chuckled, rubbing your clit harder and watching the wet stain spread.

Your hands clenched on the edge of the desk when Steve pulled the fabric of your panties aside and inched his mouth closer.

"I bet you're sweet all over, sweet Cherry."

He took a taste with a swipe of his tongue, licking between your slick folds and flicking the tip over your clit.

Your hips bucked and your head fell back when he repeated the motion, this time in three rapid strokes. Then his mouth descended on you, biting into your pussy as if it was a juicy fruit.

You weren't sure if you came when his tongue flicked between your opening and your anus, or when Steve's mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Or maybe it was two orgasms melting into one.

Your eyelids were clenched shut and your head swimming when his fingers curled around the front of your neck. With a hand around your throat, Steve pushed you back until you lied down on the desk fully, while he stood up.

A clink of a buckle being undone reached your mushy brain and your eyes fluttered open. Just to see Steve pushing his zipper down.

His cock sprang free; big and thick and veiny.

Your cunt clenched, hungry to feel the stretch of him leave you sore again.

Steve pumped himself a few times before inching forward between your splayed thighs.

"W-wait," your hand reached up as last, barely functioning brain cells reminded you of something important.

Steve paused, as you asked, squeezing his shaft tighter. The sight of it made you drool, your thoughts threatening to melt away. But you managed to stay focused for a second longer.

"Condom. Do you have- can you put one on?" You asked, looking up at Steve with uncertainty.

You wanted him to use one, but you weren't sure if you'd really be able to stop it all if he refused to. You wanted him inside of you too much.

"Condom?" Steve quirked a brow in surprise, studying you.

"Yes, please. I'm not on birth control," you admitted, gulping nervously.

Steve's blue eyes darkened as your words sank in. He stepped closer, bare cock inches from your dripping, unprotected pussy.

"Sweet Cherry, you let me take your pretty, tight pussy raw, even though you could've ended up pregnant?"

His voice was a sinful temptation and his dirty words made your walls clench around nothing.

"Yes," you admitted, ashamed.

"Why, hm?" He resumed slow strokes of his cock as he put his other hand right above your pussy, spreading his fingers wide on your abdomen and dipping his thumb between your folds.

Because I wanted you so bad.

Because I needed you inside me at any cost.

Because I liked that you branded me with your cum.

Because I didn't care what you do to me as long as you kept doing it.

"I don't know." You bit your bottom lip. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wasn't thinking at all. I just- I want to be responsible now."

"What a good, smart girl you are," Steve praised, brushing his thumb along your clit.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a short strip of foil packets. He ripped one open and rolled a condom on.

His hand returned to your throat as he pressed the head of his cock against your slick opening.

"We'll be responsible, Cherry," he leaned over you and kissed you softly.

"For now," he added in a dark rasp while thrusting deep into you.

And then he took you, with the same unrelenting force that left you boneless and moaning. Steve praised that you sounded sweet and needy; you thought you sounded more of a whore. You didn't care anyway, because the way he was making you feel was maddening good.

You came around him once, the second climax Steve forced out of you with a hand choking the air out of you and a pinch to your clit.

He finished with a groan; lips parted and face flushed, possessive glint in his eyes as he watched you twitch beneath him.

If he wasn't planning on keeping to his promise and taking you out on a proper, nice date, he wouldn't empty into the condom, but instead withdraw from your sweet cunt and come all over your pretty sundress.

But Steve was a man of his word.

So he tossed the used rubber into the bin, helped you clean yourself up, then readjusted your dress and helped your wobbly legs walk outside.

He could ruin you more when he took you back home later.

#feral for enforcer steve

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Tension

Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.

Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)

A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗

Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x

Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.

You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.

This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.

And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.

It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.

Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.

With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.

“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”

Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.

Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.

It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.

“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”

Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.

So, what harm could it do?

After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.

Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.

“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”

After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”

Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?

Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.

Woah, settle down girl.

A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.

If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.

That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.

It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.

You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.

The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“

“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”

You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.

Things were about to get interesting.

“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”

Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.

Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.

Fuck my life.

You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.

As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.

Probably both.

The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.

You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.

Yep, definitely Bucky.

Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.

You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.

“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”

What the fuck?

Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?

Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.

You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”

The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”

Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.

Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.

“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”

You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.

“I bet you are.”

If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.

To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.

“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”

The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.

Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.

Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.

Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.

Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.

Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?

Absolutely fucking not.

You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.

But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.

So, he comes up with a plan.

“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”

Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”

“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”

The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.

So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”

“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”

Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.

And a perfect chance.

“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”

You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.

Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.

He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.

“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”

Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”

That’s what I love to hear.

“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”

The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.

He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.

Fuck it.

Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.

Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.

But, you want this.

The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.

As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”

With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”

And that’s all the confirmation he needs.

Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.

You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.

The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.

“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.

He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.

Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”

The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.

He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.

Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.

The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.

Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.

“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.

“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.

You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.

“Good.”

That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.

The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.

First things first, Barnes.

Right.

After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.

You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.

“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”

The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.

Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.

“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”

You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.

And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.

Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”

With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.

Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.

“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”

All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.

“Fuck!”

“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”

You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.

Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.

He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.

“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”

You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.

And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.

“BUCKY!”

He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.

White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.

Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.

He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.

“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”

Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.

He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.

Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.

“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”

You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.

“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”

Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”

He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.

“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”

Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.

Fucking knew it.

He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.

And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.

“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”

A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Nothing you say can hurt me when i have a whole army of pretty pornbots following me. I’m invincible.

#they’re like a fun shield from any hate #and they all like snowboarding for some reason which is cool

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this was so unbelievably cute 🥹 goddamn stevie ruinin the moment though 😩

Sugar and Spice

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You make a sweet impression on one of the new tattoo artists in the neighborhood. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Flirting, fluff, innuendos, brief moment of insecurity (reader's mom kind of sucks, sorry!), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Future smut, slight angst, and feels. A/N: Because I "need" another tattoo AU, let me introduce you to Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne , @sweeterthanthis, @dreamlessinparis, @11thstreetvigilante for listening to me ramble about this man and some future upcoming shennanigans. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and Bucky edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first time Bucky Barnes walked into your bakery, your best friend and co-owner, Tess, assumed he was lost. Maybe because he didn't appear to be your average customer. A confident aura surrounded him, like he took what he wanted without question. You hadn't encountered a man who looked like sin incarnate before.

It took you a moment to greet him with how dry your mouth had gone.

The stranger didn't smile as he made it to the counter in a few strides. It surprised you that he got through the door with his massive frame. The dark t-shirt and jeans looked painted on and the skin you could see was littered with tattoos. A handsome package wrapped up with chestnut brown hair past his ears, short beard, and steel blue eyes.

Lust at first sight was an understatement.

It was as if he walked out of your wet dreams and into your life.

Sin. Incarnate.

You smiled from ear to ear when you saw him up close, even though he still didn't smile back. You didn't take it personally. Tess once said you were too sweet for your own good, but you replied you never knew what was going on with your customers. Maybe a bit of kindness would brighten their day.

You weren't sure if it was friendliness that he needed, but he wouldn't stop staring at you.

You admitted to yourself later that his gaze made your heart pound and it wasn't out of intimidation.

"Hi. What can I get for you?" you asked.

He blinked and looked toward the display case, giving you a chance to exhale.

When did you start holding your breath?

"Something sweet," he said, his voice huskier than you expected as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those were the exact words my punk friend said."

"That's extremely helpful in a bakery," you deadpanned.

His eyebrows shot up as you dropped the serious expression and started laughing. It surprised you when he laughed with you. Not only did you consider his reaction a personal victory, but it made him look even more handsome.

How was that possible?

"Exactly what I said."

"Well, not sure if he's allergic to anything or how many of you are eating, but we can do an assortment of cookies if you'd like," you suggested, walking to the end of the case to show him the different flavors.

"That sounds good. A dozen should work," he said, narrowing his eyes as he placed his large hands on the glass and looked it over again. Was it rude to stare at him? "And since the punk didn't tell me what he wanted, surprise me."

"I'll pick the best flavors," you smiled as you grabbed a box and tongs.

"What's your favorite?" he asked curiously, folding his hands and resting his chin on top of them as you selected the cookies.

Your cheeks flamed when you realized he was watching you. You hoped you didn't drop anything. "Can't go wrong with chocolate chip. It's a classic. If I had to pick a favorite treat overall, I'd pick the caramel chocolate brownie. Simple, but full of flavor."

"I'll take one of those, too, please."

"Sure. You'll have to let me know what you think," you said, placing the best brownie from the batch in a smaller box.

"So, you're saying you want me to come back," he said with a half smile as he pushed himself off the display to follow you back to the register. "Is that it?"

Is he flirting with me? No, he couldn't be.

Your mom chastised you for ending things with your recent boyfriend. According to her, you should've appreciated that a charming, good-looking man wanted you all of all people. It hurt to hear that, but he turned out to be a jerk and you refused to settle for less than what you deserved.

You also wouldn't let negative thoughts cloud your safe space.

"I wouldn't mind," you giggled before you cleared your throat. Even if by some miracle he was hitting on you, you weren't supposed to flirt while you worked. "We like having repeat customers," you added.

"I'm sure you have plenty. It's a cute shop."

You looked for a hint of sarcasm on his face and found none. "Thanks," you said, holding your head a bit higher. The shop was your baby and you took pride in it, always doing your best to make it as bright and welcoming as you could. "And I really would like to know what you think. Always looking to improve if we can."

"It's a good thing I'm just across the street," he said as he got his wallet out. "I can sample the entire menu."

You began to ring him up when you paused. "You don't happen to work in the new tattoo shop, do you?"

Some of the other business owners on the block weren't too happy about a tattoo parlor opening up, afraid that it would attract a rougher crowd. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover. You also felt bad that you hadn't had a chance to go over to introduce yourself.

"Co-owner. What gave it away?" he asked, reminiscent of your deadpan delivery moments ago.

"Oh, just this feeling," you teased, wondering how many tattoos he had hidden under his clothes. You cut that thought off and stopped him when he took some cash out to pay. "On the house as a small welcome to the neighborhood."

He moved his hand over to the tip jar and dropped the money in. "Thanks," he gave you a half smile again as he glanced at the nametag on your bright apron and said your name.

It sounded like honey on his tongue.

"I'm Bucky, by the way. Nice to meet you," he said, taking the boxes.

"Nice to meet you, too," you smiled back, a wave of heat rolling down your chest at the thought of him coming back to see you. "Enjoy the treats."

"I'm sure they'll be as sweet as you, Sugar," he smirked.

You stood there, stunned, as he walked out of the shop. Thankfully it was a slow time of day and you had a moment to fan yourself once you remembered to breathe. You had half a mind to get a tattoo as an excuse to see him again.

"Who the hell was that?" Tess asked from behind you.

You jumped and clutched your chest, forgetting that she was in the shop. "My new crush," you answered without thinking.

"Obviously. I thought he was lost until he ordered something," she snickered as she nudged your shoulder. "You were giggling."

"Yeah. Well, I doubt he'll be back," you mumbled, going to the case to wipe it down.

"Oh, he'll be back. I saw how he looked at you," she said, moving her eyebrows up and down. "You're the sugar he wants to taste."

"Did you see how hot he is? He has plenty of 'sugar' out there and I'm," you waved your hand as you tried to think of a good comparison. "I don't know. I'm Splenda."

"Okay. First, that sounds like your mother talking, which is not allowed in here. Second, you're not Splenda. You're the whole bakery. No putting yourself down in our sanctuary," Tess said sternly. She liked to give you a hard time as your best friend, but she was serious when it came to your love life and self-esteem. "For real. You're a catch."

"Maybe he'll fall in love after he eats the brownie I gave him," you joked.

"That's the spirit," Tess said, graciously not calling you out on your deflection. "He'll be back."

You didn't want to get your hopes up over a stranger, but you did want to see him again.

You just didn't expect him to visit your shop again the very next day.

"So," he said when he went to the counter and set his hands on it, blocking out everything behind him. "About that brownie."

"Yeah?" you asked breathlessly, praying you looked halfway decent. "What did you think?"

"Best fucking brownie I've ever had," he grinned and rubbed his stomach. The praise rendered you speechless. "What else is good here?"

Me. I'm good.

You wished you said what was on your mind, but you gave him one of the leftover sample cakes instead.

It went on like that for over a week. Bucky would stop in and select a new dessert. On the slower days, he tried the treat at the counter and chatted with you. Tess messaged you on your day off to tell you how disappointed he looked when you weren't there. He bought two items when you saw him the next day.

The brownie was still his favorite.

So you decided to surprise him when he showed up at his usual time. The blue Henley made his eyes stand out more and the smile he gave you sent heat through your core. Your hand managed not to shake as you held up a plate for him. You couldn't help but want to impress him.

"Is that my brownie?" he asked when he went to greet you.

"With a twist. Caramel chocolate brownie, but I added chocolate fudge frosting," you replied, handing it to him. His fingers touched yours and you wished at that moment that the counter didn't separate the two of you. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," he said, keeping his eyes on you as he brought the brownie to his mouth and took a bite. They slipped shut as he let out a deep moan. His head fell back briefly, too.

Your fingers twisted in your apron as you pressed your thighs together. Did he do that on purpose or was it that good? You didn't think your treats were worthy of pornographic sounds.

"Fucking delicious," he promised as he opened his eyes and took another bite. "It'll hurt my feelings if you don't add this to the menu."

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it," you said, wondering if the words sounded as breathless as you felt.

"I haven't tried a single thing here I didn't like, Sugar."

"Why do you keep calling me 'Sugar'?"

"'Cause you seem sweet, like these treats you make for everyone," Bucky stated as a matter of fact. "I can stop if you don't like it."

"Please, don't stop," you said. You liked hearing it from him.

He smirked as he licked a bit of frosting off his thumb, your mouth salivating at the sight. "Not how I expected to hear those words from you."

Blood rushed to your cheeks as your brain tried to process what he said. You could play it cool. Or play along. "Well, Hottie, if you're lucky, you might hear them in a different way."

Bucky's mouth shifted from a smirk to a full blown grin. "Hottie?"

You tried to summon the ground to swallow you up, but it didn't work.

"Well. Yeah. I mean, you call me Sugar, which makes you Spice. Spices can be hot and you're a hottie," you said with as much dignity as possible before you giggled. "Or I can just call you Bucky and we forget this entire conversation."

"I won't forget. My memory can be fuzzy at times, but I'll remember this conversation," he promised, tapping his temple. "And keep calling me that. I like it."

You leaned across the counter, trying to look as enticing as possible. At least, as much as you could in your work apron. He visited the shop multiple times now and he was definitely flirting with you now. You could make a move.

Don't be Splenda. Be the whole bakery.

"Bucky, would you want to-"

The door swung open before you could finish your question, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "There you are, Buck. Andy is actually smiling at someone. Hal's trying to get a picture. You gotta see this."

Bucky's nostrils flared as he closed his eyes. "Fucking punk."

He sounds as disappointed as I feel.

"Friend of yours?" you guessed.

"That's just Steve with his impeccable timing."

Bucky stepped aside so you could get a look at his friend. The man was just as large as your newfound crush, also covered in tattoos with long, blonde hair and a trimmed beard. And he was beaming at you.

"You must be Sugar. Buck mentioned you."

"Is that right?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve smiled. "Hasn't shut up about you."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you gazed at the brunette. He didn't look ashamed or embarrassed as he stared back. You must have made some sort of good impression on him if he spoke to a friend about you.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked, ignoring his friend for the time being as he handed you his empty plate.

"Yeah. I'm opening the shop," you answered.

"If I'm not arrested for murdering my best friend, I'll come back and we can finish our conversation," he said as Steve frowned. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "If that's okay with you."

Who in their right mind would say "no"?

"More than okay. I'll see you tomorrow," you said, giving Steve a wave as Bucky stomped toward him. "Nice meeting you, Steve."

"You, too. Keep making those cookies! They're so good!" he chuckled as his friend chased him out of the shop.

"Oh, who the hell was that?!" Tess shouted from the back of the office.

"A friend with bad timing," you called back with a shake of your head.

"You were finally going to ask him out, weren't you?" she asked, poking her head out. "About time. Sick of hiding in the office so I don't have to watch you two flirt."

You scoffed when you caught her smiling. "You love being in the office. And tomorrow is a new day. I'll ask him."

"You better wear something pretty for your hottie."

She's never going to let me live that nickname down.

You weren't sure what you were going to wear tomorrow, but you knew you couldn't wait to open the shop and see Bucky again.

Hope you liked this sweet introduction and can't wait to share more of this Bucky and the other boys. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #navybrat writes

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

oh my god…some people are fucking FREAKS and not in the good way 🤨

Sometimes i think I’m obsessed but then i see this shit

i am somehow always surprised when i see someone believe that they have a relationship with a celebrity, especially at the GROWN AGE OF THIRTY like??? please contact your nearest medical professional this is not healthy

Y’all what the fuck.

I am speechless.

#touch grass #some of y’all need to seek help #chris evans

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this was achingly beautiful and soft 🥹

The senses of Steve

Smell

Series Masterlist

Previous: Hearing Next: Taste

Word count: 8,754

Summary: Steve took a deep breath to try and recollect himself, convince his brain to put down all the worries it's been carrying the weight of. But when he got a big inhale of your sweet skin and cucumber green tea body wash, he had no choice but to feel safe.

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

You could barely remember the events leading up to that moment.

Heat stung every surface of your body. The ringing in your ears left you unable to hear, you couldn't see through the rubble and the thick black soot in the air. Your balance was thrown off, there was no such thing as up and down, left or right.

You stumbled to the floor as you tried to take steps, you didn't know where those steps were trying to lead you, but now you definitely knew which direction down was.

Tiny chunks of rubble were hitting your body as you fought with everything you had, crawling on your forearms since your legs couldn't support you anymore.

All you could smell was smoke, gunpowder from a grenade, and burning flesh which you assumed was yours. You could even taste it as you coughed up the smoke and hazardous gas in the air.

It smelled the same way it felt, violent and painful.

After more crawling, coughing, and attempts at breathing, you remembered what you did and why you did it.

Ran into the building with the bomb to save the day.

That's what superheroes do right? That's what Avengers do.

They run into buildings with bombs.

You wanted to save the day, you wanted to make a wrong thing right, you wanted to finally feel like the hero everyone thought you were.

And you did it. You saved the day.

It was over. No need to fight anymore, you fixed it.

That very thought allowed you to roll over on your back and take a second to come to your senses. The dizziness warping your vision didn't give you much to work with, but you could see you were far enough away from the residual fires now to try and recollect your composure.

Although religious faith was something that escaped you so early in childhood, you laid there flat on your back and prayed to whatever god could hear you that this would be over soon.

Panting some more, coughing between groans of pain while laying flat on your back, you heard foot steps running towards you. Though every nurve in your body screaming at you for making such a selflessly poor choice, you still almost couldn't believe that those footsteps belonged to Thor as he scooped you up off the ground.

The only god you knew, making sure it would be over soon.

Weird.

You felt like a rag doll in his arms, as if your weight was equivalent to a new born kitten or perhaps even a feather.

Allowing your head to roll back, you closed your eyes and focused on breathing, because really, that's all you needed to do.

It was pretty much the only rule of surviving around the Avengers. If you were injured, they would take care of everything else for as long as you continued breathing.

You were transferred from Thor's arms to a few other team members in the process of trying to get you back to the Jet as effectively as possible.

They all tried to speak reassuring words to you, but every sound was still too muffled to hear exactly what they were trying to communicate.

You couldn't tell who was who while you were being passed around, but the moment you were placed into the arms of your sweet soldier, you knew immediately. The lingering smell of his cologne cut through the smoke in your nose and provided you the most comfort you felt since waking up next to him not even eight hours ago.

It was clean and fresh, a vast contrast to the acrid sulfur lingering in your sinuses. The smell of him brought you comfort without even needing to hear his kind words or feel his gentle hands on your skin.

Olfactory memories flooded your brain as just the smell of him brought you to your happy place. Suddenly you were slow dancing on a ballroom floor, watching romcoms, and eating ice cream. The lingering vanilla on his tongue always made the flavor of your dark chocolate caramel seem brighter between bites.

That happy place kept you calm as your senses came back to you. As your hearing came tunneling back in and you managed to blink the dirt from your eyes, you could hear the frantic chatter around the room.

"She's fine! She's fine... she's okay."

"She's in shock, give her a second."

"Come on newbie, we can't have you retiring after your first win." You we're able to recognize Tony's voice. "That would be really tragic, and honestly, I don't wanna go through the process of interviewing and training a new hire again. It's really inconvenient and time consuming."

Using most of the strength you had, you raised your middle finger at him.

"Oh, look at that, she's fine!" Thor snorted a laugh.

You looked around the Jet just to see them all staring at you in close proximity like a tiger at the zoo that was pacing in front of the glass.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Sam asked, showing you four fingers.

"Twelve" You joked. Your voice sounded a lot weaker than intended, everyone looked around at each other like you were serious. "S'just a joke." You clarified. "Four."

You could feel Steve let out a high sigh of relief as he squeezed you a little tighter and pressed a kiss into your hair.

"Alright well..." Tony threw his hands up in the air. "Great show you put on there. Jarvis is telling me you'll be fine in a few hours. You just need some time and water you'll be good as new. Good job everyone... newbie... even better job. Let's get these wheels up." He dismissed everyone.

There were various nods around the room before everyone disbursed into seats around the Jet, buckling in for maximum safety.

Steve gently set you down into the seat right next to him, an aisle facing forward with seats for only two. He very gently buckled your seatbelt, asking you if it was too tight, too loose, causing you additional pain... he just really wanted you to be comfortable.

As he got himself buckled in, you head hit the back of the seat and you closed your eyes for a few minutes, desperately trying to process how fast all of that happened. In just a blink of an eye with almost no second thought- you almost met your fate.

But fate told you it wasn't your time yet.

"Are you okay?" Steve whispered as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck and kept it there.

"Mhm" you hummed quietly, still in shock.

"You scared the shit out of me." He admitted, very carefully taking one of your hands into both of his.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized sincerely. If the situation was reversed and he was the one put into such danger, you don't even know how terrified you would've been. You would choose your spot any day. "Takes a lot to scare you, hmm?"

"And yet some how, you made me feel like I'm having a heart attack. What an accomplishment." He noted.

"Are you okay?" Your words unintentionally mumbled.

"Yeah, I'm great." Through the brain fog you couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "If you would've waited 30 more seconds, honey, I could've used the shield. I could've-"

"You know damn well we didn't have thirty seconds." You reminded him softly, placing your extra hand on the back of one of his. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"I think we should both retire." He half joked, trying to get his heart back to a healthy and slow beat.

"You first, Captain." A ghost of a smile turned your lips upward.

"You did such a good job." His praise warmed your insides and lit up all the dark parts of your brain. "You really saved a lot of people, I'm so proud of you."

"It was a group effort." You whispered with a grin, blinking your eyes open again. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"You can do anything you set your mind to, Princess." Steve reminded you. "But you do know I'm not letting you out of my sight for the next 5-6 years, right?"

"I'm prepared" You let out a giggle, followed by more coughing.

He sat up and leaned forward to grab your insulated water bottle full of ice cold water before unscrewing the lid. "Here you go. You're going to feel pretty shitty for the next few hours, but it'll go away."

"Thank you, Honey." You mumbled before chugging down half the bottle. "Remind me to never do that again."

"You'll never have to." Steve took the water bottle from you and set it down carefully before lifting the arm rest between you and gently pulling you into his side as much as the seatbelts would allow. He cradled your head as it dropped onto his shoulder, his fingers gently massaged your scalp as you settled into him. "I'll make sure of it." He pressed a kiss into your forehead.

"This is the grossest sight I've ever witnessed." The two of you heard Sam's voice from the row behind you. "It's so sweet I'm going to puke."

"It's a good thing we have barf bags on every seat." Steve defended with a smile on his face.

Through the rest of your flight and when you got home, Steve was the sweetest slice of heaven as you recovered. He always was.

He helped you get washed up and changed as painlessly as possible, made you comfortable and allowed you to use him as a human body pillow for as long as you needed. You were brought dinner in bed, entertained with a paper and pen by playing approximately one billion rounds of tick tack toe, then got you back to sleep for the night with a shoulder massage.

Instead of being woken up to an alarm the next morning, you were woken up to back rubs and sweet kisses planted all over your face.

"Steeeeve" You sleepily complained, hiding your face into his bare chest to avoid his efforts of kissing you awake.

"Good morning, pretty girl." He giggled at your attempts to stay asleep, but he continued rubbing your back and arms to keep you awake.

"Steven" You complained again.

"Hmm?" He hummed with a smile.

"You're so mean." You pouted, nowhere near ready to start the day.

"I know, I'm sorry." He agreed. "You know we have a meeting in 45 minutes? I just wanted to see how you were feeling, because of you aren't feeling up to it I think you should skip."

"Can I go in my jammies?" You asked, the combination of the lingering smoke scratching up your throat and hours of sleep made your voice sound pathetic.

Steve looked down at your sleeping form in nothing but a shirt that was far too big for your frame, and his smile only grew wider. "I think the team would appreciate some pants."

"I don't like pants." You told him even though he already knew that damn well. "My ears are still ringing."

"That's normal." He reassured you, using the tips of his fingers to draw abstract shapes into your back. "The ringing and the pants. You don't have to join the meeting, I can excuse you."

"I'm too injured, Stevie. I can't attend and I need someone to take care of me." You over exaggerated to try and get him out of the meeting too.

"Nice try, I appreciate it." He grinned. "The second it's over I'll come right back to you, okay? We can do whatever you want today once it's over."

"All I want to do today is sleep in with you." You complained, holding onto him tightly. "You're so warm and so cute and you smell so good."

His cheeks turned pink at your praise and a giggle slipped past his lips. "That bomb must've really done a number on you, I've never seen you quite this clingy before." Steve sweetly noted, feeling warm and bubbly inside.

"You know what I'm gunna do?" You asked him rhetorically.

"Hmm?" He questioned, drawing a heart into your back.

"Im going to ask Scott for some pym particles, then when I get them I'm going to shrink you into a little tiny hamster sized Steve, and I'm gunna put you in my pocket." You spoke as if you had already made up your mind. This was a matter of fact! "I'm gunna take you with me everywhere I go."

"But what if you squish me on accident?" He asked feeling more loved and wanted than he ever has in his whole life.

"Luckily the pym particles allow you to keep your strength when you're small." You reminded him. "So if I squish you, it'll feel like this!" You took the opportunity to squeeze him with all your might, as hard as you could without hurting the poor guy. While you squeezed, you took the opportunity to roll over on top of him and settled right back into his body.

"Oh, Honey," He laughed at your antics. "How am I supposed to get anything done like this?" He tried to hard to contain how happy you were making him, but he felt like the giddy teenager he never got a true chance to be.

"Cancel the meeting?" You propped yourself up so you could lift your head and look at him, poking out your bottom lip like a kid to try and convince him.

He kissed the pout right off your lips, then the pout was replaced with a smile upon the sight of his adorable bed head. "You're really convincing and you raise some good points, but the show must go on."

"The show where I shrink you into a hamster Steve and hide you?" You asked hopefully. "Can't have a meeting if Captain America is MIA."

"The show where you get some more sleep in, and you won't even notice I'm gone. Then by the time I get back I'll be able to give you all my attention and you won't have to shrink me and shove me in your pocket." He explained with the cutest lopsided smile.

"You have the best smile." You sleepily complemented causing his blush to deepen. Your hands made their way up to cup his cheeks, and your thumbs landed on the very corners of his lips. Tugging them upwards, you created an even bigger smile with an incredible view of his perfect teeth and the perfect excuse to feel how warm his cheeks were. "You'll come back after?"

"Of course." He nodded. "You sure you're feeling okay today? M'worried about you still."

"Nothing burns or stings" You confirmed. "Arm hurts a little and my ears are ringing, but I'm okay."

"Okay, I'm glad." He whispered. "I'll tuck you in before I go?"

"Nothing will ever be as warm as you, but I'll take what I can get." You grinned.

He tucked you in nice and tight, placed kisses all over your face, and bid you the sweetest goodbye.

After he left you couldn't get yourself to fall back asleep, your mind kept replaying the way he reacted whenever you said something nice about him. The blushing cheeks, big smile, and shy demeanor always made you feel so happy- it made you feel like you were doing a good job in giving him the love he always deserved to have.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he was always the one putting in the work. He opened the doors, paid for dates, dished the complements, kept you safe and happy, yet whenever you tried to do those things for him he would always deny.

Steve was always so instant that he should be the one providing all of those wonderful benefits of being in a relationship that he didn't even realize he was missing out himself. You loved and enjoyed every moment of his kind heart and endless chivalry, but sometimes you felt shitty that he wouldn't let you reciprocate.

Those thoughts led you down a path to devise the perfect plan on creating perfect creative solutions to make sure he was feeling just as taken care of as you were.

You started small as to not immediately alert him of your super secret mission. After your very first motorcycle ride through the city, you were feeling so excited that you finally decided to take him up on his offer for a ride to see all the bright city lights. Motorcycle rides were something he would occasionally suggest, and something you always denied. Though you were an elite avenger, motorcycles always scared you a bit. You never understood what could possibly be so rewarding about a ride on the motorbike that it would outweigh the risks.

Holding on to him for dear life even though he was taking it slow and extra super careful to accommodate his precious cargo, helmet strapped on extra tight, and at stop lights one of his hands would leave the steering handles just to hold yours that were wrapped tightly around his torso, communicating that he was so happy to have you there.

The girl of his dreams on the back of his bike, another teenage dream come true.

When you got back to his dedicated parking spot, he helped you off, you pulled the helmet off your head and he was ready for the anticipated review of your first ride.

You draped your arms over his shoulders while his hands found your waist as you told him your favorite parts- how you were a little scared but braved through the fast turns that made your tummy flip.

But most importantly, the sentence "My absolute favorite part of the night is that you always help me do things I've never had the courage to do." Slipped out of your lips without a second thought. "I always feel safe with you."

His face softened into the cutest expression and the twinkle in his eyes let you know you had accomplished a tiny piece of your goal. That face only encouraged you to keep going.

A few days later you finally caught him on his way in the shower, so you snuck off with his towel and put it in the dryer so by the time he was done, the towel was super warm and extra fluffy. Running through the halls to get back to the bathroom, you caught him just in time to wrap him up in the warm fabric before he even got to question what you were doing.

Luckily it was big enough to drape over his broad shoulders, trap his arms, and cozily cover him up. He let out a relaxed sigh and closed his eyes as he hugged it tighter around his body. Water droplets dripping off the ends of his short and soggy hair made him look like the most adorable being on the planet.

Steve was a man all about efficiency, everything he did was made out to be exactly what it was. A shower was strictly for washing the daily dirt away, a towel was to dry off, and the whole shebang had no need in being over five minutes.

You loved gently pushing him towards a more relaxed mindset. One where a long hot shower eased your tense muscles, and helped you decompress. It was time alone to refresh, step away from daily duties and simply spend time taking care of yourself. A warm fluffy towel was a cozy cocoon to enjoy while you moisturized your skin, and lathered yourself up in your favorite lotions. It was time still spent effectively, because it was time spent loving and taking care of yourself.

Watching him take that time to just close his eyes and enjoy the warmth even for a quick moment was enough to make you happy. When he opened his eyes again, your favorite smile crept up quickly. "Can I keep you forever?" He asked.

"Sounds like fun." You nodded, your own grin taking over.

"It's so warm!" He enthused. "I don't even want to put my clothes on now."

"Just enjoy the warmth for a little while." You suggested.

"But I need to put product in my hair before it dries" he pouted.

"Purple bottle?" You questioned, pointing to the tiny bottle of hair product. He nodded in response. "I'll do it! Here, sit down." You instructed pointing to the edge of the luxurious bathtub that was definitely a product of Tony's extravagant wallet.

He did just that, in just a few strides he sat and waited as you warmed some of the liquid in your hands and stood right in front of him. The moment you ran your fingers through his hair with the cream to keep it silky soft and deeply conditioned, the smell of his shampoo hit your nose. You loved it so much, the sandalwood, black currant, and vanilla was just enough to smell absolutely divine, yet subtle enough to keep you craving more.

His eyes closed again as you worked his hair and when you were satisfied, you ran your fingers through a few more times for good measure. You could tell he was enjoying the head massage just as much as you enjoyed taking care of him.

Without him even mentioning it, you moved onto moisturizer. You already knew his after shower routine from watching it so many times, so you already knew this is what he would do next anyways.

You very gently rubbed it all over his face, and it gave you a great chance to appreciate all his facial features unapologetically. It was almost unfair how long his eyelashes were, how prominently his cheekbones stuck out, or how perfectly sharp and angular his jawline was.

Don't even get yourself started on his nose, it was just so cute. Sometimes you couldn't even resist kissing the little bump or the the very tippy top between his eyes. So that's exactly what you did, his face between your palms and his nose underneath his lips.

"I don't know where your chapstick is." You admitted quietly.

"That's okay," he opened his eyes to look at your pretty face just inches from his. "I'll just take some of yours."

He closed the distance and kissed your lips, they lingered there for a little while but it continued to stay sweet, his mouth tasted just as minty as it smelled.

As you both pulled away, he rubbed his lips together to eventually spread some of your chapstick that got on his lips.

"Perfect!" He smiled.

You laughed at the opportunity he took, and truly you loved every second. "I'm glad that worked out so well for you."

"Towels not warm anymore." He frowned.

"Good timing, there's nothing else for me to do to help you stall." You smile was continuous.

He got dressed after you dismissed him with a few pats to the top of his head, but it all turned out to be for nothing. Steve, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, and Tony all got placed on an emergency mission.

It turned out to be a long one, three weeks away had erased every single one of your loving words and gentle touches from his mind and body. It was brutal. Fatalities left and right, violence that took so long to stop that Steve started to question whether they would be able to even finish the mission.

He managed to call home a few times- he didn't want to make you sad, but he couldn't help but to tell you all about how much he missed you. He couldn't sleep without you, his favorite sleeping buddy stealing all his blankets. He missed the smell of the detergent you used to wash your clothes and bedding, how he ran so many miles every single day the serum was barely able to recover his muscles before each morning, and how he would give the world just to get a hug from your arms and see your pretty smile.

It always just fell out of his mouth like word vomit, you could tell he just needed to let it all out, he always felt better after ranting.

After a long night and a few hours on the phone trying to sooth Steve with nothing but your words, you woke up exhausted the next morning.

Hair disheveled, stain on your shirt that was two sizes too big for you paired with Steve's sweatpants and miss matched socks, you knew you looked like a mess but you didn't care. Everyone would just have to deal with you in your full glory.

You shuffled and dragged your feet through the sea of colleagues and sat at the island with a big yawn.

"You look like you had a long night." Clint observed.

"Shut your face, Barton." You crossed your arms onto the marble countertop and hunched over to hide your head in your arms.

"I think you look lovely!" Wanda sounded from her place in the kitchen.

"Why thank you, Wanda! I knew I could always count on you." You smiled, lifting your head to look at her.

She placed a plate down in front of you, a full steaming hot breakfast she made herself. "Eat up, I know a certain someone kept you up late. Figured you could use some TLC this morning."

"I could kiss you on the mouth." You exclaimed, genuinely so happy to receive such a kind act. "Thank you so much!"

"I mean, I'd accept but I don't think I could take Steve down by myself." She playfully winked at you. "How are they all doing?"

"Not great." You confessed honestly. "They're all exhausted and in low spirits."

"I talked to Tony this morning, seems like they're going to be home in the middle of the night tonight." Clint told you.

Your head snapped over to the status screen, and he was right. All of their statues changed from deployed to estimated time of arrival at 1:45am.

"Well that's good news, yeah?" Wanda smiled.

"They're going to be in bad shape when they get back. I bet they're all going to be in bad moods for at least three days minimum." Clint said.

"I mean, I would be too." Wanda empathized.

"They're just going to need some love and care when they get back. Be gentle with them." You reminded them.

"That's easy for you to say when it's your boyfriend, I can't really imagine myself being kind and gentle to Bucky or Tony." Clint visibly shuttered.

"You don't have to be romantically involved with someone to be kind." You rolled your eyes. "You know what? Maybe it's best you avoid them all together. I'll welcome them back tonight, try to do something nice for them."

"Great cause I'll be sleeping!" Clint shouted as he walked off and out of your shared living space.

"Does he irritate you the same way he irritates me?" You asked Wanda knowing damn well he could still hear you.

She laughed and brought her hand to her mouth to try and cover the evidence. "Let me know if you need any help tonight."

You spent the rest of your day preparing to make sure they had the smoothest arrival possible, but you really wanted to make it extra special for Steve who seemed to really be struggling more than usual.

After going to the store to grab some stuff to make them a big meal to come home to, you put all of Steve's bedding in the wash and used your soap and fabric softener so he would be greeting with his favorite thing in the whole world: freshly washed sheets that smelled like you. You bought him his favorite scented candle and a new warm throw blanket, tidied up all the adorable little knickknacks he had around his room, vacuumed his rug and made his bed. It was a little hard to clean for someone who was already so tidy to begin with, but you know he appreciated the little things.

You even laid out his favorite hoodie and sweatpants to wear after a shower so he wouldn't even have to think about what to sleep in on such a cold night in the city.

Once everything was perfect and you got confirmation that they were only about an hour away from home, you cooked them a big comforting meal and baked them brownies.

Sometimes the best way to support each other was by making sure home felt warm when they arrived, so that's what you did.

Once dinner was done and the brownies were baked to gooey perfection, you used the rest of the time you had by tiding up the kitchen and the living room.

You knew there was a chance they wouldn't want to eat, talk, or even stay in the living room longer than the time it took to get to their bedroom doors, but you wanted to be prepared just in case.

The sound of an engine outside alerted you that they had landed, and when you leaned up against the door to greet them as they walked down the hall, it was worse than you imagined.

All of their eyes were glued to the floor and they could barely pick up their feet. There were no smiles as they spotted you welcoming them home, but that's okay because you could smile for them.

There was radio silence as you hugged them all, that wasn't the plan but they all stuck their arms out for one, so who were you to deny them? It was like they were on auto pilot, receiving hugs one by one in a single file line before entering their living space. The line ended with the Captain, and he didn't hesitate to hug you so close your feet lifted up off the floor.

Shield still attached to his back, helmet on his head, he didn't care about getting comfortable at the moment. All he cared about was being with you again after such a long time apart. You were all the comfort he needed.

You shuffled out of his arms and took his hand, leading him into the living room. Once you guys made it, you could tell he didn't want to talk. He didn't want to do or say anything, it was like he was just an empty shell. So you sat him down on a stool as the others settled and detached the shield from his back before setting it down on the floor and propping it up against the wall. Your fingers unclasped the buckle of his helmet and your palms slowly pulled it off his head.

He took it from your hands and carelessly tossed it on the floor before pulling you back into a hug. With you standing in front of his sitting position, it allowed you to press a kiss to his forehead as he hid his head in the safety of your sternum. His arms were wrapped around you so lazily that they were just barely staying up, resting right on your lower back above your butt.

Bucky, Sam, Nat and Tony were already scarfing down food around you guys, yet Steve was hiding away. All of them were silent, but no words needed to be exchanged for you to know that they were grateful for taking care of them. 

"So happy you're home, sweet boy." You whispered, letting your chin rest on top of his head. "Glad you're back here, safe and sound." He nodded in acknowledgment, and you could feel him kiss your sweatshirt covered sternum. After a few more moments, you moved your hands from his back to right onto his cheeks. You gently lifted his head so you could look at him. "How are you?"

"I'll be okay" Steve whispered with a raspy voice that did nothing to hide his state of emotion. His eyes were swollen with exhaustion, and his brain was foggy and occupied by whatever they had all just gone through. Everyone else seemed to be in their own trance as they ate.

"Well I know you'll be okay, but how are you right now? What do you need?" You pushed, desperately wanting to mend the pieces of a bad mission.

"I missed you so much" he pouted, feeling like he couldn't find the words to express what he needed to feel better. All he wanted was for you to stay with him, so close he could touch you at any given moment. He wanted to be held and cuddled and kissed until the thoughts of how terrible this world could be melted out of his brain.

But alas, he was never great at expressing any of his needs. Even asking for a glass of water felt like too much sometimes, but asking for your time, personal space, and vulnerability made his heart race with anxiety. That wasn't your fault, you were his angel, and if he said the words you would hold him though every sunrise and sunset until he felt like himself again. He knew that more than anyone, yet it was his own brain that was keeping what he really needed locked away in a tightly sealed box.

"I missed you too." You admitted and reassured. It was pretty easy to see the internal conflict happening in his head, you knew at that point you weren't going to get the answer you wanted, and that was okay. He probably didn't know what he needed yet. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving" He nodded.

"Sleepy?" You asked but you already knew the answer. Your hands dropped from his face down to his shoulders, giving them gentle rubs and firm squeezes in attempts to relax him.

"Exhausted." His body was melting under your touch giving you a good hint that he just wanted to go to bed.

"Okay" You acknowledged, forming a plan in your head. "How about while you eat I'll get the shower all nice and warm for you so we can get you in bed faster?"

His eyes slowly closed as he took a deep breath. "I don't even think I can stand long enough to shower."

"How about a bath?" You suggested.

"Don't wanna leave you that long" The pout returned.

"I'll stay with you." You reassured him. "It can be quick, I just know that you feel gross if you don't shower when you get home. I think it'll make you feel a lot better."

"You'll stay with me?" The inner corners of his eyebrows turned upwards in the sweetest expression, it was as if you had just offered him the whole world.

"Of course." You grinned, leaving another kiss to his forehead. "Let's get some food in your belly."

You made him a plate and left him to eat while you got a nice, hot bath going. You put in his favorite lavender scented bath salts to help recover his muscles and before you even thought it was humanly possible, he was right back with you in the spacious bathroom.

"It's been like four minutes, did you even eat?" You giggled.

He had already kicked off his boots and was working on taking off the top of his suit, and when he did he proudly patted his bare and bloated stomach.

"It's all in here, see?" He poked the center of his tummy again to emphasize that he did in fact eat.

You couldn't help but to giggle at the sight, it was equal parts endearing and adorable that he was so proud of his food baby, something most people would feel shameful for. His constant outlook on life had been rubbing off on you- Steve was just so contagious and infectious. "So cute, baby." You smiled.

Steve felt his heart melt, he missed the way your nose crinkled when you had a genuine smile smeared across your beautiful face.

"I hope the temperature is okay, I dunno, I usually like the water really hot. Oh! And maybe I added too many bubbles?" Contemplation took over your brain as he continued undressing.

Steve quickly got in and sank into the perfect temperature water with just enough bubbles. He let out a big shaky breath that he had been holding in as he sat down in attempts to not make his pain so obvious. It didn't work. "S'perfect." He mumbled as the back of his head leaned back onto the edge of the tub, eyes closing. "Thank you."

"Mhm" You acknowledged, trying to keep your energy level down and calm in attempts to not overwhelm him.

Walking over, you sat on the very spacious end of the tub where his head was barely comfortable and half his bare shoulders were hanging out. Being gentle as possible since he wasn't telling you what hurt him or where, you sat as close as you could to him allowing his head to rest against your stomach and your one of your hands held onto his shoulder while the other one cradled his head.

He lifted his hands out of the water to try and hold onto you too, but you saw the moment of realization that his actions would result in you getting really soggy really quick.

"It's okay, just relax." You whispered, fingers running through his short hair. "Do you want to talk about what happened, or do you just want to get it out of your mind for a while?"

"I still don't fully understand what I'm feeling right now." He admitted, voice soft and dripping with what felt like apology. "I'll let you know when I figure that out."

"Deal" You let him settle further into you. There were no words to properly explain the warmth you ignited deep in his brain and body when you held him like this and cared so deeply about the way he felt. Sometimes that feeling got so overwhelming he had to work hard to keep himself from releasing some healing tears. There were so many times in his life when he thought a relationship with anyone who cared about him as deeply as you did was no longer in the cards for him. "I know sometimes it can be hard to ease your mind after a long mission, so stay here for as long as you need to in order to feel safe again, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

You sealed those words with a kiss to the crown of his head, and only then did he let all his muscles ease. He was thankful for you supporting the weight of his head, and for understanding what he needed even though he didn't vocalize it. He was thankful for the best meal he had in a while waiting for him when he got home, he was thankful for brownies and a warm welcome. He was thankful for you.

Sweet, perfect you.

His girl, who was very carefully washing his shoulders and upper body that didn't quite fit in the warm, lavender scented water so he wouldn't even have to think as hard while already solving a rubix cube of emotions.

The two of you stayed there for a while, passing time was a concept happily forgotten. At one point you couldn't even tell if he was awake or not, but it didn't stop you from occasionally leaning over just to kiss his face or giving his upper body a gentle squeeze just to let him know that he continued to occupy your brain and attention.

The water inevitably went cold and he was still out like a light. Your conscious had a long debate on which was less ethical- waking him up or letting him stay in a bathtub full of cold water. Eventually, you brain came to a decision. Whispering his name into his ear earned you a grin and a little giggle. He wasn't even sleeping, just really comfortable and too lazy to move.

Eventually you managed getting the two of you into his bed where he immediately brought the blankets straight to his nose and deeply inhaled of his favorite smells in the world.

You couldn't even help your laugh as you got in next to him, his arms were quick to let go of the blankets and trap you against his body in his strong arms.

"Thank you" His lips mumbled against your forehead. "For everything."

"Of course." you grinned, getting cozy in his hold.

"No one has ever cared for me the way you do, I've never felt like this before." The words spilled out of his mouth in a moment of sleep deprived vulnerability.

"You deserve to be cared for the same way you care for everyone else." You reminded him. "You dedicated your life to saving others, I think this is the least of what you should be receiving in return."

"I didn't choose what we do for anything in return." He corrected.

"None of us did. What we do is hard and scary and traumatic. It's important that we show up for each other when needed, we all need to be taken care of. Even you, honey."

"Too stubborn for that" You could hear the smile in his tired voice.

"I know you are" you laughed softly, slipping your hand up the back of his shirt to feel his warm skin. "But you're learning and getting better at receiving, and that makes me so happy. I love being able to take care of you."

"Mmmmm" he let out a noise of contentment with more-than subtle tones of more-than slight embarrassment. Three little words were stuck on the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say them so bad but the thought of how they would be received was terrifying. He shoved his face into his pillow and held you impossibly closer.

He felt comforted knowing that those words meant nothing without actions to prove you meant it. Although the two of you have never exchanged verbal affirmations of love, he was content without them.

Steve knew you loved him. You showed him that every single day in more ways than one. His beautiful girl walked around with a red, white and blue bracelet on every single day, you saw him with kind eyes and an open heart, you touched him with gentle hands and welcoming arms, and truly heard everything he had to say. I mean, you literally would sit with him at any hour of the day and listen to what he had to say for hours on end. In moments like this, he could only hope you felt his love regardless of his personal fear of saying those three words to you.

"Turn your brain off, get some sleep." You told him, obviously tired yourself. "Wake me up if you need me, okay?"

"Okay." He kissed you get again. "Goodnight, my angel."

"Sweet dreams."

Steve fell asleep no problem, slept the night away like a champ, and when it was time to wake up, he did. He woke up equal parts starving and exhausted. That same pout he came home with last night prevailed, so the two of you scarfed down a big breakfast.

He didn't let you even think about starting dishes before picking you up and putting you on the couch. He set you down right in the very corner with your legs out on the sectional, he tucked you in nice and tight before handing you the TV remote and your book for entertainment before he laid down with his own blanket, his head in your lap, and his legs taking up half the biggest couch you've ever seen.

Steve tossed the blanket over his body, used your soft thighs as a pillow, and shoved his face into your lower stomach to block out the light. You turned on Steve's favorite show, which was Bob's Burgers for some reason, and massaged his scalp.

Five episodes in, still mindlessly playing with the golden locks of hair in your lap, Tony walked through the common area, obviously just arriving from his home in Malibu.

He set his keys and phone down on the island, took some casual strides towards his newest recruit with the oldest lump in the building unconscious in your hold.

"What's wrong with this guy?" Tony asked, taking no initiative to even to use a lower volume voice as to not wake up the soldier.

"Did you fly all the way to California last night just to fly all the way back to New York this morning?" You redirected him, not wanting to admit to Steve's state of being just to save him some embarrassment later.

"I've known this man for almost a decade and I've never seen him sleeping before." Tony completely ignored you.

"Cute, isn't it?" You questioned rhetorically. "The earth is dying by the way, you really should be cutting down on your private fli-"

"Renewable energy, do you not know me?" He silenced you. "What's up with sleeping beauty?"

"He's tired, I think that's pretty obvious, Mr Genius." You lifted Steve's blanket over his shoulder, feeling protective of him.

"I think it's more than that" Tony double tapped his arc reactor, causing his suit to form around his body creating the loudest noise.

"Anthony of you wake him up..."

"You have him whipped" He stated through the mask.

"Why did you suit up?"

"Made some adjustments, fixed some damage. Looks nice huh?" He showed off. "He keeps a picture of you with him in his suit, did you know that? It's disgusting. All three weeks he was fighting harder than I've ever seen, only ever stopped to catch his breath and look at your photo. Makes me sick to my stomach."

"Leave him alone" You gently warned. "Don't you have better things to do than constantly make fun of him?"

"No" he said bluntly. "I should've known you two would be playing stuffin' the muffin way before I even hired you. Vanilla is complementary of dark chocolate and caramel. I should've seen it coming from a mile away." He shook his head.

"Anyway you can turn down the volume on that thing?"

"Yeah but I'm choosing not to" He said louder. "PEACE OUT, I HAVE SHIT TO DO." he shouted as he exited the room.

You signed in annoyance and looked down at Steve, still playing with his hair.

"He's so annoying." Steve complained so sleepily you almost didn't hear him.

"I know, I'm sorry." You pouted, looking down at all the different pretty shades of blonde and brown as they traveled through the open spaces between your fingers. "I'll beat him up for you later."

"Promise?" He lifted his face out of its hiding spot against your belly, his tired eyes and pink cheeks made you smile.

"Even if it gets me fired." You nodded.

"Don't get fired, I like having you here"

"I'll try" you grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, tired. Three weeks is too long."

"Go back to sleep, baby." You suggested empathetically, you knew it took a lot to get him tired. He deserved all the rest he could get, even if that meant you were trapped underneath him all day.

"S'okay. I've already slept too much, miss you too much to sleep more." He explained, slowly sitting up and cuddling into your side. Your legs tangled with his, and his arm slumped around your shoulders. "I wanna hear all about what you've been up to, pretty girl."

"Nothing much" You let your head lean onto his shoulder while your hands stayed occupied by playing with his fingers. "Worked, saw some friends, got dinner with my cousin and her husband and daughter."

"Did you have fun?" He asked lazily.

"Mhm" you nodded.

He hummed quietly in acknowledgement before letting his head rest on top of yours. You could tell he was enjoying the physical touch, but his mind seemed distant and occupied.

"Seems like you got a lot on your mind." You gently squeezed his hand.

"Yeah" he whispered. "It was mentally exhausting, I had too much time to think."

"Are you sad?" The question was genuine, you really couldn't grasp what was happening in his head.

"A little, but also happy." He confirmed. "You know, for the first time ever I felt like I had a reason to come home? It felt like everything was on the line, and even though it was a bad mission, I've been on far worse and have felt far less. Knowing you were waiting for me gave me a reason to get home safe, and that made me the happiest man in the whole world, but at the same time, I almost feel grief for all the times I felt like I could risk everything because I didn't have a person or place that felt like home to return to."

You knew that sometimes he struggled to convey they way he really felt through words alone, so you could imagine that those words were only brushed the surface of the vastly deep ocean of complex emotions over lost time in his brain. So whenever he tried to explain, you always put in your best effort to listen. Really, truly listen to what he had to say.

"None of that time was lost, you know that right?" You reminded him. "You've always made brave and selfless choices, you've saved billions of lives because of that. It was still time well spent."

"Things are just different now, and that's okay, it's just that whenever I get something I've always wanted, I can't help but to feel a little sad that a past version of myself had to go so long without it." He continued trying to verbalize his emotional war. "So yeah, I'm a little sad, but at the same time, I'm very, very happy because I have you, and you're everything I've ever wanted. I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Steve's words tugged dangerously hard on your heartstrings, you wanted to cry for him. Whenever he would open up to you, you felt a whole rollercoaster of being happy for him, but knowing that through the whole journey of his complex life he always deserved better.

You twisted your body just to be able to give him a proper hug and hold him in your arms. "I'm the lucky one here."

"Impossible." He whispered.

"I love you" You admitted.

The three words fell out of your mouth so easily that Steve doubted why he was ever so scared to speak then in the first place. They were the words you knew he needed to hear, the words that have been stuck to his tongue for months now. You were braver than he ever was.

He lifted his head to look at your face, you were sure of yourself. The love was confident, set in stone on a one way street. Much like how beads of water would never run upwards on a sheet of glass, once you spoke those words there was no way of taking them back. You squeezed them out of a tube of toothpaste, you sprayed them out of a bottle of perfume, you lit them like a candle.

His big blue puppy dog eyes confirmed your suspicions as he cradled your face and left a kiss worth a thousand words on your lips. He loved you too. Of course he did. You never doubted that.

"I love you too" He spoke against your lips. You got to hear those pretty little words, feel them, and taste them when he kissed you once more. "I really, really mean it."

"I know you do, I feel it every single day, and I could only hope that you feel just as loved as you've always deserved to be." You kiss your favorite spot right between his eyes. "We're always going to have someone to fight for and come home to. You have that now, you'll always have that."

Once more, his face found its way to the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath to try and recollect himself, convince his brain to put down all the worries it's been carrying the weight of. But when he got a big inhale of your sweet skin and cucumber green tea body wash, he had no choice but to feel safe and comforted.

When he was with you, home.

Next: Taste

Coming soon

#fic rec #captain america fluff #steve rogers x reader

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this was absolutely so fuckin cute 🥹❤️

Darkness

Avengers x reader

Request: hihihi i loved your fic about a sleepy cuddly yn, could you do another? im not sure if your taking requests so feel free to ignore this. if you do write this, could you like make it like yn is scared of the dark and the power goes out? and if you include protective! Avengers i will die for you lot’s of love the ✨ anon

You were tough.

You were feared, you had made a name for yourself.

You were an avenger.

That’s what ran through your head before you squeaked a curse word when you saw out of your apartment window. One building, then the next, the power was shut down and everything outside turned to darkness. And then your apartment complex did the same.

You made a noise in the back of your throat that seemed like a mix between a groan and a shrill for help as you fumbled out of your cocoon of blankets. So much fora night in with Netflix. And scrambled out of your room to find the kitchen.

That’s where you kept the candles and emergency lighters and matches.

You were tough.

You were feared, you had made a name for yourself.

You were an avenger.

“Barely.”

You gasped and spun around in your fuzzy socks, beyond scared, only to be met with Clint and Nat holding flashlights and matching smirks.

“Barely an avenger.” Clint repeated amused that you were still clutching to the box of matches for dear life.

“Excuse me, I am an avenger- more than barely.” You pouted and stressed over trying to find a candle now. Natasha shined her flashlight to the left pointing at a used candle on the counter.

“Yeah, remember what happened in Rio.” Natasha snickered and Clint turned pink.

“We all agreed to never speak about that-” he about whined causing your fear of the dark to subsided a little so you could tease.

“Never speak about what?” Sam asked just as he, Steve, and Bucky strolled in with some more candles.

“Nothing!” “Rio!” Was said at the same time and eyebrows were raised in amusement by Cap.

The boys lit up the candles they had and placed them in certain areas causing your small living room and kitchen to light up your place better. Your fear was decreasing even more now that you weren’t in complete darkness and alone.

“It seems that the whole city is out of power,” Wanda’s thick accent sounded as she slowly sauntered in with Vision. You didn’t have to wait long before you saw a blue streak and you were suddenly sitting on the kitchen counter with a smirking Pietro.

“We brought snacks,” Vision said referring to the clear boxes of sweets in Pietro’s hands.

You sat on the counter in amusement as your friends made themselves at home in your apartment while the city laid in darkness.

All of them found their own little spot to rest in as they bantered back and forth as if your home was their’s. They had eased your mind and even had you distracted from your fear of how long your apartment maybe in darkness.

“Not that I don’t appreciate y’all being here, but, you guys have great timing showing up at my place right before the lights went out.” You said and a few heads turned to you.

“Well the light went out in our place first,” Cap said referring to the place he shared with Buck and Sam.

“And we know you aren’t fond of the dark,” Wanda said quietly.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Clint shrugged before taking another bite of cheese pizza. You heart melted and pouted at your friends with love.

Before you could say anything though, the lights flickered on and you could hear some cheering from outside neighbors.

That’s when Tony and Peter came in through the front door. Tony pushing Peter in front of him.

Peter blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Peter-”

“I may or may not have messed with Mr. Stark’s new AI…”

Peter caused the black out.

A pillow was thrown and Peter ducked, causing the pillow to hit Tony in the face.

“You’re paying for the next round of pizza.” Clint said making Peter look at Tony for help.

Tony sighed, “it’ll be here in 20.”

- - -

Thank you for enjoying the first cuddly fic of reader x avengers, it was my first one I ever created on here.  Rainy Days

I hope that you like this one. Just wanted to make something cute and short!

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this made my heart ache in the best possible way 🥹 the way your able to write coziness so well is astounding and magical 💞

warmth- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: hydra, another headcanon that makes me so unbelievably sad i cannot hug bucky barnes about: request! it's really cold one night and Bucky tries to Soldier through it but reader finds him and wraps him up in blankets and holds him to sleep and he just feels so safe and warm and it's just very soft and good. a/n: thank you for everyone who gave me warm synonyms!! true heroes

your apartment hits you like sunlight when you open the door, dissolving the horripilation risen on your arms with the power of the heater, thawing verglas frosted over your nose.

you’d demanded it after the highs of your cheeks met the chill outside your door, already wet with sticky snowflakes and numb with the ice of the wind. you told bucky as such when snow crunched underneath your boots in your haste to get to the car, grasping his hand when you nearly slipped. he had huffed a stifled laugh, pulled you to your feet, and shoved your hand alongside his in his pocket, warm fingers beginning to draw heat on the dips of your knuckles.

you return with a dramatic sigh and a promise to bake the cookie dough in the fridge, closing the door after bucky enters with bags of takeout swinging from vibranium fingers. he’s quieter than usual, extending his fingers like a starfish after he sets down the food, joints aching as he rolls his ankle. he doesn’t take off his coat when he comes in.

you spare him a concerned glance from the kitchen as you push down on the frigid dough, skin pale from the cloud of flour that sheens your face and leopard-patterns your eyelashes. “bucky?”

his attention snaps to you a beat late, something distant in his eyes that washes away with a blink and a clear of his throat. “yeah? do you need help?”

“no,” you reply, about to press when he’s striding over to you after he washes his hands, slipping off his jacket and draping it over the couch. “honey—”

he pushes the tip of his ring finger into the ball of dough beneath your hands, raising an eyebrow at you when resistance forms spiderweb-cracks around it. “let me help.”

you purse your lips before you give in, watching his face carefully as refrigerator-cold dough meets snow-cold goosebumps. there’s a twist that makes you frown, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with an easy smile as he pinches off a piece and pops it in his mouth. 

“bucky!” you chastise, swatting his hand when he reaches for another.

“it tastes better like this!” he insists.

“the whole point of the cookies is to warm up the house and have something hot to eat!”

“fine, fine,” he gives in. “but just one more little piece.” you glare at him but let him tear more off before you press heart molds into sticky, extended dough.

it smells sweet and nearly summery by the time you settle in to go to sleep, feet clad in fluffy socks and bed stocked with more blankets than usual. you murmur a goodnight into bucky’s shoulder and let your eyes flutter shut, expecting his breathing to ease and steady like usual, but it never does.

you’re half-asleep when you feel the bed dip from next to you, low growls from the depths of bucky’s throat echoing in the silence of the room. a floorboard creaks beneath his weight and a door opens.

you frown when you notice it’s the one to the living room, rubbing the base of your palm against your eyes before you squint against the yellow light peeking through the bottom of the door, interrupting the darkness.

with a yawn and a sleepy stumble, you push open the door to see bucky staring down at a cabinet, his face contorted in something you don’t see often in the comforts of your home, medicine rattling in bottles and boxes as he searches for something.

“bucky?” you call.

he freezes, turning around with an apologetic smile, looking much more alert than you are. he hadn’t slept at all. “did i wake you? i’m sorry.”

“‘s okay. what’re you doing?”

something crosses his face like hesitation before he answers. “looking for pain relievers.”

your eyebrows knit in worry. “you’re in pain?”

“fuckin’ serum… healed bones wrong. ‘feels like they’re… rubbing against each other when i move.” something like a growl escapes him as he bridges a thumb over his index and stretches it. his leg shifts and he grimaces. you stride over to him to take his hand into yours, but gasp when his skin is ice to the pads of your fingers.

“you’re freezing, bucky.”

the lines of his face set. “it’s nothing. i’ve been colder.”

you frown. sandwiching his hands between yours, you tuck your fingers in between the crevices of his and blow warm air on the fingers you couldn’t cover. vibranium remains unchanged at your lips, but you persist.

“why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”

“it’s not a type of cold that goes away easily,” he replies. the resolute expression on his face makes your heart drop.

you think for a second before nodding, squeezing flesh fingers with one hand as you lead him back to the bedroom. he calls your name in confusion when you sit him down, scrounging around in your drawer. you offer him medicine for pain before padding off to the closet. he watches dazedly, tablet still sitting in his vibranium palm.

“that’s the best we have. steve said it helped when it ached,” you say, pulling out blankets upon blankets from the closet.

he raises an eyebrow as you begin to unfold them and spread them over the bed, a few in your arms when you turn toward him. he pops the pill into his mouth and swallows it down with the water from the bottle at his bedside table when you glance pointedly at him.

“here,” you mumble, glancing at his face to catch his expression as you wrap a blanket around his shoulders. you rub your hands up and down his arms with quick motions and press a kiss to his head before grabbing another.

“sweetheart—”

“are you warmer?”

he pauses as he realizes he is. you smile gently, teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip as you swaddle him in another blanket. you turn off the lights and settle into bed as well, hugging him close. you pull the covers over the both of you and he begins to laugh. the sound is heat in itself, like ice is thawing from his chest, allowing something genuine and sunny to mold his face. “i’m gonna overheat here, doll.”

“you’ll be fine,” you murmur, brushing your lips over his forehead. “hands,” you order, extending yours in an invitation. obediently, he gives them to you, a little restrained from the blankets around him. you lead them underneath your shirt, where you press them against your abdomen. you shiver as their rime meets soft skin, but hold steady. he can’t help but marvel as his fingers crawl around your waist to hold you closer.

“d’you feel better?” you ask after a moment, when he’s flushed and a little fuzzy from the love you treat him with.

“yeah,” he responds honestly. “thank you.”

he feels the curve of your lips against his hair. “‘f course.”

he thinks winter won’t be so bad with you swaddling him in blankets.

#bucky barnes #fic rec #bucky barnes x reader

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

DNI W THIS BLOG THEY PLAGIARIZED @allandoflimbo

And they’re now thinking of opening a kofi to financially benefit from the work they STOLE from someone else. This is truly unhinged behavior-

That’s all for awhile until I start more on Broken Wishes. Let me know your reviews! I might be doing a kofi soon, too! 😊😊

#plagarism

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Requiem ꕥ O/S

〚 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 〛〚 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 〛

STARRING — Captain Hook!Bucky Barnes x Fairy F!Reader

SUMMARY — A fairy without her wings and a captain without his crew — two misfits manage to find each other in the cruel dark world that is Neverland.

CONTENTS — Peter Pan AU, dark Neverland vibes, angst, fluff, allusions to death and murder

W/C — approx. 2.7k

The forest is a cold and desolate place at night. During the day, when the sun is shining, Neverland is breathtaking. But that's part of the trap, you see... and once you fall in, you can never leave.

Peter Pan won't let you. The boy who never grows up continues to float in the inky sky above you, unmoved by the fact that you've been cast aside by your own kind. You would almost find him beautiful, flying amongst the stars, a trail of fairy dust trickling behind him, if you didn't know him for who he really is.

The only thing that saves you from his sinister motives is, despite your lack of wings, you are still a fairy. Tinker Bell made a pact with him all those centuries ago; she will help him take as many lost children as he wants‚ but her family, her species, is off limits.

A part of you believes Pan really does love Tink in some sick and twisted way. It's why he's kept his promise so far, even as his eyes find you on the forest floor. You think you see a flash of sympathy in Tink's eyes as they fly overhead, and shame, red hot and suffocating, spreads through your veins like wildfire.

You curl up into a ball as small as you can, hoping it will provide some relief from the chill. Despite the painful memories, you remember home. It is never cold in the kingdom of fairies, only ever sunshine and blooming flowers. You were supposed to come of age at twenty years old, sprouting wings, finding a mate, and taking flight. So, you watched year after year as the people you thought were your friends leave you behind, their colourful wings sparkling in the sunlight.

You reached twenty-five, and still nothing. Soon, the taunting began. There hadn't been a wingless fairy in existence in over a century; the children called you a freak, the adults shook their heads in shame; some of them pitied you, others were disgusted by you. You turned to your parents, hoping they would still love you despite your differences.

You had been wrong. Your mother, at the very least, tried not to let it show, that she was ashamed of you. But perhaps that was worse, knowing that she was trying to love you despite it all but couldn't quite manage it.

Late in the night, you had left the only place you had ever known and loved. You took nothing with you. Perhaps you would die in the forest, surrounded by plants and flowers, underneath the winking stars. You close your eyes, still shivering, thinking that it wasn't such a terrible way to go.

There are fates much worse, after all.

He had woken you up maybe minutes, maybe hours, after you had fallen asleep. When you opened your eyes, he didn't smile, didn't speak. Instead, he open his palm and placed it face-up on the dirt right next to you. When you didn't move, he gingerly picked you up with two fingers, despite your struggling, and dropped you into his open hand.

You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you. Warmth. He was so warm. You curled up on the rough skin of his hand, falling asleep once more until you woke up again in the morning aboard a ship. He had placed you on the wooden table in his bedroom, a handkerchief draped over you as a makeshift blanket. You could see him outside the doorway, telescope stretched out over one eye, as he searched over the horizon. It was only in the morning light that you realized he only had one arm, that you realized who he was.

They call him Captain Hook.

Tales of a villainous pirate had reached your kingdom long ago. You had heard of him. You never thought you would meet him, or that he would save your life.

For the first few weeks he refuses to speak to you. You would pester him with questions. Why would he save you if he didn't want to be friends? You didn’t have any friends back home, not anymore. You would like to know what true friendship looks like before you die.

How come he leaves the candle lit all night for you, even though it disturbs his sleep? Sometimes, after some considerable effort, you blow out the flame just to see what would happen. He calms after this, stops tossing and turning, as if he’s more comfortable in the darkness. Hidden. Obscured. Safe.

Where was his crew? There are signs that people have been here. Markings on the walls, drawings on old bits of parchment that were haphazardly hidden between the pages of a book, a hairbrush with long strands of red hair tangled in the bristles.

Unable to fly, you don’t venture far from the Captain’s quarters, unless you grab onto his sleeve as he passes by. He would tut at you as he felt your weight on his shoulder, but he would allow you to sit there for as long as you liked. Sometimes you would just sing to yourself, old songs your mother used to sing to you. Sometimes you would watch the sun set over the horizon. You play with the chain of a necklace that rests around his neck, tugging at it out of curiosity to reveal a set of tags with names on them. Steve. Sam. Sharon. Joaquin. Tony. Natasha. It is the last one that has you reeling in shock.

Peter.

“Peter? Peter Pan?” James reaches up to grab you off his shoulder then and marches back to his quarters to practically toss you down onto the wooden table. You tumble out of his grasp, surprised at his suddenly harsh treatment. Your heart plummets to your stomach when he takes a glass jar and places it upside down on top of you, rendering you trapped. You cry for hours until he finally sets you free, something akin to shame and guilt in his eyes.

When you don’t forgive him for days, because he hasn’t even so much as asked for your forgiveness, he takes you out of the ship and out onto the beach where he’s docked. He places you gently onto the warm sand, and your anger is temporarily forgotten as you roll around in it, shrieking with laughter as you run and frolic, as the waves come up and lap at your feet.

You had never been to the ocean before, you tell him. He doesn’t speak as he picks up a pretty pink shell and gives it to you. You hold it above your head on shaky arms in what you hope is a display of strength, and you swear you see the smallest hints of a smile on his face. You run around with it held above you, waving it back and forth and relishing at how the air suddenly cools when you’re underneath it. When he takes you back to the ship, you lie right next to it, smiling at the way it sparkles and shines, at how you can still hear the sounds of the ocean as you fall asleep beside it.

You finally find the courage to ask one day. Why does Peter Pan hate him so much? He still doesn’t answer you, but he doesn’t get angry this time. Instead, he looks at you with sad eyes. You decide not to ask anymore, because his pain is now your own. You lay down on the fingers of his flesh hand as he grips the edge of the ship, closing your eyes when you feel his knuckle-white grip loosen.

How did he lose his arm? Another touchy subject, but you’ve always been a curious little bird. He doesn’t seem to mind, but he still doesn’t answer. It’s okay, you tell yourself. You will speak for the both of you. He moves to take his false arm, the one with a hook for a hand, away from you, but you leap onto it, wrapping your arms around it as best as you can. Your arms don’t even reach halfway around him, and he gazes down at you in what you believe is shock. You fall asleep there that night, waking up to the sight of his face in front of you, having fallen asleep himself at the table, evidently not wanting to wake you.

Who is Steve? You hear the name sometimes in his sleep. It is one of the names on his necklace. It is the name signed onto the drawings that litter the ship. Drawings of flowers, trees, the sunset, the ocean, of him, of your captain.

What is his name? It is this question that finally allows you to hear his voice. As you gaze at him, instead of the evil, instead of the sin you had always heard about in those tales about him, you see only yourself in his steel blue eyes. You see your own loneliness and longing reflected in them, and you know then that the tales are untrue. You never hope to leave the ship. You have nowhere else to go, after all. But the real reason you stay is because there is warmth here, a kind of warmth you've never felt, even before you were an outcast.

"James." He finally answers. His voice melts into your skin, seeps into your veins, and travels straight to your heart.

Magic has eluded you for years. You thought it had forsaken you. You thought it had deemed you unworthy. Turns out, magic came to you in the form of a lonely captain on a deserted ship, himself nothing but a lost soul.

They call him Captain Hook.

You would only ever call him James.

James would never tell you that finding you on that forest floor is what saved his life. He would later learn what you are, but even without fairy wings you remain the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in Neverland. For a moment he thought he had been hallucinating. There is no way a cursed being like him would find a solace like you after centuries of sorrow. It must be a trick. You couldn’t be real.

But then you had opened your eyes and the rest was history. James knew he needed to protect you, then. Although, if he were really being honest with him, he wasn’t doing it solely for you. The last time he had allowed himself to care, to love, Pan had taken everything from him. But you are off limits. Pan is not allowed to hurt you, not unless he wants to hurt the only person who’s ever been loyal to him for as long as she has been.

It has been a very long time, and Pan is no longer the Peter that James remembers and loves, but there are still pieces of Peter in there somewhere, the traces of a boy who loved just as fiercely as he wanted to be loved in return. It is why no matter how hard he tries, James cannot bring himself to end the tyranny. Because to kill Peter Pan would be to kill the boy he used to be, it would mean killing Peter Parker—the very last of James’ crew.

And if James had walked away from you that night, then he could bid what remained of the already shattered remnants of his soul goodbye. You are a tiny little thing, but somehow you already take up more room in his life than anything else had in years.

“Why did you save me if you didn’t want to be friends?” You ask him one day, sitting at the table in his quarters, tiny legs dangling off the edge. You kick them underneath you innocently, eyes hopeful as you ask the question. He does want to be friends. How could he not, when you’re so sweet? He doesn’t want to be friends. How could he, when he also hopes for something more?

“How come you leave the candle lit all night for me, even though it disturbs your sleep?” He thinks you might be cold in the night, but also, even before you, sleep had been the one to disturb him. Most nights it eludes him, but when it does come, it is almost never peaceful.

“Where is your crew?” All of them are dead. Except one. Rage floods into him when you find the tags with their names engraved on them. It has been a very long time since he’s had to share space with another living being, and sometimes he forgets how delicate you are. His anger lashes out then and he cruelly traps you underneath a jar, hating himself for it when he hears you crying and sobbing. Your little hands bang—tinkle—against the glass, begging him to let you out.

You withdraw after that. He wants to say sorry. He wants to tell you that he will never do it again, because you’re his little fairy, and he will cut off his other hand if it would make you believe him. He just doesn’t know how. He cannot find the words important enough.

So he takes you to the beach, watches as you play and jump and leap. The happiness that radiates from you when he gifts you with a tiny pink seashell is debilitating. The water splashes at your feet, and when you look up at him, smiling at him, it takes everything for him not to weep. When is the last time he found joy—pure unadulterated joy—in Neverland?

He finds it in your eyes now. James silently vows to do everything to keep it there.

“Why does Peter Pan hate you so much?” Hate is perhaps not the right word, because Pan has never taken the chance to kill James either, even though he’s had plenty of opportunities. But Peter is drunk on power and fairy dust, allowed it to turn him into the tyrant he is today, luring the lost and terrified spirits of children under his spell in a misguided and twisted attempt to build some kind of family.

James might sympathize with him, if it hadn’t turned him into a bully. And James never liked bullies. Neither did the rest of his crew. They fought with him, determined to free Neverland and return it to the utopia it once was. They did not succeed.

“How did you lose your arm?” The stories say it was bitten off by an alligator. But in reality, James had given it up. Peter wanted to know how badly James wanted his friends back. 

I can return them to you, but you can’t have something for nothing. 

James should have known better than to make a deal with the devil, because he never does give you what you wish for.

I never said I would give them back to you alive.

“Who is Steve? I hear you say his name sometimes.” His first mate. His best friend. His brother. James is half-surprised when he has to blink away the tears, disbelieving that the grief he has grown so comfortable with still has the power to bring him down under again. Tiny, stubborn, and hot-headed Steve, who always chose to do the right thing, no matter how hard it would be. James remembers cradling Steve’s small body in his arms, burying him under the sand along with the rest of his friends. He had kissed them all goodbye, clutching at their limp hands as his lips caressed their foreheads, but he would leave a part of his soul with each of them.

“What is your name?” He looks at you then, and centuries of ache compels him to tell you. It is a gift, one’s own name, and to share it with another person is sacred. It is an act so simple, but it forges a bond. When you tell him yours, James craves it—that connection to another living creature he hasn’t had in so many years.

“James.” It is a word he hasn’t spoken in a very long time, and it sounds strange, like it doesn’t even belong to him. But then you repeat it, slowly, once, twice, three times, and he knows that nothing is ever going to be the same. You call to him that night, sounding happy to be able to do it, to say goodnight to him followed by his name.

“Good night, James.” And the fog suddenly lifts. The name that had been so foreign to him suddenly belongs to him again. He remembers James Barnes. He remembers the person he used to be.

He remembers the person he needs to remain.

The End...?

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this was truly so sweet :,)

midnight haircuts- b. barnes

pairings: bucky brnes x reader warnings: hydra trauma, mention of nightmares, past wounds, this absolutely headcanon a lovely requester has about: request! reader cuts bucky’s hair

eyes closed, your fingers dance to bucky’s side of the bed, expecting warm muscle to trail down until they find his own digits. you hum disappointedly when there are only cool sheets, eyes opening hesitantly as fingertips reach the edge of the bed. the darkness is profound when you sit up, silence loud as you struggle to adjust.

enhanced ears catch shaky panting hidden behind walls and caution, and your eyes finally fall to the gleaming sliver at the bottom of the bathroom door, brows furrowing as you push yourself up to your elbows.

“bucky?” you call softly, but there’s no sign of acknowledgment. recalling your boyfriend’s restless movements not too long ago, you inhale sharply, stepping toward the door fast, pressing your ear to the wood, freezing when you catch stifled whimpering. “bucky, honey? is everything alright?”

when there’s no response again, you rap your knuckle gently against the door, unsurprised at the resounding quiet.

“i’m gonna come in, okay?”

you twist the doorknob slowly, blinking blearily when the light of the room spills onto your face. red eyes and shaky fingers greet you, sharp scissors tight in bucky’s grip when he turns toward you, startled.

“sweetheart? bucky, what are you…” it takes a moment for you to comprehend the scene, to take in the streaks down bucky’s face, his hands trembling firecely. long hair loops around his fingers, tugged occasionally in his chattering pants. understanding shatters you immediately, remembering the memories bucky had pushed through wavering lips, and your exhaustion falls away to grim realization.

“i had a…” bucky struggles to speak, a hiccup slicing through his words. he squeezes his eyes shut, grasp tightening on the scissors. they move too close to his face haphazardly as he tries to push air into his lungs. “a nightmare. i just—i need it off, i can’t—” his face crumples.

“okay,” you breathe, cautious in your movements as you reach for the scissors. he lets you take them easily, falling into your hands when you cup his face to wipe his tears. he stutters through a breath. “why don’t we try going in the morning? with someone who knows what they’re doing and—”

bucky shakes his head sternly, shuddering as he calms himself. “no. no, they’ll—they’ll cut me, they’ll—” his eyes shut. “it’ll hurt.”

you examine his face, watch his fingers as they tense and pull at locks of his dark hair. gently, you reach to untangle strands from skin sticky with sweat. “okay.” you nod. “but you’re shaking right now, baby, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

bucky sniffs, finally opening his eyes. “will you do it for me?”

you falter for a second. “i don’t… i don’t really know how to cut hair.”

“please.” the plea is broken, lips pursed as he holds back more tears.

“okay,” you agree. “of course i will.”

bucky nods stiffly, the movement erratic. “you won’t hurt me,” he says. you’re not sure if it’s an assurance to you or himself, but he trusts it anyway, repeating it under his breath. “you won’t hurt me.”

“i won’t,” you reassure, taking a step back to stand behind him, slipping your fingers through the handles of the scissors. bucky’s trust is in your hands, shaky but sure, and you scrounge in your brain for any memories of hair cutting, any videos you’ve watched, or tips you never cared to pay much attention to.

taking a breath, you begin to run your fingers through his hair, gentle, trying to remember the sweet moments when there’s a miscellaneous show on the television and his head is in your lap, attention on the feel of your fingertips. he flinches and you slow your movements, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “are you okay, bucky?”

he pushes out a nod and a deep breath.

“okay. i’m going to start to cut. if it gets to be too much, tell me, okay? i’ll stop.” he confirms quietly, and you split your attention between the hair in the spaces between your fingers and bucky’s expression in the mirror.

you make the first cut delicately, and strands of black flutter to the bathroom floor. bucky’s eyes follow them as they fall, inhaling sharply. “i’m okay,” he forces out.

glancing at reddened eyes, you make another one, combing his hair out afterward. “you’re doing so well, baby.”

another slice of the scissors, and the sound seems to touch something in bucky, chest unmoving as he stares downward. you realize what he’s doing a few snips later. “hey,” you call softly. “it’s okay to cry. you don’t have to hold yourself back.”

you go back to cutting after a moment, a hand sneaking to his shoulder to squeeze gently. he relaxes a fraction against your touch, a tear slipping past his eye.

another cut and bucky sniffles, meeting his reflection. “the clippers are on the… the sink.”

“okay. i’ll get them. you’re doing great, my love.”

the sound of them when you plug them in makes him flinch and his face to screw up, fisting his hand. you shut it off and put it down, dragging your hand down his chest to his. “take my hand,” you instruct gently. he obeys easily, his hold tight. you find his eyes, giving him a small smile. “i’m almost done,” you promise. “i think.”

he grunts out something reminiscent of a laugh, and it makes you smile. you squeeze his hand. “i’m so proud of you, bucky.” with a final squeeze, you detangle your fingers, turning the device on again. bucky’s reaction isn’t as severe this time, but he’s still as a statue when it meets his head. “how’re you doing, honey?”

“okay,” bucky simpers.

“almost done,” you assure, precise in your movements as hair falls. when you move it away and catch his reflection, you’re surprised to realize you’re finished.

“done,” you inform in a breath, relief obvious in its vines around the word. bucky’s shoulders aren’t as strained, and he blinks at himself in the mirror.

“you’re done?” he echoes. distant, surprised.

you offer him a tentative smile and a careful nod, soft steps padding around so you can observe his pretty features pinched. “i’m all done, baby. you did so good.”

“it didn’t hurt,” he says. then, “thank you.”

“i’d never hurt you, honey.”

his eyes finally meet yours. “i know.” a nod, more eager as a hand snaps to his hair, now cropped short, uneven. he offers a crooked smile. it’s shaky, but it’s as beautiful as you’ve seen it. “of course i know.”

you brush hair off of his shoulder, examining his face. saccharine thumbs wipe at wet cheeks. “how are you, bucky?”

“i’m tired,” he admits. “can we go back to bed?”

“yeah.” you offer him your hand, squeezing lightly when he accepts. “c’mon.”

he follows slowly, watching as you lead him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again, examining the movements of trusted fingers as they flick the lights off. the darkness is comforting with your hand in his, rubbing comforting shapes into the dips and ridges of his hands.

you lay him down first, the dark shadows of your face highlighting the radiance of your irises. he reaches for you when you pull the covers over the both of you, and you’re quick to respond, letting him tuck his face in between the crook of your neck.

his sighs are gentle puffs of air against your collarbone, arms tight around you as you run fingers through his newly cropped hair.

“thank you,” he whispers when you’re near sleep, and you brush your lips against his head as if to say you’re welcome.

“anytime, bucky,” you say sleepily. “i’ll learn to cut hair professionally for you, honey.”

bucky’s chuckle is rough-edged and splintered, but it’s enough for a start. he kisses the fragile skin of your neck in gratitude once more before letting himself drift to sleep.

#fic rec #bucky barnes #YOU MADE ME TEAR UP A LIL #JK I TEARED UP A LOT

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

this was so fucking cute what the fuck 😭😩😭

sushi and fun mugs- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson, steve rogers, random ocs and duck variant quack warnings: people misjudging bucky, reader being upset about it, somewhat short about: request! bucky is super quiet and intimidating and everybody is parting like the red sea whenever he's around yet there's *this one agent* who does everything to make him feel included and loved. everybody thinks she's being delusional for trying but, is she?

“how do you think he takes his coffee?”

“black.” genevieve leans back in her chair, lips puckering as she thinks, eyes thinning. “pure black. no milk, no sugar—he probably just chews on the beans.”

you send her a look and ignore her reponse. “i think he’d take it with sugar. lots of it.”

genevieve’s nose wrinkles, meeting your eye in incredulity. “he doesn’t seem like the type to have a sweet tooth,” she tells you. “sugar fuckin’ turns to… like salt or something in his mouth.”

shrugging, you jut out your bottom lip thoughtfully, cocking your head to catch a glimpse of the man in question through the captain’s office window. bucky barnes sits silently at the table, listening to steve as he talks and ignoring the quips sam wilson seems to be making. you see him roll his eyes twice after sam manages a chuckle from steve, not reacting when he’s nudged with a playful elbow.

“i disagree,” you respond finally. “i think he’s plenty sweet.”

steve and sam finish up the conversation with a single word from bucky, beginning to get up and leave the conference room. a moment after they’ve opened the door, bucky parts his lips with a silent sigh and stands as well, turning in time to catch your stare.

you smile at stunning blue beneath tense eyebrows, lifting two fingers in an enthusiastic wave. bucky manages a rigid lilt of his lips back at you.

“see?” you say to genevieve, who sends you a grimace.

“he looks like it’s physically paining him to have to interact with you.”

with a final glare her way, you move away from her desk, spinning when you hear sam’s voice nearby.

“hey, sam! steve,” you greet. sam returns your grin and musses up your hair while steve settles with a controlled smile and a nod.

“how’s my favorite agent? still kicking ass?” sam asks.

“i just finished up that mission two days earlier than planned, so… yeah,” you brag with a wink. “how’re sarah and the kids?”

“good. she went on a date yesterday, still gotta see how that went. jim and jody start school again next week, so they call to complain about it whenever they can. somethin’ about superhero uncle privileges.”

you suck air in through your teeth and stare up at him guiltily. “they bring up good points.”

“that’s the problem!” sam exclaims, eyes flickering to something off to the side. “someone needs me. talk to you later.” he pats your shoulder before taking his leave.

you turn to steve, bouncing on your heels excitedly. “how’s your cat?”

steve laughs before replying, already slipping his phone out from his back pocket. “she’s doing great. already stealing my socks.” he shows you his phone’s screen, faint smile on pink lips as you eye the orange cat over pairs of mismatched socks, disappointed frown on its snout as it stares into the camera.

“oh, that’s love,” you praise with a clap. “and art class? monday, right?”

“yup. surprisingly relaxing.”

“i told you,” you pester before catching movement on bucky’s end. he steps out, and the agents that had gathered in front of the office to talk to the other avengers silence, beginning to dissipate. you frown, able to see bucky’s indifference but not having it in you to mimic it yourself.

you bend to grab a mug of coffee you’d prepared earlier, giving steve a friendly smile and a tilt of the drink. “be right back.”

you weave your way to bucky until you’re next to him, cheeks pulled as you offer him the large teal mug, index finger over the bump of the ceramic octopus’ eye, pinky grazing one of the tentacles at the bottom.

“hello,” you say.

bucky stares at you. “hi.”

“i made you coffee.” you shake the drink a little. “i hope you like it, it’s completely based on my assumptions.” you chuckle lightly at yourself. “if you don’t, it’s fine.”

bucky’s eyes continue to bore into you, but you don’t falter, continuing to smile with the octopus mug in hand. slowly, his fingers reach to hook around the handle, pulling it to his chest.

“thank you.” he’s gruff as always, but there’s a note of surprise sewn in that you find interesting.

“no problem,” you quip, beginning to head back toward your desk, but you stop yourself, pointer finger in the air as if you’d recalled something. “oh! some of the other agents and i are ordering in from this sushi place that’s supposed to be really good. would you like to join us?”

you can feel genevieve’s stare as you offer it, catch the confused part of bucky’s lips as he mulls it over in confusion.

“...really?” he says finally, shifting on his feet somewhat suspiciously.

you giggle. “of course! we’d love to have you there.”

there’s another brief pause of his intense staring and your intense beaming before he clears his throat. “sure. why not?”

“great! it’s at the conference room on the third floor, see you there!”

bucky isn’t left with much of a response as you turn and walk over to the incredulous look on genevieve’s face.

-

bucky’s grumbling in the elevator next to sam, shuffling his feet as he concentrates on the lowering numbers above the elevator doors, made out of bright white dots underneath smooth glass. sam stares at him, watching him clench his jaw, ocean irises stormy.

“you’re really gonna eat with ‘em?”

bucky grunts in response, rolling his shoulders.

“now, why the hell would you do that?”

he sniffs, tongue swiping at dry lips. sam brightens, dark, squinted eyes widening in annoying realization, mouth pulling into an understanding grin. bucky groans when he says your name.

“‘shoulda known,” sam says, a lilt to his words that makes bucky huff a little sigh.

“she asked.” is bucky’s explanation.

“i ask you for things all the time,” sam complains, stubbornly shoving his hands in his pockets, lips in a wobbly thin line.

bucky feels the wait between five is three is longer than it should be.

“s’what? i gotta be a pretty girl and make some coffee for your grumpy ass?” sam asks. the doors part and bucky exhales in relief, stepping through them but sam’s not finished. sam’s never fucking finished. “is that how i get you to stop eating my fuckin’ ice cream? do some paperwork?” he calls.

bucky flips him the bird, searching for the conference room and your bright smile.

he spots it a few paces away through the window, licking his lips again when he catches your eye. his opportunity to ditch this entire thing is out the window the moment you send him an excited wave with chopsticks between your fingers.

you’re the only one who’s seen him until he pushes open the door and all eyes turn to him, conversation dying on every tongue once soaked in teasing jests. bucky looks around the room, nose twitching. the tension is palpable and he thinks he should leave.

then you cheer his name, bouncing off your seat to wrap your fingers around his bicep, tugging him to the chair next to yours. he spies eyes widening and thinks the agents are being a little dramatic. “i didn’t think you were coming,” you admit.

“‘told you i would,” he reminds gruffly, scanning shocked features. “did they know i was?”

“what? oh.” you wave a hand dismissively at your coworkers. “the more the merrier. paula invited her yoga instructor once.”

it’s still tense, chopsticks frozen around sushi as if unsure what to do next, but you’re either oblivious to it or you don’t care, chattering on with explanations about the different types of sushi available.

“help yourself,” you finish, setting a plate down in front of him. “what were you saying, toby? about last night’s yoga?”

toby eyes bucky uneasily, biting down on his bottom lip uncertainly. “uh. just saying how much of a weirdo this instructor was.”

everyone nods stiffly.

“right! now i’m glad i didn’t take you up on your invitation,” you laugh. “my dog makes a great yoga buddy, though, so it worked out.”

“yeah,” patricia pipes up hesitantly, eyes still flickering from bucky to you. “how is quack?”

you beam so brightly you put down your food. “he confuses the sit and roll over commands, so if i tell him to sit, he’ll roll over, but if i tell him to roll over, he lays down. not sure why but i love him anyway.”

“what’ll make him sit?” bucky asks, all knitted brows and gruff voice.

“down,” you reply, then raise a finger. “but also, strangely enough, if i say the word ‘duck.’”

bucky grunts, shoving one of the pieces of sushi you recommended to him into his mouth.

the silence that follows is long and uneasy.

“my hamster died yesterday,” genevieve blurts suddenly. you send her a confused look as the other agents say their quiet apologies.

bucky chews slowly. “sorry for your loss.”

“thanks,” genevieve replies. she clears her throat. “i should go… train. for the… mission.”

“right,” patricia says, standing too. “yes. we’re very dedicated agents, sergeant.”

bucky wrinkles his nose and she shifts awkwardly. “...sir.”

toby packs up, too, sending your pout a quick smile. “i’ll see you later,” he offers, inhaling sharply before he ducks his chin at bucky. “um, it was… very nice eating with you, sergeant bucky barnes, sir.”

they scramble away, leaving only you and bucky in the conference room.

bucky tenses his jaw as you frown.

“think that was because of me, doll.”

“no!” you argue. “there really is a mission. at some point.” a sigh. “i’m sorry, bucky—”

“why? you didn’t do anything, sweetheart. i’m just saying that you should’ve probably expected that—”

“if they knew you—”

“they don’t like me, they’re not gonna know me.” bucky pops a pieve of sushi into his mouth as you look at the door disapprovingly.

“it’s not that they don’t like you,” you contest. “it’s just… you’re so angry all the time—”

“that’s just my face, sweets, i’m not angry.”

“maybe,” you pause. “smile a little.” at his grunt, you poke his side. “just sometimes. as a peace offering,” you tease, then grin brightly as if to show him what to do.

he glowers at you for a moment before sighing, swallowing his food. “fine.” he tries it, lips twitching up into a strained smile.

you wince, patting his cheek gently. “thank you for trying, baby.”

“what? you don’t like my award-winning smile?” bucky jests, beginning to eat again.

“i like it when it’s real,” you retort, tapping his nose with your finger. “you have a very pretty real smile, bucky.”

bucky’s features set again, but his cheeks pink. “thanks, sunshine.” he runs his tongue over his teeth. “sorry you’re stuck eatin’ with me.”

you humph disdainfully. “i love eating with you. and today’s gossip wasn’t even that good, bucky, don’t even worry about it.”

“really? nothing about joanie’s date?”

“nope.”

“what about genevieve’s email admirer? toby’s secret child?”

“hasn’t messaged in a week, is his cat, i think.”

“well then. i guess we’d be the best gossip today, huh?”

“we’d always be the best gossip, bucky, please,” you condemn. 

“we probably are. little sunshine eating with the big bad wolf. they’re probably sayin’ i’m taking your food or something.” bucky laughs.

you beam, cocking you head at him.

“what?” he asks.

“i told you your real smile was real pretty.”

bucky grunts, leaning over to press a kiss to your hair. “sunshine, you’re really ruining my reputation here.”

“you like it,” you badger.

“i do,” bucky hums, scanning your face with quick blue movements. you’re so bright and pretty, light in a way that makes him feel dirty for daring to kiss his shadows over your sunshine. he growls in frustration, catching the concerned knit of your brows before he dives to kiss you. “i really do.”

#fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

a stranger in the window

part 2 of demon!bucky series

in which: you talk to an old lady and have a very normal day in your bookstore

wc: 2.3k

proofread: yeah by me but my head hurts really bad so if u see an error just move along (jk tell me)

notes: i think this is the only part 2 to anything i’ve ever posted and also the longest fic i’ve written so far ahaha

Keep reading

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Going through who i follow and finding like 20 blogs who aren’t active/who deleted is so so sad :(

It’s like a graveyard of the people who inspired me to write.

#i really hope things change for the better on here🥲 #tumblrs algorithm needs help #fic writers #marvel fic

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

oh to be obsessed over by a hunky super soldier 😌✨ he can keep me for however long he so chooses~

Run, Bunny—part two

Dark!Bucky x Reader (part one here)

Summary : Bucky listens to Steve’s advice and takes his bunny on a run.

Warnings : Dub-Con !! Daddy kink !! Dumbification !! Stalker!Bucky !! slight mean!Bucky!! Widow!Reader !! Dom/sub relationship !! Dark!Bucky !! Chase Kink !! Size kink !! DomBucky !! SubReader !!

A/N : Hi Hi !! Yes !! This is a repost !! I was not happy with my first post of this chapter. Thank you all for understanding! Xoxo

Bucky’s first encounter with you was actually your first ever encounter with the team. He knew very little about you and he had no desire to change that. The constant talk from Steve, Natasha, & Clint about how witty you were and how you would be a great new addition didn’t change his mind, it had only made him ready for the whole ordeal to be over with. That is until he actually met you.

You and Natasha were suited in your traditional Widow gear coming off the jet. He’d known you and the redhead had a past. Her training you in The Red Room and you later becoming a feared assassin that very few people could get information on, though that’s about as little as his memory would allow him.

Natasha quickly tugged your body with hers as the two of you made your way over to him and Steve. You didn’t look like a Black Widow and you definitely didn’t look like a top tier assassin. Your eyes had too much sparkle and your smile was too innocent. Hell you barely reached Bucky’s shoulders, so how could you possibly take down anyone above your own size?

You were innocent. How much? He didn’t know but he knew enough to tell you weren’t supposed to be in this line of work.

You only confirmed his thoughts when you finally made your way over to the two super soldier’s. “Boys this is (f/n) (l/n). She is basically my daughter and if any of you-“ Bucky cut Natasha off quickly extending his hand to shake your smaller one. Bucky usually wasn’t one to join in on socializing and definitely wasn’t one to go out of his way but for some reason he needed to touch you. He needed to feel your dainty but supposedly deadly hands. “James Barnes. Well Bucky Barnes. My friends call me Bucky.” He had said to you with a smirk he couldn’t hide. It satisfied him to see he had caused a nervous blush to form on your pretty face.

He knew it. Natasha was a liar. There was simply no way the bunny like girl in front of him was the same girl who worked alongside Clint and Natasha.

“Buck, Natasha doesn’t look too happy with you.” Steve had joked with a nervous smile. If Bucky had any care to look over at Natasha, who was clearly unhappy with being cut off, he would have seen what could only be described as murder in the form of a human being. But he didn’t because he simply didn’t care. He was too focused on looking at how your eyes avoided his. This sparked a feeling of irritation in him. Why wouldn’t you look at him?

Bucky’s need to figure you out continued. Bucky described it as a mission, while Steve deemed it stalking.

“Buck, you know you could always simply talk to her? She’s probably the most approachable person on the team!” Steve tried to reason his best friend only for Bucky to grunt in response. The two former soldiers were running the track that trainees often used. Bucky liked the track. It was repetitive and kept his mind from racing with wild thoughts. “What makes you think I even want to talk to her, punk?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that every time I actually get you to come out with me it’s always here. Running. Right next to the path my girlfriend and the girl you’re currently consumed by, go running every day.” Steve had said trying to show his concern for his friend.

Bucky suddenly stopped. An obvious case of irritation crossing over his face.

“Bucky,” the blonde said calmly as to not push Bucky’s irritation any further. “I fully support you asking her out, or befriending her or-“ he’s cut off by dramatic sigh from the brunette. “Sorry I just…I just don’t think the way you’re going about this is healthy. I know you went through her files.” Steve admitted—awkwardly scuffing his feet.

Bucky almost laughed.

‘I went through her bedroom too’ Bucky was tempted to say, just to push his nosy friend even more. Friday was down for less than an hour last week which meant he had free reign over any room he wanted to get into, but yours was the only one on his mind. He didn’t regret it. Not a single fucking bit. He didn’t gain much on your past life, your assassin days, but he did find out that his sweet little Bunny had a naughty side. Short little skirts and lacy, definitely not practical, panties being hidden away in your drawers.

“okay fine. What do you think I should do, Steve?” Bucky said. He doubted Steve had the kinda advice Bucky wanted but if it meant Steve would back off then he was willing to listen.

“Clint, Nat, and I are gonna be gone for that mission in Croatia next week. She’ll be without her running buddy. Go with her will you?”.

Bucky hummed to himself. That wasn’t actually a bad idea. Bucky grunted as the only sign of agreement and Steve seemed satisfied with that.

The two men began their run again. Bucky couldn’t help but look towards the woods to were he could hear you and Natasha laughing. Your hair messy and cheeks red. He decided then that he wanted to always see you like that. He hadn’t realized at that moment that Steve’s idea would be the best thing Bucky ever did.

You were hyper aware of your surroundings. Your body twitched at the soft and sudden sounds of a leaf falling or a branch cracking. You were aware and prepared—but he would always be better. Always stronger. Always one step ahead.

Of course—he was designed to be 110% better than the average person—And while you weren’t by any means average—you still weren’t a super soldier. You’d never fought against someone under the serum. Politicians, mob bosses, and maybe the occasional alien posing as human—but never a super soldier.

“I’m gonna get you baby~! Cmon you know I will!” His voice cut through the forest—teasing his prey. He wasn’t far but he was far enough for you to hide. No doubt he was angry about the stunt you’d pulled—you knew he wasn’t going to hold back from whatever it was he planned on doing to you.

You moved quickly, hiding in what could be the saddest hiding spot ever. But the tree you hid behind was your only option.

“What do you think I should do to ya when I find ya, Bunny? Should I kiss those pretty lips of yours? Bet you’d like that. That innocent little head of yours dream about being kissed?” He taunted—picking on your innocence.

“Or…should I fuck you? Fuck you so hard I split you open?” He boomed—growing closer by the second.

You hated yourself for instinctually slamming your legs together because yes—you did want it. You wanted all of it. You wanted to be kissed softly then fucked hard. You wanted him—even if he sparked fear within you.

He was getting closer. You had to think fast.

“Sorry Bun—but I don’t think I care about what you want. Not right now at least. So here’s what I’m gonna do…”

there was no way he couldn’t hear your heart beat, especially with him being as close as he was. You knew you had to jet.

So you ran.

A strangled screech-like whimper escaped your throat. You struggled as you were pulled back by your hair—like a kitten by the scruff of its neck. Your srunchie pulled and gone from where it had messily held your hair in a pony.

You tried to let out another cry—a louder one this time—but he was faster. He predicted it. Cold hard metal harshly muffled your cries. Your hands clawed, harshly trying to get him to release you.

You had the power, you thought. You’d taken on evil men before. Why was this so hard?

“God—you really are a Bunny! Look at you tryna’ jump away!” He mocked as hot salty tears ran down your puffy cheeks. “Aw~ Don’t pout baby—I’ll give you what you need.” His lips left a soft kiss to the side of your temple before he nuzzled his nose against your head—breathing you in.

“Fuck—you just had to run away.” He tsked, flesh hand moving from your waist up to your breast. “You never did let me say what I planned on doin’ to ya…” he mumbled before pinching one of your hardened buds—causing you to jerk in his hold.

“Well…as I was saying—I’m gonna fuck you. Gonna wreck this cute little pussy.” he growled into your ear. His cold hand left your mouth, trailing down to the beginning of your leggings—his other still roughly playing with your tits. “Gonna fuck my cum into you so hard—no one will be able to walk past you without smelling me on you, baby.”

His fingers dances along the hem of your panties before dipping in—finding your clit and pinching it harshly. You screeched at the pain—your panties growing wetter to your own embarrassment.

Your scream earned you a sudden squeeze to your throat—his hand very capable of cutting off your air supply but resting there as a warning. “Got myself a loud little bunny—don’t move. I might just snap this pretty little neck of yours if you struggle baby.” He threatened, thumb circling your clit as his index played with your gushing entrance. He had yet to fill you up and it was killing you—pushing you towards desperation.

“P-please Bucky—m’sorry please fuck me!” you tried to reason him. You knew he needed it too—His obvious erection had been rubbing against your ass.

In an attempt to make him follow through with his threats—you rubbed your ass against his hardened cock—resulted in a few curses the hand constricting your neck slightly loosening. It was slight but it was enough. You swiftly ripped him by his arm—in an attempt to disorient him—then landed a harsh kick to his chest.

Maybe you couldn’t take a super soldier but you sure could distract a horny super soldier.

He was pissed. The short look you had into his eyes was enough for you to now he most likely would snap your neck given the chance. Quickly you straddled him—locking his arms down with your thighs. It wouldn’t keep him down long.

“Bunny I’m gonna kill-“ he tried to threaten.

“Shut up—You were taking too long Daddy.” You said as you ran your hands up his chest—smirking at the moan that left him from the use of the nickname.

The twitch of his cock was the greenlight to finally let him out. Fuck. He was big—and already leaking cum from his angry red tip. How…how would this work?

His hips bucked into you—He obviously saw you staring.

“What baby? Don’t think a lil thing like you can handle it?” He pushed with that same smirk on his face. You pushed back an eye roll—ignoring him as you grabbed hold of his cock, lining it up with your slick entrance.

“Shit” you cursed—a long, almost pathetic, whine fell from your lips. You almost fell right onto his chest from the stretch—but you weren’t ready for him to win yet.

Bucky was gentle for the moment—rough hands gripping your hips as your smaller body tried to fit his. He couldn’t hold back small words of encouragement as he examined the slight bulge in your belly.

Maybe he should have fingered you—but truly, nothing could prepare your for the stretch of his cock.

“C’mon little Bunny,” he cooed as you adjusted—hands forming fist on his chest. Bucky’s right hand left your hip and softly wrapped, once again, around your delicate neck. Though this time—it was more of a comfort than a threat.

“Go on—bounce on daddy’s cock” he encouraged—and you did.

The woods were no longer filled with the chirps of birds—only the harsh slaps of skin, your whimpers, and the grunts of Bucky trying to hold back.

Suddenly cold met your hot aching clit—Bucky viciously rubbing your approaching orgasm out of you. There was no way you could last much longer—hopefully he wouldn’t either as your body was slowly giving out.

Swiftly—he flipped you both. You now under him—leaves crunching under your body and twisting in your hair.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you so full, Bunny. Gonna let the whole team see you dripping with my cum—let ‘em’ see you’re all mine”

Soon after his dark words—stars clouded your vision and the feeling of his hot, wet seed was running down your shaky thighs.

Bucky held himself above you—the heat from his body surrounding you, forcing you into submission.

After his breathing slowed—Bucky took in your pretty face. He watched as your eyes fluttered open-then closed. He rubbed away the partially dried tear-trails that decorated your cheeks—toyed with the pinkness of your trembling bottom lip.

He knew you weren’t just some sick type of case he had to solve. He needed to know you. To understand you. Have you as his.

“Fucking hell, Bunny. I…I don’t think I can let you go. It’s like you’re made for me, baby.” Bucky mumbled, eyeing his seed as it dripped out of you.

You were exhausted—you never did processes what he had said to you then. You never heard the disturbing confessions of love he gave as he cleaned you up with what he could. No, you only felt the kisses pressed to your forehead as he removed leaves from your hair.

He kept his promise. He carried you in his arms—all the way back to the tower. Though—he didn’t let the whole team see the mess he had made of you. No he wanted that to stay for himself.

Bucky had finally claimed you as his. And hopefully—you and the world understood that.

He made a mental note to thank Steve for his advice—whether Steve would be happy with how it turned out that wasn’t Bucky’s fault.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault his Bunny didn’t run fast enough.

Bunny’s Note : Thank you for reading!! If you did not read the note above—yes!! This is a repost!! Part three will be coming very soon!! Remember hearts are amazing—but reblogs and comments are very heart warming! Xoxo

Tag List 🎀

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