sergeantrosabellaswan

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Body of Christ

Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

Summary || There’s a new young priest in town, and there’s something very unholy about him…

Word Count || 2600

Contents & Warnings || Angst, Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, dub-con/non-con, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, catholic mass, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, explicit content/language, age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 30’s), sexual thoughts and acts, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, masturbation (female), mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || For months now I’ve been wanting to write for Priest!Bucky and it’s finally here :D Feedback/reblogs are much appreciated, and it lets me know that you want more writing for Priest!Bucky and my writing in general :)

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Priest!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

While your alarm clock chimed in that it was time to wake up, you slowly regained consciousness. It was Sunday, and it was early wake-up time to get ready for church.

You let it ring for a minute, and when it hit 07:27 AM, you pressed snooze to try and squeeze a few more minutes of sleep in before it was time to wake, but the light creeping through the window, hitting your face, wouldn't allow you to get a few more moments of peace, and neither would your mother it seamed. She burst through your bedroom door, trying to put her earrings in while ushering you to get out of bed.

“Honey, what are you still doing in bed? We have to leave in 20 minutes!”

“I'm getting up, mother,” you said in the sweetest tone, like the sweetheart your mother knew you were. When she left, you exhaled in annoyance and rolled your eyes. You usually loved to go to church, but today was one of those days where all you wanted was to lay in bed. The only way to stay home was to fake being sick, which you had done a few times in your life, but you knew the Lord wouldn't be pleased with you for lying.

A minute or two went by before the alarm rang once more. You let it ring for a few seconds before you pressed the off button and headed to the bathroom. As you step into the bathroom, you hop in the shower for a quick five-minute rinse to get the sleep off you and freshen up.

With your white cotton panties and matching bra on your body, you walk to your closet to find something to wear. Since it's rather hot outside, you decide on a lovely summer dress. The dress goes below your knees, stopping halfway on your shins. The neckline is open and square but still doesn't give too much away, while the shoulders have a little puff to them. The arms are open and bare.

You look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, adoring the lovely flower patterns on your dress. This would do. You do your face the bare minimum—filling in your eyebrows, putting on some mascara and applying a thin coat of lipgloss.

“Honey! Are you ready? We have to leave!”

“Coming!”

You examine yourself one last time in the mirror-giving yourself a nod of approval. You look pretty and presentable for church.

As you walk down the stairs, your parents are waiting for you at the foot of them. There's a disapproving expression on your dad's face at your chosen attire; for him, it's too much exposure and make-up. He shakes his head once you reach the bottom, arm crossed over the other.

“I don't like what you're wearing,” he voices sternly.

“I-I'm sorry, daddy.” You looked down in shame. It wasn't that bad, but with your dad being the town's police chief and highly conservative and religious, he always wanted his family to be on their best presentation and behaviour.

“There is no time for you to change now, so let's go, but this will have some repercussions, young lady,” he says in the same tone of voice.

“Yes, daddy.”

Your mom doesn't say a thing, as she knows that no matter what she tells him, your dad's opinion will never change.

With shame and guilt, you walk to the car and sit in the back, hugging yourself and giving yourself comfort on the five-minute car journey to the church.

——

Once you arrive, you see that almost everyone in your small town is attending church today. Which was unusual, but there was a reason for that, and you had almost completely forgotten that today was somewhat of a particular day. For a few weeks now, there's been talks and gossip in the community about a new young priest, Father James, that would be holding his first mass today. He would be taking over for Father Jacob, who was becoming old, frail and more and more creepy and senseless with the years. A fresh start with a new and sharp priest was needed for your small town.

There was a bit of a queue up to the church doors. Everyone stopped in the doorway to greet Father James and wish him luck. You stood on your tiptoes to try and get a glimpse of him, but there were too many people in your way. You could hear his voice over the chatter as you and your parents inched closer to him.

The sound of his voice was alluring and heavenly, warm and likeable, and you knew that he would have everyone captivated during the sermon while standing at the altar. You could get used to that voice, listening to him preach about God, listening to him talk about life and everything with it, having him whisper in your ear about…

“Honey?” Your mom shook your shoulder.

You inhale a slight gasp as you get snapped back into reality from the daydream you had escaped into, not even realising that you had gone into your world within.

“W-what?” Your voice was trembling and unsteady.

“Aren't you going to greet Father James?”

“Huh?” You peered at your mother, slightly confused and disoriented. She gives you an encouraging nod and a smile.

“I'm really sorry, Father, my daughters rather shy at times,” she laughs sweetly.

You hadn't even realised that you'd moved up the stairs and that it was your turn to meet the new priest. You take a second to get your bearings in order and finally look up at Father James for the first time, and upon looking at him, you are so glad that you didn’t decide to stay in bed today.

He displays a sweet and beautiful smile that lights up his gorgeous face. A wave of unknown feelings and emotions hits your chest as you take him in, all of him.

He was Godly handsome. He looks like one of those men you secretly dream and have unholy thoughts about late in the night, which you know is a great sin, but you couldn't help yourself at times.

He has semi-long hair that stops just above his shoulders, which looks so soft and silky. You wonder how it would be to run your hands through it. Your fingertips twitch in need and desperation to feel it.

His beard is starting to come through, making him look very rugged, which is a very unusual feature on a priest. You wonder how it would feel against your bare skin.

His beautiful blue eyes were to drown in. You wanted to get lost in them and never get out, but you could see a hint of darkness and mystery in them. It excited and terrified you at the same time.

Something about him that wasn't hard to miss was how huge and broad he was, practically towering over you, making you feel small and fragile. His chest was firm and puffed out, making his black shirt cling to him tight. The buttons on his shirt struggled to keep the material closed, and there was just something about his white clerical collar than tied his looks so perfectly together.

You must have gone into your own world again because your mother was calling your name once more.

“I'm really sorry, Father; she usually isn't like this.”

“No problem at all. It can be quite intimidating meeting new people. Hello, I'm Father James.” He gives you his hand, which was unusual for you since Father Jacob never offered his hand to the women and children, only to the men.

“O-oh, sorry. Hello, Father; it's a pleasure to meet you.” With slight hesitance, you placed your smaller hand into his bigger one. His hand practically swallowed yours wholly. It felt nice having his soft touch on you. His upper arm looked like it would burst through the material of his shirt at any moment as he gave you a light squeeze. You wondered what abilities those magnificent hands and arms possessed.

You gave him a sweet and polite smile, accompanied by a small curtsy, just like your mother had taught you to do when meeting someone new. There was a slight smirk on Father James’ face as he quickly looked you up and down.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Again, you started to get lost in him, but luckily this time, your dad opened his mouth to usher his family inside; the queue behind was becoming impatient.

“Come on, girls, let's not keep Father James busy.”

“I'll see you, good folks, inside.” Father James bid you farewell for now.

As you went past him, you sneaked a quick peek at him through your lashes and saw that he was keeping his gaze at you as you walked past, giving you a wink. You felt yourself heat up, and you proceeded to look down at your feet so no one could see how flustered Father James had made you. All his words and gestures, what did it all mean?

As you and your parents found your seat, you tried to push it out of your head for the time being. You were in church. This was not an appropriate time to go down that rabbit hole.

“Honey, are you alright?” Your mother noticed your dissociative state and got concerned—her hand on your shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

“I-I’m sorry, mother, I'm just very hot today,” you lied. You didn't feel bad about lying since it was technically the truth; it was a very hot day out.

“I'm sorry, baby; you'll feel better now that we are inside.”

“Yes, mother.”

To try and get your mind off Father James, you turned around to one of your good friends sitting behind you with her family and started chatting to her while waiting for the sermon to start.

A bell rings, and everyone in the church stands up. The sermon starts with Father James, clad in the sacred vestments, going in procession to the front, led by the altar boy carrying the cross. Father James genuflects before he walks to the altar to show his respect to God.

He officially begins mass with the sign of the cross; “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Everyone crosses themselves as he says it.

“... Amen,” all in the room say in unison.

He begins leading everyone with an opening prayer; “Let us Pray.”

“Lord Jesus Christ, Your name above every other name, we praise you. We pray that your name is blessed now and forever, in good times and in bad, from east to west. Your name is worthy of praise. Your name is powerful. Your name rules over the nations. Your glory is higher than the heavens. Your name is beautiful. Let us praise the name of the Lord together. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.”

That was a beautiful prayer, you thought. Father James’ love and respect for God was beautiful and powerful, making tears form in your eyes.

Everyone sits down as Father James is about to begin the first reading…

After a captivating and beautiful sermon led by the new priest, it was time to take Holy Communion.

You and your parents are standing in line to approach the altar to receive it—your father in front, your mother in the middle, and you behind her. The closer you get to the altar, the more nervous and excited you get, practically shaking, that you'll be in Father James’ presence once more.

Once it's your turn, you take a deep breath before taking the two steps to where he's standing. You bow in acknowledgement of Christ’s presence and look into Father James’ eyes. They're intently fixated on you. They are much darker than when you previously looked into them. A dark cloud of something wicked swims in them. It makes you swallow the lump that had formed in your throat.

“The Body of Christ,” he says while holding up the Host in front of you.

You keep looking into his eyes and say, “Amen.”

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out a little to receive the Body of Christ. Father James places the Host on the surface, and with the pad of his thumb, he caresses the tip of your wet tongue. His thumb drags down and pulls your bottom lip with it before placing his hand by his side again. A sinister smirk forms on his lips, and his tongue darts out to wet them as he takes in the sight of you.

You are entirely frozen in place. Eyes wide and doe as you stare into his ones that are now completely possessed by the Devil himself. Your heart beats a million miles per hour, and your skin tingles. You would think that you would be scared and disgusted at his actions, but no, no, you want more. You want more of what this man has to offer. You want him to do things to you, unspeakable things that not even you yourself quite understand.

The new and unknown emotions are becoming too much for you, and you must leave his powerful presence before you faint in front of everyone.

“T-thank you, F-Father.”

You bow down once more, and with shaking legs, you leave the altar, skipping the Blood of Christ. You wouldn’t have been able to do it on two standing feet.

Once you sit down with your parents again, you clench your thighs and eyes to try and stop the aching you are experiencing in your intimate area; your cotton panties were damp with your excitement and arousal. Your bundle of pleasure is begging to be touched and caressed. This is one of the greatest sins, and you're experiencing it in a church of all things. God could not be pleased with you now, and you know that you'll need to repent for your sins later…

——

In bed that night, you just can't seem to get Father James out of your mind. You try with all your might to fall asleep and think of something else, but the events from today cloud your mind and make you pulsate down below, your panties becoming wet once more.

You know you shouldn't touch yourself. You know it's a great sin. Your parents, especially your father, have drilled into your brain repeatedly that God says it's dirty and the devil's work to touch oneself and bring pleasure upon your body, but sometimes you can't help yourself. The euphoric feeling was too extraordinary to pass upon, and you couldn't understand why God would be against a sensation that made a person feel good? Doesn't God want us, his creations, to be happy and feel satisfied? God could be very confusing at times…

This night wouldn't be the first night you'd touched yourself, but each time it did feel wrong in a way. Especially now when a priest was making your thoughts sinful and unholy, but tonight, the Devil spoke louder than God.

You start by delicately palming your breasts through the thin t-shirt you sleep in, mewling soft cries as you try to imagine big and rough hands touching you instead. Your back arches as your hand glides down your stomach and your legs spread to welcome its touches on your most intimate area. After teasing and toying with the edge of your panties, you finally insert your hand into the soft material, finding yourself slick with excitement.

“Forgive me, Father, for I'm about to sin….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Thank you hotd fam for making me feel like a million bucks— it’s also so freeing and fun to be confident and open about this to ppl in my personal life. I told my aa sponsor and she was like YES GIRL! What a queen. Next up for HOTD I’m gonna try to get into the obsessive Criston hcs but I am a busy bitch

Anyways this nasty shit has been sitting in my drafts TOO DAMN LONG. I have so many Bucky blurbs if anyone is into those— they’re already written. BUT in honor of going to an all day Catholic event tomorrow I’m going to try to get excommunicated by posting this. Ladies and gents and fancy folx I bring you: ✝️beefy priest bucky✝️

Noble and Chaste

“Lust; disordered desire for or inordinate enjoyment of sexual pleasure.” -Catechism of the Catholic Church

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Rough oral (m!receiving), priest kink, LOTS OF SACRILEGE, teasing, confession booth, manipulation, age difference, dom!bucky, priest!bucky, BEEFCAKE BUCK, reader is of age, degradation, dirty talk, deep throating, f!masturbation, smuttysmutsmut

1977

St. Maria Goretti Boarding School. Also known as where parents send their daughters who are whores or have a temperance issue. Or both, just like you. Your parents sent you up the east coast to this place in upstate New York. It was down the road from an asylum. You felt that was a planned threat.

You placed your new record onto the player. It was the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever. You loved disco so much. Back in New York you’d gone to some clubs and partied all night long to their songs. Now you were here surrounded by idiots and dusty nuns. At least the priest was funny. You had a year left, this being your senior year. You could pretend to be normal and get back into your parents good graces before fucking off to college and being free again.

For now you smoked out of the window, singing to the along to ‘Night Fever’. Wanda whined from her bed, “No smokingggg, Sister Agatha will whip us again.” You rolled your eyes and snickered, “You want one or not Maximoff?” She groaned and joined you on the windowsill, lighting up.

The girl was accused by her parents of being into ‘witchcraft’. In reality she just liked crystals and horoscopes. She took a drag and spoke on the exhale, “Did you hear about the assistant priest coming to train under Father Dugan?” You whinged, “He better be hot this time. The one two years ago was a square.”

Wanda gasped, “Girl! He’s a man of the cloth.”

The pair of you devolved into giggles, bumping shoulders affectionately. You spent the afternoon gossiping and planning on how one would seduce the young priest.

You ended up wearing your skirt from freshman year. You’d grown since then, leaving little to the imagination. Of course you had your thick white tights on underneath. If your button popped loose on your shirt during the nightly meeting, everyone would be too prudish to say anything until afterward. Wanda dolled you up with the little makeup the pair of you had smuggled.

The nightly meetings were a bore. It was run by Father Dugan. They were a time for the ladies to share about a topic and learn how to deal with it more ‘christ-like’. Sometimes you’d just start laughing uncontrollably to Sister Agatha’s chagrin. You strolled in, last in line of the senior girls. There was about twelve of you, filling the chairs. Sister Agatha watched like a hawk from the back of the small room.

Father Dugan walked in with the new priest. A collective low burble of noises broke out amongst the ladies. You whispered to Wanda, “Fuck— he’s like sex on legs.” Dugan smiled knowingly but you focused in on the new one. He was powerfully built, all wide shoulders and huge arms. The priest had brown hair to his neck and the prettiest lips. His angel face and baby blues didn’t quite match up with being sturdy as a brick shithouse.

He introduced himself softly, “Hello, I’m Father Barnes. I’ll be helping Father Dugan here until I’m assigned to my first parish. I can’t wait to get to know you lovely ladies of the Lord.”

You lowly groaned, “I can’t wait either.”

The pair of holy men sat in two of the chairs in the circle. You eyed Barnes’ chest straining his black garb. God he was gorgeous. Father Dugan started with a prayer and some scripture. He began, “And with that, I’d like to talk about confession and honesty today.” You snorted when the others all suddenly had something to say. They could try but he was yours.

You sat through the boring drivel and bit back a laugh when Elizabeth burst into tears about lying to her parents. Agatha cleared her throat pointedly, staring you down. You caught blue eyes on you, and smiled good-naturedly at Father Barnes. He blushed and redirected his attention to the squalling Elizabeth. Wanda elbowed you.

“Since you seem to be so invested, why don’t you share your thoughts?,” Dugan asked humorously as he pointed at you. You laughed flatly, straightened up and crossed your legs. You dryly rambled, “Well Father. To be human is to sin. We’re born with it. Instead of holding onto the guilt I just confess it. Whether it’s to you or my friend, I have to be honest. Even if I just pray to the Holy Spirit. Keeps me in check.”

Dugan replied, “Well said. Humans are sinful. So we must-“ You blocked off his voice to a dull hum as you ‘accidentally’ popped a button on your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Wanda smirked from next to you. You stretched your arms, highlighting the opening. Father Barnes’ eyes flickered over before dropping to the ground. Then repeating again. Hooked. With an exaggerated gasp you excused yourself from the meeting, citing ‘impropriety’.

You relaxed in your bed, kicking your legs as you laughed. Wanda busted in and pointed at you. She hissed, “You little minx! He watched your ass when you left the meeting!” You rolled onto your side with a smirk. You drawled, “I just gotta get some more info,” you hugged yourself dramatically, “get closer!” Wanda cackled in glee before Sister Maria told you two to hush through the door.

The next day you were in the cavernous library. Considering all your faults you did try to keep your grades up to secure your way out. You wrote down equations, a bored hand supporting your head. You heard a door open behind you, and some footsteps echoing after.

“Dugan warned me about you,” Barnes spoke.

He tried to sound confident but you picked up on the slight crack in his voice. You smirked at your paper before schooling it into a placid expression. You retorted, “Whatever do you mean, Father?” You turned to face the young priest, who perched on a table two rows away. His muscular arms were crossed defensively.

Barnes’ lips pouted as he stared you down. A few beats of silence passed over the room before he spoke again.

“I think you know what I mean,” he deadpanned.

You mimicked the clergyman’s pose, turning around to sit on the table. You spread your legs ever-so-slightly. Barnes’ eyes stayed on your face but his jaw twitched and cheeks flushed. You purred, “Tell me. What did Dugan say about me?” You thought the man was going to explode as he slapped his hand down on the table and spluttered, “Quit with the nonsense!”

Your lips stretched into a catlike grin.

“Tell you what Father, I’ll confess to you what I do so sinfully. Then we can start fresh huh?”

The angered brunette’s heaving chest slowed as he processed your words. Accusing blue orbs bore into you before he clicked his tongue. Barnes replied, “Fine. Lead the way.” You laughed and hopped off the table, swaying down the hallway leading to the chapel and confession booths. You felt his heat close behind, but the man kept quiet.

You entered the booth, kneeling immediately. The priest entered the other side, the curtains closing with a swish. You heard the wood creak as he sat down. He cleared his throat awkwardly. You made a sign of the cross while speaking, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was one month ago."

You saw his silhouette shift behind the screen. You continued, “Since my last confession I’ve sinned greatly. I was inattentive and late to the last mass. I didn’t show respect for my classmates. I’ve been prideful, angry, envious, and a gossip.” The priest hummed quietly as you breathed, “I’ve been especially bad lately. A lustful sort. I know why Dugan said what he did.”

His breath hitched as you falsely expressed sorrow in your next words.

“I haven’t been chaste in word and thought. I’ve had impure thoughts and gratified myself sexually to them. I just can’t help it. It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked.” Your voice petered out in a sigh, “And you look so good.”

He growled suddenly, “Do you think this is a joke?”

You shook your head vehemently. You cried, “I’m so sorry— do you think I’ll be forgiven?”

You yelped as he jerked out of the booth. You thought he was leaving before a big hand ripped you up violently by the arm. Barnes pressed you up against the unforgiving wood of the confessional. His nostrils flared and jaw ticked as he furiously glared at you. The brunette’s hand gripped your arm in a vice.

You held his gaze, panting softly. He hissed, “You probably won’t be forgiven. But neither will I.” His lips sealed against yours roughly, dominating the space. You opened up, letting the man take his rising frustrations out. Your free arm wrapped around his neck, gripping at the base of his skull. You moaned lowly as he nipped your lip, big body pressing into your giving flesh.

The priest let go of your arm to move both hands down to your ass, squeezing forcefully. He groaned raggedly, “Fuckin’ Jezebel— Delilah— Been thinkin’ bout that ass since last night. Whore of Fuckin’ Babylon.” You whined at his words, chasing his plump lips eagerly. Father Barnes sucked on your tongue before massaging it with his own. His thick cock pressed into your waist, throbbing hotly.

You moaned, “Wanna suck you off— please.”

He pushed you down quickly. You cried out when your knees hit the wood floor. He jammed two thick fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Saliva filled your mouth as you sucked the best you could. His eyes rolled back and you saw his cock twitch under his dark slacks. The brunette breathed out, “Do it then, do it since you need it so bad. Slutty little thing.”

Trembling hands undid his belt and popped the button. You slid down the zipper and pulled him out with a shaky noise around his unmoving fingers. Drool fell down your chin, dropping onto the floor between your thighs. Your pussy throbbed and clenched in need. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, sucking on the wet digits with a long groan. Your hands held onto the man’s hips as you slid him in your mouth.

You started with kitten licks around his tip before swiping your tongue against the leaking slit, savoring the salty taste. The priest swore and groaned, thighs flexing. Then you started to suck and hollow your cheeks to take him in. His hips thrusted forward and you gagged. Barnes cursed, “Fuck— you’re gonna take this cock like a good girl now. I’m gonna fuck your throat, mhm.” You nodded around his length, sucking air in through your nose.

Tears slid down your face as he eased the hot flesh down your throat. Eventually your body accepted the intrusion and he started an easy rhythm, hips thrusting shallowly. The man let out a weak noise and gripped at your hair. He quickly sped up, the slick noises of your throat heightening. Father Barnes hissed, “Sh-shit you feel good. Damned succubus.” His strokes stuttered when you whined pathetically on a particularly hard jerk of his hips.

You reached a hand down between your legs, shoving your fingers into your panties to get at your swollen clit. He laughed breathlessly, “Yeah pretty girl— come when I fill your whore mouth.” You circled your fingers harder around the sensitive bud, bucking onto your hand. He was earnestly fucking your throat now, you choking on a whimper every other thrust. The man of the cloth fared no better, running a frantic hand through his long hair and softly begging for forgiveness as he let out a particularly high noise.

Barnes cried out, “G-gonna come, fuck, fuck!” He pulled you flush to his pelvis, your nose hitting his wiry curls. You felt him twitch and swell as the man emptied down your throat. You seized up on your fingers and wailed around his dick as you gushed in your panties. The brunette slid out with a whimper as you gasped for breath. Your swollen lips throbbed as you heaved in. The clergyman rubbed a big hand against your cheek.

He looked down at you, pinkened cheeks and hazy eyes making him look like an angel. Barnes demanded softly, “Act of contrition.” You whined a ‘huh’ as he repeated harder, “Say the act of contrition.”

You made another sign of the cross with a weak hand as you hoarsely prayed, “O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen.”

He drawled, “You’re absolved. Come back next week.”

Barnes extended his other hand to help you up. You stumbled like a newborn foal into his broad chest. His stony face eased into a soft smile as he murmured, “Such a good girl. You alright?” You nodded against his chest, worn out from the experience. He kissed your forehead and warned, “No speaking of this. Then maybe I’ll let you come on my tongue next time.”

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺

I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂

Sick Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.

You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.

Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.

“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”

You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.

He had nothing to worry about though.

“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.

A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.

“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”

You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”

“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.

“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”

Why is he getting himself worked up?

“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”

It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.

“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”

“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.

He didn’t need your tears on top of that.

But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”

God, I love this man.

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.

Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.

“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”

Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.

“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”

“We'll watch whatever you want.”

You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”

You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”

With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”

You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.

Which was exactly why he called you down there.

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”

“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.

You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.

“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”

You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”

He also had a cold.

Oh, no.

“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.

“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”

Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.

“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”

Oh, Bucky.

You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.

“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”

Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.

Maybe both.

But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.

When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.

“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”

You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.

And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.

“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”

“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.

Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Oops.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”

“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.

Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.

You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”

He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.

“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”

Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”

True.

“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”

Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.

And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.

Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

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[sergeantrosabellaswan]

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Avengers: Age of Ultron

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[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Emergency Contact

(Steve Rogers x Reader)

All fluff

Word count: 3,081

Summary: After three years together, you finally experience the joy of being Steve’s emergency contact.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, guns, illness, and medicine. Loopy Steve! My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked.Minors DNI.

AN: I love writing Steve fluff, and honestly, I think the world needs more of it!!!! All mistakes are my own, hope you love it! <3

Steve Rogers was a man of many traits, but needy and attention seeking was definitely nowhere on that list. Well, at least that was the case for most of his life.

The Avengers loved teasing him for the way his striking authority and stubborn independence completely crumbled away into a pile of dust the moment you walked into the room. Just the sight of you relaxed his stiff posture and brought a permanent grin to his otherwise expressionless face.

Sure, off duty Steve was all laughs and smiles. Any time he spent with the team that didn't involve boring meetings or adrenaline pumping athletics, his personality was larger than life. But for some reason, you pulled it out of him even when he tried his hardest to stay neutral.

He never accepted help or allowed others to love him the same way he helped and loved everyone around him, unless it was you.

Which made you the very obvious first choice as his emergency contact, and you had been since two months into your relationship with the Captain. It wasn't even something that was discussed or you were informed of. It was an executive decision made by Tony the moment he realized you were pretty much the only person qualified to be there.

Now here you were three years later. Still americas sweetheart, and still the perfect emergency contact. Three years of waiting for an emergency call that never came, well, that was until it did.

Steve, the selfless and heroic bastard he was, snuck onto enemy lines and over a blockade to free over two-hundred hostages.

Did he free them? Yes.

Did he get shot in the head? Yes.

Did it only get worse from there? Yes.

Luckily for him, his helmet bared most of the burden. It did it's job exactly as intended, stopping the bullet and protecting his precious skull and even more precious brain. But after years of wear and bravery it's life came to an end as it inevitably cracked in half.

That resulted in a gnarly concussion after Steve was thrown off a five story building just moments after the helmet met its fate. The doctor explained to you that because the concussion was combined with pretty routine injuries, the serum could only do so much for Steve and that he was temporarily immunocompromised.

Steve sat patiently on the edge of a gurney while you listened to the doctor tell you all about how to take care of him. Your eyes occasionally drifted over to your human golden retriever and you almost wanted to slap him across his perfect concussed head.

He held an ice pack to the back of his head with a proudly smug expression on his face. His suit was tattered and torn, and you could see dark red stains of tacky pooled blood. His arms were scraped and he had deeply pronounced cuts on his temple, lips and nose. Your personal favorite part was that he could barely keep his eyes open, yet after they would slowly close, he would rip them open and blink a few times just to get his vision to focus on you.

After you and the doctor debriefed, you waited until he left the room to address Steve.

"You exhaust me, you big dumb idiot" You quietly scolded him after the door softly clicked into it's closed position. "I've been worried sick about you since I got the phone call almost two hours ago and you're sitting here smiling?!"

"You're so pretty" Hir smile stretched wider as you pulled him into a tight hug. "I missed you"

"I missed you too" You sighed into his hair. It was odd having his head below yours for once, but him sitting and you standing allowed for the unique experience.

Steve could tell that you really had been worried about him. You were practically melting into his arms, holding onto him so tight he thought that maybe he had actually died and came back to life. Even though your tight hold strained every screaming ache in his body, he held back winces and groans to allow you the comfort you needed.

"Please don't scare me like that ever again" Your sternness had quickly turned into worry and sympathy.

"'M sorry, darling. I didn't mean to" Steve slowly rubbed your back in attempts to appease your distress. "You know I'd never do anything that would keep me from coming home to you."

"You almost didn't" She denied his statement. "You were shot in the head and thrown off a building. That doesn't sound like something that would happen to someone just trying to go home"

"That's a normal Tuesday for me" He stated like it was a matter of fact.

"I hate Tuesdays" He could hear the pout in your voice before you pulled away and cradled his cheeks in your hands. "Are you okay?"

"I will be" He reassured you, but the pained expression on his face and the dulled blue in his droopy eyes told you that he definitely wasn't feeling good.

"I'm so happy you're home" You told him, but it came out in a broken whisper that allowed Steve to understand what you were really trying to say.

I'm so happy you made it home alive.

"Thank you for coming to get me" sincerity was laced into every word he spoke.

"Let's get you cleaned up and in bed" She grinned. "Doctor said you're on mandatory bed rest for three days. Are you going to listen, or did the fall make your hard head go soft?"

"I'm pretty sure my brain is a pile of mush right now, maybe three days would do me good" Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Beyond your wildest expectations, your stubborn hard headed boyfriend actually did listen. He spent three whole days sleeping away in your shared bed, or the living room couch in the compound. It was almost concerning to everyone who passed by to see him so deeply asleep and almost lifeless.

Amongst the words those would use to describe Steve, restless and active were very high up. But now those were tossed out of the window and replaced with needy.

By day four he wouldn't even let you out of his sight, but you didn't really want to leave him either. He spent hours curled up in a little ball with a pained scrunched up face.

His head was pounding, his muscles were sore, and more recently he found himself with a scratchy throat and blocked sinuses.

Having not been sick since the 40's, he was out of practice and strength to deal with it. The whole team accused him of having the 'man flu', exaggerating his symptoms to keep you close. Fake coughing and sneezing for a few extra back rubs, because really, how on earth could a super soldier get sick?

But they all didn't see him how you did. It was really out of the ordinary for him to make himself seem so small. They weren't the ones wrapping his shivering body in heated blankets, massaging his sore lower back, or playing with his hair just to get him to release any sort of misery to lull him to sleep.

Not only was he sick, but you could tell he was dealing with stirred up past trauma. He spent practically his whole life up until the war being unwell, struggling to breath with a body so nimble and weak it felt like it could give out at any moment.

So that's how you ended up here, with two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle using your chest as a pillow while watching Snow White.

Much like you loved to show him stuff he missed while he was in the ice, he loved to show you stuff from his time before the ice. Snow White just happened to be the one Disney film you hadn't seen, and the film that he has fond memories of.

He told you when you first started dating that it came out when he was nineteen years old, and it was the first thing to bring a genuine smile to his face since his mom passed away when he was eighteen. Steve knew with everything in him that she would've loved it.

You were more than happy to lay awake at 2:30am to watch it and play with his hair even if it would make him just the tiniest bit less miserable.

You mindlessly ran your fingers through the short length while he held you tight and snug. He was under so many blankets that you weren't really sure where your bodies started and ended, but you did know that between him and the pile, you were way more than warm. His body was like a furnace, it usually was but this was a whole new extreme.

The medicine he was prescribed was strong enough to tranquilize a horse, but it was a tough match on the super soldier who was desperately trying to stay awake to finish the tale of the seven dwarves. It was equal parts endearing and frustrating that he was fighting off sleep with every ounce of strength he had.

Luckily, this was a battle that he had lost around three in the morning. You waited a few minutes to make sure he was out cold before slipping out from underneath his sweaty body in attempts to take care of yourself too.

You had already accepted the fact that you're sleep schedule was royally fucked up, so you didn't even bat an eye when it came to showering at such an ungodly hour.

The real trouble came when you tried to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea to will yourself to sleep after days in bed with Steve.

Maybe you weren't quite as stealth or quiet as you thought you were being, but there was definitely nothing quiet about the shriek you let out when a warm pair of unsuspecting forearms wrapped around your stomach from behind.

"God, you scared the shit out of me" You complained to your drugged up boyfriend.

He was in nothing but his boxers with a blanket draped around his shoulders. His arms held your back tightly against his front while his head dropped to your shoulder, he wasn't doing much to support his body weight.

"You left me" He complained with the saddest little pout. His sweet voice was raspy and muffled by a very obvious sore throat, it was enough to make you weak in the knees. "Woke up s'sad"

"I'm sorry, baby." You used your free hand to grab his forearm and draw hearts into his skin with your thumb.

"Thassokay, so happy now" He was obviously in a cold medicine induced loopy state. "Needed to see my beautiful girl"

"I think you need some good sleep" you suggested, trying your hardest to finish up so you could get him back in bed.

"No more sleep. I wanna do whatever you're doing" Steve sniffled into your neck before placing tiny kisses along your shoulder. "I haven't seen you in like two weeks"

"Honey, I've been with you for four whole days" You smiled at his drugged thoughts.

"I haven't seen you in six yearssss" he slurred.

"We only met three years ago" a giggle slipped past your lips.

"Nooooo. It's been at least 10. I've known you since two life times ago. Promise" He placed a kiss on your cheek. "Every second without you feels like a lifetime."

"I'll take your word for it" You brought your mug to your lips and took a long sip.

"Why have you been in bed with me for four years, pretty girl?"

"Days" you corrected. "Because you don't feel good, and I'm trying to make you feel better." You placed your mug down on the counter before turning around so you could face him.

"You've been taking care of me for four whole days?!" He questioned.

His eyelids were heavy and his expression was weary. A pretty shade of pink painted his cheeks and the top of his chapped nose while his hair stuck out in a million different directions. The soft stubble growing along his bold jaw and upper lip was coming in and filling out which was a rarity with Steve. He always kept his face cleanly shaved in attempts to keep up with public image and old fashioned habits.

You couldn't even help but to smile at how cute he was, even drugged out of his mind.

"Mhm" You grinned.

"Wow. Woooooooowwww! I'm ssssoo lucky" He threw his head back with a huge smile, the first time he smiled in days. "You must really love me. Like. A lot."

"I do" You confirmed while trying to fix his hair. "I love you a whole bunch"

"Tomorrow I'm going to go buy you flowers" he stated proudly.

"No you're not" You gently denied. "Tomorrow you have to rest so you feel better, remember?"

"But I have to" He wined with a poked out bottom lip in the most pathetic pout you've ever seen.

"Why do you have to?"

"Because my mother always told me that I have to buy pretty flowers for even prettier girls or else they'll run off. I don't want you to leave me." He explained.

"I'd never leave you" You reassured him, trying to take it as seriously as he was. Your thumbs made their way to the very corners of his pouted lips, and stretched them up into a grin. "I promise, I know you love me. I don't need flowers to know that"

"Really? You promise?"

"I promise" You confirmed with a small nod. "You look like you aren't feeling good, do you want to go back to bed now?"

"I feel fine" He denied. "Don'tcha worry your cute little face about me."

You lifted your hand and pressed your palm against his forehead. "But, honey, you're hot. You're practically burning up"

"Why thank you" He smirked.

"I meant your temperature" You chuckled until you realized that his face fell into another pathetic pout.

"I'm ugly?" He asked sadly.

"What? No- baby you're the handsomest man I've ever seen. All I'm trying to tell you is that you have a fever."

"Oh" He perked up. "Yeah, I really don't feel good" His head dropped back into the crook of your neck. "Should probably go to bed, but I don't wanna"

"Why not?"

"Cause I want cuddles from my pretty princess"

"I can give you cuddles in bed" You tried reasoning with him while drawing shapes into his bare back.

"You smell so good" You could feel his smile against your skin. "And you're so pretty. And warm. It's so cold"

"How about we get under the blankets to warm you up?" You desperately tried reasoning with him.

"I have a blanket right here, see? We're sharing it." Steve readjusted then blanket so it was tighter around the two of you. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I took a shower- washed my hair" You told him with a grin. His lack of self support caused his weight to push your back into the counter while his front leaned into yours.

"Without me? That's so mean"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up"

"But I'm here now" He proudly stated.

"I'm so happy you're here. But do you know where I want to go?" You asked, hoping you could trick him.

"Where do you wanna go? I'll go aaaaanywhere with you. I can even start up the quinjet if you want" He lifted his head to look at your face again.

"I want to go to bed"

"Awww s'my angel so sleepy?" He questioned sweetly with a higher pitched tone as if you were the tiniest puppy he had ever seen. "Let's get you cozy"

He unraveled himself from his spot then grabbed your hand and brought you back into the bedroom. To your surprise, he got into bed with no complaints.

Without saying a word, the two of you found your spots exactly where you were. Bodies becoming one, tangled into endless blankets, his head on your chest, and his weight pushing you deeper into the plush mattress. You pressed play again on Snow White and Steve pressed a little kiss just below your collar bone as a token of appreciation.

One hand on his smooth back, the other forever tangled into his silky blonde hair.

"Do you feel sick too?" Steve practically whispered after almost ten minutes of silence.

"No, honey, I'm feeling okay"

"Okay, I'm so happy you don't feel like this" He squeezed his eyes closed and nestled his cheek into the cotton of your shirt. "I don't want to feel like this anymore"

The statement brought a genuine pain to your chest. Steve was just too cute to handle, and if you could take every drop of illness out of him and bare it yourself, you would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie. This is the worst of it, okay? Bruce said you should start feeling better within the next day or two" You sealed the statement with a kiss to the top of his head. "If there's anything I can do to make you feel better just let me know and I'll do it, alright?"

"You're the best emergency contact in the whole world. You're granted this position for the rest of my life" He appointed you.

"I'm glad. It's a privilege to take care of you, I love you."

"I love you too"

Another few moments of silence and calm fell onto the room, and his evened out breathing and relaxed muscles lead you to believe that you had successfully lulled the big friendly giant to sleep. You couldn't even help your brain wandering as you had a chance to unapologetically stare at the creature that was your boyfriend.

He really was so beautiful. A sharp jaw, strong nose, and bold cheekbones all softened by a sweet, lopsided smile, baby blue eyes, and a loyal, timeless personality.

"I'm going to go buy you flowers tomorrow" His voice ripped you out of the trance he had put you in to begin with.

"You're a pain in the butt" you couldn't even help but to laugh, and a smirk formed on his face though his eyes remained closed.

"I have a good butt"

"Go to sleep, Rogers."

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

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Blue Mark

It was maddening. For as long as you could remember your soulmark had always been colored. All of your friends had black marks, but yours was bright blue from the day you knew what it was to have a soulmate. The mark was on your palm, your whole palm and up your fingers, and with how many people you’ve touched you’re sure that you’re never going to find them.

You’re doodling in your sketchbook when a shadow crosses the paper.

“Hey Doll.” Steve says sitting down next to you, then passing you a coffee cup glances at what you’re working on.

“Is that Nat?”

“Yea,” You say before taking a sip of what turns out to be peppermint hot chocolate. He knows you so well. “It’s harder without her in front of me.”

“I think it looks good.”

“Thanks Steve.” You tell him bopping him with your arm. “Could I draw you again?”

“Do you really have to ask?” He asks and you laugh. You don’t have to look at your best friend much to draw him. Unlike with Natasha you see him almost every day, and his profile is one that your hand can do almost from memory.

Neither of you talk much while you draw, he just watches the people in the park, occasionally looks at you while you draw. You have to turn his face back a few times causing him to chuckle.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about your soulmate?” You don’t look at him, continuing to draw his eyelashes.

“Not really. They’ll come when they come.” He looks down at you, you can feel his eyes on you. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious. I mean, I’ve already met my soulmate, at least according to this.” You open your palm and look at the colorful mark in irritation. “But where the hell are they and how is this supposed to be helpful?” You complain.

“Why don’t you just do what I’ve done? Ignore that stupid thing and date who you want.”

“You’ve only dated two people Steve and when you and Peg broke up you were crushed. Why would I want to do that to myself?”

“Because then it gets you out of your head and you know what you’re looking for. You stop looking for this soulmate and just enjoy yourself.”

“I honestly wouldn’t even know how to start.”

“How about this. You and I go out tonight and I’ll be your wingman.”

“I don’t know Steve. I’m not really interested in heartbreak.”

“Fine then come be my wing woman.” You give a noncommittal huff and he grabs your pencil from your fingers.

“Steven!”

“Nope. Come on it’ll be fun.” He gets this smirk on his face, it’s that one that you know means trouble for you.

It turns out to be a fun night, you actually end up meeting someone. His name is Tony Stark and he’s charming and kind but his mark is a line up his arm and it’s still black. But when he asks you out you find that you actually want to go out with him. So you say yes.

Tony meets you at the restaurant at 7:15, never mind that you’d agreed to meet at 7. For a while you thought he was going to stand you up, but then he came swaggering into the restaurant. It was kind of annoying to be honest but other than that it was a fun dinner. He’s funny. Smart.

“I had a nice time.” You tell him, as you walk out to your cars.

“Well, you were out with me.” He says with an exaggerated wink, “I had a nice time too.” Tony tells you in a more serious tone, brushing his hand down your arm he stops you at the trunk of your car. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You mutter and he kisses you softly, the facial hair around his mouth tickles. When Tony pulls away he smiles down at you, then kisses your nose causing you to laugh.

You’re enjoying your time with Tony when one day he shows up and gives you a sad smile.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi Tony, what’s up?”

“I have some good news, well, okay it’s not exactly good news.” You glance down at where you know his mark is, and he rubs the back of his head anxiously. “I met her. Her name is-“

“I don’t need to know Tony.”

“I’m sorry. We both knew this would fall apart sooner or later. I mean your mark is already colored and mine was black so…” He trails off and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. You’d gotten more attached to him then you’d planned. “I really am sorry.” He says.

“Just go Tony.” You say not meeting his eyes, thankfully he goes without protest.

The first place you go is to Steve. You knock on his door, and when he answers your carefully held together façade of being fine crumbles and you burst into tears.

“Woah! What’s wrong?” Steve asks pulling you to him and shutting the door behind you.

“Tony met his fucking soulmate. I knew this would happen.” You sob into his chest.

“Okay, let’s go to the couch. I’ll order food, we can talk.” You nod into his chest, unable to say anything.

You end up spending the night, taking comfort from just being with Steve. His arms wrapped tightly around you, head tucked neatly under his chin. Sometime in the night he carried you to his room, curling together on his bed.

“Morning.” Steve mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning.” You grumble back, “I’m mad at you.”

“Me?” He sounds surprised, “What’d I do?”

“You convinced me to go out in the first place and I knew this was going to happen. That I’d get my heart broken.”

“You’ll be okay.” He says gently before rolling away from you and padding to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go for a run,” he calls through the door, “You wanna come?”

“Nah, I need a shower and I can make breakfast while you’re gone.”

“Sounds good.” He says coming out of the bathroom in only a pair of shorts. Steve rarely goes without a shirt in front of you, you thought he was embarrassed about a scar or something. It’s not until his back is toward you that you’re able to stare openly at him. It’s not until you’re openly ogling at the muscles in his back and sides that you see it. The mark is on his right side, right at his waist, and it’s several shades of blue.

His soulmark isn’t black, it’s blues and it’s in the shape of a handprint.

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Crashing Down, 9/11 tribute, Bucky Barnes & reader

WARNING: mentions of death, PTSD, terrorist attacks, read at your own risk!!!

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS: The reader has power over nature (making plants grow and stuff like that)

“Doll?”

Keep reading

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Better Than Before

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

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

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

WC: 3.7k

AN: Beta'd by the lovely @flordeamatista.

❀Masterlist❀Roommate Masterlist❀Library❀

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

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

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

Maybe. 

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

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

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

But this is Bucky.

He’s persistent.

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

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

“Tell me I’m wrong.” 

You’re not getting out of this. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tonight it’s John Wick. 

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

 Too late to go back now. 

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

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

He’s not wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheeky bastard. 

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

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

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

You want this. Everything in you wants this. 

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

Please. 

Please. 

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

You nod, swallowing thickly. 

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

“I-yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes drop to your pussy. 

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

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

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

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

You do both. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your own gasp echoes in the room. 

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

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

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

Oh.

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

Oh.

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

“I’m ready.” 

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

A steady thread of pleasure winds inside you.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know if I—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, I plan on it." 

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Hiii, I’ve never requested anything before butttttttt you have such talent, that I can’t resist! is it possible for you write a (maybe long) piece about ‘Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.’

hi! I sure would, but can you please send me a new request with who you want?

#request

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

MESS IS MINE [MASTERLIST]

BOXER!BUCKY [COMPLETED]

series summary: as a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.

series pairings: boxer!bucky barnes x female reader, oc!male x female reader.

series warnings: swearing, violence, angst, fluff, mentions of: sex (but no smut), blood, alcohol, and injuries.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

PART 9

PART 10

PART 11

PART 12

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

𖦹 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 (𝟏)

summary. — BROOKLYN’S FAVOURITE PHANTOM — after an art gallery rejects your best friend, it’s your responsibility to cheer him up.

pairing. — dark!best friend!Steve Rogers x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. — DUBCON, coercion, manipulation, dark themes, lying, smut, Captain kink, facefucking, deepthroating, oral (m receiving), vibrator use (on r), innocence kink, corruption kink, praise, mild degradation, dom/sub (?), pet names (petal, baby), probably unrealistic, steve has a big cock, allusions/mentions of oral (f receiving), and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. — ~1.9k

author’s note. — the purgatory’s masterlist. posting order is the chronological order in this au. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics

“W– Well… How about this, Stevie? How about I cheer you up!” you propose, handing your slightly older friend a tissue. He uses it to wipe his nose, and he looks at you. “I don’t think I can be cheered up, petal. It’ll take me a few days to get over this,” Steve solemnly tells you.

“I mean—of course! But right now, maybe we can do something to cheer you up?” you urge, clasping your hands together and pointing them in his direction. “Oh, I don’t know, petal…” he quietly trails off. “C’mon! There’s gotta be something I can do to make you forget about it for a little…”

While you try to remember if there’s any popcorn left over from the movie night you had with your stepfather the day before, Steve lights up with an idea. 

“There's something… But you don’t have to do it, of course,” he murmurs, and you immediately perk up. “What do you mean, Stevie? Of course, I want to do it! Anything for you,” you say, sitting on his lap as you’ve always done since the beginning of the friendship.

“I'll tell you, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone. I mean anyone—not your guest, not your boss, not your neighbour, and definitely not your stepdad. Okay? Do you promise, petal?” Steve questions, his face and tone more stern than usual. It’s probably because he’s upset.

“I pinky promise, Stevie,” you go a step further, and you hook your finger onto his. You smile at your friend, but he doesn’t return it.

“Good girl. Now… Get on the bed for me, baby. And don’t sit on it, just kneel,” he explains, pulling you off his lap and standing up. You immediately do what he says, grinning when he gives you a wink and a thumbs up. “Such a good listener. Gosh, I’m so lucky to have you, petal.”

As Steve speaks, he doesn’t face you. His head tilts downwards, and he rifles through his drawer. He pulls out a pink, phallic-shaped object. The shade is vibrant, and you wonder if he bought it for you. You adore fun colours like that.

“Can you do something else for me, petal?” he requests, and you immediately agree. “Can you take your clothes off, please?” Steve pleads, shutting the drawer and walking towards you. 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and wonder why seeing you naked would make Steve happy—but you decide to do it anyway.

In just a few seconds, you’re free of any clothing. You fold your outfit—undergarments and all—and place them in a pile at the corner of his messy bed. His comforter is wrinkled and dark blue, kind of like his watercolour painting of the sky he did a while back. 

“Now, I’m gonna put this somewhere, and it’s gonna make a sound and even vibrate, but you can’t move, petal,” he calmly tells you, and without him ordering, you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve lets out that sweet chuckle you always love hearing. “So good, aren’t you?”

His warm hands come to your knees and he pushes them apart. One hand reaches for your core, and Steve is surprised to find it slightly damp. With his thumb, he brings the vibrator to life and places it on the highest setting, not caring to get you prepared for it.

You let out a gasp that sounds like a moan from the sudden vibrations at your core. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you’re so confused. You lean forward just a bit and finally open your eyes, looking up at steve. 

“Shh—It’s okay, petal. It’s nothing bad,” he soothes you, caressing your face to get you to relax a bit. The pleasure between your legs is overwhelming. “O– Okay… Feels weird, though. Hot. Kind of like those tingles I told you about,” you whisper before moaning.

Steve’s jaw clenches and his cock twitches in his trousers. He’s so hard it hurts. He needs a reprieve.

His hand moves to your mouth, and he coaxes it open. He doesn’t bother to explain what he’s about to do. His other hand unzips his pants and pushes the fabric down, along with his boxers. “You’re gonna look even prettier with my cock stuffed in that cute mouth, petal,” he whispers, stroking his thickness.

You continue to whine and moan as Steve hisses from the friction he gives his cock. His tip weeps with pre-cum, and before the bead can fall and stain his sheets, he pushes into your mouth. 

A heavy weight fills your mouth and rests on your wet tongue, muffling your sounds. But the vibrations spur him on, and so Steve shoves his length further down your cavern. His balls nearly touch your chin, and your nose almost meets his pelvis.

“Shit—That mouth was made for suckin’ my cock, baby. C’mon, open your eyes—look at me, petal. Your captain wants to see those sweet doe eyes,” he urges, biting back a series of groans. Your throat constricts around Steve’s cock, the tightness and sounds of you gagging making him want to blow his load right then and there. “That’s it, good girl.”

Your eyes water from the intrusion, and your mouth is stuffed to the brim with your best friend’s dick. You’re not sure what to focus on—his member in your mouth, his manly taste, or the building feeling at your core. You want Steve’s help desperately, but you can’t call for him.

“Try and keep your teeth away from it, petal. You don’t wanna hurt me, do you?” he warns, testing the waters by giving a shallow thrust. You gag immediately, but he shushes you. “And try not to do that either, baby.”

You nod your head as best as you can, placing your hands on Steve’s thighs to get his attention. When you realise he’s waiting for you to tell him what’s wrong, you point downwards to where the pink toy is. 

“Aw, is it too much for that little pussy?” he questions, but you’re not sure what to say. “You’re a good girl, just take this dick and make a mess on that vibrator for me, petal. Don’t you want me to be happy?” Steve questions, knowing you can’t answer him. 

He leaves it at that and drags his hips backwards, before pushing forward once more. In no time, your saliva coats his cock and makes it all shiny. You try to breathe through your nose and not thrash around under Steve, wanting to cheer him up as best as you can.

But only a few movements in and you’re already coming undone. Slick gushes from your drooling fuckhole and your eyes roll back into your head. Your nails dig into the thick skin of Steve’s thighs, and you can hear him cursing more than a sailor.

“Fuck—you’re so pretty when you come, baby,” he mutters, fucking your face relentlessly. Spit coats the lower half of your visage and drips everywhere, staining Steve’s cock. Each time he pulls away from your warm mouth, strings of saliva stretch from your face to him. “Yeah, keep making those slutty sounds for your Captain.”

You quickly find yourself getting overstimulated from the vibrator that tortures your swollen clit. It doesn’t give you a break or a chance to catch your breath—and neither does Steve. His large hands come up to the sides of your skull, and he brings you towards him.

Sliding all the way down his length, you fight your gag reflex and swallow around his cock, making him tilt his head back. Your throat bulges from his thickness, and Steve wishes he kept his phone near him to take a photo.

You’re the picture of innocence ruined. Tears stream down your face and you’re sticky with saliva—coated in it like your best friend’s cock is. It’s a sight to behold for men like him—men who’ve always wanted to defile you.

Steve eventually lets go of your head, but he doesn’t let you slide off his shaft entirely. He bobs your head for you and meets you halfway with thrusts that you’ve slowly grown accustomed to. His cock reaches deeper than his fingers ever had—all those times when he’s melted cotton candy on them and told you to suck the sugar off.

You’re quickly hurtled towards another orgasm. The band inside you snaps and you coat the toy in your creaminess as some of it drips onto Steve’s bed. Your legs tremble and your body’s wracked with loud cries that get muffled. 

Limbs twitch as you come for your Captain—your best friend, Steve. The room is filled with lewd sounds and a smell that is evidence of what he’s made you do. His heavy balls slap against your chin, and the powerful climax makes you more complacent for Steve. 

“That’s it—take all of it, petal. Who knew you’d be such a cockslut, baby? Soakin’ my bed and lettin’ me fuck your face ‘til you’re crying,” he murmurs, a tiny bit of condescension laced with his words. His blue eyes have darkened and his voice is more hoarse than usual. “Gonna make you addicted to sucking dick—to sucking my dick, your Captain’s dick.”

The vibrator makes your limbs twitch and hole clench and unclench repeatedly—keeping you overstimulated and forcing you to come again and again. 

When Steve grows louder, he knows he’s close. His heart hammers, but not as much as yours does. You look up at him in curiosity, watching as his skin turns a pinkier colour and his jaw slacks open just a tiny bit. He moves quicker, using your mouth as a fleshlight as your moans send vibrations throughout his cock.

While you’ve lost count, your friend hasn’t really. You’ve easily come all over the pink toy at least six times. The feeling is too much for you and almost dulls into numbness until you shift and subconsciously grind against it.

Steve lets out a hiss and he continuously murmurs under his breath. His balls scrunch up and he brings you down on his cock again. He keeps you down and shushes you when you gag too loudly and try to shift away. But his hold is strong.

Spurts of saltiness shoot down your throat and you have no choice but to swallow. “Shit—so good, such a good girl for her Captain. You did so well for me, petal. My obedient little cocksleeve.” The taste isn’t all that bad though—and you have half the mind to ask for more. 

Your best friend doesn’t move until his orgasm dies down, grinding into your mouth to prolong it. He eventually pulls out, though, and he begrudgingly reaches between your thighs to grab the vibrator. Steve gently handles you, stroking your swollen folds with his fingers and turning off the wet sex toy. 

Stickiness drenches it, and you watch as Steve licks up the substance. “A– Are you feeling better, Stevie?” you question, your voice rough and quiet. Your throat hurts, but that doesn’t matter. “Honestly? No… But I think I have another solution.”

“Why don’t you start calling me Captain and lay down on the bed for me, petal? I need to get a better taste of that pretty pussy.” 

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

𝓢𝔂𝓶𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓱𝔂  𝓯𝓸𝓻  𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵  𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

☼ 🖤❤️ 👻 ᴍᴜᴅ (ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ

☼ ❤️🤍🖤 👻 ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴅᴇ (ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ!ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ) ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Ready to Comply

Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: You’re given to two demons when you refuse to comply… but they may just be your salvation. Word Count: Almost 2.7k Warnings: Dubcon elements (do not read it this upsets you!), explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) vaginal sex, possessive behavior, threat of death, talks of violence, branding (reader is cut briefly), Incubus Stucky (that’s a warning, lovelies!).

A/N: I can’t participate in Kinktober and haven’t had a lot of time to write, but I’ve been wanting to do something with a couple of our favorite boys. I hope you enjoy my take on Incubus demons. I’m proud that I was able to share this. ❤️

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog​ for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please comment and reblog if you’re inclined! 18+ please!!! - Banners by the lovely @its-just-may​ and moodboard by yours truly.

Hydra should have known not to mess with forces they didn’t understand, but they played by their own rules. And you? You refused to obey when they gave you the serum against your will. You would never fall in line. And that was why they considered you a failure… the experiment went wrong. 

Keep reading

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

Bucky Fic- Bucky is always having nightmares and panic attacks during the night, he would always go to steve or natasha for help but one night when steve and nat are on a mission, Bucky starts rambling around the command trying to calm himself down he stumbles across the reader in the living room, watching tv, you start helping bucky with his nightmares and he slowly starts coming to you more than steve. and one night he comes out to the reader to tell her that he had a dream, the reader is really excited and happy for bucky until he tell her that it was a sex dream and that he was falling for her and then it gets steamy

you can take it from there lol (obvs smutty) lol

have a great day❤️

Dream Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,625

Summary: Bucky has nightmares pretty regularly and it's hard to sleep so when he finds out that you sometimes have trouble sleeping too it works out in everyone's favor.

Author's Note: Thank you bunches love for this sweet and sexy request! 💕I love the idea of Bucky spending time with the reader and it helping him relax and of course he has to act on his dream...hope you enjoy! Have a lovely night! HUGS! This is also for my lovely friend Suz @musingsinmoonlight and her Any Way You Want It Writing Challenge in celebration of 1k followers! 💕Congratulations my sweet, so deserved and a million more! Love you! My prompt was: "The door's always open, you know that." Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my love @firefly-graphics thank you sweets!🥰

Warnings: a tiny tinge of angst, lots of fun and fluff, teasing, flirting, tension and smut; fingering (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

“Can’t sleep either?”

You scream and throw your cookie straight at the assailants head before diving onto the floor. Your ass is in the air and your face is buried in the pillow that fell with you. A light poke to your butt cheek makes you scream again, this time most of the sound muffled by the pillow.

“This is a really good cookie.”

“Wha…” you say as you slowly lift your head and peek through your fingers. “Bucky?”

“Hey doll,” he murmurs sheepishly. “Sorry if I scared ya.”

“You caught that?” you ask, your shock evident.

“Yea,” Bucky scoffs. “Easily.”

“Of course,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes before they widen with disbelief.

“Did you eat my cookie?”

He quickly wipes at his mouth and sticks his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

“Um. Maybe?”

“You ate my cookie!” you screech. “First you scare the living daylights out of me then you EAT MY COOKIE!”

He dips his head and mumbles a quiet, “sorry.”

You exhale and fall back onto the couch, looking up at his tired eyes and slumped shoulders. You immediately feel bad.

“It’s ok, don’t worry Buck,” you tell him, patting the spot next to you. “So why are you up?” you ask.

“These nightmares keep waking me up and I can’t fall back to sleep after.”

His confession makes you soften even more and you lay a gentle hand over his.

“I’m sorry. And I didn’t mean to yell. You can have as many cookies as you want.”

“You have more?” he asks with a hopeful smile.

You nod with a grin and jog back to the kitchen to grab the plate.

“Want a drink?” you ask.

“Got milk?”

“Yep!” you answer, popping the p.

You return with a stacked plate of cookies and a large glass of milk.

“Thanks doll,” he says before shoving a whole cookie into his mouth. “Pheese arr rlly gud.”

“What?” you giggle.

“These,” he starts again, swallowing. “Are really good.”

“Thanks, I made them.”

“Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised Barnes. I love to bake.”

He takes another cookie and dips this one in milk, humming happily when he bites the soft cookie.

“Well, you’re really good at it,” he mumbles through another mouthful.

You smile and lean forward, wiping some crumbs from his lip.

He clears his throat before his tongue darts out to lick the spot you just touched.

“So, why are you up?” he asks, feeling his cheeks heat.

“Some nights I just can’t fall asleep you know. My brain is just like...” and you make these crazy and wild motions with your hands flying around your head. “So, I bake.”

“I understand that” he sighs.

“I was just going to watch some Chopped if you want to stay,” you tell him as you settle against the cushions.

He leans back, his shoulder bumping yours. “I’d love to doll.”

The next morning you wake up with a long stretch and a deep exhale, feeling more rested that usual. You look around and realize you’re back in your bed.

After washing up and changing you walk into the common room and find Bucky hunched over his coffee cup.

“Hey,” you say softly.

His face brightens the moment he looks up and sees you. “Heya doll. How did ya sleep?”

“I actually feel like I got a decent amount,” you smile. “But I don’t remember how I got back to my room and in bed.”

He audibly swallows and gives you a boyish smirk. “Well, uh, you sorta fell asleep while we were watching the show and I didn’t want to leave you on the couch so…”

“Thank you Bucky. I appreciate it,” you whisper and kiss the corner of his mouth.

His eyes are soft and his lashes flutter against his cheeks when you pull away.

“Anytime doll. And I wanna thank you for hanging out with me and sharing your cookies last night. Really helped me relax.”

“Happy to and if I’m not out here just come find me, I’m usually up.”

He starts to shake his head. “Nah, I can’t be bothering you all the time doll.”

“Bucky,” you chide and curl your fingers around his, “you’re not bothering me. The door’s always open, you know that.”

With a small nod he squeezes your hand and says a quiet, “thanks.”

The next few nights pass in the same fashion. You’re up watching tv after baking and he shows up to stay with you. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you don’t but always your bodies are pressed together on the couch as you sit, shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee.

However, the next night goes a bit different when he wakes up earlier than usual and finds you getting ready to bake.

He walks into the kitchen looking disheveled and tired with his hair mussed and his shirt clinging to slightly sweaty skin.

“Hey,” you say quietly as you put down your whisk and take a step closer.

His chin dips and his chocolate brown locks fall in front of his face. You lift a tentative hand and brush them away, inwardly sighing when you notice they are still wet with sweat. Your thumb swipes across his jaw and you lift his eyes to yours.

“I’m making a new recipe. Want to help?”

“Yea doll. That would be great.”

The relief in his yes puts you at ease and you take his hand, leading him to the counter. You don’t ask him any questions, hoping if he wants to talk he knows you’re ready to listen. You’re just hoping to keep his mind occupied on something else.

“Ok, first…you need an apron!”

You shuffle through the aprons Tony has stashed in the bottom drawer and pull out one that says: ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’

“Here you go,” you say, holding it out for him.

He takes it and starts to lift it over his head but you stop him.

“Wait Buck. You’re a little…just…come here.”

He steps closer to you and you gently smooth out his tee shirt and straighten the fabric over his shoulders then brush the stray strands of hair from his face.

His eyes follow your every move and you love the way his body feels under your fingertips. You pull your hair tie off your wrist and move behind him.

“Um, can you bend down a little. I can’t reach,” you giggle.

He does as you ask and you comb your fingers through his hair before securing it in a low bun at the base of his neck. Taking the apron from his hands you put it over his head and tie the back of it in a bow.

“There we go! Now you’re ready to bake!”

When he reads the front of the apron he lets out a real laugh, his nose scrunched up and his eyes crinkled.

“It’s fitting,” he says with a smile and a shrug.

“You look so cute,” you hum but turn away before you see his cheeks turn pink.

He quickly tries to recover and focus on your instructions. Within no time you have the butter and sugar creamed and you’re working on the dry ingredients for your new brownie recipe.

“These already look so good,” he says as he whisks the dry ingredients together.

“I know I can’t wait to taste them!” you agree.

He gets a little too enthusiastic while whisking and proceeds to send a cloud of flour out of the bowl and onto his apron. You point and laugh but it quickly dies away when he takes some flour from the bag and chucks it at your face.

“BUCKY!” you screech!

You try to reach over him to get your own handful but he easily stops you, pinning your wrists together.

“I don’t think so doll face.”

You huff and stomp your foot. “Fine. But you better watch your back Barnes!”

He pulls you into his chest and leans down close to your ear. “Is that a threat doll?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Ok then. Two can play at this game,” he answers before releasing you.

You both manage to behave until the brownies are in the oven and it’s time for cleanup. You can’t help but sneak a look at him as he washes the dishes, his shoulders much less tense than before and his eyes bright.

He feels your gaze and looks up to catch you staring.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you reply and go back to wiping the countertop.

Without warning a spray of cold water hits you in the side, soaking your shirt and making you scream. You drop the cloth and pin him with a murder glare. You pick up the clean whisk and run at him but he easily grabs you around the waist and spins you so your back is to his chest and your arms are crossed in front of you.

“Never gonna happen doll,” he teases.

“UGH! This is so unfair!” you whine.

He laughs and dances his fingers down your sides, his glee plentiful when he realizes how ticklish you are.

“Oh, this is too easy,” he cheers over the sound of your hysterical laughter.

When you get to the point where you can barely breathe or stand he finally stops but still holds you in his arms.

“You ok doll face?” he asks, leaning his head on your shoulder.

You try to elbow him but to no avail and he just laughs more.

“I’m FINE!” you huff. “But I shouldn’t share any brownies with you!”

“AW! You have to! I helped ya make ‘em!” he exclaims.

He loosens his grip and you spin in his arms, holding up the whisk.

“You still have that?” he laughs.

“Yea, I was hoping to bop you at least once,” you explain as you try to hit him with it.

He closes his metal fingers around your wrist, effectively stopping any chance you have. With a quick tug he pulls you closer, his face only inches from yours.

“Looks like I win,” he simpers.

You tremble in his arms, your mouth opening with a retort but when his eyes drop to your lips you run your tongue along the outline instead and he dips his head.

“Bucky…” you breathe out.

The timer for the brownies goes off and you jump.

“Shit,” he mutters, reluctantly letting go of you.

You take the brownies out and frantically fan them with the oven mitt, rambling on about how they should be cool enough to try in a few minutes.

“Want some milk?” Bucky asks when he walks to the fridge.

Once the brownies are cool and you each have one and a glass of milk you count to three and take a bite. Your simultaneous moans have you both laughing through the delicious mouthful.

“Wow,” Bucky finally says, his eyes still closed as he savors the bite.

“You said it,” you hum, licking the crumbs from your lips.

He opens his eyes in time to catch the action and his gaze stays locked on your mouth.

“You’ve got a little something…” he says softly, as he leans in, brushing his thumb across your lips.

Before you can consider your reaction you pull his thumb between your lips and lick it clean. He sucks in a breath and his eyes darken.

“Doll…” he murmurs, dropping his hand to your cheek.

“WHY THE HELL DOES IT SMELL LIKE BROWNIES AT 2am?”

Sam’s loud voice slices through the moment and you and Bucky quickly move away from each other. Sam looks between the two of you, his eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. He slides over to the kitchen island and slips his hand into the plate of brownies, grabbing two before backing up with an ever-growing grin. Without a word he disappears down the hallway.

“Fucking Wilson,” Bucky mutters.

The next night it’s Bucky you find in the kitchen baking. You shuffle in, your old, oversized tee shirt hanging off your shoulder and your pink lace panties visible through the thin fabric.

The moment you round the corner his eyes are on you, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin.

“Hey,” he swallows.

“Hi Buck,” you answer softly, wringing your shirt between your hands. “Are you baking without me?”

“You really are a dream come true,” he whispers.

Your eyebrows draw together and you tilt your head.

“What?” you ask, taking a step closer to him.

“My dream…” he murmurs. “You were in my dream.”

“Was it a good dream?” you ask, excitedly.

“It was the best dream I’ve ever had,” he answers, putting down the spatula.

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you!” you sing.

He turns toward you and moves into your space, crowding your against the counter.

“Thanks,” he says, lightly grazing his fingers down your arm.

You try to keep your body from responding but his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“How come you’re awake then?” you ask through a shaky breath.

“Well, it was such a good dream that when I woke up I couldn’t go back to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

He tilts his head and lightly skims his lips over your temple.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say.

“Don’t ya wanna know what it was about baby doll?”

He pulls back to look at you and you nod, trying to concentrate on the words falling from his lips rather than his hard body pressed to yours.

“Well, it all started kinda like this. We were up in the middle of the night and we were baking something. I don’t even remember what it was.”

“Uh huh,” you say, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.

“But you weren’t wearing this,” he smirks, rubbing your thin tee shirt between his fingertips. “You were wearing my Henley and…”

His hand dips lower and he lifts the hem of your shirt, stopping long enough to make sure there is no apprehension in your eyes.

“Bucky please,” you whimper, giving him all he needs.

With teasing movements, he lifts the shirt high enough to reveal your pink panties.

“You definitely weren’t wearing these,” he croons.

“What was I…”

“Nothing,” he interrupts as he hooks his finger into the lace at your hip.

“Then what happened?” you ask him, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

“Then…” he starts, dipping his head close enough to gently run his nose along your skin.

His lips press to yours and he coaxes the softest sounds from the back of your throat before deepening the kiss and swallowing your moans. Long and nimble fingers tease the edge of your panties before slipping lower.

With a hiss against your lips, he slides his fingers through the wetness between your legs, parting your folds and rubbing your clit in slow circles.

Your back arches and you press yourself into him, letting your legs fall open. His metal hand cradles the back of your neck and he angles your head back, exposing the delicate column and kissing along the length of it.

“And then?” you gasp, feeling the light press of his finger.

He hums against your skin as his lips move across your jaw and he sets his heated gaze on yours. He slowly pushes one finger inside you, letting his eyes close just long enough to savor the feel before he opens them again and pushes a second one in.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to show you everything I did.”

You clench around his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand in a desperate plea for more.

“Oh fuck, baby doll, you feel better than anything I could ever dream of.”

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @hiddles-rose @hiddles-and-skittles @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @lookiamtrying @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @rebel-stardust @turbolisedcomet @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @loki-laufeyson-1054 @seitmai @justile @bb-skyrunner

[sergeantrosabellaswan]

[bag of tricks masterlist]

⚘ = 1k+ notes

* = 18+ only

[starting point]

Artichokes - 2 months in and you finally make a friend. ⚘

Fuckin’ Teamwork - If anything tethered you to the world, it was the sound of Bucky’s exasperation. ⚘ &Fuckin’ Legit - follow up to Teamwork. ⚘

[silly moments]

Poetry -  You could be a poet if the world was pear-shaped and upside down.

Crunchy - Bucky usurps Steve’s title of Dorito.

Interrogation 101 - “The field where she grows her fucks is BARREN”  ⚘

Hang Loose - (”Surfin’ USA” by the Beach Boys comes on)

Fox News - ….is misleading

Calm - Bucky no likey.

Hole - That’s the last time he tries to help you.

The Collector - He shouldn’t have asked.

Safety - Oops.

Spit - She’s coming for your left shoes.

Media Exposure - Press conference gone wrong (right)?

Sugar Rush - featuring Peter and Morgan

Aggressively Affectionate - #friendshipgoals

No Regrets - Days off are so peaceful!

Words - He’s gonna eat ‘em.

Shirt - You get distracted.

Bad Dreams - You have one.

Loser - That Shirt™ haunts him.

Cute but Dumb - She’s a professional, Buck.

Ham - Thighs of Betrayal ™

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party - Bucky (sort of) agrees to wear an ugly Christmas sweater, but what he ends up wearing is much worse.

Made - Nat calls it how she sees it.

Prodigy - Stupidsmart.

Unmentionables - How many coffees does it take to be happy?

Fellowship - Whomst the fuck?

Butter - Is not used for cooking.

History - The gang gets internet-intimate.  

[softer moments]

Sad - When you feel bad. ⚘ & Blanket

A Lighter Step - When he feels bad. & A Moment 

Recalibration - When he gets hurt.

Martyr - When you get hurt. & Good Manners

Break/Brake - When someone fucks up.

Like You - When something is unexpected.

Riled - When something is very unexpected (and What Led Up to It)

Killer - When you look good.

Push - When you fight him.

Blue - When domesticity shocks him.

Collide - When you begin to see.

Pandemic - When you get quarantined.

Dummy - When Tony cares in his own way.

On a Roll - When you need a hand.

The Times - When he needs comfort.

[& the end]

Set it Off - When it starts.

It is Knowing* - When it ends.

-

bag of tricks headcanons

-

[others: one-shots masterpost]