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#drummer bucky
ali-r3n · 2 years
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@youlightmeupfinn 💜💜💜🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭
This “shout out” means EVERYTHING! It made my day!! I love you ❤️
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artaxlivs · 10 months
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Here is a masterlist of my works (links in the titles). I always love to know your thoughts if you want to share them 💜 Happy reading!
(transformative works policy: I'm cool with fanart, podfics, translations, moodboards & whatever kind of art you make as long as you either tumblr or Ao3 link it to me. You don't have to ask but if you want to talk to me first - my door (inbox) is always open!
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (Stranger Things):
HomeSteddie Farms: Rated T - Steve and Eddie had a farm and on this farm were a bunch of critters with awesome names. Plus art by Doomcheese!
Do You Hear What I Hear?: Rated T - Steve brings home a mogwai, Eddie's never been good with rules
Nobody's Baby: Rated E - Steddie Dirty Dancing AU Steve & Robin best friends, Eddie & Chrissy best friends, 80s movie campiness, light BDSM, traffic light system for dancing and sex. With art by @lexplexdraws
Like a Mythical Virgin: Rated M - Eddie finds out the hard way that feral unicorns don't chase virgins for nice reasons
Let Me Be Your Man (i want to hold your hand): Rated E - Mike gets help from Steve with making a mixtape for Will. Eddie learns that there's an art to mixtapes. mike/steve bonding, laughter, fluff, little pining, smut (You can find the podfic of this one here. Read by the amazing RattleandHum (@thirdeye1234))
Destroy the Silence (Drummer Steve) - Rated E - Steve joins the band and Eddie discovers he has a thing for competent drummers, healthy bdsm communication, laughter, fluff & smut. Art by @carcrash429 (You can find the podfic of this one here. Read by the fabulous @rufusbear)
Off the Shelf - Rated E - Stripper Steve give Eddie a private show. Eddie discovers a new kink. Modern AU, basically porn with a smidge of plot.
Screw Todd, Steve's Her (His) Daddy Now - Rated E - Steve keeps calling himself Daddy "unintentionally" and Eddie's about to lose it, light bdsm, non verbal communication, daddy kink (or is it?)
The Second Worst Trip to Mordor Ever Taken - Rated T - Steve takes the boys & Eddie to Indy to a nerd store and flirts his way into trouble, Steddie, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings
Even Flowers Have Their Dangers (Series: No One Is Alone)- Rated E - What if the tunnels turned Steve & the kids into shapeshifting wolves? S4 rewrite and my own write up of S5 but with half the party as shapeshifters, smut, graphic imagery, battle scenes
There’s Something Wrong With Steve (WIP ch2/4) - Rated M - I’m not gonna tell you, Steddie, Suspense thriller, creep factor 6/10 and climbing
Let the Music Play -Series - Rated T - The music that plays every time Steve gets Vecna’d, Stobin besties, Steddie pre relationship, hurt/comfort
An Accidental Flogging - Rated E - Steve has questions about Eddie’s kinks, Eddie would like to have answers but he’s actually a virgin, friends to lovers, Top Steve, accidental kink discovery, laughter, fluff, & smut
Drabbles that aren't full fics: Happy Summer, Steve's Thighs, i was afraid to follow, Personal Space, can you read the letter for me (Part two), Pillow Talk, Steddie First Kiss Challenge, Constellations, Artax is a New Horse, To Do List
Art made by amazing artists that goes with something I wrote (eek!): Crabs, Drummer Steve, Dirty Dancing, Homesteddie
Clint Barton Centric (Marvel):
True Colors Series (8 Parts/complete) - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: The Snap didn’t dust half the universe, it turned them into soulmates who can only see colors when they find each other, Clint & Bucky don’t mean to find each other. Almost strangers to soulmates, smut, background Steve/Natasha and others
The Case of the Missing Purple Sweatshirts - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: Someone is stealing Clint’s sweatshirts…my excuse to let Clint talk about Scooby Doo
Through the Looking Glass - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Instead of talking, they miscommunicate themselves into being sex dungeon fuck buddies, BDSM Dungeon fic, miscommunications, learning through bad negotiations, so very much smut, background Steve/Darcy, past Clint/She Who Must Not Be Named
Something to Tweet About - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: Someone tweets a series of photos of Clint & Bucky hanging out and mutually pining, they deal with it by avoiding it obviously. friends to lovers, social media ship to lovers
A Life Well Lived - Rated T - Clint/Bucky: just a glance at Clint’s last day
Make it Permanent - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Secret dating, hickeys and tattoos and a little bit of healthy possessiveness
And the Stockings Were Hung - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Christmas Exchange fic, Bucky's first Christmas at the tower, fluff and smut
Porn & Prose - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: some backstage smut between Mr Bingley (Clint) and Mr Darcy (Bucky)
Bucky, Lemme Smash - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: I just wanted to turn Clint purple and use this line from that meme, smut
Both, Both is Good - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Bucky avoids Clint until he realizes Clint has been avoiding him, fuck buddies to lovers, smut & miscommunication
The Happiest Place on Earth - Rated E - Clint/Bucky: Bucky plays Hawkeye in Disneyland because the actor who plays him is short and he’s real pissed that some guy named Clint is tall enough to play the Winter Soldier, enemies to lovers, Clint in eyeliner, smut
Three to Tango - Rated E - Clint/Bucky/Natasha: James & Natasha teach Clint’s dance class, then they invite him for private lessons. Healthy communication, smut and Clint’s self degradation
A Bird By Any Other Name (Series) - Rated E - Clint/Steve: Clint as the Winter Soldier thru WW2 & the present, hurt/comfort, mental struggles, smut
Body Count - Rated E - Clint/Steve: tumblr prompt hitman meets a sex worker, just so much smut
Friends Don’t Let Friends Wait Too Long - Rated T - Clint/Steve: Steve is too nervous to ask Clint out, Bucky’s gonna help in an helpful way. Misunderstanding, fluff, laughter, Natasha being a troll
Marvel/DC Crossovers:
Draw & Release (2 part series) - Rated E - Clint Barton/Jason Todd: Clint gets a tattoo & finds a new boyfriend/Dom
Sterek (Teen Wolf):
Somewhere Under the Rainbow - Rated T - Wild geese can't be bothered to catch sidekicks. Fluff, magic, leprechauns, banter
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amarriageoftrueminds · 7 months
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I often think about Bucky using ballet as part of his recovery process / art therapy but this week I have specifically been thinking about Bucky and music.
Bucky recovering his voice through singing, and especially through playing musical instruments (for days when his voice won't come), because it would also be a great way for him to get used to seeing his prosthetic as creative and beautiful rather than destructive
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esotericgalaxy · 5 months
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Seeing these make me feral like shit baby let me bark for you 🥴🤪
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fic-finders · 1 year
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Hey! Im looking for a fic with drummer Bucky? He had a little girl with the reader but he was an absent father and one day he decides to visit and they kinda like lets try it again? She also said ‘Bring one of your shirts Bucky she misses your smell’
okay so i do know of the fic you are talking about but i can't find it. I actually read this a couple of months ago (it maybe almost a year) and it seems to have disappeared.
For those who need more info, reader and their kid goes to one of the shows after bucky invited them. There is a scene where bucky said he misses her or something and the reader is like you dont seem to miss me when you have all those women with you every week.
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ohbuckie · 1 year
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he likes cumming on your tits and will sometimes even lick it off you :)
licking it off of your tits or your stomach or your ass or your back and then holding your face and spitting it in your mouth..🤗🤗
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CHAPTER TEN: Let’s turn the page
Find the story here, and the playlist here.
⚡️ 🖤 ⚡️
Sam, after explaining exactly what it entailed to be pararescue, was fixed in Bucky’s mind as only slightly less of an adrenaline junkie than Steve by the sounds of it. “Shoulda heard them all hollering,” Sam laughed, “Cap here launched himself down on top of the grenade after the Colonel tossed it in as a test.”
Bucky blinked and shook his head slightly.
“What do you mean, the grenade?”
Across the table, Steve took a long, slow drink from his pint glass, averting his eyes from the glare that was coming directly toward him from across the table.
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jazzdailyblog · 3 months
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Ed Shaughnessy: A Percussive Maestro Who Defined Rhythm
Introduction: In the rhythmic fabric of jazz, certain names stand out as defining personalities, and Ed Shaughnessy is a percussion maestro who made an unforgettable stamp on the music. Shaughnessy, who was born ninety-five years ago today, January 29, 1929, in Jersey City, New Jersey, had a rhythmic odyssey that lasted decades and touched many people’s hearts. Early Rhythmic…
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ginnsbaker · 7 months
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mastermind
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Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.
Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!
-
You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig. 
Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.
The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.
“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area. 
You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots. 
Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.
You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.
As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.
Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.
Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.
As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.
And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.
There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.
But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her. 
She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.
Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two. 
Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.
As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.
That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.
Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”
“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.
As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.
During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.
But not before catching her reaction.
She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.
You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.
As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.
-
To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.
Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”
You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”
You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.
“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.
“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.
Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.
You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”
Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”
Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”
You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”
Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.
Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”
You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”
-
An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.
Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.
“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.
Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”
“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”
Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”
With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.
It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.
The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”
She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.
Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”
She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”
The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.
“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.
“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.
The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.
“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.
“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”
She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”
“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”
Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”
You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”
“Wait, you write the songs?”
“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”
Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”
“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.
Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.” 
She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”
You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”
Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”
You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”
-
This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.
You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.
You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.
Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.
“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”
“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.
But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.
“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”
Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.
She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”
“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.
Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”
Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.
She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.
You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.
Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.
As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.
“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.
“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.
“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”
Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.
“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”
Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”
Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.
“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.
Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.
“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.
You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.
“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.
She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking. 
“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.
She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.
You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.
Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.
Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.
Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth. 
“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”
“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.
“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process. 
Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.
Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.
“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again. 
The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.
“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”
You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.
“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”
She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”
Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”
She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”
“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”
“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.
“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.
She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”
-
You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.
Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.
“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.
She knows this guy?
Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.
She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”
You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”
Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.
You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.
And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”
And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.
The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.
Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”
Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months
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Spent The Night With A Rockstar » Tommy Lee
Pairing: Tommy Lee x Reader
Summary: The reader didn’t realize that she spent the night with Tommy Lee until the next morning.
Warnings: implied Smut (18+), language, mentions of sex (18+), kissing, pet names (sexy, babe)
Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
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Your eyes fluttered opened to the sun peaking through the curtains. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you realized that you weren’t in your bedroom or even your own house. You looked around the room until your eyes landed on the person next to you in bed. You peaked under the sheets to see that the both of you were naked. You quietly sat up, holding the sheet against your naked body. You looked at the guy for a few seconds and that’s when it hit you. You had sex with the drummer of the Motley Crue last night.
“Oh my god!” You whispered to yourself.
Tommy must’ve heard you and woke up.
“Morning, sexy.” Tommy smiles.
“M-Morning.” You stuttered. “You’re Tommy Lee, the drummer of the Motley Crue.” You say in surprise.
“That I am.” He says with a smile, sitting up against the headboard.
“I had sex with Tommy Lee last night.” You say more to yourself.
Tommy lightly chuckles at your surprised state.
“Did I just say that out loud?” You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- you’re awesome and-” Tommy silenced you with a kiss.
“You’re so fucking cute, babe.” Tommy says against your lips.
Tommy placed his hands on your hips, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. You gasped when you felt his hard cock bumped your clit.
“How about we start the morning off the right way?” He suggests.
“Mhmm, yes please!” You hummed against his lips.
Nonetheless to say that the morning did not go to waste.
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
-Bucky’s Doll
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marvelobsessed134 · 10 months
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This is my first masterlist. Second masterlist is on the pinned post in my profile
How to request, guidelines etc.
Marvel Women
Kate Bishop
Rizz You Up
Kinktober day two: Ghostface!Kate
Kinktober day eight: overstimulation
Natasha Romanoff
Caught
Little skirt
Package delivered
Watching you
Young, and dumb
Need help
GP!Beefy!Nat wakes up to you riding her abs (Drabble)
Captivity (My pretty little mermaid)
Dirty thoughts
Sundresses and breeding kinks
Wanda Maximoff
Control
Best friends sister
Julia Cornwall
In her web
Marvel Men
Bucky Barnes
Honeymoon Suite
Meet Cute
“Want me to suck your cock while driving?”
The one with the slutty maid and the sexually frustrated super soldier
Love me tender series
Steve Rogers
Sam Wilson
Peter Parker
Tony Stark
Mötley Crüe
Nikki Sixx
I’m only me when I’m with you
Don’t be shy, honey
Streamer!Reader headcannons
Behind closed doors
Good girl
Small town romance
Who do you belong to?
You shouldn’t be doing that…
Sneaking around
Kinktober day eleven: public sex
BDSM head cannons
Somebody’s watching me
Better? Better.
Save a horse, ride a cowboy
Tommy Lee
Midnight Comfort
Teenagers In Love
Runaway bride
Can we keep him!?
Friends help each other
Go team
Maroon
Little drummer girl
Sparks Fly series
Pretty When You Sleep
Plus One
Kinktober day nine: manhandling/tights ripping
Halloween party shenanigans
Attention you deserve
Surprise
Delicate flower series
First time
BDSM head cannons
It’s gonna be okay
Vince Neil
Thunderstorms
Sweet dreams
Please
It’s the little moments
Shades Of Cool
Our honeymoon (part one) part two
Kinktober day one: daddy kink
Plaything
She’s a riot grrrl
Mick Mars
Mermaid Motel
Streamer!reader headcannons
You know you want it
Kinktober day four: pet play
Multi-members
Two is better than one
Halloween/fall headcannons
Groupie Love (Gang Bang)
Cinderella (only writing for Tom and Eric)
Tom Keifer
Did you do that to her?
Up behind her with a pool stick
BDSM headcannons
“What is it, honey?”
Tom finding out you’re pregnant
Eric Brittingham
A pleasant surprise
Kiss (only writing for Paul, Tommy, and Gene)
Paul Stanley
I can see you
Underneath the surface
I fall to pieces when I’m with you
Prank call gone wrong
Teach you how
Tommy Thayer
You’re enough
One bed?!
Gene Simmons
Kinktober day 6: possessiveness
Guns N Roses
Izzy Stradlin
Kinktober day 5: handcuffs
Kinktober day 7: crying kink
Slash
Kinktober day 10: vouyerism
Barbie The Movie
Barbie
Starting to really like the real world
You can be the boss (STRLTRW part two, series masterlist coming soon)
CEO!Barbie AU masterlist
Marvel Cast/other celebrities
Sebastian Stan
Put me in a movie
W.A.S.P. (Only writing for Blackie)
Kinktober day 3: humiliation
Stranger Things
Steve Harrington
Domesticated
Daisy Jones and The Six
Daisy Jones
Her good slut
G!P Daisy x Stripper!Reader
LA Guns (Only Kelly atm)
Mistaken
Cindy Crawford
Picnics
Joan Jett
Our secret moments
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buckxbucky Band/Punk AU
Bucky was so hungover it wasn't funny, the first day of the festival was all a blur of amazing fucking music and clashing bodies and alcohol, a lot of alcohol. His head felt like it was being jack-hammered from the inside and his brain was about to liquefy out of his ear-holes. "Curt, man, I love you, but I really wanna go back to the hotel, I feel like I'm gonna hurl and if I do it's gonna be all over you," he slurred, holding a hand up to try and shield his squinted eyes from the sun that seemed too bright at that moment. Curt's grip on the front of his tank top didn't budge as he pulled a half-blind Bucky through the mingling wall of bodies towards the stage, one of the bands just finishing up their set. Fuck, why did everything have to be so loud? "Too bad, Bucky. Not my fault you turned into a fish on the first night of the damn festival. I wanna watch this next band and I'm not gonna let you make me miss 'em." Bucky could only grumble as he was dragged along until they made it to the barriers, right up in front of the stage and as close as they could get to the music and the bands lined up to play. The current band was just finishing up, shouting their thanks and appreciation out to the crowd. The sound of the cheers and feedback from the speakers turned Bucky's stomach and made his head throb even harder, but he had promised Curt he'd go with him every day of the festival, especially when he saw how excited Curt was to see a certain band. He'd managed to weasel out of him that he'd developed a crush on the drummer, a guy called Ken Lemmons. Who was Bucky to deny his best friend from seeing the latest object of his obsession and affection? Bucky squinted up at the stage "What did you say these guys were called again?" "The B-17's" Curt repeated for what was probably the millionth time since they'd made it into the city. As if on queue, the giant screens at the back and sides of the stage changed to the band's name, B-17's lighting up in giant white graphics as music started blasting through the speakers. Bucky couldn't help the smile that Curt's enthusiastic whooping caused, but his smile faded slightly when he looked up onto the stage as the band started filtering out, five guys running out onto it to get to their positions. He felt his jaw go slack at the sight of the guy who grabbed the mic, piercing blue eyes that Bucky was actually close enough to see scanning out at the hundreds of people in the crowd, a blinding perfect smile splitting his face as a hand came up to brush unruly dark blond hair out of his face. The guy looked like a fucking angel. Tattoos peaked out slightly from the sleeves of a blue overshirt. Bucky couldn't hear a damn word that was being said as the guy started speaking to the crowd, grin never wavering. "See something you like there, Bucky?" Curt teased knowingly from beside him. He didn't have to look at his friend to see the playful smirk that was on his best friend's face. When the guy started singing though, a deep and absolutely perfect voice projecting from the giant speakers on either side of the stage, all Bucky could think was Ohhhhh fuck...
This is gonna go into my slowly growing WIP folder now, so get ready for me to absolutely brainrot over this now in between writing and contunuing Game of Survival (it will be continued, so don't stress, it's my first baby, it's not being abandoned 😂😂)
BONUS the song that Buck would end up writing and performing on stage for Bucky in the future:
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sonnetsoncanvas · 11 months
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Mess it up : pt 5
Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can
Part of the Mess it up series
Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)
Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?
Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams
Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading!
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Chapter 5
Pull myself together, you can watch it happen
Reader POV
It’s been a long time since you dated. Too long, your friends might argue.
But how could you have explained to them that you were scared.
Scared that you will end up giving your heart to another man, again.
Scared that he will shatter it to pieces, again.
Scared that you will never be able to get those pieces together and make yourself whole, again.
So, you did what you did best. Lie. Put on a mask of indifference and make excuses. You’re too busy, there’s too much to do, you cannot afford a distraction. And it worked.
But now, after what happened last night, you needed a distraction. You needed something, someone to take your mind off those six feet of muscle and metal, before you ruin yourself, again.
And here you are, talking to Pietro Maximoff.
He was the twin brother of Wanda Maximoff, the drummer for “The Avengers” and a friend of Steve’s from his music school. Coincidentally he started his Master’s programme at Harvard around the same time you started your law, and it was through Steve you both connected. That and you ran in the same circles made you friendly acquaintances who hung out a bunch of times over the years.
He was a fun, outgoing man, unanticipatedly intelligent. You liked him, but not enough to agree to go out with the few times he did ask you. you weren’t ready to date anyway, and even if you were, you sure as hell wouldn’t go for a reckless womanizer like Pietro, who was notorious all over the campus for his flirting skills.
But maybe that’s what you required right now. A fun, reckless fling without any responsibilities or emotional attachments. And when Natasha happened to mention that Pietro was in the city for a project, you took it as a sign and texted him.
You had no compunctions about making the first move, you took what you wanted, when you wanted it.
He was enthusiastic about your offer to meet up, and so you, Y/N Rogers, dressed up to go out on a date for the first time in four years.
Bucky POV.
Advertisement shoots were going to be the death of him. Bucky was never good at standing still and holding his smile for an extended amount of time, but since “the camera loved him” according to Tony, the Band’s manager, here he was, struck in an endless day of flashes and posing.
But as he started for home at the end of the day, his fatigue seemed to melt away at the thought of seeing you. the past few days had been magical. You had started talking to him, and not just stilted monosyllabic answers, hour long conversations. You even went with him to the farmers market to get groceries. He had never thought that walking through an overcrowded marketplace in sweltering heat would make him this giddy, but here he was. You weren’t in a place to rekindle what you had in the past as of now, but a guy could dream.
he stopped the car on the way home to get you some mangoes. You had already finished the ones Steve bought for you. Maybe today he could make a smoothie for you. maybe pick out an action movie and make an evening out of it. Bucky wasn’t a fan of those, preferring to stick to rom coms in general. But you seemed to love that mindless violence, and if it was for you, Bucky would watch hours of it.
He made a beeline to your room to tell you about his idea, just as you were walking out of the door. Unmindful of where you were going, you slammed into his chest. Bucky remained unmoved, slightly amused by how flustered you were. I mean it wasn’t every day one got to the calm, composed Y/N Rogers out of sorts.
Your eyes widened when you saw him, taken by surprise obviously. But it wasn’t like Bucky could ask why. the speech function of his brain was again unresponsive as he took you in.
To him, you were always a goddess, sweatpants or pantsuits.
But today you were dressed to kill. There wasn’t anything remotely scandalous about your pale white dress, it was in itself quite cute, with those small flowers embroidered on the delicate net. The neckline, the length was all normal, modest. Nope, the dress was not the extraordinary part.
It was the way you left your hair open, cascading down your back and shoulders. It was the way your skin had that luminous sparkle that he hadn’t seen in oh so long. It was the way your subtle yet sweet perfume reached out to him, the same you used to wear when you were his girl. He was so glad when he discovered you hadn’t changed it. He had always associated that smell with you.
“hey” you muttered, zeroing in on the fact that he wanted to talk to you.
“Um yeah hi. You’re going somewhere” he cursed himself for being so inarticulate, but for the moment his brain was dead.
“Oh, yeah. I’m meeting up with my friend from college. At that bar, near Sam’s place.”
“Tha…that’s great. You should go out. You work too much”
You could only nod.
He stepped aside to give to you space to leave, only to look at your backside. He didn’t want to come across as lecherous, but God that dress did things for your ass.
He followed you into the living room where Natasha and Steve were snuggled on the couch. Every time he saw them like that, his heart panged. Because it reminded him of all that he was missing. But he was hopeful, now more than ever, that this dream was now within his reach.
“All ready for your date?” Natasha asked.
It was a pail of cold water on the warmth that had seeped into Bucky’s chest.
Reader’s POV
“A Date?!” Bucky asked, not caring how much belligerent he sounded.
You were afraid of this happening, of Bucky finding out that you were going out on a date.
Why? You had no clue. Its not like you’re together, or broken up recently. You’ve been apart for longer that you were together, plenty of time for any remnant emotion to dissipate. It was logical,
But that’s the thing about Bucky. Nothing was governed by rationality when it came to him.
“You said you were having drinks with a friend?” he questioned again. You looked around the room to find a very amused looking Natasha and a very confused Steve.
“Well, technically Pietro is a friend, and we are meeting over drinks….”
“Pietro? Pietro Maximoff?!! Wanda’s brother.?!!” Bucky thundered.
“Bucky you need to chill the fuck out. so, she’s going on a date, what does it matter to you? Pietro is Wanda’s brother, I assure you Y/N is not related to him in any way for you to be reacting like that” Nat admonished him, though her words lacked their usual bite.
All this while Bucky kept looking at you with so much heat you could feel blisters on your skin. You hated that his indignation was affecting you so much.
Suddenly he turned away from you, your body feeling physically cold at the lack of his glare.
“Steve, you cannot possibly be cool with this man. That guy is known all over as a Casanova. There’s no way you’re letting Y/N go out with him?!”
You bristled at the implication of needing Steve’s permission to date, but before you could give this dumbass a piece of your mind, Steve unexpectedly came to your rescue.
“Bucky, Its like you said, Y/N is all grown up now, capable of making her own decisions. I’m not stopping her from going out and having fun, especially after she’s worked her ass off for so long. Plus, Pietro is staying in New York for a while, and if things work out, then it’ll just be another reason for her to stay back.” Steve just shrugged casually, still uncomprehending why his buddy is getting so protective over his younger sister.
Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you had run out of shits to give.
“Now if completely unnecessary and absolutely moronic conversation is over, I have reservations to keep.” With that, you slammed the door to the penthouse close.
It was your first date in years, and you’ll be damned if you let James Buchanan Barnes destroy it.
Bucky POV
“Pour me another” he tapped on his glass, signalling Sam to pass the bottle of whiskey over to him.
“I am not. Not before you tell me why you barged in my house and went straight to my liquor cabinet. You said you’ll tell me after you finished your drink, and you have. So, tell me Barnes!”
“I couldn’t bear staying at my place”
“Why the hell not? Did Y/N finally kick your ass out for being a pathetic fool?”
“she’s on a date.”
“Wait, what? A date?! I thought everything was going on track”
“YES SAMUEL! I THOUGHT SO TOO.BUT SHE IS ON A FUCKING DATE! SHE CAME BACK INTO MY LIFE; I STARTED DREAMING OF US GETTING BACK TOGETHER, ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT PIETRO MOTHERFUCKING MAXIMOFF IS TAKING THE ONLY WOMAN MY HEART HAS AND WILL EVER BEAT FOR ON A FUCKING DATE!!” Bucky exploded, channelling all the anguish trapped inside in his cathartic speech. And yet he didn’t feel lighter, only dejected.
Sam, however, was unfazed by this outburst.
“Pietro Maximoff? Well shit. He’s one beautiful bastard. Also, very popular with the ladies I hear…”
“Sam..” Bucky growled his name in a warning.
“What are you gonna do about it James? you know apart from sitting here and crying like a bitch.”
“What can I do? stop her? How even? “he sighed, his heart constricting at the thought of letting you go, again. “Just when I felt like I could hold onto her, she slipping away”
“THIS is what I don’t understand!” Sam threw his hands in the air in frustration.  “you are the same person who built the most successful band in the world out of nobodies through sheer hard work. Even when you had that goddamn accident, you didn’t stop. Never once did you let anything deter you from getting what you wanted. And yet, right now when you need that badass attitude the most, you’re quitting like a fucking loser.”
“You want your girl Barnes? Its time to go get her.”
Taglist: @kandis-mom @queerqueenlynn @mayusenpai666 @nothingbettertosay81 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @loustan90 @zannemes @cjand10 @stuffyownswrld
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chaashni · 2 years
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Drummer Bucky is a filthy little tease and man- your patience is running low.
Warnings: Smut. Switch characters. Dom/sub undertones. Chastity devices. Teasing. A great deal of teasing. The 'horny bitch hour'. Face sitting. Ab riding. This is dirty damnnn.
Patience is a tricky little bitch sometimes. You find your lower lip a little swollen from all the biting and suckling it has been subjected to in the last few hours, your beefy hunk of a boyfriend stealing every chance to grab your face, sweep your breath out of your lungs like it's nobody's business and go back to goofing around with his bandmates.
Fuck him.
Bucky's fingers curl around the glass of scotch easily, an arm languidly wrapped around your waist. His ring covered knuckles graze past the hem of your shirt to trickle on your waist, chuckling to something funny that Torres says, absently pulling you closer to his chest.
If you get any closer, you think you'd burst. Bucky knows it too- that little shit. He deliberately wets his lips, thumping the glass on the table with a 'clank' and spinning it till it reaches a point away from the edge of the glass surface. Sam's warning of "Watch it, Barnes" goes ignored as your boyfriend steels his eyes on yours, trailing his gaze downwards, from your lips over to his hands.
Oh damn.
Bucky fumbled around a little, pretending to search for something. Discretion flies out of the window as he shifted you on his lap, nestling you into his chest possessively and grinning as you yelp when your ass lands over his erection.
Way to go, Buck.
You've barely made through the shock of his boner poking through your pants, an airy gasp spraying out of your lips when you find him nonchalantly twirling a drumstick in his hands.
His palm stopped hovering at your waist, streaking forward and splaying over your stomach, crushing you against himself.
"What are you doing?" You whispered, accidentally moaning as his erection brushes the inside of your thighs. Your lips are under assault again, but this time it's your teeth tucking them in, faint lines of embarrassment perfuming your face as you cuddle closer to him, your eyes never leaving his hands as he flips to drumstick around.
"Having fun, kitten."
If this moment was taped and edited, those papery pink dews would definitely be sprayed all over it, because you both looked that part- mushy lovers who cannot get their hands off of each other. If the tape was given to your friends, they would add some devil's horns and vampire red eyes or have smoke come out of your heads because they knew what little shits you and Bucky were. Especially when you were sitting this close and you were a few shots in.
Your friend group called such moments 'The horny bitch hour'. These annoying little fuckets that you loved so much would place bets on who would snap first, who'd drag who to the first empty space, who'd be the first to be loud. And damn, your drummer had some interesting gambits in these situations, his skilled fingers and twitching lips orchestrating ways to get under your skin, both figuratively and literally.
You were fuming today. The early December chill and your discarded jacket didn't hold two cents to the heat storm erupting in your body. Every teasing touch of Bucky's fingers, every testing lick placed on your skin, each perfectly timed swipe of his knuckles along your neck had your skin burn in electrical flames, the cozy atmosphere your best friend had tried to create sweltering to a blue hot raze. Bucky Barnes worked like that. He had you dripping between your thighs with one look, your nipples erect with one graze of his knuckles down your side.
You sucked in a gasp, chest heaving as your fingers shakily cover your drummer's, his long fingers magnetizingly hot under yours. Bucky's tongue was tracing his lips again, a lock of hair dangling in front of his face. He didn't quite stop his conversation with Steve, dropping the drumstick and cuffing your hand under his, intertwining your fingers. With a sly smirk thrown your way, he brought your hand up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around your index and sucking it without a shame in the world.
"Bucky," you gasped, huffing before you grit your jaws together, shuffling back and grinding on his lap.
"Kitten," he retaliated, having the nerve to give you an innocent enough smirk
"Stop it." You tried to sound like you mean it, voice levelled and steelier, your attempts at dominance working.
Bucky stopped on command. His eyes glinted a little sharper, your hand rising to play with the collars of his leather jacket as he gave your finger a final suck, innocently popping it out of his mouth. Another dizzying grin thrown your way. Another attempt to grind you against his erection. Another subtle flex of his arms as he shifted in his place, spreading his thighs. Another smile threwaway smile granted to you before he was grabbing his drumstick and twirling it around again.
"Your word's the law here baby girl. You make the rules."
Fuck. Him.
You were done.
You were glad Elena lived just a few blocks away, the December chill and Bucky's arm tightly wrapped around your waist being the only reason you hadn't jumped his bones right against some streetlamp or on the road itself. You had your eyes fixed on the little light spraying out of your bedroom, one which you had very conveniently forgotten to switch off, knowing you would both be stumbling inside haphazardly, attacking each other with a flurry of hungry lips and teeth and tongue.
So that's how this is going to be.
"Hey," Bucky started, drawing out his words, a little slurry from the alcohol and despite your indignation, you found yourself grinning.
"Hey, stranger," you started, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. Before things could get filthy, thigh, Bucky pulled back, smacking another kiss at the corner of your lips before giving you a once over.
"You should come through tonight. You seem like fun. I got drinks. Drums. Toys. The good stuff." He added a wink and you burst into a laughing fit, giggling against his shoulder.
"You're inviting me to fuck you?"
His grin reminaed, eyes darker, boring into yours intently. He inched his hand from your waist to your hair, wrapping it around his knuckles before he tugged it down, baring your neck to him. He breathed down your throat, coming impossibly closer and smirking at your hitched breaths, his tongue tracing a curve from your collarbone up to your jaw. He pressed his lips to your earlobe, growling low.
"We both know who's gonna be begging to get fucked tonight." He takes your earlobe between his teeth, biting lightly.
He can fucking wish.
Bucky had barely twisted the key in the keyhole, the door barely open and a streak of light streaming out, when you pounced.
It wasn't graceful, it wasn't on point. You hadn't even realized you were drunk till you were bouncing on your feet, your head in the clouds and vision dizzy as your boyfriend tried to steady you, bringing you crashing down to his chest and stumbling backwards at it.
Bucky grunted as you almost ripped his leather jacket off his shoulders, your nails digging into his chest through his tee as you shoved him inwards. Your drummer grinned, easily spinning you around and kicking the door shut dismissively behind him. Before you could pull him down for a kiss, he spun you around again, dipping you down and crashing his mouth on yours.
You grabbed for the collars of his jacket, finally doing away with the offensive material keeping you from your man before you were grabbing his face. You stumbled backwards, blindly letting Bucky navigate you to the bedroom before you felt his hands cup your ass, metal fingers running down from the crack of your ass and swatting the back of your thighs.
You yelped, feeling the corners of Bucky's lips lift in a condescending smirk as you inhaled sharply. Flesh fingers pinched your chin and lifted your face up, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth and exploring every corner, devouring your taste and leaving you breathless. He pushed you towards the bedroom door, his body slotted against yours, movements moulding into one as he unzipped your jeans, the fuzzy material of your sweater already bunched up midway through your chest.
Just a second before giving in, though, something in you snapped. Your eyes shot open, landing on Bucky's hands, the beautiful balck and gold caressing the underside of your boobs, and it's warm pair journeying all across back, slipping past your jeans and cupping your ass.
Why does he get to have all the fun?
He had spent the evening teasing you, didn't he? He had you on the edge all through it, your thighs clenching and panties destroyed from the heated stares and lustful touches. The groping, the kisses. What should have been a wholesome evening between friends turned out to be you hypnotized by that god annoying drumsticks which you adore so much, panting and heaving and biting back moans as the boys throw back shot after shot, laughter and giggles and scoffs running around the room.
This was your time now.
How you both ended up on the floor was something you had no idea for, nor did you possess the imagination to think of just how you both had stumbled down, an entangled mess of limbs and half-discarded clothes which you tried to roll off of your skin, your lips pulling you towards the other.
The carpet burned against your knees as you scampered over to Bucky, ripping his shirt off of his shoulders before you pushed him down, straddling him.
"Woah, kitten." A string of curses escaped Bucky's mouth as you wasted no time in pulling his jeans down his hips, his cock slapping against his abs as you pulled his boxers down harshly, cutting off his swearing with a heated kiss.
"What, is it too much?" You tease, panting against his mouth as he kisses you hungrily, cold fingers curling around your wrist. He pulls your fingers away from where you are marking up his abs, angry red lines springing over his skin entrancingly. You slap his hands off, pinning him to the carpet by his broad shoulders before running your lips filthily over his pout.
"I make the rules, don't I?" You cooed, looking menacingly at your drummer, drinking in the sight of him, all veins and muscles and metal- pure perfection, sprawled under you. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he gulps down, hissing out a gravelly "fuck" before his hands hover over your waist, a charming smirk on his lips as he shrugs.
"Use me all you want, babygirl."
That's what brought you here. Bucky's cock locked in a cock cage, your thighs convulsing as his hands held on to your calves, your head thrown back with each furious lick of his tongue over your pussy, your juices running all over his face.
You had dragged him into your room, pushing him down to the bed and swallowing his giddy smirk as he allowed you to outpower him, complying as you asked him to. You teased his shaft, kissing the tip of his cock and pumping it before bringing it into your mouth, your drummer's slow smirk slowly fading as his face contorted with pleasure. He had his lips tucked between his teeth, his metal hand in your hair as you guided his length to your mouth, the veiny spurts of his girth pulsating under your fingers, precum wetting your hands. You took him in your mouth, slowly, methodically, the months of training your mouth to take him entirely paying off as your beefy boyfriend groaned above you.
Then, to give him a taste of his medicine, you pulled yourself back, letting his cock jump out of your mouth with a pop. Bucky's disbelieving glare amplified when you took his metal hand, which remained frozen cold around this time of the year, and wrapped it around his shaft. When he was groaning in disbelief and flaccid enough, you smirked devilishly, clicking the cock cage around him, straddling him all over again. Your lips pressed to every part of his neck, your teeth marking their trial against his throbbing pulse. Your fingers ran all through his back as you rode his arm, your mewls turning into shrieks as the metal whirred under you, the vibrations deliciously drumming against your pussy and making you wet in a way only Bucky could manage to do it.
You rode his abs next. "Use me." That's what Bucky had said, and you, you were his good girl. How could you not listen to what he says?
"You like this, don't ya?" Bucky chuckled as you whined and groaned, his fingertips denting your waist as you spluttered and crush the sheets under your fingertips, a familiar coil burning in your stomach. Your thighs burned from rocking against his skin, his cold arm lingering over your breasts, your nipples tingly and popped up from all the suckling it had been subjected to.
Bucky groaned under you, his abs glistening from your wetness, a layer of sweat and musk and sex perfuming your room. You gasped and heaved, your breasts swaying over his face for him to tease, covered with just as many hickeys and bites as you had scattered all over his chest, your hair all fuzzy from his constant tugging.
You might have been the one on top, and Bucky might have been the one with a cock cage, groaning and cursing each time he moved, but you both knew who was in charge.
"See the mess you've made on me," Bucky hums as you place both your hands on his chest and fall forward in a heap, a spike of pleasure burning down your spine at the narrow brush of his fingers on your clit. He cups your face, tenderly swiping a matted coil of hair away from your cheeks before capturing your bottom lip in his mouth, his neck arching to chase your lips as you try to sit up. "My filthy little kitten."
You moan into his mouth, resolve breaking as you give into the temptation of his lips. You curse as he sucks your tongue with eager lips, his hand brushing lightly over your throbbing clit, your juices dripping into a wet patch in his chiseled abs.
"C'mere." Bucky grunted, cuffing the back of your neck and pulling you away from him. A veiny hand grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he gazed at you like you were some goddess for him to corrupt and ruin, before it slid down and wrapped around your throat. "Do you wanna cum tonight?"
The pressure on your jugular increased as you nodded your head, a condescending smirk sent your way as his flesh hand travelled down your spine and smacked your ass, five fingers burning over your skin.
"Sit on my face then. We'll see how much longer you can stay on top."
Bucky smacked your ass again, lifting you up and dragging himself over to the centre of the mattress. You rested your cunt on his face, a loud shriek tearing out of your lips as he harshly sucked your clit, swiping the flat of his tongue all through your pussy lips. You almost lost balance, his strong arms curling around your ankles and supporting you as he slurped your juices, picking up everything you could offer, feasting on you like you were the sweetest desert he would ever get.
"Stay still for me." He smacked your ass again, his growl rumbling against your cubt as you spasmed, your face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up your pussy, his tongue sliding into your hole and pressing on the walls. You tried grinding on his mouth, your quest for control long forgotten as you let Bucky and his skilled tongue rip you apart, your breast bouncing as you held onto the headboard, crying out in pleasure and wanting to be good for him.
He licked circles over your cunt, your mouth open and a string of drool streaming out, your voice hoarse from all the screaming you had done. Your neighbours might as well be calling the cops from all the cursing and moaning and screaming that you had done, and you wouldn't find it in yourself to care. Your mind burned with toiled and crashed around, all fuses snapping as everything just descended into 'Bucky' his hands, his lips, his tongue.
"Daddy!" You yelled out when he inserted a finger into your hole, his tongue repeatedly flicking your swollen nub. You coild feel his chuckles vibrate under your cubt, your stomach coiled and mind blank, thighs clenched from the intense buildup.
"Daddy, now?" He hummed appreciatively, plunging a finger into your slick hole and massaging your walls, the cold of his touch sending a jolt through your spine. "Thought you were in charge?"
You whined as he mocked you, his lips curled in the mist admonishing and arrogant smirk ever, and you could feel it despite all the tears and pleasure he was giving you. And you liked it. You liked your cocky asshole of a drummer when he was being mean to you. When he was manhandling you around, displaying you as his object of affection. When he was boasting about you. When he was playing with you.
"Fuck me, daddy." You whined out, shrieking as he inserted two more fingers into your hole, stretching you out.
"Look at that cunt." He started, tapping his thumb on your clit in sharp strokes, each one sending a shiver through your body. "Sucking my fingers so greedily. Kitten, you're so damn needy for me, aren't you?"
You only moaned, your legs shaking as your orgasm approached closer.
"But I can't fuck you. Can't please my pretty pussy here." Bucky lowers his voice to a whine, an indignant alarm in your head shrieking off "yes you can!"
"You got me in this," he must have gestured at something, that stupid cock ring. "So no fucking for you."
"The key. Take it!" You shrieked, half delirious. Your drummer had stopped in assault on your pussy, his words and their gravelly texture being the only friction you got as you sat perched over him, mind half snapped and too intoxicated by the pleasure you were missing to care for anybody else.
And then you were being tossed around, you body suddenly pressed to the pillows, your beefy boyfriend hovering over you, that goddamned smirk all over his face.
"Can I? You're still making the rules, baby."
You groaned, close to crying or probably biting his nippeles or something just as crazy.
"Just do it. Fuck me. Show me you've got something."
That was a little much, wasn't it?
The darkened eyes, the clenching of jaws, the straight line which his lips had turned into, all of it indicated you had taken this too far. This was too much fun for you to back off now, and you were positive you wouldn't be able to walk for a while now.
The metal hand curling around your throat indicated just as much, the jiggling of metal in your peripheral missing your eyes when Bucky swooped down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss.
"I'll be showing you a lot tonight, babygirl. It'd be a show you never forget."
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ohbuckie · 1 year
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I like to think that b!bucky and d!steve lost their virginity to the same girl at different times. For Bucky it was in high school and for Steve is was in college. They find out while on the sex podcast when they get ask the question
i like this however i do have a different idea in my head (and maybe one that i've shared before but at this point i don't remember what i shove in my drafts and what i actually post):
i think bucky lost his to a girl a couple of years older than him when he was a sophomore in high school, like in the back of her car or something. unromantic and he wishes that it didn't happen like that because she was too old for him and he was just in a really vulnerable place and was also pretty young.
i think steve held off for a while because he's just a little more shy than bucky and he only dated one or two people in high school because he just wasn't super worried about it. so he probably dated some long-time family friend and they lost it to each other and it was very cute and sweet and special for him.
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accihoe · 6 months
Text
Hot Chocolate
Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader
Au: 80s rockstar
Summary: Y/N is the reason for the drummer's smile.
Warnings: no hate to Sharon Carter.
A/n: same drill; PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Ily, Jly.
xxxx
Y/N's eyes met those of the drummer, baby blues not as nitid as always. He played the drums with passion, giving his all, but it was clear to the fan that something was going on in his life.
When the show came to an end and the band members were thanking and greeting the crowd, the drummer was much less talkative. His eyes met Y/N's for the second time that evening, and he gave her a tired smile, she gave a warm one in return.
The musician did not think much of her after the show, his mind keeping him preoccupied with the scandals involving his fiancée. He read another article in the newspaper beside his bed, refusing to believe what he saw and read.
As he was falling asleep, his mind flashed with the face in the crowd, her warm smile comforting him into sleep. The following day, he went to a cafe near the hotel. He stood in line, contemplating additives or not in his hot chocolate. When he sat at a table, awaiting his hot chocolate, his veins ran ice cold.
He saw familiar blonde hair, that same large nose, same shade of red lips, smiling at another guy. Her hand was on the upper arm of the other guy. Bucky watched as the man tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His appetite for the hot drink vanished as he watched the interaction.
He felt angered when his vision got blocked by a figure. The waitress put his hot chocolate down and a few bowls of self-catering toppings. He thanked her quietly and pulled his scarf up higher. As the waitress moved away, it was like his eyes opened for the first time. There she was. The girl from the show.
As if on cue her eyes met his. Without thinking he gathered his stuff and moved to her "Hope you don't mind me intruding.". She shook her head with a smile, gasping slightly when she saw who it was. "I uh.. you look beautiful, by the way. And uh. I'm James." He held out his hand. "I know." She giggled, taking his hand. "That you're beautiful or my name? I'm hoping both." "The latter, but thank you, James, for the compliment." She smiled at him.
"What brings you to this cafe? Shouldn't you be doing.. you know... band stuff?" Y/N tilted her head with an adorable smile. "Yeah, but we've been here before. I don't feel like touring to the same spot again. I figured it'd keep my mind preoccupied to come here and dang was I right." He grinned.
"James uh, I seriously don't mean to kill the mood.. But Sharon is here. With that guy from the scandal article." Y/N cringed at her announcement. "I know." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else. Here." She put her interior design book on the table. Intrigued, the drummer took the book, tracing his thumb over her name in the front, before gently flipping through.
"Most trending decor at the moment. And, if you want my opinion, I think it's timeless." Y/N said, tracing her hand over a photograph of a living room. "I agree." James smiled, resisting the urge to lace their fingers together. "You gonna order anything? It's on me." James asked. "Oh no, no, I can't accept that. But thank you." Y/N smiled as she shook her head. James admired the curls that bounced around her face.
"Please, I insist." He said. "Alright then, if you insist. I'll have one hot chocolate, please. No toppings." She grinned. As James turned to get up and place the order, a woman stood before him. A particular large nosed, red lipped blonde, with crossed arms , "James.".
xxxx
Part two?
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