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Sequel to this ficlet inspired by @asgardianwinchesters - thank you!

It’s been a week since The Incident at Bucky has taken to calling it in his head. The day he came home to find Neighbor Steve running across their lawns wearing only a towel. The fact that Bucky’s cat had stolen Steve’s pink panties has been a near constant thought since then. 

He can’t decide if the pink panties are the only pair Steve owns and they only come out on special occasions or if they’re part of an assortment of panties that Steve indulges in frequently. Either way, Bucky can work with that, and has, as he fisted himself to completion each night this week, imagining Steve in various colors of panties. 

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I woke up early this morning and for some godforsaken reason remembered the st*ggy kiss at the end of endgame and I legit upset myself so much I couldn’t sleep anymore. It’s been a YEAR. Damn you marvel, you stupid bloody cowards 😔

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I had to stop reading prince charming since there was suddenly Steve/Thor and Bucky/Jane that wasn't tagged. That couch scene made me want to throw up. But since it's on your list I might give it another chance. Could you just let me know how long those other pairings last and how much we have to see them? Steve/Thor in particular squicks me a lot :( thank you!! :)

Hi nonnie! Aaahhh shoot, yes! I should’ve maybe warned you guys about that but I completely forgot to be honest 😕 I really really really don’t like Bucky/anyone else either, especially with women, and Steve/Thor had me almost noping out too, so I always skip over the first chapter or so. To each his own of course, but I can’t personally handle it either. But I promise, after those first bits there are no more surprises like that and it really is worth it for the lovely slow build and the amazing depiction of friendship between all these guys 😊 Hope you can still enjoy it!

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“Yeah well you think your so fucking special, well your not, there’s a million dam dames just like you on every corner of this fucking city, so why don’t you do us a favor and fuck right off sweetheart!” The brunette yelled before storming off, slamming his own bedroom door shortly after.

The blonde had already stormed off to take a walk around the city after calling you both the biggest fucking fools to walk the planet and didn’t know why he wasted his time on either of you. And now with Bucky’s words piled on tops of Steve’s… was to much to bare, you fled the apartment sobbing.

You can’t even remember what started the fight, but you do remember the recent missions taking there tolls on both of the men. You helped the best you could, but you were just the front desk clerk to stark tower, a nobody really. Why they ever wanted to date you in the first place was still baffling, even four years later. Still you knew something was gonna give.

It’s not like this was out of the blue, it had been a slow build for 6 months now, longer and longer missions, sure most of the time Steve and Bucky were sent out on those long missions together, but you were ALWAYS stuck back home and couldn’t do anything. The missions where they got sent out without each other didn’t happen often, but they did happen and they didn’t go as well and when those ran longer it was more stressful for everyone.

Longer missions meant longer hours alone, and even once they were back all the debriefings and paperwork, you were lucky if you got to see them a few hours each night, plenty of nights you went to bed alone missing them dearly.

Of course it would all come to a head when the stress just got to be to much and of course a fight would happen at some point, both men had tempers sure, not in a bad way, just that once it got really going, it went going until something gave and neither of them backed down if it got bad enough. The mistake you made was when you tried chiming in and that’s when it really went to shit.

Now you really have to wonder if they were just getting sick of it all, you, the missions, each other. You couldn’t see either of them leaving the other though, childhood friends to lovers didn’t leave each other and after everything they had been through you just couldn’t see that happening. You could however see them leaving you and after there words….

You end up taking the subway all the way to coney island so it takes a few hours, by the time you get there it’s of course closed, it is midnight after all. Still the the long dock is what you want and once you get there you take off your heels and walk down into the sand. This time of night no one is around and as you make your way down under the dock to sit for awhile you shiver against the cold. You lean up against a pillar and cry, you cry until you fall asleep right there.

You get jostled awake by someone grabbing at your purse, the pre dawn light starting to show as you feel your purse finally get taken from you, more awake now you stumble to your feet and go after the guy starting to leave with your purse, you grab at the handles of it and pull it back towards you, “Give that back asshole!”

You try fighting for your purse back, but in the end it just ends up costing you a hard backhand to the face knocking you off your feet and back into the sand. The thief runs away as you hold your face. Your phone was in that dam purse, your wallet, money, keys, everything. With no way to call for a cab or a way to take the subway back, you resign yourself to a very long walk home.

The first hour into your walk your face starts hurting, touching your fingers to the right side of your face makes you hiss and when you pass a store front window, your reflection shows what is clearly the starts of a black eye and bruised face and it makes you sigh sadly. Great now you look like shit on top of feeling like shit.

You have long ago lost your heels, you put them down only for a second and then bam they were gone, your stockings are now ripped and have tiny holes in them, your skirt and simple blouse still look ok, but with your face how it is….you kinda wanna cry and scream. You of course ask people you pass if you can use their phone for a call, but once you get brushed off so many times you give up.

When you finally get to central park you decide you need a break. Your legs feel like jelly and sleeping on this bench right now seems like a wonderful idea. Instead you sit and touch your face, it’s more sore now and you can only imagine what it looks like. God the thought of Steve or Bucky seeing your face… matter how mad they are right now or even if a breakup is waiting for you back home, they would never ever wish harm on you, so you know this is gonna be a bitch to explain to them.

When you finally get back to the tower it’s nightfall once more, and you want to die. If you never have to walk again that will be fine by you. Entering the lobby of the tower at this time of night yields little besides the front desk guy who works the night shift same as you looking to you and asking if your ok and wonders if he should call the police and it takes a few minutes to calm him enough to let you just get to your floor. He was a good guy, but nothing could be done now, your purse was gone and you would have to order new everything. You groan at the pain in the ass that will be.

You don’t know why you almost knock when this is your place too so instead you sigh deeply and open the front door, closing it softly behind you. The place is silent and when you ask Jarvis, he informs you they are out looking for you and you groan again, great. You tell him he can let them know your back so they stop worrying, before you decide a shower is much needed, sleep is a fast second.

Neither of them are back by the time you get out of the shower and you sigh just wanting to get it over with, if they were ready to break up, you just wanted it done already, by the time you crawl in bed naked, your crying again and you fall asleep that way.

You wake when you hear the front door opening, you don’t know why it wakes you, but it does, your just starting to sit up in bed, sheets pooling down around your legs when they come in and boy you were not ready for this, but it’s too late there they are and….they look like shit.

Hair all messed up, dark circles under their eyes, clothes even looking rumbled, even their eyes, red rimmed from crying, you instantly feel bad for worrying them, but remember why you left in the first place and suddenly your mad all over again, and just when you turn to glare at them and tell them off, their faces change to one of shock and and concern and suddenly they are both by your side, crawling in bed surrounding you.

“Baby what happened to your face!?”

“Who did this to you, oh my god sweetheart what happened!?”

They fret over you something fierce, Bucky’s hand gently touching your black eye before you hiss softly. He pulls back like he’s been burned but he doesn’t move away. “I’m sorry.”

You do glare at him now, “You should be.”

You both know you don’t mean him checking your wound. You glare at Steve next and he has the good graces to bow his head in shame same as Bucky now. Even when all those means words were being yelled, you not once added to them, you tried to chime in sure, but you never ever said anything you would regret and this they know and this is why when they look back up at you, their faces are full of shame and sorrow and just about the saddest looks they could ever wear.

Gone is the anger from them, and hopefully they had made up with each other but now they had to make up with you and hopefully that meant they didn’t want to break up after all. “Your both assholes and you physically made my heart sad. Both of you have said more then once you would never hurt me, but yesterday you did, both of you and i’m very disappointed in you both.”

Neither of these men are small, far from it, but right now…they do look small, small and sorry and so many things, it’s rare for you to ever call them such a name, but it was true in this case, but…..they were your assholes, your super soldiers.

First you grip Bucky’s chin with you your fingers making him look you in the eyes, his own leaking downs as he stared back at you. “You said some really hurtful things Bucky, you basically called me a whore and that’s not ok.”

His eyes widen, nodding and swallowing thickly, “I’m so sorry doll, I never should have said such a thing, you gotta know that’s not true, your so important to me and I never want you to feel bad like how I made you feel, it breaks my heart I did that to you, i’m so sorry doll, you mean so much to me.”

You stare him down, your eyes hard and unyielding before you lean in and kiss him softly. “Your forgiven.”

His eyes widen even more going to say something, but you press a finger to his lips to silence him. “No.”

You turn your eyes to Steve who….honestly looks like the most kicked puppy ever, but like Bucky his eyes are leaking tears and this man doesn’t cry often so you know he hurts because you do. “There’s nothing I can say to make what I said any better, but I didn’t mean it, not any of it, your not fools either one of you….your my everythings and if I didn’t have either of you….I don’t know what I would do, your right i’m a asshole, and I don’t deserve you, either of you, but know from the bottom of my heart i’m so so sorry baby.”

You stare him down same as Bucky, you poke him in the chest hard, “You can’t keep bottling this stuff up Steve.” You look to the brunette, “Same goes to you Bucky.” You look back to the blonde, “We can’t keep not sharing our feelings until something like this happens. I’m not going to stand for it, for now on we share what’s on our mind no matter how hard it is at the very least among ourselves got it?” You finish firmly.

It’s not normally in you to be so in their face about something, but in this…it was a must.

“I swear sweetheart.” Steve promises, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You look to Bucky who nods, “Yeah doll I promise.”

You look back to Steve, “Your forgiven then.” You kiss him softly before pulling back.

You look between them with a frown before you finally take a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Alright, now….come cuddle with me.”

They look thrown for a minute in the change of the tone but get with it soon enough undressing before coming back to bed.
“Doll we need to know what happened to your face.” Bucky ask a few moments later, pulling the blankets around you all.

“I was mugged at coney island.” You say out around a yawn as clap the lights off.

The duel exclaims at that make you smile, you pat both of their bodies where they lay on either side of you. “Shhh i’m fine, I tried stealing my purse back, shouldn’t have done that.”

You know they wanna say more, are most likely dying from the desire too do so, but you beat them to it, “We can talk about this more in the morning when you both make me breakfast.”

“But doll…”


“You can stab the guy when we find him ok?” You offer knowing he wouldn’t REALLY, ok maybe he would alittle, but that was beside the point.

“Fine.” He grumbles but he snuggles you something bad from behind as Steve snuggles you like a octopus from the front.

You fall asleep instantly.

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Well, it’s really late and I’m bored as hell, so maybe I’ll post a rough draft preview for a fic I’m writing? Still deciding if it’ll be Stucky or platonic Steve and Bucky but whatever. It’s a ghost!Bucky au cause I’ve been wanting to write something about ghosts forever now.

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Voyeur!Steve gets safely vored by an unaware Bucky.

He’s got the Pym particles, a custom suit, he’s got the whole damn thing planned out. It’s perfect, it’s safe beyond all measure. Two backup fail-safe options just on the off chance that for whatever reason he can’t zap himself out of it once he’s done.

He sure as shit can’t tell Bucky, because he’d never agree to do it in a million years - no matter how many back-up plans he had. Besides, this… thing he’s got is a little weird, a little personal, he’s a little ashamed of it.

It’s just… Bucky’s got perfect lips, perfect teeth, a plush pink tongue, and every time Steve sees him toss something into his mouth and start crunching it up he stares a little too hard and gets a little too hot in his face.

He plants himself inside of Bucky’s favorite brand of chips while Bucky’s away at the gym, because he knows the guy comes back with a ravenous hunger and too impatient to cook.

He’s beyond small. The bag he’s in is a cathedral. The chip he’s on is nearly the size of the floor plan in his old apartment. If he’s even remotely noticeable at all, it’s as a fleck of seasoning at best.

Sure enough, right on the mark, he can hear the thunder that probably comes at the end of the world. A sound so loud and so deep his eardrums can’t properly perceive it. It’s followed by a rush of air, and then his eyes lift up to the metallic paper walls above him. One of them bends in with a sound so loud it’s like standing at the bottom of Niagara falls. Four more fresh dents appear in the walls around him, then crumple the ceiling in a way that actually makes his heart rate spike.

It’s like demolition. It’s like watching a skyscraper get quarantined and then ritually exploded, thousands of tons of mass falling in on itself - just to stop abruptly because Bucky’s stopped squeezing his fingers shut.

Feeling the movement is different in here. The bag itself is presumably soaring through space, but it almost has its own gravity at this point. What he’s got to look out for is the way the chips rearrange themselves - tectonic plates shifting, the one he’s on suddenly veering down sharply and another slicing across it. He watches over his shoulder as a chip a hundred or more times bigger than him just cracks in half like nothing, sending debris exploding that is also bigger than him. 

He’s got to grip on tight to the imperfections in his chip as it tilts up nearly vertically, just shy of a 90 degree angle. It’s at the top of the bag, at least, so he won’t be buried.

The divots disappear with that same rushing, deafening white-noise, and then above him the heavens open up. Where there once was darkness, now a slowly widening gaping light streaming in, blocked in the middle by a god-like face larger than any moon  in the night sky. Bucky’s face blown up times a million, every detail enhanced from his bright blue searching eyes to the little chapped wrinkles in his lips.

He stares straight down at Steve, unblinking. He can actually see Bucky focus on him, the pupil of his eye lined up with Steve’s like they’re making direct eye contact.

Except there’s no flicker of recognition. Not even a beat of pause. Bucky’s lips are blocked from his view by an intruder into his space, a massive creature of flesh, skin-toned whirls of fingerprints that are the size of trenches.

He ears a little thud when Bucky’s finger makes contact on the flat wall of his chip. Another slow-motion thud when his thumb clamps down. Soft scratching of friction beneath his fingerprints. 

And then the movement - the sheer force he has to fight against as Bucky pulls his chip from the pile, the others catching and falling off, the combination of gravity and g-force thrusting him down so hard he has to cling with every ounce of strength he’s got. Like an angel or like God, Bucky peels him from the darkness and slowly into the light, an unfathomable blurry bright space that stretches on infinitely.

There’s no pause in his motion. Steve sees the top of the bag, the distant colors of furniture and walls too far away to comprehend - he can barely see to the end of his chip. His only real focal point for several miliseconds is that too-close too-big finger pulling them through space, until very abruptly a new landscape comes into view.

He keeps soaring toward it, heart racing, the knowledge that even if he started yelling now, even if he changed his mind, there’s not a thing slowing down Bucky guiding that chip toward stretching, parted lips. He passes over building-sized teeth, and Bucky steers him toward his back molars. 

Passing into Bucky’s mouth is like going through a portal - from bright and airy to dark and humid, the feeling of exhaled breath surrounding him even without Bucky actively breathing, muggy and oppressive. 

He glances over his shoulder toward the exit, and he sees the vacancy of freedom through the slowly closing frame of teeth and gums and lips.

Above him, those molars descend unstoppably. They’re irregular and uneven, and Steve finds himself flat on his back staring up as his largest tooth comes down around him, the highest peaking ridges slamming down in sequential cracks to his left, to his right, grinding the chip there into dust before he even finishes biting down. 

And he does finish biting, but Steve’s made himself so small that even with his teeth really and properly shut they don’t crush him into nothing. He has one second to experience being pinned between upper and lower molar, the platform he’d been on cracked beyond repair, the enamel grinders around him merciless.

They part again, but barely. Bucky’s mouth doesn’t completely open, so no new light streams in. Just a sudden wash of saliva, the shifting of new chip over top of him, and then another pulverizing crunch that gnashes the chip into a clump that sticks him to the bottom tooth. He’s still trapped there when he hears the deep, guttural vacuum of a swallow that takes place off to his left, the surge of suction that follows it - it gently pulls at his prison, but it doesn’t dislodge him.

The teeth part more widely, and Steve sees in slow-motion the oncoming of a new predator. The tongue he always thought of as soft and plush becomes a tidal wave of probing muscle, the tip of it slamming down into him and grinding him back and forth against the surface of Bucky’s molar. It’s wet, there are long strings of saliva that cascade off of it as it moves, working and shoving Steve out of his tiny divot. 

He manages to dislodge himself from the remnants of his chip platform, winds up rolling end over end off of the tooth and to the floor beneath him - the slick, slippery underside of a tongue and the place it meets gums.

Seemingly satisfied, the tongue moves to drop heavily onto him, shrouding him in heat and darkness, trapping him beneath it so that he can only barely see the influx of light from Bucky’s parting lips. Another chip passes through them, and this time Bucky’s mouth closes completely before he chews - the tongue thrusts the chip up with great force into the roof of his mouth, cracking it and breaking it at the center so saliva and gentle guidance steer it in uneven halves toward teeth on either side.

Steve uses this freedom to thrust himself forward, clearing great distance toward the back of Bucky’s front teeth. If he stays beneath the tongue he’ll wind up trapped there. 

He launches himself as high as he can, barely managing to catch onto the ledge of Bucky’s lower front tooth. They don’t line up flush with the upper front teeth, so he thinks there shouldn’t be any grinding or swallowing to end him so soon if he takes up an audience view there.

What he’s not counting on is the force of the swallow, the way it drags him backward, the way he lands plastered to the bottom of the tip of Bucky’s tongue. 

Lips part slow, and he can hear the sound of the skin unsticking, tacky with saliva. He can hear the almost velcro-like sound of the middle of Bucky’s tongue peeling away from the roof of his mouth, and then he’s soaring through the air toward the light again - then down as Bucky licks his lips. He peels Steve off on accident by the way he keeps his lips closed for it, the sheer force and weight of his tongue pushing Steve down into one of the little divots in Bucky’s lower lip and sealing him there with sticky, glue-like saliva.

He’s stuck there, caught in the folds, arms outstretched and legs straight down. Staring up grants him only a limited view - Bucky’s upper lip stretching out in either direction like sprawling lawn, the very tip of his nose, maybe the edge of a high cheekbone, and nothing else. Not even a chance at eyes, because he’s just too god damn small to see over the curvature of Bucky’s face. It’s disorienting and a little overwhelming to know that he’s beneath even the ability to make one-sided eye contact.

But the experience isn’t over, and Steve watches another chip pass over his head like a UFO, soaring slow motion into the cavern behind him.

Lips close, meaning Bucky’s top lip presses down onto his bottom. As it descends, he sees every uneven bit of texture, every plump piece, every crumb still caught and still larger than him. He sees it coming down on him unrelentingly, sealing together on his left and his right until finally it seals him too.

He’s caught between upper and lower lip, and the upper one grinds back and forth over him while Bucky chews, dragging dry skin and heavy weight left and then right. 

The tongue doesn’t come back.

Two or three more chips pass before there’s a break between them, and something new arrives in his sphere of vision.

A bright pink mound, a smoothed over surface, shiny and as thick as the lip he’s on.

It touches down a hundred yards to the right, landing with a sticky, deafening thud. Then it begins to drag, passing at great speed and clearing too much distance toward him.

It passes over his entire being, and he recognizes the smell and the taste instantly. It’s chapstick, and Bucky coasts it back and forth, sealing him in place with two coats.

He didn’t account for this particular scenario when he made his backup plans. He’s trapped, unseen and known, on Bucky’s lower lip.

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i had a kind of rude anon respond to me after i posted that ask about why i hate marvel. i wont post the actual ask itself because of the wording, but they essentially asked me “why does it matter if marvel has gay characters?” this is a statement that’s spoken to me the most about that question. it’s from one of my favorite comedians, who also happens to be a gay black man. this statement is my answer. it puts things into better words than i can find myself, but i do still have a few things to add.

i know that marvel isn’t supposed to churn out emotionally heart wrenching dramas or life changing films- i’m aware they’re “just superhero movies”- but with that being said, they’re a huge part of today’s media and pop culture. most kids grow up watching them, and because of this, i find them significant to me and a lot of other people share that sentiment. the question “why does representation in the movies matter to you”- well, first off, it matters to me because they promised they would include a gay character and made a huge deal about the progressiveness of it only to turn their backs on it as soon as it came down to it, playing it off with a singular line that could easily be cut out or looked over. second off, it matters to me because their company has a very prominent fanbase of lgbt+ people, and their marketing is aware of that. they prey on it, and take advantage of it with false promises and baited scenes. granted, maybe we shouldn’t fall for it so easily anymore, but it’s not just adults watching. kids watch too, and that includes lgbt+ kids hearing that they’ll have a hero that represents them, only to be shot down by the reality of how worldwide companies work. third of all, it matters to me because by refusing to include gay characters, the franchise is basically conforming to the unfortunately still popular worldwide sentiment that being gay is bad. that it shouldn’t be shown in movies to “protect the children” and people’s delicate sensibilities like it’s something bad and unnatural that is a part of reality that shouldn’t be shown, but hey, we can show people getting decapitated in marvel movies, can’t we? and finally, fourth of all, it matters to me because they ruined my favorite character’s arc just because people read into him and found his story homoerotic. the fans gave steve’s story more meaning and emotion than marvel bothered to, but they got pissed when we made it too gay and threw him away at the end of endgame into a stupid smotheringly heterosexual resolution that makes no sense logically, morally, characteristically, or emotionally. i don’t even think it makes sense timeline wise. and why did they do that? just because they didn’t want him to be seen as too gay.

anyways. stevebucky rights ✨

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(Not for Stucky x reader)


I want to write some Steve x Bucky fluff but ideas evade me. While requests for other characters are open too, I would really love some Stucky to work upon!

They can be set in His universe or in a separate one, but mind that I’ll write in a universe where both of them are Avengers and it’ll only be fluff.

  • Please send in scenarios and tropes you’d like to see them in through asks or DM me.
  • You can also send in memes and stuff on which the whole drabble/oneshot/headcannon will be based upon.
  • It’s the same for fanart too, but with their creator’s permission only. Or you can tag me in their creations/send a link and I’ll ask them.

Eagerly waiting!

Please reblog for signal boost.

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