Tag: reader request

It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To

Summary: It’s your birthday, but you’re not in a celebratory mood.
Word Count: 914
Warnings: The reader is feeling down, drinking, injury to the reader, fluff
Author’s Note: Requested by anon. I saw your requests were open and was wondering if you could write something fluffy with Steve. I’m having the worst week leading up to my birthday and I just really need something to cheer me up 😭 thank you!!

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

Normally, you would be looking forward to your birthday. Not that you necessarily enjoyed getting older, but because it meant you got to spend time with your closest friends. Sure, you saw them almost every day, but that was for work, and the Avengers worked hard.

However, in the weeks leading up to your special day, you had gotten a pretty severe concussion and had been put on the bench by Fury. So, when most of the team got put on a simple mission, the rest of your excitement was snuffed out like the flame of a candle. Which was why you were lounging on the couch, some stupid rom-com playing on Netflix, and a mostly-empty bottle of your favorite wine on the table. You weren’t drunk, far from it. Thanks to the serum running through your veins, you couldn’t get drunk, it made dying extremely difficult, but not impossible. You simply drank because you enjoyed the taste of it.

“Yeah, like that would actually happen,” you scoffed when the lead male decided to give up everything he had for love. The young couple in love ran towards one another, tears streaming from their faces, arms stretched out… you know, cheesy and cliche, just the way people liked it.

With a groan, you backed out of the movie. Taking a healthy pull of wine, you scrolled through the suggested movies and series. Nothing looked good, not even the ones you loved.

“Happy fucking birthday,” you sniffled. God, were you really crying right now? You had just tossed the remote to the cushion and slumped back when someone came into the room.

“Y/N?”

Great, it was Steve, the man you had a gigantic crush on. Just the person you wanted to see.

“Y/N’s not here right now,” you mumbled, your hand over your face.

“It’s late,” he stated the obvious. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you grumbled in annoyance. Not at Steve, but at yourself.

Steve grabbed some water, one for you, one for him, and crossed the room. “What was that?”

You know damn well he heard you; super sonic hearing and all that. “I said, how are you?”

“Bullshit,” he chuckled, handing you the bottle.

“Such language, Cap,” you teased solemnly.

Steve nudged your leg with his. “Are you… are you crying?”

“It’s my fucking party, and I’ll cry if I want to, Steven.” Whoa, full first name alert. You were more bitter than you previously thought.

“Are you alright?” His voice was softer this time, inquisitive and gentle.

“Sure,” you lied with a snort. “I’m just sitting here, not getting drunk on my birthday, watching stupid ass movies that give women unrealistic expectations about love.”

“Shit,” he lamented. “I… I forgot. I’m sorry.”

You pushed up from your spot and rolled your eyes. “Wouldn’t expect you to remember, Cap. It’s not like you like me or anything. I mean, we’re friends so, you obviously like me in some manner, but not the way that I like you,” you babbled. And once you started, you couldn’t stop.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn difficult it is to work side-by-side with someone, day in and day out, and to want them so badly that it physically hurts not to do anything about it? Well, I do. God, Steve, you’re just… you’re so…”

Steve’s lips were twitching in an attempt to keep from pulling into a smile. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Wait… what?” you muttered, your mind screeching to a halt.

He was towering over you, a finger tracing down the side of your face, tucking some hair behind your ear. “If you want me so badly, why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

You started at him, your eyes narrowed, your mind trying to wrap itself around what the hell was happening at that moment in time. Was he playing some sort of prank on you, on your birthday, no less? If he was, you were going to make him regret it. Well… regret might be the wrong word you were searching for.

Surging up, you grabbed the back of Steve’s neck and kissed him, a gasp of surprise leaving him, parting his lips for your probing tongue. His gasp melted into a moan that caught in the back of his throat. Steve wrapped his arms around you, the bottle of water dropping to the couch next to yours. You were on your toes, your nails scraping over Steve’s scalp and the wide expanse of his shoulders, your body curved, molding perfectly to his. Steve was making these noises in the back of his throat that drove shivers down your spine, that made your hips roll, his large hand on the small of your back only encouraged the movement.

Ripping your mouth away, you gasped at the pheromone-laced air, watching the way Steve’s kiss-swollen lips chased yours.

“Doll,” he whined, his eyes fluttering open. God, you had loved it when he called you that when his voice wasn’t thick with desire. But now, it only made you want to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Steve,” you hummed, your lips a whisper from his.

“Do you want to open your present?” he asked, an almost shy tone to his voice.

You wriggled against him in excitement. “Hell yeah, I do.”

“Good,” he growled, his eyes flashing dark. Without another word, he bent down and hauled you off the floor, throwing you over his shoulder with ease.

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Heartbroken

Summary: Peter overhears a conversation between you and Mantis.
Word Count: 1,595
Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, confident Peter, sensitive Peter,
Author’s Note: Requested by anon. I’d like to make a request, a Peter Quill x reader fic where the reader and Mantis were talking about “Peter.” The reader confessed to Mantis that she had feelings for “Peter,” that she thought “Peter” was cute and all. Little did they know, Quill overheard them. being overconfident, quill confront her and she decided to tease him by saying, “but i meant the other peter (parker)!” thanks babe x
So, this went a bit… angstier than I thought it would. I hope it turned out okay. GIF credit [X]

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

“I feel it,” Mantis cooed, her tentacles glowing bright, her hand on your arm. “You like him. A lot.”

You were blushing, the scarlet flaring across your chest and neck. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

She was giggling at the sight of the heat of your skin coloring her fingers. “You can try. It appears that humans like to keep their feelings a secret. Why is that?”

The air in your lungs left you in a rush. “Wow, that’s a deep question.”

“Deep…? I do not understand.”

“Okay,” you drug out the word as you struggled to come up with an answer she might understand. “There are small questions and big questions.”

Mantis shifted closer to you and nodded. “Big and small questions.”

“A small question would be something along the lines of, what’s your favorite color?”

Her large eyes sparkled with excitement. “Green,” she gasped.

“That’s good,” you chuckled.

“Now, a biiiiig question,” Mantis urged, her hands flat on her thighs.

Groot caught your eye as he raced through the grass, trying to snatch bugs from the sky, Rocket close by, keeping an eye on the sapling, making sure he didn’t take on anything that could kill him. Drax was sitting by the fire, not because he was chilled, but because the embers crackling against the damp wood was confusing him.

“Once fire touches it, it should be dry,” he was murmuring to himself.

As you and Mantis were seated on top of the ship, the large moon overhead, that left Peter. He had disappeared into the vessel hours ago, probably listening to the mix tape his mother had given him. Having lost your parents at a young age to Ronan, you knew what Peter had been going through, but nothing prepared anyone when the truth about how she died. Planting that tumor in her brain; Ego was one sick son of a bitch, and you thanked the gods that Peter had not inherited that part of him. Peter hadn’t been his light-hearted and joking self since killing his father.

“Y/N,” Mantis purred curiously.

Your eyes snapped into focus and you huffed out a breath through your nose. “Sorry, Tis.”

“You were thinking about him, about Peter,” she stated, those large eyes of hers drilling into yours. It made everyone else uncomfortable when she did it to them, but not you. You didn’t know if it was because you were used to everyone staring at you, or if you liked the attention. Maybe it was both.

With a wry smile, you nodded. “Anyway, big question. Why don’t I tell Peter I like him?”

Mantis scooted even closer to you when you held out your hand for her to take. You pressed it to your chest, where she could easily feel the hammering of your heart. Her brows furrowed and her dark eyes filled with tears.

“You are scared,” she breathed, the words hitching in her throat. “This man hurt you badly.” In letting Mantis experience everything, you had let your guard down, opened your healed wounds, baring your soul to her.

You were crying, fat tears streaming down your face. “I loved him with everything I had, Tis. Everything,” you gasped at the cool air.

“How did you… I do not understand how you are still alive. Your heart, it was broken,” she wondered softly, those inquisitive eyes staring at your chest.

“It was extremely difficult,” was your answer. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to think about your friends, the love and support they provided, the all-night crying sessions they attended, the group hugs that lasted for hours… all of it rushed through you and into Mantis. And then, without meaning to, your mind went to Peter.

“You feel the same way about Peter as you once did that man.” She pulled her hand away, her head tilted to the side awkwardly.

Pulling in several deep breaths you wiped away the tears, nodding as she continued to peer at you. “Please don’t tell him, or Drax, or… or anyone else.”

Without waiting for an answer, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the ground, jumping and yelping when Peter announced his presence.

“Tell anyone else what?”

“Son of a bitch,” you panted, whirling around to face the man you had just been talking about. He was leaning against the ship, one foot crossed over the other, thumbs hooked into his belt, and all you wanted to do was march over, bury your hands in his hair, and kiss him breathless.

Peter was smirking and his eyes were sparkling mischievously. “You know, in a space like this, voices tend to carry.”

You swallowed around the knot in your throat. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed,” you muttered as you walked onto the ship, your legs shaking with nerves.

“Sure do,” Peter chuckled, following you closely. “I might have even heard you say that you liked me.”

This can’t be happening.

“I’m positive you heard nothing of the sort,” you lied, heading down the corridor to your room, praying silently that Peter would stop following you.

Peter tapped the metal modification behind his ear. “I ain’t deaf, sweetheart.”

With your hand on the door handle and a sly smile on your lips, you spun around and set your hand on his chest, which, in hindsight, was a bad idea. “Oh, honey, no,” you hummed. “I was talking about Peter Parker.”

“Wha-?” Confusion swirled in his green eyes as you opened the door and disappeared.

Once inside your room, you leaned against the door and blew out a heavy breath. That was a little too close for comfort. Telling… showing Mantis your feelings was one thing, but to have Peter find out? You couldn’t go through the amazing, thrilling, chaotic, feeling-like-you-jumped-off-a-building-while-blindfolded emotions of loving someone.You’d done it once, and it almost killed you.

You could hear Peter on the other side of the door, his feet shuffling, muttering under his breath. Needing to put more distance between you than the door, you marched into the bathroom and took a shower. Though the water felt amazing on your aching muscles, it did little to clear your mind. Showing Mantis everything had taken more out of you than it thought it would, and now that those wounds had been opened and your blossoming feelings for Peter had been admitted, your mind was a flurry of activity.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, wet hair or not. After drying off, you tugged on an oversized shirt and had just turned off the light when there was a series of knocks on your door.

“Go away,” you groaned wearily.

The knob turned slowly, but the door remained closed. “Y/N, can I come in?”

Tears you weren’t expecting filled your eyes. “Peter, please. I just want to go to bed.”

“This will only take a minute,” he insisted gently, the door pushing open a crack.

You stood there, your eyes fluttering closed, your heart double-clutching in your chest. “One minute.”

The creak of the door made your eyes fly open, and even though it was dark, you could see Peter’s large frame move through the room, coming to a stop just outside of your personal space. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and it made your fingers itch to touch it. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I know you weren’t talking ‘bout the kid,” Peter admitted, his breath warm on your face.

“Tis told you,” you scoffed, raking a hand through your damp hair.

He sighed softly as he took a step closer. “She didn’t have to, darlin’.”

“Peter, don’t.” Your throat was thick, the emotion threatening to choke you. “Besides, there’s no way… I mean… you can’t possibly -” Peter’s lips were on yours, silencing the words that were dangling on the tip of your tongue. It wasn’t much of a kiss, just a firm press of lips that made your heart stop beating.

Pulling back, Peter rested his forehead to yours and murmured, “I’ve been wantin’ to do that for a while.”

“I can’t… I can’t do it… this again.” Those damn tears were back again, streaming down your face and the side of your neck.

“You can, Y/N,” he insisted, pulling you into him, dropping a kiss to your crown. Even though you struggled to get away, Peter held you tight, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

Through your tears and protests, you heard him tell you that, “The one thing Mantis did tell me was what you went through. I’m sorry that jack-wagon treated you like shit. I ain’t him, darlin’. I won’t do to you what he did. I won’t.”

As Peter’s words sank in, every muscle that fought against him suddenly switched gears. Where you had been pushing him away, you were now desperately clinging to him as if your life depended on it. You were on your toes, your arms around his neck, sighing in defeat at the way your bodies molded perfectly together.

“You promise?” you asked timidly, scraping your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head.

“I promise.” Peter hooked a finger under your chin, gently forcing you look at him. Even in the dark, you could see the shift from playful to serious in his eyes.

There would be no turning back from this, no do-overs, no take-backs, and you were okay with that. You gave him a soft smile before kissing him.

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Peter Quill: @tyferbebe​ @raven-ur-mum​

Thunder Thighs

Summary: You find out one of the side effects of Asgardian mead.
Word Count: 720
Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, plot if you squint really hard, slight Stucky.
Author’s Note: Requested by @marvelhasmyheartandbrokeit Bucky or Steve or both 😉 smut “my thighs create more thunder than Thor does.” Also, this serves as an apology of sorts for the heavy angst I’ve been posting lately. I hope you accept this token, and can find it in your hearts to forgive me. GIF credit [X][X]

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

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Your body was warm; from the roots of your hair, to the tips of your toes, and everything in between. The Asgardian liquor you managed to steal from Thor was indeed potent, but that wasn’t what surprised you about it. The god had never told you about the way it heated the blood that was surging through your veins, burning it with raw lust that left you writhing on the bed like a cat in heat.

“Look at her, Stevie,” Bucky purred, thick cock in his hand, stroking himself languidly.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, thick, throbbing, and crimson. God, you wanted to taste it so bad, to feel it deep in your throat, plunging in and out of your pussy. The thought alone made you clench around Steve’s curling fingers.

“She looks good enough to eat,” Steve praised, peering at you between the valley of your heavy breasts, a wicked gleam in his lust-blown pupils.

His mouth was on you in a flash, his full lips sealed around your clit, his tongue flicking it, his perfect teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves. Your thighs were shaking, cellulite and all, against Steve’s head, holding him there as the orgasm washed over you, pulling the name of both men out of you in gasps and moans.

Bucky was on the edge of the bed, his mouth on your breast, sucking dark marks into your skin, leaving bite marks around your pebbled nipple, sending a zing of pain straight down your spine. He did it to your other breast, burying his nose in the plush tissue, breathing you in. You laced your fingers through his hair and gave him a searing kiss, one that had him seeing stars.

Steve came up for air a moment later, your slick dripping off his chin and fingers. “Fuck, baby girl,” he growled, spreading your arousal along his thick shaft. “You’ve soaked the sheets.”

You couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest. “And we’ve only begun.”

“Indeed,” Steve agreed with you and settled between your thick thighs, notching the wide head of his cock just inside of you for several heartbeats, and then, with one swift thrust, he was buried to the hilt.

Bucky’s mouth fell open as he watched you take his best friend’s cock, at the way Steve was driven breathless, and it only made him harder. “Fuckin’ hell,” he hissed, your hand finding his cock and squeezing.

At your invitation, Bucky’s cock was in your mouth and down your throat. With every contraction of your throat, he snarled and pistoned his hips faster, matching the thrusts of the man between your thighs. Steve had one of your thighs over his shoulder and his legs were spread, using the bed – and your leg – for leverage, driving your ass into the mattress as he fucked you. With one hand, you were fondling Bucky’s balls, massaging them, scraping your nails against the taut skin of his taint. Bucky shivered and groaned your name, winding his fingers tight in your hair. Your other hand was on Steve’s ass, your nails digging deep into the firm globe, pulling him into you harder, deeper, helping to drive yourself toward your release.

The wet slap of skin on skin drowned out the grunts of desperation, the moans of praise, the snarling of both men as your body thrummed, pulsing around them, as your orgasm stole your vision. Bucky spilled himself on your tongue and down your throat, gasping and shaking as you swallowed every last drop. Steve’s hips stuttered as he ground himself against you, his pelvis digging into your clit, sending another wave of euphoria through you.

Later, when the three of you were lying in bed, panting, slick with with sweat, sharing passionate kisses and terms of endearment, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky wanted to know, his metal arm cool against your curves.

“My thighs create more thunder than Thor does.” The words were out of you before you could even stop them, the Asgardian mead still working its way through your system.

Steve slapped a hand to your thigh, the skin and tissue rippling at his touch. “Better hunker down. I hear we’re in for a hell of a storm.”

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Stucky: @itsstillnotwhatyouthink​​​ @autoblocked​​​ @its–fandom–darling​​​ @eshia16​​​ @daiiybuugle​​​ @delicatecapnerd​​​ @phoenix21love​​​ @natcad​ @chrisevans1fan​ @lillwindmill​

Ghost of You

Summary: Steve finds a way to make it through every day without you.
Word Count: 897
Warnings: Language, heavy angst, Infinity War spoilers I guess [is that still a thing?]
Author’s Note: Requested by anon. Can I get a Steve x Reader based in Ghost Of You by 5sos? GIF credit

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

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It was the light that woke him, the sun peeking through the blinds he had forgotten to close last night. The rays were intrusive, prodding at him, pulling him from the dreams he wished were real. First a finger twitched, then an eye, several toes, the muscles in his back rippling as the last bit of slumber wore off.

There was a hair on his face, long and silken, tickling his nose with every pass of the oscillating fan at the end of the bed. With a yawn, he swiped at his face, ridding himself of the irritating strand. There was no denying it any longer; Steve was awake.

With his eyes open, he stared at the empty space next to him, the space Y/N had once occupied. It had been over six months, probably closer to a year by now, and he had just gotten to the point where he could sleep in the bed he once shared with her, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he could bring himself to sleep on her side of the bed.

The pillowcase and sheet still smelled like her; fresh-cut grass and lilies, baby powder and sunshine. He could stay there all day if everyone else would let him. There was no time for grieving when you were Captain America. He had a job to do, people to save, bad guys to kill.

A heaving sigh tore out of him as he scraped a hand over his face, her empty coffee cup with a crimson lip print was the first thing he saw a moment later. The color had started fading the moment it was created. Where once it was an exact replica of Y/N’s plush bottom lip, it was now faded red lines, disappearing an iota more with every setting of the sun.

There were boxes in the corner of the room, half-filled with Y/N’s clothes and shoes. Steve would have finished the job had he not found the faded and threadbare Zeppelin shirt that had been her favorite. It had been Steve’s favorite at first, a shirt that was a little too tight across his shoulders, the stitching threatening to come apart with the simplest of movements. Y/N had swiped it one day, using it as a nightshirt, and it had been hers ever since.

“Goddamn it,” he ground out as he slid to the floor, the shirt in his hand, soaking up the tears as he held it to his face, breathing her in.

She had worn it the night before going to help save Wanda and Vision, strutting around the room, her thighs bare, a peek of pink lace panties, music blasting from the speakers. Steve couldn’t help but watch, completely entranced, a smirk on his lips, lust surging through him, desperate to feel her body against his.

Steve rolled to his back, his eyes falling closed, his forearm draped over his face. If he could just fall back to sleep, everything would be alright. With sleep, came the dreams, and with the dreams, came Y/N. He found that if he could dream long enough, she would tell him everything would be just fine.

”You’ll be just fine, Stevie,” she purred, nails scraping through the hair on the back of his neck.

Naturally, there would be tears streaming down his face. “Not without you,” he choked, desperation thick on his tongue.

“It’s too late,” she insisted, her eyes bright and shining, unlike the day Thanos snapped his fingers and took her from him. “I can’t come back.”

Y/N was right, he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from carrying the ghost of her with him wherever he went. Steve wanted… needed her with him. She was his lucky charm, the only one that made every-fucking-thing matter, the only one that made Steve enjoy life. Fuck, Y/N was the love of his life, and she was gone, drifting through his fingers like dust, her name thick and heavy on his tongue.

There was someone knocking on the door, probably Tony. Steve knew better than to ignore the set of insistent knocks. So, he pushed off the bed and was opening the door a handful of seconds later.

“What do you want?” the super soldier wearily demanded to know.

“Daddy,” came the soft voice of his three year old daughter. Her arms were held out, fingers flexing and relaxing quickly, indicating she desperately wanted to be held by him.

Tony gave a small smirk as he handed Steve his daughter. “Sorry, Cap. You know how those Y/L/N women are.”

Steve was smiling and patting his daughter’s back as she latched her arms around his neck. “It’s okay, Tony. Really,” he insisted, earning a smile from his friend.

“Where mama?” she asked, peering over Steve’s shoulder once again, hell bent on finding Y/N.

Tony’s face fell and he clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

“Mama,” she called out, sniffling loudly, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Despite his daughters protests, Steve closed the door before consoling his daughter, hand on her back, moving in slow circles, his cheek on the top of her head, her hair tickling his nose.

“It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” Steve assured her, following Tony down to the common area. “You’ll be just fine.”

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Steve: @mjdoc90​​ @blxcksoulsanddxrkflowers​​ @hides-in-the-shadows​ @cherrysfandom​ @lxdyred​​ @jemmaisokay​​ ​@phoenix21love​​ @xingareum​​ @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @patzammit​ @chrisevans1fan​

Snapchat

Summary: You’re travelling by bus one night and send your friend a Snapchat during your journey. She calls you in a fangirl panic, convinced that Chris Evans is sitting several rows behind you.
Word Count: 2,015
Warnings: Language, slight fangirling, talk of domestic violence, no details given
Author’s Note: Requested by @woodworthti666 Could you write a Chris x Reader where they’re on a bus at night? While the rest of the people are sleeping, reader takes a Snapchat photo and sends it to your best friend, and the friend calls you, freaking out because you got Chris in the photo. Up until then, you had no idea Chris was even on the bus. For the purpose of this fic, Chris Evans is 100% single. Y/BF/N = Your Best Friend’s Name. Picture found on Google Images.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

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Even though it was the middle of the night, and everyone else on the bus was sleeping, you were wide awake. You could never sleep while travelling; whether you were flying, taking the train, or a passenger in a car or bus, and you absolutely hated it.

You finished the Words with Friends requests and checked the time. 2:15 am. There were still a handful of hours until your destination, and all you wanted to do was take a shower and crawl into bed.

In an effort to keep yourself occupied, you opened Snapchat and took a selfie, the dim lights in the bus doing nothing but casting shadows across your face. Before sending it to your best friend, you captioned it with, Why can’t I sleep like everyone else?

Before you could even start scrolling through your Facebook feed, your phone was ringing.

You rolled your eyes as you answered, your voice low to keep from waking anyone up. “You could have just snapped back.”

“Oh. My. God,” she screeched, making you wince and pull away from the phone.

“Keep it down,” you hissed. Several people around you made noises in their sleep as they shifted. “There are people sleeping.”

She gave a heaving sigh. “Girl, did you see who is on the bus with you?”

“There are lots of people on the bus with me, Y/BF/N. Why would I care about one of them?” Yeah, you were being a little bitchy, but God, were you so very tired.

“Y/N, listen to me closely,” she rasped, her hand around her mouth so it echoed in your ear. “Chris Evans is on your bus.”

“Shut up,” you scoffed louder than you originally intended. The woman across the aisle glared at you after her eyes popped open. You apologized quietly before turning back to your friend. “He is not.”

“I’m tellin’ you, he is,” she insisted, her patience wearing thin. “Here, I’ll send you a screenshot of your snap.”

The picture came through about fifteen seconds later, but you still weren’t seeing it, or him, in this case.

“You’re losing it, girl,” you chastised, rolling your eyes. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, no, no,” she argued once again. “I’m telling you, it’s hi -”

“Goodnight, Y/BF/N,” you grumbled, disconnecting the phone without another word. You fully expected her to call you back, so when she didn’t, you decided to take a closer look at the screenshot of your snap.

It was too dark to be able to confidently say that it was, or was not, Chris Evans that you had accidentally captured in your selfie. Whoever it was had a dark hat on their head, the bill curved, pulled down, obscuring the top part of his face. His stubble-kissed cheeks and jaw looked vaguely familiar, but then again, he could just be a normal guy that had been blessed with amazing bone structure.

Groaning in annoyance at yourself and your friend, you clicked out of the text message, and started playing a card game. You tried to pay attention to the hand of rummy, but you couldn’t. You kept thinking about it, the possibility that Chris Evans was on the bus, your bus. But, if it was actually Chris, why was he taking a bus in the first place? Hundreds of questions swirled about your brain, confusing you, coming up with out-of-this-world scenarios.

“Excuse me,” someone said, their voice gruff and irritated. “Do you mind if I sit here?” It was the guy that your friend was convinced was Chris Evans.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You grabbed your bag out of the seat and held it on your lap, watching the stranger closely.

He gave you a kind smile. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have asked, but the guy next to me has sleep apnea or something, and it was driving me crazy.”

It was impossible not to smile back. “Man, that would suck.”

“How’d you get lucky enough to sit alone?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in the passing lights.

Could it actually be him?

Shaking your head, you brought your voice down to a whisper when you said, “It’s a secret. I could tell you, but then -”

“You’d have to kill me?” he finished, his voice low and gritty. There was a tingle that slithered down the back of your neck and wrapped around the full length of your spine before settling low in your stomach. “What if I promise not to tell anyone?”

The breath you were holding rushed out in the form of one word. “Okay.”

“That was easy,” he chuckled. It was really hard for you not to shiver as his laugh washed over you like velvet.

Swallowing heavily, you crooked your finger at him. Your heart did a double-beat when he leaned in, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I told them I was waiting for someone.”

The stranger gasped playfully. “You mean, you lied?”

“Hey, it got me an extra seat,” you argued with a smirk.

“Which I am very grateful for.” He stuck his hand out in the small space between you. “I’m Chris.”

Well, he’s got the same first name, and it does sound like him.

You introduced yourself and shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“We can thank the guy in back,” he joked, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re much better company.”

Blushing under the compliment, you waved away his compliment. “Hey, can I, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he huffed as he turned at an angle in his seat. “What’s up?”

You pulled out your phone and pulled up the screenshot your friend had sent you. “I had sent my friend a Snapchat selfie earlier, and I accidentally got you in it.”

Chris took a look at it and shrugged his shoulders. “Not the best lighting for a photo shoot.”

“You’re not wrong,” you agreed before continuing. “My friend called back and said that, see… she uh, she’s convinced that you’re this famous actor.”

He gave this uneasy chuckle and squeezed the back of his neck. “Do you uh, do you believe her?”

“I didn’t, at first,” you started, turning off the phone and slipping it back into your bag.

“And now?” Chris raised the brim of his hat, allowing you to see the rest of his face. His right leg was bouncing and he was gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Shit, it is you,” you gasped, your hand coming up to your mouth.

When Chris’ lips pulled into a tight line, you swallowed down your inner fangirl. “You don’t want anyone to know, I get it. I won’t say anything,” you promised.

“Thank you,” he sighed.

“Why are you on a bus?” you blurted out.

Chris chuckled as you blushed. “It’s a secret.”

“Really,” you deadpanned. “That’s what you’re giving me? That’s so unoriginal.”

His chuckle deepened and grew louder until he was laughing loudly, his head tipped hack, a hand over his left pec, disturbing several of the passengers. All they did was glower at him and roll their eyes before turning their attention to the other side as they fell back to sleep.

After calming down, he looked at you with twinkling and amused eyes. “I mean it,” he insisted. “I’m secretly doing research for an upcoming film. Rather than fly back and forth, I thought I’d go for a long-ass bus ride. It helps me get into the character’s head.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” you hummed. You were actively trying not to stare, it wasn’t like you had a crush on the man, or anything. He was just so damned gorgeous.

“What about you?” Chris asked. “Why are you on this long-ass bus ride?”

“Nothing as fancy as you,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m actually headed home.”

That seemed to interest him, though, you weren’t sure why. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, just finished my lease,” you answered vaguely, shrugging a shoulder as if it were no big deal.

Chris cleared his throat at the slightly awkward silence that settled between you. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it? You don’t have to, I just, you look like you need someone to talk to.”

The last thing you wanted to do was unload everything onto someone you didn’t know, let alone a celebrity that you had a crush on. But, your brain had another idea. You were verbal vomiting all over Christopher Evans, and he didn’t seem to mind one little bit.

It was your boyfriend. Nope, he was now your ex-boyfriend. When the two of you had been friends, you got along amazingly, everything was great. Then, you started dating, and he got real possessive and violent, called you vile names, broke you into a million pieces. Sure, it took you a lot longer to get out of the relationship than your friends and family wanted but, you did get out, and you were safe, that was the bottom line.

Chris’ hand had found yours during some point, and he was squeezing it gently. When you were done, you wiped away the tears, sniffling as you watched his thumb sweeping back and forth against the inside of your wrist.

“I am so sorry that you went through that,” he lamented.

“It’s not your fault,” you dismissed his apology quickly.

Chris huffed out a breath through his nose. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

You shrugged your shoulders but said nothing, you just sat there with Chris holding your hand, his silent support doing more for you than the hours you spent with a therapist, or the many phone calls with your parents and friends. You hardly knew the man but, you he was bringing you a sense of peace that nothing and no one else had.

When the brakes started to squeal, you stole a glance at your watch. “Wow, that time flew.”

Chris gave your hand a final squeeze before reaching up to situate his hat. “Give me your phone.”

“Why would I do that?” you asked with your eyes narrowed, your phone already in your hand.

With a smirk, he said, “So I can put my number in it. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

I’m dreaming, that’s what this is. It’s all a dream.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” you conceded, handing over your phone.

Chris made quick work of adding his contact information, then sent himself a text. “Since I’ve never been here and this is your hometown, would you like to be my tour guide sometime?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yeah, I mean, I would love that,” you stammered, watching as he added your name to his contacts.

“Great,” he muttered as he stood.

After everyone had gotten off the bus and was stretching their aching and weary limbs, you sidled up to Chris and grabbed his attention after he hung up.

“I uh, I was just… this is… see…” you were stumbling over your tongue and couldn’t stop blushing.

Chris watched you play with your phone. “A proper selfie?”

“God, yes,” you said, the words coming out in a rush.

With one arm draped over your shoulder, Chris moved the hat up on his head, took your phone and opened the camera. You turned into his side and casually placed your hand on his stomach, putting on what you hoped was a relaxed smile. The picture was taken and your phone was back in your hands a moment later.

“Send it to me?” Chris requested, tugging the bill of the hat lower in an effort to keep people from recognizing him.

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you sent him the picture, and couldn’t keep from grinning when his phone beeped. You didn’t know why you were sure he gave you a phony number. Before you knew what was happening, Chris pressed a friendly kiss to your cheek and was bidding you goodbye.

“My ride’s here. I’ll call you,” he promised.

And then, he was gone, leaving you standing there, your phone clutched in your hands, and a grin on your face.

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Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @badassbaker @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters  @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @iwillwakeherinthemorning @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmumreads @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @sexyvixen7 @whope123 @mscaptainjones @awkward-walking-potato @memory-of-a-goldfish @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @minarawr @xserenax-13 @andiyholly @averyrogers83 @bionic-buckyb @princess76179 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @female-accountant @whitemoonstag @xxashy999xx @coffeewithjake @nerdgirljen @everythingisoverrated @angelsofalliteration @walkingtravesty97 @jbarnes87 @akamaiden @part-time-patronus @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes @emmawatsonbelle @joannie95 @almighty-rogers @jamesbbbarnes-blog @buckysothiccbarnes @paintballkid711 @nerdsnotes @cxptain-bxcky @letsdisneythings @buckystan-plums @brastrangled @jessica-bones-winchester @iamthemaskhewears @wheresthekillswitch @chonisberonica @tsukuyomi011 @xtina2191

Chris Evans: @chrisevans1fan @joannie95 @nerdgirljen @averyrogers83

Toxic

Summary: You and Steve get into an argument while on a mission, putting your lives in jeopardy.
Word Count: 2,121
Warnings: Language, angst, heavy kissing
Author’s Note: Requested by @natalienicole12347 The reader and Steve hate each other. They go on a mission where a crazy HYDRA scientist was working on a gas that, when inhaled, was supposed to kill. However, it seems to do nothing until they get back to the tower. GIF credit [X]

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

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Making your way through a HYDRA base, trailing behind Steve Rogers, Captain friggin’ America, wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend your day. Despite the fact that the two of you were eerily similar, you couldn’t stand each other. Being in the same room usually meant that you were in each other’s faces, yelling until you were red in the face, while someone – more than likely Nat or Bucky – kept you two from tearing each other apart.

“Would you keep it down?” Steve hissed, glaring at you over his shoulder. “We can’t retain the upper hand if they hear us coming.”

You stuck your tongue out at the super soldier, rolling your eyes once he looked away. It wasn’t your fault there was debris everywhere. “Not everyone has our super sonic hearing, Steve.”

“It’s a good thing they don’t. If they did, we’d be dead. Now zip it.” His head shook once in frustration. “Maybe if you worked on your stealth, you wouldn’t need to be told to keep it down.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about?” you snapped, your voice a harsh whisper. “You’re pissed because I ditched your class. Get over yourself, Rogers.”

Steve sighed heavily, stopping so fast you almost slammed into his back. “It’s mandatory, Barton,” he lamented as he turned, towering over you. “Fury said -”

“It’s just a class,” you groaned, your arm falling to your side, weapon slapping against your thigh.

“A class that could keep you alive,” Steve insisted slightly louder than before.

“Oh, my God. Fine, I’ll go to your fucking class,” you snapped. You had promised Natasha you wouldn’t pick a fight on this mission, and what’s the first thing you do?

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like a child, Y/N. It’s unprofessional and inappropriate. If you don’t want to be here, go, leave. Don’t let the door hit ya.”

“And give you what you want? Fat chance,” you laughed.

“Staying out of spite is only gonna get you killed,” he said, his tone dark and gritty.

You were prepared to launch into a tirade, but there was movement off to the right. “Get down,” you screamed at Steve, raising your weapon to defend yourself, but whoever it was had the upper hand and used it to their advantage.

Noxious gas surrounded the pair of you, filled your nostrils, made your lungs squeeze, made your mouth water. You were bent at the waist, covering your mouth and coughing, your eyes filling with tears. You were getting lightheaded and it felt as if the floor was shifting underfoot.

“Come on. We can’t stay,” Steve rasped, his arm around you, half-dragging you out of the facility.

Once outside, you dropped to your knees and gasped at the cool, smoke-free air. Your lungs were still seizing, working to rid themselves of the toxic substance. Steve was next to you, in the same condition you were, his eyes filled with panic. Thank God for the serum flowing through your veins.

There were shouts and a stampede of footfalls headed your way. Knowing you probably wouldn’t survive a bullet to the brain, you and Steve hauled ass to the quinjet and flew away just as the men in pursuit broke through the treeline.

FRIDAY was at the helm, driving the quinjet, going into stealth mode. “Everything alright, Captain?”

“Mission aborted,” he coughed harshly, ripping the cowl from his head. “Alert medical, two inbound, gas inhalation.”

“And Agent Barton? Is she alright?” the AI inquired.

You were fumbling with the knobs on an oxygen tank that was secured to the wall. “I’m here,” you gasped, raising the mask to your mouth.

Steve followed suit but, instead of sitting next to you, he pressed a hand to the wall, hunched his shoulders, and bent his head as the oxygen hissed softly through the tube. It was hard enough to read him on a normal day, let alone when there was toxic gas in his system. So, rather than saying something stupid, you kept your mouth shut – figuratively – until after the quinjet had landed and medical staff was rushing up the ramp.

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“Quarantine?” you hollered, hands balled into fists at your sides.

Bruce gave you what he considered a reassuring smile. “Just until the toxins are out of your systems.”

Steve gave an annoyed huff and was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on, Banner, we’re perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Bruce argued. “The two of you inhaled some pretty nasty stuff out there. You’re lucky it didn’t kill you.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” you grumbled under your breath.

“Fine,” Bruce quasi-agreed with you, pulling off his glasses. “Thanks to the super serum pumping through your veins, you won’t die. Unlike the hundreds of millions of people that will when the gas is released.” Without another word, he turned around and walked out, the door slamming behind him.

With a grunt, you slapped the wall, hissing as pain erupted in your palm. “Son of a -”

“The serum is busy trying to get rid of the gas,” Steve explained.

You rolled your eyes as you rubbed your hand. “I know that.”

“Plus, the walls are lined with vibranium,” he added, his tone flat and unamused.

“I know that, too, Steve,” you snapped, turning to storm away.

“We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t -”

You roared in frustration and tears stung your eyes. “I know that, okay? Jesus, Steve.” You punched the wall with everything you had. Agony, white-hot and searing, exploded in your knuckles. You gave a pain-laced scream and dropped to your knees, tears streaming down your face.

“I fuck everything up, Steve,” you murmured. “It’s all I know how to do. I’m the pain-in-the-ass-relative that nobody wants to be around or go on a mission with, the one that can’t shut the fuck up, the one that everyone hates. I’m sorry, Steve. I’m sorry I fucked it all up.”

Steve was on his knees in front of you, his shirt off, the thin cotton pressed to your bloody knuckles. You tried to pull away from him, to find the nearest corner and sit in it, to shut yourself off completely. He wiped away the blood that oozed from the wounds, shaking his head, his eyes dark, his jaw tight.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, so softly that you were sure he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Then tell me why you’re always on my case. Explain why nothing I do is good enough. I may look like a fucking teenager, but you seem to forget how old I really am.”

You had been married at the age of eighteen, kept the house while your husband worked, and as of three weeks prior, you had a bouncing baby boy; Harold Barton. Sure, money was tight at times, but your husband always made it work.

And then one day, he came home early, a somber expression on his face, a letter in his hand. He had been let go, the company was bankrupt, and you barely had two nickels to rub together. So, you scoured the papers, looking for anything you could do to bring in the money needed to keep your son alive, to keep clothes on his back, and a roof over his head. 

WANTED: Women, ages 18 – 22, in excellent health.
Want to get paid hundreds of dollars for a week of your time?
Helping the Youth Dream and Remain Active has developed a new health regime, and are in need of volunteers.
Please call the number below.

“I should have known better,” you ridiculed yourself, your eyes finally lifting to meet Steve’s. “I lost my husband and my son, and now… now I have a grandson. Jesus, Clint’s older than I am, and he has kids, and one day, they’ll be older than me. I mean… I just…”

Steve pulled you into his arms as your voice trailed off, a hand on the back of your head, the other at the small of your back. “You did what you thought was right, Y/N.”

“How could I just leave them?” you sobbed. “I should have stayed, been a better wife and mother.”

“Hey, no,” Steve argued gently. “Don’t do that.”

You pulled in a breath that made your shoulders shake. “It’s the truth, Steve, and there’s nothing you can do or say to make me think otherwise..”

Sighing, you untangled yourself from Steve’s arms and pushed up, using his shoulder for leverage. Your uninjured hand was about to fall away, but Steve’s hand shot out and gripped it tight. He whirled you around and looked up at you, his eyes swirling with emotion.

With your hand on his jaw, you asked, “Steve… what are you doing?”

You knew what you wanted him to do, you wanted him to kiss you, to claim you, to show you the dominant side you knew he kept hidden. It wouldn’t happen, but that didn’t stop you from wanting it.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he rasped.

In the blink of an eye, his hand was on the back of your neck and he was surging up to kiss you. He was still on his knees, but even then, you were almost face-to-face with him. Your hands were in his hair, nails scraping along his scalp, fingers squeezing the back of his neck, your tongue sliding along his as he deepened the kiss.

Steve moaned in the back of his throat as he stood, his arms tight around you, your legs wrapping around his waist of their own accord. He pinned you to the wall, rocking his body against yours, driving the both of you crazy with desire. Your nails were digging into his skin, marring it with red welts, making him hiss as he pulled away.

Your mouth was on his pulsepoint. “The serum is busy trying to get rid of the gas”

“I know,” he huffed, his neck stretched out, giving your tongue and teeth ample room to roam, his hips jerking forward, your ass bouncing off the wall.

“Plus, the walls are lined with vibranium,” you gasped at the delicious way the bulge in his pants rubbed against you.

“I know that, too, Y/N,” he snarled in a way that made your body pulse.

“We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t -”

Steve groaned loudly at that. “Jesus, Y/N. If you won’t shut up, I’ll do it for you.”

When all you did was wink at him, Steve kissed you savagely, pulling needy and desperate moans from you. One of his hands slipped beneath your shirt and skimmed along your side and stomach before covering your breast, massaging it, your pert nipple rubbing deliciously along the black lace.

“Are you guys okay? Oh, shit,” Bruce yelped, a hand flying up to cover his eyes.

“What the hell, Banner?” Steve growled, his grip on you loosening. You slid down, barely biting back a moan as your body moved against his. You fought the urge to rip his pants off and take him in your mouth whether Bruce was in the room or not.

Bruce peeked through his fingers. “Elevated heart rates,” he said, pointing at the sensors on Steve’s chest.

“Shit,” you muttered, reaching out to touch them. You had honestly forgotten all about them. His skin was so smooth and warm, you wanted to lick it.

“Besides,” Bruce announced loudly, snapping you out of it. “I got some test results back.”

With his full bottom lip trapped between those amazingly perfect white teeth, Steve’s hand was on the side of your neck, his thumb tracing the swell of your bottom lip.

“And?” he asked, his voice heavy with lust, his pupils completely blown.

Bruce’s eyes darted between the two of you. “It appears that when the gas and the serum met, they formed a sort of…” he was struggling to put it into layman’s terms, something they could easily understand.

“Spit it out, Banner,” you ordered, sidling closer to the soldier towering over you.

“It makes you guys tell the truth,” was his answer.

Steve was smirking down at you. “Good to know. Can we leave?”

“I mean, I don’t see why not. But don’t leave the com -”

You were draped over Steve’s shoulder and headed out the door before Bruce could finish.

“I could get used to this view,” you giggled as you grabbed his ass.

“You ain’t the only one, doll.” Steve slapped your ass that made you wince, that sent sparks of electricity dancing along your skin.

Less than a minute later, you were lying on the bed and Steve was locking the door.

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Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @badassbaker @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters  @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @iwillwakeherinthemorning @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmumreads @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @sexyvixen7 @whope123 @mscaptainjones @awkward-walking-potato @memory-of-a-goldfish @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @minarawr @xserenax-13 @andiyholly @averyrogers83 @bionic-buckyb @princess76179 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @female-accountant @whitemoonstag @xxashy999xx @coffeewithjake @nerdgirljen @everythingisoverrated @angelsofalliteration @walkingtravesty97 @jbarnes87 @akamaiden @part-time-patronus @slytherin-in-hufflepuff-robes @emmawatsonbelle @joannie95 @almighty-rogers @jamesbbbarnes @buckysothiccbarnes @paintballkid711 @brastrangled @jessica-bones-winchester @iamthemaskhewears @wheresthekillswitch @chonisberonica

Steve: @mjdoc90 @blxcksoulsanddxrkflowers @hides-in-the-shadows @cherrysfandom @lxdyred @jemmaisokay @phoenix21love @xingareum @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @patzammit @chrisevans1fan

Stealth Suit: @amandab-ftw @mystery94 @a-nurse-and-a-fangirl @queenmira29 @daiiybuugle @superwholockedbeauty @qnzdiamond104 @part-time-patronus @grandloser @captainsherlockwinchester110283 @thinkwritexpress-official @spntwdfringe @crazyjam-pot @jemmaisokay @princess76179 @jazzyjazandthejasminetrio @no-champagne-socialist @royallylazy @anncutamarica @okay-okay18 @sav625 @liffydaze @macanooni @kurage14 @mylittlefandomfanfictions @papi-chulo-seb @hazie-rey @vale0413 @dyanna-corona 

Scar Tissue

Summary: Bucky is extremely self conscious about his scars.
Word Count: 505
Warnings: Self conscious Bucky, fluff
Author’s Note: Requested by anon. Could I request one where Bucky is really self conscious about the scars around his arm? And eventually the reader figures out what his deal is and it’s real fluffy? GIF credit

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

Bucky had come to accept a lot of things about himself, but the angry red scars on his shoulder and chest wasn’t one of them. They did nothing but remind him of the day he died, falling from the train while Steve was helpless to stop it. They made him remember the countless hours, days, weeks, months of torture, of the hack jobs HYDRA called surgeons and the numerous surgeries he was forced to undergo.

He did the best he could to ignore them, to look the other way, to always have them covered, but he could feel them, the pulse of blood under the thick tissue, the way his shirts would rub against them, irritating them. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of them, but no matter the technological and scientific advances Bruce and Tony discovered, nothing worked.

For every part of himself that Bucky hated, Y/N loved. Every mark and imperfection was beautiful in her eyes. He never let on how much he disagreed with her, how his scars repulsed him, but she caught on fairly quickly.

“Bucky, baby,” she cooed, sitting up in bed, the sheet falling around her waist. “Come to bed.”

With a resigned sigh, he dropped down, prepared to sleep fully clothed. Y/N’s hand was on the hem of his shirt, tugging it up, baring his back to her.

“Doll, no,” he argued gently, his voice thin and tired.

“I want to see you, feel you,” Y/N insisted.

He glanced at her over his shoulder and felt himself fall deeper in love. Never had he felt more safe, than when he was by her side. Nodding his head once, he reached back and tugged the shirt over his head. While she held up the sheet, he slid in next to her, his arm draping over her waist as she turned into him, their legs tangling together.

“Talk to me.” Her voice was whisper-soft, barely there, imploring.

His shoulder bobbed under her touch. “Nothing to say.”

She traced over his scars with her fingertips and nails, sending a wave of goosebumps down his chest. “I know that isn’t true.”

What could he say, that he hated something she accepted about him, that she loved? He shook his head with a sigh and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“They’re a part of you, your scars,” she breathed, now using the back of her knuckles to touch him. “They’re proof that you survived. You’ve been to hell and back, but, goddamn it, you survived, Buck.”

There were tears clouding his vision and clogging his throat. He never thought about it like that. All they did was remind him of the life he had lost. He had been so caught up in the negative, he never once thought about all of the positivity in his life.

She was smiling warmly, curving her body into his. “I love you, James, all of you.”

Dipping his head, he smeared a kiss to her lips. “I love you, too, doll.”

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Bucky: @inumorph​ @eclecticninjapenguin​​ @angryschnauzerwrites​​ @me-a-hopeless-romantic​​ @thinkwritexpress-official​​ @sarahp879​ @blxcksoulsanddxrkflowers​​ @wecanburntogether​​ @britty443​​ @barnesbestgirl​​ @demonspawn2468​​​ @nuvoleincielo @bexboo616​ @prospathww​ @chrisevans1fan

Touch Starved

Summary: Bucky desperately wants you to touch him.
Word Count: 1,121
Warnings: Touch deprivation, rough explicit sexual content, utter filth, some dirty talk
Author’s Note: Requested by anon. Okay so concept: touch starved Bucky?

My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc.) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.

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Bucky was strapped to the bed, leather cuffs around his wrists, wrists that could rip apart his bonds as if they were nothing more than paper. He was allowing you to do this to him, to turn him into nothing more than a pool of sweat, whimpers falling from his mouth, begging for your touch. Every inch of him was thrumming with raw desire, filling the room with his musky scent as he writhed on the bed.

“I don’t know how you’ve stayed in control so long, Buck,” you murmured, his sweat-slicked chest was heaving under your barely-there touch, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth, and a dark glimmer in his eyes.

He had cum twice already, the proof of it was on his stomach, chest, and neck, growing tacky under the swirling fan on the ceiling. Any normal human would be spent, would have rolled onto their sides, snoring away, but not Bucky. He was already insatiable before being turned into a weapon of HYDRA.

So, when Bucky said that he, “Could fuck you all night long,” he meant it.

Your hand skimmed down his toned stomach, catching on the opaque pool oozing out of his belly button. With a smirk, you brought your hand to your mouth and licked it clean, humming contentedly. “Taste so good, Buck,” you praised, watching with an arched brow as his cock jumped.

“Y/N,” he ground out. “I think you’ve had your fun.”

You were now between his thighs, nails scraping through the dark hairs, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “I have, but I know for a fact that I’m not alone in my… enjoyment,” you said while bending down, your hot breath blowing over his cock. You let loose a moan when it twitched again, harder than before, slapping your chin.

“You know you’re not,” he snarled, his hands flexing as he continued to refrain from tearing the bed apart and fucking you into oblivion.

Smirking, you moved to straddle his hips, moving so carefully that all he felt was the hairs on his legs moving, and it made him shiver in anticipation. You chuckled low in your throat at the sight of him. He was so close to breaking, to losing the control he desperately craved, and it made your body flush with desire.

With your hands on his chest, you hummed low in your throat. “I don’t know whether I should give in,” you purred, hips rolling, the slick of your pussy dripping onto his rigid cock, “or if I should just keep -” your voice trailed off when you bit your bottom lip, rolling your hips one more time.

Bucky was smirking wickedly, and by the time you figured out why, it was too late. While you had been rocking your hips, Bucky had been timing them, calculating when he should flex his cock, and drive himself deep into your pussy. Bastard got it on the first try.

Your head fell forward as an obscene moan fell from your lips. “Fuck,” you snarled. “Warn a girl.”

“I have,” he shot back, his voice gritty and dark. You barely registered the sound of ripping leather before you were on your back, Bucky between your thighs, his mouth on yours as he fucked you furiously. You couldn’t catch your breath. Every nerve ending felt as if it had just been set on fire, the flames growing hotter, spreading faster with every deep thrust of Bucky’s hips.

“Bucky,” you gasped, nonverbally pleading with him to keep fucking you, that you needed him, that you couldn’t get enough, that you wanted more.

“I know, doll,” Bucky purred, his lips against yours, his shoulders bowing with every thrust. He had your legs spread wide, his knees driving into the bed every time his hips snapped forward, a wet slap of skin echoing the grunts he punched out of you.

You clawed at his sweat-slicked back, searching for purchase that you’d never find, Bucky was moving too much for that. He was like a wild animal, insatiable now that he was fucking you into the mattress, the wooden frame creaking under the pressure.

“Fuck, doll,” he ground out, teeth scraping against your pulse point. “I need you to cum, baby.”

Your entire body was buzzing, lust surging through your veins, your pussy flexing around his cock hypnotically, drawing a groan of your name. You were teetering on the precipice, ready for the orgasm to wash over you, all you needed was…

Bucky’s hand was on your throat, putting just enough pressure to get your attention, to make you gasp. He never squeezed too tight, he had done his research, knew where to squeeze, knew not to make your face turn red. The blood pounded in your ears, roared through you, heightening everything; the heavy drag of his cock, the way it pulsed when it brushed over your sweet spot, his chest hair sticking to your breasts, swirling around your nipples, the blast of his hot breath on your skin; it was just what you needed.

Your back curved off the bed and a scream tore its way out of you as you came, your legs shaking painfully, your nails probably drawing blood, but Bucky didn’t flinch. With a feral snarl, Bucky came after one, two, three more snaps of his hips before he stilled between your legs.

His forehead was on your shoulder as the pair of you gulped at the thick air, aftershocks rolling through you. He had just moved to roll away when there was a loud creak, and an even louder snap. The mattress fell to the floor at an angle, sending the two of you rolling to the floor.

You were laughing wildly, covering your face as you rolled to your back. “Oh, my God,” you cried out. “I can’t believe you broke my bed!”

“That wasn’t all me, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled.

“It was mostly you,” you pointed out, your hand resting on his chest.

He was on his side, peppering kisses on your forehead. “You started it.”

You were still laughing. “It was made from Asgardian oak! Thor is going to be so mad at you.”

Bucky blew a raspberry on your neck. “I can take him.”

“You think so, huh?”

With his eyebrows wiggling, Bucky moved to straddle you, pinning your arms above your head, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I know so, doll.”

“In that case…” you sucked in a breath to scream out the god’s name, to show him what Bucky had done, to tell him that the one and only Winter Soldier had claimed he could beat the Asgardian, but Bucky’s mouth was on yours, kissing you breathless before you could make another sound.

Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @badassbaker @baezen @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters  @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @southernbellestatues @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmum @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @sexyvixen7 @whope123 @mscaptainjones @awkward-walking-potato @memory-of-a-goldfish @somethingwitty-somethingsweet @minarawr @xserenax-13 @keepyourheadup2018 @andiyholly @averyrogers83  @brastrangled @jessica-bones-winchester @iamthemaskhewears @wheresthekillswitch @stangirl4eva @bionic-buckyb

Bucky: @inumorph @eclecticninjapenguin @angryschnauzerwrites @me-a-hopeless-romantic @thinkwritexpress-official @sarahp879 @blxcksoulsanddxrkflowers @wecanburntogether @britty443 @barnesbestgirl @demonspawn2468

When I Think About You

Summary: After overhearing a conversation between you and Natasha, Steve wants to talk to you about it. He walks into your room and finds you in a compromising situation.
Word Count: 1,531
Warnings: Masturbation, slightly embarrassed reader, emboldened Steve, explicit sexual content
Author’s Note: I got two requests that involved masturbating, so I worked them into one fic. I hope it’s okay. If you’re up for it could I request a Steve/reader where reader confesses to Nat she has a crush on Steve? Steve overhears and decides to talk to her about it, but walk in on her touching herself to the thought of them.
Steve/Reader where reader is touching herself, and has a vibrator named after Steve, of course screaming out his name when he has super hearing might not be the best idea, or is it 😉 GIF found on Google Images. 

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

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“Alright, spill it,” Nat rasped after checking over her shoulder, making sure that no one was around.

You felt like you were back in school, blushing and playing with the hem of your shirt, the shirt you had ‘borrowed’ from Steve a few months back. You shook your head and shrugged.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured, eyes flicking around the common area. Why you agreed to talk to your friend in the middle of one of the largest rooms in the compound, you had no earthly idea, but there you were. “You’re going to laugh.”

She was shaking her head and crossing her heart with two fingers. “Not happening, girl.”

You sighed before giving in and telling her exactly what had been going on with you. “I mean, I like Steve, a lot.”

“That’s not news,” she chuckled, her hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, well… I mean, there’s more. But I mean it when I say you can’t tell anyone,” you warned her, a finger thrust at her.

She held her hand out for you to shake. “HYDRA couldn’t break me,” was her way of promising that whatever was said would remain between the two of you.

“Okay,” you huffed, wringing your hands together in your lap. “I can’t… orgasm without… ugh, without  thinking of Steve.”

There, the cat was out of the bag, and you felt… super fucking embarrassed. Your cheeks burned and you covered your face with your hands, groaning loudly into the palms. You expected to hear peals of laughter from the woman sitting next to you, but there were none. Instead, she squeezed your knee again and waited until you peeked out.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed out, Y/N,” she assured you, her voice gentle and kind.

“I have a sex toy I call Captain. It’s red and white, with a set of blue balls,” you blurted out, your eyes wide once the admission was out there.

Nat laughed at that point, but not because of what you said. All the color drained from your face and you fell back onto the couch. “They make those?”

“Natasha,” you groaned. “I have a real life problem here, and you’re wondering about a line of Avengers sex toys?”

“There’s a whole line?” she gasped loudly.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yes, Nat. There’s one for you, too.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Her attention was no longer on what was happening with you, rather the slim laptop that was now on her legs, her fingers typing rapidly in the search bar, pulling up all the information she could find about the newly released line.

“Goddamn,” she huffed. “You weren’t lying.”

It was a lost cause, trying to get Natasha back on track once her mind was completely occupied. You huffed as you got off the couch, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and trudged up to your room. You were never one for wearing clothes once inside the safety of your own living space, so once the door was latched, you stripped out of your clothes and dropped to the bed.

Admitting that you masturbated to Steve Rogers, Captain frigging America, was not exactly on the agenda, and talking about it, seeing the vibrator on the computer, got your blood racing. You hadn’t expected your body to react so… carnally at just the sight of it, but it sure as hell did.

The ache between your legs hadn’t diminished, not that you were surprised. You had always had a highly active libido, but ever since joining the Avengers – even in an unofficial way – and being around Steve eighty-five percent of the time, it had increased exponentially. One of the many side effects you had suffered.

Speaking of side effects… Steve’s bright eyes flashed in your mind and sent a spark dancing down your spine. You tried to fight it, the urge to put your hand between your legs, to fondle your breasts, tweaking the nipples into hard peaks, to slip your fingers between your rapidly dampening folds. You tried to ignore the heat that flooded through you when you pushed two fingers in, inching them in and out, when a moan of his name fell from your lips, when you curled your fingers just right.

You were writhing on your bed, using the edge for leverage, your hips rising off the bed. “Steve, yes,” you cried out, working your thumb against your clit.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Steve hollered as he tore into your room.

“What the fuck?” you screamed, standing on shaking legs, your sweat-slicked nakedness on full display, raw need surging through you like lava.

His chest was heaving under one of his ever-present shirts that were a size too small as his eyes roved over you. “Are you uh, I mean, you’re okay?”

“Am I okay?” you scoffed. “I was masturbating, Steve. I was just about to cum, too. What do you fucking think?” You glared at him, hands on your hips, your arousal dripping down your thighs, waiting for him to say something, anything. Instead, Steve reached behind him and closed the door, backed up when it latched, and turned the lock with a jerk of his wrist.

“I think,” he started, his voice dark, his hand reaching behind his head to pull off his shirt, “that you should,” his thumb flicked open the button on his jeans as he walked, “let me help you.”

You didn’t hesitate, you surged forward and kissed the super soldier, your hands shoving the denim down his hips, fisting his cock as soon as it was free. Steve groaned into your mouth and shoved his hand between your legs, stroking you roughly, pushing two thick fingers inside of you. Your back was against the wall, ass rolling off of it with every frenzied stroke, your hand twisting on the upstroke, smearing fat beads of pre-cum over the wide head of his cock.

Steve had you cumming in no time, his gritty praises throwing fuel on the inferno, sending you spiraling. You choked on his name as you fell apart, squeezing his cock, pulling noises from him that you’d only heard in your wildest fantasies. Your body was still thrumming when Steve grabbed your ass, picked you up from the floor, and entered you swiftly.

“Shit,” you cried out, your back curving off the wall, your hands in Steve’s hair, your ankles locking behind his back.

His mouth was on your neck, licking and biting as he purred, “So tight, doll. Tightest pussy I’ve had.”

His teeth scraped your pulsepoint before he sucked on it, his hips already thrusting tightly, your overstimulated walls shuddering around his cock, pulling a gasp from the pair of you. You hadn’t expected anything romantic or slow, but the rate that Steve pounded into you, snarling as he watched your body take him, damp forehead on your shoulder, your nails digging into his neck and shoulder, it was almost too much to handle. You were seeing stars, grunting at the impact of your ass against the wall, not surprised when you heard the plaster crack.

“Ste- Steve, I… I’m gonna,” you gasped, unable to complete your sentence because he had slid his hand along your stomach, found your throbbing clit, and worked his middle finger against it in tight, frenzied circles.

“I got’chu, doll,” Steve ground out, his cock twitching heavily as the coil in your gut snapped, sending you reeling.

Your head slammed into the wall and Steve was biting your shoulder, sucking hard, no doubt marking you as he continued pistoning in and out of you, the rhythm faltering slightly. And then, with a low-in-his-throat growl, Steve grabbed your hips and snapped his up one final time, his cock pulsing as he came, your name a shattered cry.

“Well… that was… I can’t,” you stammered as you struggled to breathe.

“Better than Captain, I hope,” Steve teased, pulling back to watch your face go white.

You swallowed heavily several times before asking, “You heard that?”

He chuckled low in his throat as he kissed you. “Super soldier hearing,” he explained, pulling back from the wall, and taking you with him as he strolled into the bathroom.

You cringed and hid your face behind your hands. “Oh, God,” you groaned.

Steve stepped into the shower and turned the water on. “Don’t be embarrassed, doll,” he cooed, one hand tugging at your wrists. “Would it help if I said I envision you whenever I touch myself?”

“You do?” You asked in surprise, your eyes wide at his admission.

“Every night,” was what he admitted next. “And I shout your name when I cum, too.”

A wave of arousal rushed through you as Steve’s soft cock – still buried inside of you – started to get hard. Your eyes rolled back and you gnawed on your bottom lip, moaning at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Another perk of being a super soldier,” Steve murmured, his lips against the column of your neck, his hand in your hair. “I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

“Promise?”

Despite the warm water hitting your skin, Steve’s dark chuckle pulled goosebumps to the surface. “Promise.”

Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @becs-bunker @badassbaker @baezen @feelmyroarrrr @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @bitchierrichie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters @chipmunkofmischief @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @until-theend-oftheline @southernbellestatues @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmum @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream @punkrockhufflefluff @winters-beauty @unlikelygalaxygiver @thirtiethnovember @brastrangled @jessica-bones-winchester @iamthemaskhewears @wheresthekillswitch

Steve: @mjdoc90 @blxcksoulsanddxrkflowers @hides-in-the-shadows @cherrysfandom @lxdyred @jemmaisokay @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @phoenix21love

Dreams Come True

Summary: Bucky and Steve help fulfill one of your fantasies.
Word Count: 1,414
Warnings: Established polyamorous relationship, explicit sexual content, m/m, threesome, male receiving anal sex, dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, dom / sub tones, all around filth
Author’s Note: We only have @captain-rogers-beard to blame for this.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.

Being with Steve and Bucky meant always trying new things; new positions, different locations, various role playing scenarios, nothing was off limits, which was why you were standing between your boys, your back against Bucky’s chest, your hands hooked into Steve’s belt.

“I think our girl wants something, Buck,” Steve noted, a smirk on his lips.

Bucky’s hand was buried in your hair, his lips roving the column of your neck as he hummed. “She does, huh?”

“She keeps chewing on her bottom lip, lookin’ like she’s got a secret or somethin’.” Steve’s hips were pinned to yours, his hand tangling in Bucky’s hair, watching as his friend sucked dark marks onto your neck.

Your eyes rolled back at the way Bucky’s moan shot down your spine, straight to your pussy. “Come on, doll,” he urged, his cock pulsing in the small of your back. “Tell us what you want.”

You were already unbuckling the belt on Steve’s waist. “I want Bucky to fuck you, Steve,” you admitted, your voice tight and nervous.

Steve groaned at that, his grip in Bucky’s hair tightening. “What about you, sweetheart?” he asked, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I’ve got you to take care of me,” you smirked at him, reaching into his boxers and gripping his cock.

Both men moaned low and heavy, their cocks pulsing in sync. “Are you sure, love?” Bucky wanted to know, his teeth nipping at your skin once more.

“Fuck yes,” was your gritty answer as you surged forward and kissed Steve. Behind you, Bucky snarled as Steve yanked on his hair, pulling him around so that when Steve’s mouth left yours, he was kissing Bucky fiercely.

Three sets of clothes basically disappeared, and in the blink of an eye, you were on your back, Steve’s head between your legs, two fingers deep in your pussy, and Bucky, well, you couldn’t see him, but you could hear him, he was greedily sucking Steve’s cock as he fisted his own. White-hot lust surged through you as Steve fucked you with his fingers and mouth. You were already a whimpering mess and you hadn’t even cum yet. That was until Steve’s mouth sealed around your clit, sucking on it at the same time that he crooked his fingers, sending you spiraling. Your thighs shook and your feet arched on Steve’s shoulders as you came, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Steve was hissing, telling Bucky that he wasn’t ready to cum yet, that he wanted, “To be buried inside Y/N.” You heard the wet pop of Bucky’s mouth releasing it’s hold on Steve’s cock, and it sent another wave of arousal through you.

Bucky stood from his spot on the floor and swiped a hand over his chin. “You ready, doll?”

“Yes, sir,” you purred, your legs spread wide, your slick seeping out.

The two super soldier’s eyes went dark at the sight. Bucky was about to instruct Steve to take his place between your legs, but you were shaking your head. “I… I want to wa- watch for a minute.”

“Dirty girl,” Steve growled, thick cock in his hands.

Bucky removed a bottle of lube from the desk and had Steve bend over the bed, chest against the mattress, legs spread. “It’s been a minute, Stevie,” he admitted, squirting lube onto Steve’s asshole. “I’ll go slow.”

Steve whimpered when Bucky pushed his metallic middle finger into his tight hole. You’d watched porn before and loved the blissed out look on the bottom’s face as their top got them ready, prepared them for what was to come, but seeing it in person, seeing Steve wearing that look, made your knees shake.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Bucky growled, slowly working another digit beside the first. “Forgot how tight you were.”

“Need you, Buck,” Steve hissed as his hips rolled.

Bucky’s eyes flicked up to yours, smirking when he found you fingering yourself. “Look at her,” he demanded, reveling in the way Steve’s muscles flexed around his fingers. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ sight?”

“She is,” Steve agreed before licking his lips. “I can still taste her.”

“Lemme taste,” Bucky snarled, grabbing Steve by the back of his neck and hauling him up. Their mouths met in a frenzy as Bucky sucked your taste from Steve’s lips and tongue, his eyes never leaving yours. When they parted, Steve fell to the bed, his eyes rolling back in his head, Bucky’s cock pressing into him.

“Easy, Stevie,” Bucky hissed, his back arching as he inched into Steve’s tight hole.

It was all you thought it would be and more. Steve gripped the blanket, his knuckles going white as he took Bucky’s cock. His mouth was agape, small gasps and moans leaving him with every inch he took. You about came at the sight of Bucky bottoming out, the way his head fell forward, the gritty curse that fell from his lips, the shudder that rolled down his spine.

He gripped Steve’s hips and started thrusting shallowly. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he swore crudely, his fingers digging bruises into Steve’s skin.

Steve’s grip moved from the blanket to your ankle, and he started tugging you closer. Your fingers left your fluttering pussy and your mouth opened wide to ask him what the hell he was doing, but his wrecked voice answered your unanswered question.

“Not… nnnngggg… not gonna last long, Y/N,” he ground out, pushing up so that you could slide under his frame.

Bucky was snarling at the way Steve was shifting, changing the angle of his cock. “Get in there, baby,” he said to you, his dark eyes flashing with carnal need as he continued to casually fuck Steve.

Steve’s rock-hard cock found your pussy on its own, sliding in easily when Bucky pushed on Steve’s ass with his pelvis. Your eyes rolled back and you about came right then and there. Steve caught your mouth in his, kissing you fervently, holding your legs open with his hands, his nails digging into you, your fingers scrambling for purchase on his wide shoulders.

You’d been fucked by two men before, the very same men that were between your legs, but never like this. You were living your very own fantasy, and you could honestly say that right then, it was the best sexual experience you’d ever had.

With each snap of Bucky’s hips, Steve’s cock drove into you, both men grunting and moaning at the impact, at the way you keened, begging them for more. You wanted it hard and fast, and Bucky was only willing to comply.

Bucky’s gritty voice was murmuring praises to Steve. “Taking my cock so good, Stevie.”

“So tight and wet, Y/N,” Steve would gasp. “Perfect little pussy.” His mouth would find the pulse point in your neck and l latch onto it, his teeth scraping over it, just shy of breaking the skin.

Every nerve ending felt as if it were a live wire, white hot, dangerous, looking for an outlet. You found it when Bucky began fucking Steve to the point that both men were grinding their teeth. Steve’s pelvis bit painfully into yours, and the coil deep in your gut snapped. Your back came off the bed completely and your eyes rolled back as Steve’s cock swelled, twitching heavily inside you.

Bucky was close behind, his hips falling out of rhythm, a wordless cry falling from his lips, and then there was nothing, just two super soldiers smothering you. Your lungs burned and your hips were starting to cramp up, but you just laid there, hands smoothing over the sweat-slicked skin of your boys. Your eyes fell shut as first Bucky, then Steve pushed off of you, leaving you whimpering in sheer bliss.

Steve cleaned between your legs and Bucky was lifting you up to your pillow, covering you with a sheet after climbing in beside you. You turned to kiss him sweetly, a happy sigh in the back of your throat.

“Didn’t she do great, Buck?” Steve murmured, his wide chest to your back, his lips in your hair.

Bucky kissed your nose, then your forehead. “Our doll did amazing,” he confirmed.

You gave a loud yawn, one that arched your back and made the muscles in your legs ache. You wanted to tell them how much you appreciated what they had done, fulfilling one of your fantasies, but you were exhausted, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, trapped between your boys.

Everything: @captain-rogers-beard @because-imma-lady-assface @mrs-squirrel-chester @wheresthekillswitch @becs-bunker @badassbaker @baezen @feelmyroarrrr @fatalcrossbow @sunriserose1023 @alyssaj23 @stevergxrs @ssweet-empowerment @supernatural-girl97 @thefridgeismybestie @bitchierrichie @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @palaiasaurus64 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @nyxveracity @breezy1415 @titty-teetee @melaninmarvel @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @wildefire @capsheadquaters @chipmunkofmischief @qnzdiamond104 @saharzek @speakinvain @diinofayce @mizzzpink @pebblesz892 @stevieang @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl @until-theend-oftheline @southernbellestatues @jakaraannodine @lea—-b @redqueen1221 @brittyevans @moisttoas-t @nuggsmum @anotherotter @jobean12-blog @fireismysaftey @msshadowboxer @vechkinfan @prettybubblesintheair @kanupps06 @rainbowkisses31 @janeyboo @banlaochranda @ellie-bee242 @shieldsandsunsets @evanstandream

Stucky: @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @peytonlovescupckaes @autoblocked @its–fandom–darling  @eshia16 @daiiybuugle