Call me Kâ˘She/Herâ˘41â˘18+/MDNI⢠My kinks include a 109yr old super soldier with a vibranium arm & writing indulgent delusions. Based in Bklyn. Masterlist Navigation
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Moi: 41, call me K. Wannabe writer. Puerto Rican. Bi. Married. In a prior life, I was a runner and worked in legal. This is my side blog. My main is @thatesqcrush where I share my love for my other hyperfixation, RaĂşl Esparza. My follows will come from my main. I also am the person behind @fckyeahraulesparza.
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Summary: You just turned 18, your mommaâs away & Leeâs got his eyes (and cock) set on you.
AN: Greed 02, for @theoracleofsin event Summer of Sin: âThere is no such thing as 'enough' when it comes to what I want."
AN2: Divider courtesy of @saradika-graphics
đ¨WARNINGđ¨DDDNE (Dead Dove Do Not Eat) The following work deals with a large age gap (reader just turned 18, Lee is in his 40s) as well as dubious consent (non-con if you squint).
The author also trusts that you know your own triggers before you proceed. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY.
đŠContent WarningđŠ language, dubcon/noncon, stepcest/fauxcest, sexual relations between step-dad & step-daughter, including but not limited to: kissing, fingering, groping, p in v sex, loss of virginity, virginity slang, Lee being crude and lewd, creampie, blood play (very minor), rough sex, mirror sex, underage drinking.
You peered over your sunglasses as the squad car pulled up to the house. It was hotter than Satanâs cat; it mustâve been 90° alone in the shade.
Sheriff Lee Bodecker - your step daddy - pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. You were laying on a faded lawn chair, enjoying the sun and heat in your little bikini top and cutoffs.
Itâs your birthday. Eighteen todayâfinally legal, finally an adult. Your mamaâs gone for the week, visiting your aunt in Chillicothe, leaving you alone in this creaky old house with your step-daddy.
Sheriff Lee Bodecker.
Heâd been eyeing you like forbidden fruit since the day he moved in, his uniform always crisp, that drawl dripping with something darker than authority. He wasnât exactly shy about his wandering eye and you didnât understand how your mama put up with it.
âHappy birthday sugar,â Lee drawls as he climbs out of the car. His eyes rake over your tiny sleep shorts, tits in your bikini top, hair tousled. There was no escaping that hungry stare. âCâmere and let your step-daddy give you a birthday hug.â
Heâs on you in two strides, big hands pulling you up. He grips your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his belly, the badge on his chest is cool through the fabric, a stark reminder of who he isâthe law in this town, and right now, the law wants you.
âCâmon honey, letâs go inside so we can celebrate proper. Stopped at the store on the way home and picked you up a little cake. Thought we could share with some beers.â
Your brow arched. âIâm 18, not 21.â
âI wonât tell anyone if you wonât sugar,â Lee winked with a lascivious grin.
Twenty minutes later, youâre on your second beer as you take the plates to the sink. As you turn, you see Lee run his finger through the thick buttercream before sucking it off. âMmm, so sweet,â he murmurs. âBut my sweet tooth wonders if thereâs something sweeterâŚâ
You pick up on the double entendre immediately. âLeeâŚâ
Heâs in front of you now, his large arms caging you in at the sink.
âLeeâŚâ you repeat again, your voice low and warning.
Lee paid no mind. âPartyâs just getting started sweetheart. Been patient long enough.â His mouth crashes down on yours, demanding, tongue sweeping in like he owns every inch. You push half-heartedly at his shoulders, a soft moan slipping out. Lee just chuckles against your lips, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb teasing the nipple until it pebbles.
âTurned eighteen. My good girl now. Time to give your step-daddy what heâs been cravinâ.â He tugs you effortlessly into the room adjacent to the kitchen - your room.
Fingers hook into your shorts, yanking them down with your bathing suit bottoms in one tug. You gasp as cool air hits your exposed skin, thighs pressing together instinctively. But Leeâs knee wedges between them, spreading you open. His fingers find your slick folds, circling your clit with practiced strokes that make your knees buckle.
âLee, IâIâm not sure about thisâŚâ Your voice trembles, body caught between shame and the building heat. Heat pools low as he kisses down your neck, sucking marks thatâll bruise tomorrow. âThis is wrong. I canâtâ Iâve neverâŚâ
âHow can it be wrong when wrong feels too damn good, donât it?â He spins you to face the mirror, forcing you to watch. His hand is in between your legs, two thick fingers pushing inside. The stretch burns sweet, drawing a whimper from you as he pumps slow and deep. âLook at yourself. Soakinâ for your stepdaddy already.â
He frees his cock, thick, veined, flushed dark, and rubs the head along your slit. âThere is no such thing as âenoughâ when it comes to what I want.â The words rumble against your ear as he notches at your entrance and thrusts in, not giving you time to adjust. You cry out at the fullness, tears stinging your eyes, but he holds you steady, one arm banded across your chest, the other working your clit. âFuck, so tight. Look at the sweet cunt. Sheâs takinâ me so pretty.â
Pain fades into overwhelming pleasure as he bottoms out, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. The mirror fogs with your panting breaths. His groans mix with your moansâsurrender as your body betrays you, hips rocking back to meet him. âThatâs it, baby girl. Let stepdaddy ruin this pussy.â
He fucks you harder, hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds, claiming you completely until youâre clenching around him, coming with a shattered gasp.
He buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, cock pulsing hard as he unloads. Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your pussy, so much it immediately starts pushing out around his shaft, creamy and messy, dripping down. He keeps grinding deep through it, fucking his load even further into you.
âAtta girl⌠milk every drop. Thatâs my good fuckinâ girl.â
He stays buried inside you for a long moment, panting, then slowly pulls out just to watch the creamy mess spill out of your wrecked hole.
His eyes widen at the red streaks mixed with his load. âWould you look at that,â he replies in wonder. âPopped my girlâs cherry.â
He smears the now pink mixture of your blood and his cum up over your clit with his thumb, teasing. He leans down to kiss the back of your neck all
Summary: You just turned 18, your mommaâs away & Leeâs got his eyes (and cock) set on you.
AN: Greed 02, for @theoracleofsin event Summer of Sin: âThere is no such thing as 'enough' when it comes to what I want."
AN2: Divider courtesy of @saradika-graphics
đ¨WARNINGđ¨DDDNE (Dead Dove Do Not Eat) The following work deals with a large age gap (reader just turned 18, Lee is in his 40s) as well as dubious consent (non-con if you squint).
The author also trusts that you know your own triggers before you proceed. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY.
đŠContent WarningđŠ language, dubcon/noncon, stepcest/fauxcest, sexual relations between step-dad & step-daughter, including but not limited to: kissing, fingering, groping, p in v sex, loss of virginity, virginity slang, Lee being crude and lewd, creampie, blood play (very minor), rough sex, mirror sex, underage drinking.
You peered over your sunglasses as the squad car pulled up to the house. It was hotter than Satanâs cat; it mustâve been 90° alone in the shade.
Sheriff Lee Bodecker - your step daddy - pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. You were laying on a faded lawn chair, enjoying the sun and heat in your little bikini top and cutoffs.
Itâs your birthday. Eighteen todayâfinally legal, finally an adult. Your mamaâs gone for the week, visiting your aunt in Chillicothe, leaving you alone in this creaky old house with your step-daddy.
Sheriff Lee Bodecker.
Heâd been eyeing you like forbidden fruit since the day he moved in, his uniform always crisp, that drawl dripping with something darker than authority. He wasnât exactly shy about his wandering eye and you didnât understand how your mama put up with it.
âHappy birthday sugar,â Lee drawls as he climbs out of the car. His eyes rake over your tiny sleep shorts, tits in your bikini top, hair tousled. There was no escaping that hungry stare. âCâmere and let your step-daddy give you a birthday hug.â
Heâs on you in two strides, big hands pulling you up. He grips your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his belly, the badge on his chest is cool through the fabric, a stark reminder of who he isâthe law in this town, and right now, the law wants you.
âCâmon honey, letâs go inside so we can celebrate proper. Stopped at the store on the way home and picked you up a little cake. Thought we could share with some beers.â
Your brow arched. âIâm 18, not 21.â
âI wonât tell anyone if you wonât sugar,â Lee winked with a lascivious grin.
Twenty minutes later, youâre on your second beer as you take the plates to the sink. As you turn, you see Lee run his finger through the thick buttercream before sucking it off. âMmm, so sweet,â he murmurs. âBut my sweet tooth wonders if thereâs something sweeterâŚâ
You pick up on the double entendre immediately. âLeeâŚâ
Heâs in front of you now, his large arms caging you in at the sink.
âLeeâŚâ you repeat again, your voice low and warning.
Lee paid no mind. âPartyâs just getting started sweetheart. Been patient long enough.â His mouth crashes down on yours, demanding, tongue sweeping in like he owns every inch. You push half-heartedly at his shoulders, a soft moan slipping out. Lee just chuckles against your lips, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb teasing the nipple until it pebbles.
âTurned eighteen. My good girl now. Time to give your step-daddy what heâs been cravinâ.â He tugs you effortlessly into the room adjacent to the kitchen - your room.
Fingers hook into your shorts, yanking them down with your bathing suit bottoms in one tug. You gasp as cool air hits your exposed skin, thighs pressing together instinctively. But Leeâs knee wedges between them, spreading you open. His fingers find your slick folds, circling your clit with practiced strokes that make your knees buckle.
âLee, IâIâm not sure about thisâŚâ Your voice trembles, body caught between shame and the building heat. Heat pools low as he kisses down your neck, sucking marks thatâll bruise tomorrow. âThis is wrong. I canâtâ Iâve neverâŚâ
âHow can it be wrong when wrong feels too damn good, donât it?â He spins you to face the mirror, forcing you to watch. His hand is in between your legs, two thick fingers pushing inside. The stretch burns sweet, drawing a whimper from you as he pumps slow and deep. âLook at yourself. Soakinâ for your stepdaddy already.â
He frees his cock, thick, veined, flushed dark, and rubs the head along your slit. âThere is no such thing as âenoughâ when it comes to what I want.â The words rumble against your ear as he notches at your entrance and thrusts in, not giving you time to adjust. You cry out at the fullness, tears stinging your eyes, but he holds you steady, one arm banded across your chest, the other working your clit. âFuck, so tight. Look at the sweet cunt. Sheâs takinâ me so pretty.â
Pain fades into overwhelming pleasure as he bottoms out, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. The mirror fogs with your panting breaths. His groans mix with your moansâsurrender as your body betrays you, hips rocking back to meet him. âThatâs it, baby girl. Let stepdaddy ruin this pussy.â
He fucks you harder, hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds, claiming you completely until youâre clenching around him, coming with a shattered gasp.
He buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, cock pulsing hard as he unloads. Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your pussy, so much it immediately starts pushing out around his shaft, creamy and messy, dripping down. He keeps grinding deep through it, fucking his load even further into you.
âAtta girl⌠milk every drop. Thatâs my good fuckinâ girl.â
He stays buried inside you for a long moment, panting, then slowly pulls out just to watch the creamy mess spill out of your wrecked hole.
His eyes widen at the red streaks mixed with his load. âWould you look at that,â he replies in wonder. âPopped my girlâs cherry.â
He smears the now pink mixture of your blood and his cum up over your clit with his thumb, teasing. He leans down to kiss the back of your neck all
I think one of my favorite things about ca:cw (i know, in 2026 I'M SORRY) is how, even if you look at it through a stucky lens (which I 100% do it's gay as shit), team cap isn't just about saving the man Steve loves (or his pLaToNic SoULmAte, whatever). he's also fighting to save people from (what he thinks) is a team of horrifying, brainwashed super soldiers. He is genuinely trying to save people. Not only that, but he's standing up for the basic human rights of his friends and any enhanced ppl in the future. It's romance but it has DEPTH
For real, Captain America: Civil War is so complex and I have SO MANY thoughts about it. So hereâs my ramble to address a lot of them.
As the post says, it was not just about Bucky. Not at all. The initial divide was caused by the Sokovia Accords and the differing stances they had. And you know what? They both had valid arguments.
Speaking SPECIFICALLY on the Accords (NOT the UN bombing, Zemo, Buckyâs framing, Buckyâs capture, etc). Thereâs both validity in the idea that a group as powerful as the Avengers should have more parameters and oversight. The proposal was a form of checks and balances. They also absolutely SHOULD be wary of the organization that is trying to control them. The events of The Winter Soldier (you know, where they found out one of their largest intelligence agencies was actually filled with a group that started as a Nazi rogue science division and said group was fully prepared to execute millions on the ASSUMPTION that they were a threat) were only two years before. This entire decision was going to be nuanced and complicated and messy. At this point, there was disagreement and tension. Steve was not planning to straight up fight the Accords, just not sign them. Would he just have accepted âretirementâ? Who knows. Probably not, but we donât even get there.
I think itâs also important to note that this is based on the comic storyline about the Superhero Registration Act. When we look at forcing a specific group of people who is already âotheredâ to be registered on a list, it is impossible to not consider the implications of that. Steveâs origins are in World War II. Ya know, when a fascist first started having the groups of people he was after registered and clearly marked before he started eradicating them.
Steve is then immediately thrown into MOURNING. Immediately after a poorly-ending mission has him down, the Sokovia Accords get shoved into his face, and he realizes thereâs now a big rift in his team, he finds out that Peggy has passed. Honestly, do any of us make fully rational and unemotional decisions while in the full throes of grief? Regardless of what you think of Peggy and Steve as a relationship, Peggy (and Bucky) represents Steveâs tie to the past. Sheâs his life before the twenty-first century and even before the serum. Heâs not just mourning a lost love, heâs mourning the life that he lost in 1945 (see Avengers deleted scene if you donât believe me.) My thoughts on Peggy are below the cut. I think theyâre relevant, but it is a whole side topic, and I am currently just speaking on Civil War.
Now IMMEDIATELY after attending Peggyâs funeral, Steve sees the bombing of the UN. He knows his friends are there. And itâs broadcast as the suspect being Bucky. ALL of this stress would throw the most sane person into a tailspin, donât you think?
So fast-forwarding the action and everything to do with Bucky and that fight and getting back to the civil war aspect of this movie, we get to Berlin. Now the problem here is not simply Steve aiding a fugitive. The problem is that the events were not Accords sanctioned. None of the team on the Iron Man side is CURRENTLY arguing against Bucky. Tony is even proposing that if Steve signs and they make everything legitimate that they can get Bucky into a better situation than just imprisonment. (Also, note, Steve JUST NEARLY agrees to sign at this notion!). So weâre back to the original divide (pro/anti-Accords) but now with the complication of action. This is just more intensified because Bucky is now involved.
Steve realizes very quickly that something is not right. This event was targeted and specifically for someone to get to Bucky. He does not have time to take this to the team, let alone a UN panel. (Which Iâm sure also drives his stance on the Accords). So he acts to save Bucky.
Now coming around to the airport fight scene. Steve, Sam, and Bucky fully believe that this doctor (who they donât not know is Zemo) is after the other winter soldiers. They come up with their plan to go after him. they are also well-aware that this is also not going to be Accords sanctioned. Which means they will also be going against their own friends and teammates. They need backup. Which is how they drag in Scott, Clint, and Wanda. And like with everything to do with Steve Rogers, if he believes something is right, no way in hell is he going to stand down. (Source: "Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if the whole world is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say, 'No, you move.'" In Civil War this is said by Sharon Carter in Peggyâs eulogy. As she does in TFA and TWS, it speaks to what Steve needs at this point to further motivate his defining actions. This quote is also adapted from something Cap says in the comics. âWhen the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world, âNo, you move.ââ There is a bit more than that that is worth reading, but I pulled the part that clearly inspired the quote used in the film.)
Now letâs take a moment to look the perspective of team Iron Man. Theyâve signed the Accords and agreed to oversight and a guidelines. They are trying to maintain that. They do not have the information that team Cap does regarding Bucky being framed, the doctor, the other winter soldiers, etc. To them, Steveâs gone off the deep end for his best friend from the 1940s. So now itâ s not just a disagreement, the opposition is directly violating the Sokovia Accords (which you might be thinking, obviously, they didnât sign. But weâre looking at Team Iron Manâs perspective right now and they, at this point, are trying to do damage control and are unaware that they do not have all of the variables). Thus, a battle ensues.
Catastrophe. You donât need me to analyze the fight here. I can, but thatâs not what weâre talking about. Weâre talking about the depth and nuance of CA:CW.
Moving along, we have Steve and Bucky getting to Siberia, fully under the impression that âthe doctorâ is planning to wake the other winter soldiers and wreak havoc on the world. Tony, finds out about Zemo. He realizes that Cap was right. Maybe not to the full extent, but he realizes there was a lot more at play here. So Tony, determined to help his FRIEND, violates the Accords that he just fought to defend. This is much less notable coming from someone like Tony, who is fickle and far more morally gray, but canât be dismissed as completely insignificant.
And now we have Steve, Bucky, and Tony all in Siberia to meet Zemo. Zemo has other plans. His plans all along had to do with tearing the Avengers apart. (Donât even get me started on Zemo) He is fully aware that revealing the truth about Tonyâs parents will further drive the wedge thatâs already there from the Accords.
Tony reacts. Tony is still processing. In Tonyâs mind, he has been betrayed by a friend. The problem is not that Bucky (under all the HYDRA brainwashing) murdered his parents. The problem is that Steve, his friend and teammate, withheld this information from him. Did that warrant the level of crashout that was Tony going for blood with both of them? No probably not. But also letâs consider a few things when it comes to Tony. 1. Heâs not known for being rational. 2. He is well aware that these two are highly-skilled super soldiers and probably well aware that he cannot easily kill them. 3. Itâs been a long few days. This isnât an argument for reasonable, but an argument for understandable.
So now letâs talk about this progression. Our initial conflict is a disagreement over the Accords themselves. This leads to further conflict when other events lead to the opposing side directly violating said Accords and the supporting side trying to uphold their end of the bargain. Now we have a secondary conflict, that is actually unrelated to our initial conflict, of Tony feeling betrayed by Steve.
Steve chooses Bucky. OBVIOUSLY. MCU Bucky is the absolute biggest driving force behind Steve Rogers. MCU Cap DOES NOT EXIST without Bucky. Steve drops everything for this man. REGARDLESS of if you ship Stucky, if you deny that Steveâs world revolves around Bucky Barnes, we are not watching the same movies. And that is a whole other essay.
Letâs talk about Steve and Tony though. Weâve all seen the meme about the obvious choice between your best friend of decades and that one coworker. Haha, funny. But this is another argument that really dismisses a much deeper and more nuanced relationship. We get so wrapped up in what we see on screen, that we forget that in this world thereâs a lot that we DONâT see. And information is given to us in little details. Yes, we see a TON of fighting and bickering between Steve and Tony. But we also see them very deeply trust each other and have each others backs in every other situation. Age of Ultron fully implies that the Avengers have been working together for a while. In the end when Tony is getting ready to leave, Steve tells him he will miss him. Also, bickering and name-calling do not mean that they donât actually get along regularly. Look at the relationship between Tony and Rhodey. Steve and Tony have a much deeper and more complicated relationship than âthat one coworker.â They are FRIENDS. I will die on this hill.
This brings me to my other point about Tony and his reaction. Tony gets the childish view of Steve picking between two of his friends. But really, Tony doesnât understand the depth of relationship that Steve and Bucky have. When we look at Tonyâs closest relationships, heâs got Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. None of them come close to what Steve has with Bucky. But Tony doesnât see this. He canât. His perspective on relationships is different. His closest frame of reference would be him sticking his neck out for Rhodey against the rest of the Avengers. Would he do it, hell yeah. Would he start a war over it? Probably not. You can argue that Pepper would be a better example, but that assumes both the romantic implications of Stucky (which yes we do, but I want this argument to stand even if you donât) AND Tony KNOWING that is how Steve feels about Bucky. Again, Tony does not have all of the variables.
So in conclusion, um yes. Civil War is very gay and very much deeper than it looks.
Now for my side rant about Peggy.
When we discuss Steggy vs Stucky and the character assassination of Steveâs Endgame ending or just any discussion of Peggy and Steve the argument that inevitably tries to come up is that they didnât know each other long/well/etc. First of all, thatâs not true. Peggy was working with the SSR throughout the events of the entirety of The First Avenger. This seems to get unnoticed a lot because they give us this passage of time in a montage, but the SSR, Peggy, the Howling Commandos, Stark, etc worked together for TWO WHOLE YEARS. It wasnât a couple months and it was absolutely plenty of time for Steve and Peggy to get to know each other further than the argument likes to be made.
ALSO, you can absolutely make meaningful connections in only a couple of months. So even if that was the argument, come on, itâs not a very strong one.
Peggy is SUCH a driving factor for Steve in the MCU, almost as strong as Bucky is. Sheâs shown to very quickly see him in a situation where heâs very easily dismissed. Sheâs with him when he gets the serum and after the chase. Sheâs kind to him. But she also makes him believe in himself. When she firsts finds him drawing his dancing monkey, she tells him that he was meant for more. When he heads out on his unsanctioned attempt to rescue Bucky, he looks to her for that reassurance that she believes heâs meant for something more. And she supports him! She sticks her neck out. Sheâs already struggling to get respect as a British woman working in the field with a US army division. Thereâs no way that Steve does not see the risks Peggy takes for him here. The entire conversation that they have in TWS is her telling him, âsometimes the best that we can do is start over.â You canât tell me that had no influence in Steve completely tearing down SHIELD.
My point here is not to argue Steggy over Stucky. My point is that it does nothing to the argument to dismiss Peggy as âsomeone Steve knew for a couple of months.â She was absolutely more than that. Do I think it was a good and sensible choice for Steve to ditch Bucky and everyone else and go back in time to Peggy and a very oppressive era where Peggy had ALREADY LIVED A FULL LIFE AND GOTTEN OVER HIM? Absolutely the fuck not. But you have to make the right argument, and completely dismissing Peggy is not it.
AN: roughly written & not betaâd. Also for @storiesofsvu bingo with the line: âCâmere, let me hold you.â
AN2: updated 7/22/26 removing use of Y/N.
Summary: You & Bucky spend the day at Coney Island. Super fluff + spice.
Coney Island had undergone many iterations since it started in 1829. It was still just as much a weekend escape for the working class now as it was back in the day. Three subway lines converged at the ocean, and you were on one of them, accompanied by a man who knew of Coney Island long before you did.
Thatâs what happened when your boyfriend was a centenarian.
The train roared and squealed as it made its way towards the south of Brooklyn. It was packed, with the majority excitedly heading to the beach, as it was the first day open to swimmers. You leaned your head on Buckyâs shoulder, and he wrapped his vibranium arm around you. No one batted an eye at the metal arm. Androids, aliens and wizards - the big three - were widely accepted so long as the universe didnât implode.
The subway screeched to a stop, the conductor making a very muffled announcement of its arrival at Coney Island. The throngs of people made their way out and you and Bucky waited until the majorly had cleared before departing yourselves. You were two steps ahead of Bucky, making way towards the stairs when you realized he wasnât behind you. You turned and watched as Bucky took a deep inhalation of the air, thick with the smell of sugary sweet, fried confections mixed with saltwater.
Bucky opened his eyes and met yours. âJust thinking about the last time I was here,â he shouted over the roar of an incoming train.
âCome on,â you shouted as you walked back and reached for him. âWeâre going to have a great time,â you continued as you playfully pulled him forward.
Your day date with Bucky also became a history lesson as he pointed out dramatic changes over the years from fires, rebuilds, and new parks that opened and closed over the years.
The day flew by as the two of you played various arcade games (no surprise Bucky won you the biggest teddy bear there was), ate obscene amounts of funnel cake and cotton candy, and rode the Cyclone too many times to count. You doubled over in laughter as Bucky recounted how Steve puked after riding the Cyclone.
âHe still never lets me forget it,â Bucky chuckled.
After, it was time to hit the beach. Coney Island offered three miles of sand, sun, and rolling waves.
You slipped off your shorts first, revealing your suit bottoms. Buckyâs mouth actually dropped ever so slightly as you pulled your t-shirt over your head. You wore a red checked halter one piece that made you look as if you strutted out of the 1940s itself and not the 21st century.
âDo you like it?â you asked, almost shyly, giving him a small twirl.
Bucky nodded, rubbing his bearded jaw. âYou look phenomenal.â
You lean up and forward, kissing him, your nose bumping against his slightly. Bucky holds you close with his non-vibranium arm. His lips are plush and soft against yours. He kisses you back, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
The sound of a sharp whistle interrupts the kiss and you duck your head into Buckyâs neck, feeling your cheeks heat assuming you both caught the attention of some onlookers. Bucky whipped his head towards the sound - it was a lifeguard telling some swimmers to come in.
Eventually the sun began to settle into the horizon, making way for a cooler evening. Still, the atmosphere was lively and just as crowded as it was earlier.
The final ride was the Wonder Wheel, a behemoth of a Ferris wheel. Buckyâs hand landed on your thigh and he traced small concentric circles on your bare skin. The action caused you to shiver, a jolt of heat shooting to your core. The ride jolted slightly and Bucky explained how it was just the ride pausing to let others on. The wind blew slightly and you shivered.
âCâmere, let me hold you,âBucky replied.
You snuggled close up to Bucky, taking the expansive view of the entire park and ocean.
The park eventually closed for the night and the last of the visitors left. You and Bucky were such a pair and you held his hand as you both made your way out.
âThanks for the best day,â you remarked. You turned back towards the park, an almost wistful look on your face. Bucky turned to face you and he captured your lips in a small kiss.
âYou know, it doesnât need to end.â
You looked at Bucky curiously. âWhat do you mean?â
Bucky jutted his head towards the direction of the beach. âWant to go on a late night stroll?â
You squint at him. âWhat are you up to?â
Bucky glances down at you. âCan't I just wanna spend some time with my favorite girl before the night is over?â
"Usually you have ulterior motives, James."
Bucky glowered at you before signing in defeat. "I - Fair."
**
The moon was bright in the night sky and the waves crashed along the shore. Bucky made a mad dash to the water, the sand squishing beneath his feet. He ran in until he was waist deep.
âGet in, the water is amazing!â
âIâm not getting in!â you called out in return.
Approaching you, Bucky grabbed you and spun you into the water, which resulted in you letting out a shriek. He let out a laugh before he set you down. You playfully shoved him away. You then jumped into his arms, him grabbing and holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Eventually you both made it back to the sand. You sat in between Buckyâs legs, your back to his chest.
âThis is nice,â you murmur. When you move your head to glance back at him, Bucky adjusted your position so that you were on his lap.
Buckyâs gaze fell to your lips and within a second his lips were pressed against yours. His fingers curled around your waist, the tips of his fingers rubbing tiny concentric circles against your skin as he pulled you closer.
Your fingers gripped a fistful of his dark, wet, hair â tugging sharply on it as you kissed him back. Bucky kissed you hard enough to leave your lips bruised tomorrow. As he licked hotly into your mouth, you tasted the salt from the ocean water.
Bucky gently pushed you downwards so you were laying down on the sand. He used his knee to nudge your legs apart as he covered your body with his.
He got his shirt off first, followed by your top off. You grasped his head between your hands, steered his mouth towards your tits. He latched his mouth on your nipple, already hard from the wet swimsuit. Bucky grazed his teeth along your sensitive buds before laving them with his tongue.
You clung to Bucky, desperate. He noted how your legs wrapped around his hips, how your hands felt on him, running over his shoulders and back.
Bucky kissed down between your breasts and down the length of your body. You spread your legs a bit when he got to the apex of your thighs. Your skin was cool and clammy under the ocean breeze. But it wasnât that at all that was causing you to tremble.
He pulled your bottoms off, sodden with salt water. His hand found your pussy and he cupped it, feeling the heat and slickness of your desire. His cock was achingly hard, pressed against the damp material of his swim trunks. He spread your legs apart and settled between.
Buckyâs breath was hot on your pussy and he inhaled your sweet, musky scent before diving into your folds. His tongue was warm and wet; you threw your head back as he licked a broad stripe along your folds from top to bottom before returning to settle on your clit. His tongue was firm, using the tip to flick against it. The roar of the ocean drowned out the sounds of your gasps and moans. The coarse sand on your ass was irritating to your skin but you paid no mind to it as pleasure coursed your body.
Bucky took to task on your pussy, working you with a combination of his fingers and tongue. He pushed the warm, wet muscle inside and you arched your back in response.
âSomeone is going to catch us,â you choked out, feeling your orgasm begin to crest.
âNo one is going to sweetheart. Itâs dark and weâre under the pier,â Bucky murmured before delving back to your pussy. The feel of his beard on your sensitive skin only ramped up the pleasure you were feeling. Your hand found its way to the top of his head and you gripped his hair tightly. âJust like that - oh fuck, yes Buck, just like that!â
And then youâre coming - white hot and electric, your body tightening and then snapping in release. Sound went fuzzy and you squeezed your eyes tightly. Bucky continued to languidly eat you out as your orgasm rode out.
You watched with half lidded eyes as Bucky stood above you, pushing down his own swim trunks, revealing his aching, weeping cock. You bit your lip and beckoned him with a crook of your finger.
Bucky dropped to his knees and gave his cock a pump before covering your body. You felt his cock at your entrance, the fat blunt head ready. He rubbed his cock along your slit, gathering your wetness. You were hot, wet, and ready.
âBucky, please.â
Bucky smirked and then acquiesced to your request.
Bucky pushed the head of his cock inside you and then pushed into you agonizingly slowly. You whimpered as he finally sank his length into you, bottoming out. Your eyes fluttered close as you adjusted to his size, a mix of pleasure and slight burn as he stretched you. You grasped at his back, your nails pressing half-moon marks into his skin. Bucky pulled out again and then thrust back in, harder than before. You let out an obscene moan in response.
Bucky picked up the pace, pushing into you over and over. He hooked your leg and pushed it up to your chest, changing the angle as his cock stroked your walls. âYou feel so tight around my cock, sweetheart.â He grunted.
âGive it to me, give it to me, I need it.â You whined. Bucky reached for your arm with his vibranium one and pulled it over your head, gripping it tightly.
Bucky lowered his head down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your bodies are slick with sweat and beads of sweat roll off Bucky onto yours.
Bucky continued fucking you deeply, sliding into you over and over in deep, long strokes. As he felt his own release approach, Bucky moved his lips to your neck and sucked a mark onto your skin. You chant his name - his real name - over and over again, feeling your own orgasm approach. You snake your hand down and begin to rub your clit.
âIâm going to come, oh shit, oh shit, James!â You come completely undone, wailing his name.
âCome for me doll, fuck, âm gonna come too,â Bucky groaned. Feeling your walls flutter around his cock, seeing your wrecked face - it was all too much for Bucky and with a strangled cry of your name, he stiffened and painted your walls with his release.
The two of you come to a still, your breaths both uneven. Neither one of you spoke for a bit âthe only sound was rough-breathing and the roars of the ocean crashing.
Water began to lap at you and Bucky and you both realized the tide was coming in. You both redress quickly and the walk back to the subway is punctuated with playful kisses and touches.
As the subway approached, you looked over at Bucky. âCouldnât have been a better day.â
Bucky pulled you into his chest and hummed. âAnything for my girl.â
Summary : Bucky loves his morning cuddles with his little girl
Word Count : 1.7k
A/N : This is literally so self indulgent guys. I had a dream a few days ago about this very sequence and I woke up in the middle of the night to jot down the idea so it wonât disappear in the morning
The first rays of sunlight always found Bucky awake.
Previously because of his soldier instincts. Then due to fear of not knowing where he would be when he woke up in the morning, the remnants of decades of trauma was never washed away easily.
But safe to say, there had been a time in his life when mornings meant alarms, missions, nightmares, and memories he wished would stay buried.
But now?
Mornings meant tiny socks scattered across the hallway. A stuffed bunny abandoned in the kitchen. The smell of coffee. Having you fast asleep in his bed, curled around him like he was your safe space.
And the privilege of waking up the sweetest little person he'd ever known.
His daughter.
Sweet little Rebeccaâor becca as bucky liked to call herâstill wonderfully round in all the places toddlers were meant to be. Chunky wrists with little bracelet-like dimples. Soft thighs that made every pair of leggings look stuffed. Permanently rosy cheeks that begged to be kissed.
And every single morning, Bucky insisted on waking her himself. It had quietly become his favorite part of the day.
You would already be downstairs most mornings, making breakfast when you hear Bucky's footsteps heading toward the nursery instead of the kitchen.
Without fail.
Every day.
"You know," youâd called one morning while whisking pancake batter, "you could let her wake up on her own."
"I could."
"But you won't?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
His answer came immediately. "Cause I like seeing the moment she remembers she's my kid."
It made no sense, but to him, it meant everything.
He padded silently down the hallway, careful to avoid the one floorboard that always creaked, and slowly pushed open the nursery door.
The room was washed in soft golden light. Nursery curtains glowing with morning sunlight. The room smelled faintly of baby lotion and lavender and detergent.
And fast asleep in the middle of her little crib, somehow having rotated herself almost completely sideways during the night, one tiny foot was sticking out from under the blanket, was her.
Ten months old Rebecca barnes whose palm was the same size of bucky's heart because ever since the day she had arrived, the little fingers had iron grip on his heart.
Her favorite stuffed bunny was upside down beside her. Her little mouth hung open ever so slightly. Tiny body sprawled dramatically across the bed. Blanket kicked halfway off. One sock missing.
And her hair...Her hair deserved its own zip code. It stuck up in every possible direction. A few curls falling into her eyes resting beside the lashes of her close eyelids.
Bucky leaned against the doorway and just...Looked.
His heart never seemed prepared for this sight. Every morning he thought âHow did we make something this precious?â
He padded over quietly. Tiptoeing so the floorboards wonât creak beneath him.
She slept with one little fist tucked under her cheek.
Smushy.
Squishy.
Perfect.
He crouched beside the bed. Metal fingers stayed carefully tucked against his palm while his flesh hand reached out.
His fingertips slid gently through the wild nest of curls. "Look at that bed hair..." his voice was barely louder than a whisper. "My goodness."
Another tiny stroke over her head. "What happened to you?" He paused as the little girl frowned in her sleep. "I think birds moved in."
She stayed asleep through buckyâs rambling. Probably already accustomed to having a dad who loved talking to her.
He smiled, a metal finger skimming over her perfectly round, squishy cheek. "You got squirrels living up here, sweetheart?"
Her nose scrunched. Just a little, barest of the movement.
Bucky grinned immediately. "There she is." His fingers rubbed slow circles over her scalp as he continued talking.
"So pretty..."
Another stroke.
"My sleepy little bear."
Another caress.
"My chunky monkey."
He poked one of her cheeks. "Oh no! What happened to these?" He gently squished both cheeks together. "They got all smushy."
He couldnât resist pressing soft kisses on her cheeks "Mama's gonna need to fluff these back up."
A tiny sleepy grumble sounded from her and buckyâs smile widened "There is my grumpy girl"
One eyelid slowlyy cracked open, just enough to reveal one sleepy blue eye. It stared at him blankly before closing again.
"No, no." He chuckled. "You can't trick Daddy."
HIs lips pressed onto her forehead in another kiss "I saw your eye."
She made the tiniest protesting noise. "Nuh..."
"Oh yes."
"Nuh."
"Oh yes."
He stroked the little curls away from her face as he saw a pout forming on the tiny mouth of his sleepy baby. "Can Daddy see those beautiful eyes?"
Silence.
"I think they're hiding."
"Did they disappear?"
He gasped dramatically. "I'll have to tell Mama." The kid paid no heed to his words, still pretemding to sleep. "My baby's eyes are gone!"
That earned him another sleepy protest. "Dada..."
"There they are!" He beamed as she opened her eyes to frown at him, which looked eerily similar to the disappointed glare youâd give him when he talked about adopting yet another kitten. "I knew they were in there."
She finally blinked both eyes open, slowly. Like opening them required tremendous effort and simply stared. Processing the surrounding in the sleepy haze, until she noticed her favourite person leaning over the crib, smiling at her.
The smallest smile spread across her face despite her offense at being waked from her sleep. "Dada..."
His heart melted into absolute mush. "There she is." He kissed her forehead. âMorning, sunshine."
Tiny arms reached toward him automatically. Like she'd done it every morning of her life. She didn't even think about it anymore. She simply expected Daddy to be there.
Sometimes when she woke up on her own and bucky wasn't around immediately or youâthe spare humanâfound her in the morning before he did, the sleepy little glare your grumpy girl gave you was enough to summon a tiny thunderstorm.
But it wasn't like she didn't love you. She would run to you to show her stick drawings and babble away telling you every silly story she came up with while you brush her hair. She loved you with all her tiny heart, you were her mom after all. But mornings belonged to Daddy. No matter what, he was the person she expected to see when she opened her eyes everyday.
Bucky gathered her carefully into his arms. "Oh..." He groaned dramatically. "What is this?" He bounced her once. "Someone got heavier."
You always teased him that he said this every single day.
He did.
Because every single day she somehow felt bigger than yesterday. "My goodness." He settled onto the rocking chair. "I think somebody ate rocks."
She rested her head against his shoulder. Already melting back into sleep.
"No?" He rubbed her back slowly. "You just got extra cuddly?"
She answered in a tiny nod against his shirt, still fighting sleep. "I thought so."
The rocking chair creaked gently as bucky swayed back and forth, wrapping both arms around her. She fit perfectly against his chest.
Always had.
He rested his cheek against the top of her head sighing contentedly. "I missed my morning cuddle."
She mumbled something unintelligible.
"I know." bucky kissed the top of her head "I missed you too."
By the time you abandoned making breakfast to join them in the nursery because of overwhelming FOMO, she was drifting again.
Bucky knew all the signs. The heavy breathing. The completely limp body. The tiny fingers relaxing around his shirt.
And you had walked in to the sight you have the pleasure to see almost every morning.
Bucky rocking your little girl in the chair while she stayed tucked against his chest like it was the most comfy spot in the whole house.
You simply looked at him for a moment. His chin resting on the messy hair of your half-asleep toddler curled against his chest. He looked happier like this than you had ever seen.
"Bucky" you whispered from the doorway.
He looked over, eyes brightening at the sight of you "Hey."
You smiled knowingly. "She's falling asleep again."
"I know."
"So why are you still rocking her?"
He looked genuinely confused. "Cause she's comfy."
"You know she'll sleep another hour if you keep this up."
"I know."
You folded your arms. "So..."
"So..?"
"...you're still going to keep cuddling her?"
He looked down at the tiny girl. One chunky little arm was wrapped around his neck. The other had somehow found his hair. She was lightly snoring against his chest.
He looked back at you. "I've waited almost a hundred years to have someone who wants morning cuddles." His voice was quiet, gentle. "I'm gonna hold her as long as she'll let me."
Your eyes softened instantly. There wasn't a single teasing remark left. Because you knew. You knew exactly where that sentence came from.
THe stolen decades of his life, the denied comfort of feeling human, every emotion weaponised against him.
But now...
Now his mornings were filled with sleepy giggles, tangled curls, and warm little hugs. And he wasn't taking a second of it for granted.
You crossed the room before leaning down and kissing the top of his head then the toddlerâs.
"You know she's going to stop wanting to be carried someday."
"I know."
"And one day she'll wake up before you demanding pancakes."
"I know."
"And eventually she'll probably tell you she's too old for morning cuddles."
He swallowed. "I know."
You smiled softly. "So enjoy every minute."
He looked down at the tiny girl sleeping peacefully against him. "I plan to."
He gently kissed one smushy cheek. Then another. "My sleepy little bug."
A tiny smile appeared on the toddler's face even in her sleep. As if somewhere in her dreams she knew, daddy was holding her.
And as long as he was holding her, mornings were warm, safe, and full of whispered compliments about messy bed hair, squishy cheeks, and the chunkiest little arms in the whole wide world.
Bucky didnât have much fight left in him, but when he heard the familiar words out of Steveâs mouth, he had to do something. Steve was too determined; he would fight to the death. And if he died trying to protect Bucky, well, what would Bucky have to live for anyway?
So Bucky did what heâd spent his whole life doing. He put everything he had into keeping Steve Rogers from getting his ass beaten.
He reached out, summoning all of his strength to ignore the screams of pain through his body, and he grabbed a red and gold boot.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
#105: Use the words fireworks, kiss and midnight in your next story.
#351: "I could kiss you right now!" "You're very welcome to do it."
#399: "Kiss me or kill me, but make up your mind right now."
#412: "One kiss before we die?" "You can get the kiss when we survive, so move!"
#447: Kissing in the rain sounds romantic until one of them ends up with pneumonia.
#488: "You kissed me." "You kissed me back." "And I'm not here to apologize."
#490: "I would appreciate it, if you would kiss me right now."
#555: "If you don't kiss me, right nowâŚ" "Then what?" "Then I will have to do it myself."
#577: "Are you going to hit me if I kiss you?" "I might if you don't."
#670: The kiss cam definitely had it in for her.
#832: "Why do I feel like that dog gets more kisses than me?"
#875: "When did you find out?" "When you kissed me, probably."
#978: She was not the type of person to back down from a dare. And everything he did was daring her to kiss him.
#1002: "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "Then do it. Get it out of your head."
#1005: "Would you kiss me for 100�" "Sorry, but I don't have any cash on me right now." "No, I mean I would give you 100⏠to kiss me." "Why would you give me money to do something I would pay money to do?"
#1008: "It was just a kiss." "I know. But does it have to be just that?"
#1010: "Let's not worry about the future. Let's just take this one kiss at a time." "I like how that sounds."
#1016: All their kisses so far had been full of anger. Too rough, too desperate. This one was their first kiss that was soft, without urgency.
#1061: "I have wanted to kiss you every time I've seen you smile." "Then why haven't you yet?"
#1080: "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?"
#1087: She wanted it all. The lazy mornings in bed, the fight over which movie to watch, the bumping into each other in their small kitchen. The disagreements and the tears and the kisses and their love. For once she wanted to be selfish, and she wanted to have it all.
#1122: "Well, I did kiss you back, didn't I?"
#1128: "You really love me? This is not a prank, right? Because then I would have to punch you and I actually really want to kiss you."
#1266: "Why is your stupid face just so kissable?"
#1303: "You almost kissed me." "And you sound disappointed that I didn't."
More: Kisses Masterpost
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'he would not fucking say that' maybe he would if he knew he was starring in his very own porn fic for the sole purpose of delighting some freaks on archive of our own dot org. maybe he'd play it up for the cameras. ever consider that
âYou blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead.â
âWhat was her name again?â
âDoes he know?â she asked as he picked up another baseball.
âHa!â Bucky huffed, throwing the ball a bit too hard and only knocking down the bottle at the top. âStubborn punk ainât got a clue.â He missed the bottles entirely that time.
She patted his shoulder while he pulled out another nickel. She looked off to where Alice stood with Steve.
âWhatâs your plan? Win him a stuffed bear and hope he gets the hint?â
Another couple came close and she twirled her red curls around her finger, leaning into Bucky flirtatiously.
âI donât know, Dot. I donât know.â
~~~~~~~~
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The following works deal with dark and taboo topics, including but not limited to: dubcon/noncon, consanguinity (incest), sexual assault. The stories are very much DDDNE (dead dove do not eat). Each story has proper warnings at the beginning. The author trusts that you know your own triggers before you proceed. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY. Do not come to me with complaints - complaints will be deleted and ignored.
Asking him if he still loves you while he's balls deep in a post-orgasm bliss and he just groans and goes "christ, I bought a ring last week" and that's how you find out he was planning to propose đ
AN: Sloth 02, for @theoracleofsin event Summer of Sin: âItâs too late to fix it now, so why don't you just lie down here in the dark with me?"
AN2: Divider courtesy of @saradika-graphics
đ¨WARNINGđ¨DDDNE (Dead Dove Do Not Eat) The following work deals with stepcest. The author also trusts that you know your own triggers before you proceed. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY.
đŠContent WarningđŠ language, stepcest, relations between step-brother & step-sister, including but not limited to: kissing, dry humping, fingering, groping.
If the above makes you uncomfortable in any way, please do not continue. Your mental health should always be a priority. Complaints to the inbox will be ignored/deleted. Youâve been warned plenty.
You slip into the quiet beach house after midnight, the wooden stairs creaking under your bare feet. The family vacation was supposed to be chill, a respite from college finals. You just wrapped up your first year at NYU with your brother, Bucky. Unlike many traditional students, the two of you commuted to/from Manhattan. The perks of living in Brooklyn.
And if you want to be technical, Bucky is your stepbrother.
Bucky is also the guy whoâs been glaring at you like he wants to either fight you or fuck you since your parents got hitched last year. Maybe both.
Nothingâs ever neutral with Bucky Barnes around.
The living room is dark except for the faint glow of the ocean through the big windows. You freeze when you see him already on the oversized sectional, one arm slung behind his head, shirtless in those low-slung gray sweatpants that should be illegal. Moonlight cuts across the hard lines of his chest. He doesnât look surprised to see you. Like he was waiting.
âCouldnât sleep either, huh?â His voice is low, rough.
You swallow, clutching the hem of your oversized sleep shirt. âJust⌠getting water.â
But you donât move. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in off the water. Weeks of thisâsniping at each other during family dinners, him âaccidentallyâ brushing against you in the kitchen, you catching him staring when he thinks youâre not looking. The tensionâs been building since that stupid fight last month while you were cramming for exams. It ended with him pinning you against the wall and growling that you were driving him fucking crazy.
He shifts, patting the cushion next to him. âCâmere.â
âBucky.â
âItâs too late to fix it now,â he murmurs, eyes locked on yours, dark and intense in the shadows, âso why donât you just lie down here in the dark with me?â
Your heart slams against your ribs. This is crossing every line. The kind of wrong that makes your thighs press together even as your brain screams bad idea. But your feet carry you over anyway. You sink onto the couch, keeping a careful foot of space between you. He doesnât let it stay that way. One big hand curls around your waist, tugging you closer until your curves are pressed against his solid warmth, your breasts brushing his side, your thigh draping over his.
âFuck, you feel good,â he breathes, nose brushing your hair. His fingers trace lazy circles on your hip, slipping under the shirt to find bare skin. âBeen thinking about this since you walked in wearing that little bikini earlier. Acting all innocent while your ass is out there tempting me.â
âBucky, we canât.â Your protest is weak and breathy, because his other hand is already sliding up your thigh, calloused palm rough and possessive.
âToo late, doll.â His voice drops, lips ghosting your ear. âParents are asleep upstairs. House is quiet. And Iâve been hard for you for months. You gonna keep pretending you donât want it too?â
You shiver as he kisses your neck, slow and open-mouthed, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. His hand cups one of your breasts, thumb circling your nipple through the thin fabric until itâs aching. âGod⌠been dying to get my hands on you properly. So fucking soft and perfect.â
You arch into him without meaning to, a little whimper escaping. He chuckles darkly, flipping you so youâre straddling his lap, your panties grinding against the thick bulge in his sweats. âThatâs it. Ride it a little. Let me feel how wet you already are for your stepbrother.â
His words are filthy and loving all at once, hands worshipping every inch like heâs claiming whatâs always been his. He pulls your shirt up and off, mouth latching onto your breast, sucking and biting while his fingers dip between your legs, pushing your panties aside to stroke your slick folds.
âSuch a good girl for me,â he growls against your skin. âGonna make you come on my fingers first, then my cock. Quiet, though little sister. We donât want them hearing how bad their sweet little daughterâs cunt needs her big brotherâs cock.â
You bury your face in his shoulder, rocking against him as he works you open, two thick fingers curling just right while his thumb teases your clit. The ocean waves crash outside, matching the rhythm building inside you. Itâs wrong. Itâs everything.
He flips you onto your back suddenly, hovering over you, sweatpants shoved down just enough to free himself. âLook at me,â he demands, lining up at your entrance. âWant to see those pretty eyes when I finally fuck you.â
You bite your lip hard, those your eyes wide and glassy as you take him in.
Fuck, heâs big. Your mouth waters at the idea of sucking him and swallowing his load.
You grin and hook your thumbs onto your panties. You lift your hips, ready to pull them down. âThen come take whatâs always been yours dear brother.â