|She/her | 30+| lurker and avid reader| And crawling on the planet's face, some insects called the human race. Lost in time, and lost in space... and meaning.
âNOTHING COMES FROM NOTHING, NOTHING EVER COULD."
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: After being cheated on by your longtime boyfriend, you find yourself coming back to your hometown jobless and with very little money, trying to find a new purpose in life. At the same time US Army Captain Steve Rogers, now working as a diplomat for the US Government, just got transferred in Italy (Tuscany to be more specific) with his three kids. Left alone after his wife passed years ago, the Captain struggles to build a relationship with his kids and finds it even more difficult to find a proper educator for them who's also willing to follow his strict rules. With the help of your best friend you manage to get the job and start to know him and his kids better. Will your positive attitude and kind behaviour be able to soften the tough and grumpy Captain?
Warnings: angst, slowburn, fluff, SMUT. (Detailed warnings will be added in each chapter - *indicates chapters with smut)
This story is slightly inspired by the movie âThe Sound of Musicâ and by me thinking about how great Chris Evans would be playing Captain Von Trapp in a remake of the original movie.
Feedback is very welcome, reblogs are golden. I don't allow my work to be copied or reposted on other websites. Don't steal other people stuff!!! MINORS DNI - DO NOT read unless you're 18+ thank you!
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN*
EPILOGUE*
TAGLIST IS OPEN! Send me an ask or a DM in case you'd like to be tagged!âșïžđ
ngl seb in political animals could've and 100% would've been chris' "oh shit am i into this" moment
You are 100% right. And ok look hereâs the thing. HEREâS THE THING
Political Animals aired in mid 2012. They started filming CA:TWS in early 2013.
Now, if we say that they didnât hook up in 2010 while filming TFA (warp reality to fit your needs itâs a handy trick), this totally could have happened.
Now that heâs doing another movie with this guy, he wants to see more of his filmography. He searches it on his laptop, and the first thing to come up is Political Animals. He *very innocently* clicks on it, settles in with a beer, maybe.
The first episode is good. Seb is good. He clicks play on the next.
This episode⊠Look, itâs good too, but. Someoneâa manâpushes Seb onto a bed and theyâre kissing and clearly doing⊠other stuff.
Chris isnâtâ he isnât turned on by it. Is not. Heâs simply admiring another actor, a friendâs, work. Heâs admiring the curve of Sebâs neck, his lips, the cut of his jaw because it shows he⊠knows his angles. Or something.
Heâs leaning closer to the screen and replaying the scene because⊠fuck.
Chris slams the laptop shut, probably too hard. Speaking of too hardâ double fuck.
Itâs not like he has anything against men who like men. He even went through a phase of questioning in high school when he was the theater nerd and people were calling him names⊠but⊠this is different. This is a friend and a co-worker and this isâ
Fuck.
Raking a hand through his hair and pulling it a bit, he tries to think of ways he can think himself out of this one. There are none he can think of. Mostly thereâs just questions.
This hotel room with questionable decor is a really shitty place to have a life realization. If thatâs what this isâŠ
Okay wait. How does he know? How does he know know. Maybe this was just a⊠a fluke. Yeah. Maybe he just needs to⊠to watch it again. Or gay porn? No that doesnât seem like it would be helpful.
Fuck.
â
The next couple weeks, heâs weird. He feels weird, he tries not to act weird but fails miserably if the behavior of the people around him is anything to go by.
Seb definitely notices. Especially when Chris goes back to calling him Sebastian like they havenât known each other for years.
He eventually talks to Scott, who gives him shit, but at least itâs minimal shit. He does⊠explain some things. About attraction and labels and⊠other stuff.
Heâs still very⊠unsure. Of everything. Heâs rewatched that scene more than heâll ever admit. Heâs staring at Sebâs lips a lot, and trying to picture what the extra muscle looks like on his frame, and imagining running his tongue over said muscle⊠But just because heâs aware of it doesnât mean he can stop.
He can do this. He can push through a little longer and then he can take time to figure himself out.
â
He canât do this.
Somehow Chris had ended up here, in a bar. A karaoke bar, to be specific. And somehow, heâd ended up tipsy. And singing. With Seb.
The one thing Scott had told him was to try not to get drunk with Seb.
But now heâs here and theyâre singing fucking âCanât Fight This Feelingâ by fucking REO Speedwagon andâ
Look, if the lyrics hit a little close to home and the way Seb is looking at him sparks heat in his stomach, nobody has to know. Seb certainly doesnât have to know.
He hopes Seb doesnât know.
He hopes Seb knows everything, can somehow read his mind.
The end of the song finds them with an arm around each other, and Chris isnât sure how they that happened. He hands the mic off, mutters something about needing a smoke, and searches for an exit.
You never think about how wonderful cool air is until you feel it on your face after pushing out of a crowded bar. Chris leans heavily against the brick.
The alley is deserted, thank God. Just him and his thoughts and the sounds of the city.
Maybe thereâs no answer to this. Maybe heâs meant to stay in this limbo between lust and knowing himself. Maybe itâs God or the universeâs way of telling him to slow down.
Heâs in the midst of going through his contacts for a lawyer that might be able to get him out of his Marvel contract, when the door beside him pushes open. He expects someone stumbling; maybe sick, maybe laughing. He doesnât expect messy brown hair and soft eyes and a smile that could bring a man to his knees.
âHey.â
âHey.â
Seb cocks his head. âThought you were out here to smoke.â
âJust needed a break,â Chris shrugs.
âI get that,â Seb says, shifting to lean against the brick beside Chris. He looks up at the sky like he can actually see the stars.
âWhyâre you out here?â
Seb turns that smile on Chris and nudges his shoulder. âChecking on you.â
âIâm fine.â
âI know youâre fine,â Seb says Just thought⊠Maybe you could be better?â
âBetter?â
âChrist, youâre gonna make me spell it out?â
Chris raises his eyebrows expectantly. Where the fuck is this going?
âLook Iââ Seb starts. âTell me if Iâm off base and Iâll shut up but⊠Iâve been getting a vibe from you recently.â
âA vibe?â
âYes, a vibe. Look what Iâm saying isâ Do you want me to suck your dick or not? âCause I canât figure it out and itâs driving me insane andââ
âDo I what?â Chris is sure heâs hallucinating. How else would this be happening? Maybe someone gave him bad weed, maybe someone slipped something in his drink because thereâs no way this is actuallyâ
âIâll take that as a no then. Forget what I said, sorry about that.â
Seb turns to leave, and Chris is still trying to catch up with his thoughts, to process what he heard, but Seb is leaving and he needs to do something.
He reaches out and grabs Sebâs wrist before he can think better of it. Seb spins around and Chris pulls and Sebâs back meets the brick. And heâsâ heâs right there. After so long imagining it, Seb is finally in Chrisâ hands.
A soft oh falls from Sebâs lips. Chrisâ breath stops in his lungs.
âYeah?â Sebâs voice is quiet, nearly indistinguishable from the passing cars. But Chris sees his lips move in the dim light, feels his breath across his faceâŠ
âYeah.â
All at once, Seb is pushing into him. Wrapping arms around Chrisâ shoulders and almost touching their lips together, just the barest whisper of air between them.
Chris is the one leans forward, just enough for their lips to meet, and his pulse is pounding in his ears.
He slowly pushes Seb back against the brick, surrounds him as Seb deepens their kiss. And thisâthe kissing, the teasing, the movingâChris knows how to do this.
Summary: Bucky's recent purchase has implications for your relationship.
Word Count: 1440
Warnings: 1400 words of fluff with a hint of implied adult sexual themes. There's a detail from TFATWS, though it's not a plot spoiler, I'm mentioning it for the purists out there who haven't seen the show.
A/N: This is my entry for The Hoeing to Hozier challenge hosted by the brilliant @the-iceni-bitch . Congrats Natalie, on your 1K followers and thank you for hosting this unique challenge! It introduced me to more of Hozier's music that I'd been sleeping on and made me push through a writing funk. Sorry it's late. I hope you enjoy this dose of Bucky fluffiness! đ
Prompt: There, all of you a verb in perfect view - Movement
Youâre a dozen footsteps into Buckyâs apartment, standing in the living room when you notice it. âYou bought a bed?â
The answerâs obvious, after all itâs staring right at you at the end of the hallway. Neatly made, white linens tucked just so, and a folded blue plaid blanket draped across. But this is Bucky Barnes and his having a bed is rife with symbolism. To say you're shocked is an understatement.
âYeah.â He rubs his right hand along the back of his neck like heâs tamping down a sudden case of nervousness. âItâs about time I got one.â
His succinct answer acknowledges the importance of the new purchase yet leaves you questioning what he really means. Typical Bucky Barnes. The manâs an enigma in jeans and a henley as he stands like a god outlined in the afternoon sun. Truth be told, you wouldnât mind it one bit if part of your lifeâs work included unraveling all there is to know about one James Buchanan Barnes.
And to think it all started with a collision of random events, like being seated next to each other and a dinner date who was running ridiculously late after taking the wrong train. You didnât know then that the man from another time was right on time for you. That youâd stumble, trip and fall into a slow burn spanning three seasons of friendship and trust to end up where you are now: contemplating the meaning of the bed on the edge of your peripheral vision.
Is this another step in his acclimation to civilian life, a willingness to embrace the softness and comfort he deserves? Happiness flutters in your chest and you reach for his hand.
âYou deserve good things, Buck. You really do.â He deserves the world but you resist telling him that, knowing it would be too much right now.
His lashes fall and he shifts his head to avoid eye contact. Heâs still a little shy when it comes to praise and compliments. Itâs why Bucky Barnes has never beaten you in a staring contest, much to Sam Wilsonâs bewilderment. One adoring look from you and those blue eyes of his blink every time. But thereâs a hint of a smile as he absorbs your words instead of automatically dismissing them like he used to. Healing and recovery have come in subtle, gradual shifts in thought and behavior.
Itâs about time I got one.
Or was he hinting at finally being ready for a more intimate relationship? Maybe a combination of both?
Happiness morphs into hopefulness and a faster heart rate. Youâre imagining both of you in his brand new bedâhow could you not, when he kisses you senseless at the end of every date, when heâs starred in your daydreams long before he so sweetly asked you to go steady? Now youâre the one brushing a hand behind your neck, trying to soothe an overactive imagination that went from Disney sweet to something very, very x-rated. Sensing the need for levity you add, âBut lemme guess, you bought the firmest one you could find, right?â
âI was going to,â he laughs then adds with a more serious tone, âbut then I thought of youâŠâ
Oh.
Suddenly the bed sitting beyond the doorway has taken on a bold, intimate meaning. You and Bucky are headed to a new phase. Itâs in the atmosphere, a promise blooming into reality. He turns to the record player in one fluid movement. The apartment is wrapped in the nostalgia and romance of 40s jazz. Mid-tempo piano leads a vibrant horn section.
âCome here.â He stretches his right arm towards you, inviting you closer. âDance with me.â
Bucky holds you close, light and confident on his feet as he leads you around his living room. Itâs incredible how a body can move with such delicate elegance yet be capable of brute force.
âI love dancing with you, Buck,â you whisper as you bask in his warmth. I love seeing you happy like this. I love being this close to you. I love you.
He tips his head to look down at you and his pretty mouth forms a smile. âWe make a good team, donât we?â he says before he twirls you around with well-honed power and grace.
Heâs pure magic in motion when he dances. Itâs a joy to witness him like this, a joy that weaves its way into your soul.This is who he was supposed to be before he was stolen from a riverbank in the Alps: light, outward reaching, smiling, open. This is who he is when his guarded reticence falls away completely.
âSo you think about me?â
âI sure do, sweetheart.â His voice is sinfully sweet and the day-old stubble covering his chin brushes your ear. The vibranium hand at the small of your back presses you closer like he knows you both crave more contact. âAll the time. And when Iâm lucky...I dream about you too.â
Oh, can this man flirt.
You canât help but stumble, trip and fall a little more in love. How could you not when the deck was already so deliciously stacked against you? Heâs old world charisma, advanced science, and a complicated history in flesh and metal. A leading man whoâd been forced into a role so viciously opposite his true nature and made to live on the dark fringes of humanity. But heâs scripted his redemption on his own terms.
âWhat do you dream about?â
He studies you for a moment while you sway together. Blue eyes shimmer with secrets you pray heâll share and then his gaze shifts to your mouth. âIâd rather show you.â
âYouâre such a tease, Barnes.â
âNever heard you complain before...quite the opposite.â
You bury your head in the crook of his neck in bashful defeat. He smells like sunshine, worn leather and fresh laundry detergent.
âAww, donât be shy, darlinâ,â he coos while his thumb brushes over your knuckles in soothing sweeps. Another song begins but Bucky stands still. He tips your chin up and kisses your cheek. His mouth catches your lower lip. A slow, deliberate flick of his tongue follows. Just enough to make you want more. He does it again, his tongue teases your upper lip this time. You watch each other through half-closed eyes like youâre both waiting on the other one to make the next move. The gap between you closes with a kiss that leaves you both breathless.
But youâve been here before, with the sweet sting of kisses on your lips and wanting more, only to have him stop though you sensed he didnât really want to.
Part of the hesitation belonged to the old soul who relished the rituals of courtship like first dates and holding hands and seeing your face light up because he remembered your favorite flower. A bigger part though, belonged to the soldier whoâd existed solely for the next assignment, overburdened with guilt and devoid of human connection, affection and pleasure.
The past three seasons are tiny droplets of time in comparison to the decades that came before you. Yet theyâve added an infinite sweetness to his days. And along the way Bucky rediscovered the pleasure, the honest to godâs pleasure, of living. For the first time in almost a century he had something of his own to look forward to: the promise of a new love. So Bucky finally bought a bed. For himself...because of you.
His fingers trail along the neckline of your pretty dress before pausing at the top button. With a deftness that surprises himâ1943 was a long time ago, after allâhe releases one, two then three buttons, revealing more of you. He licks his bottom lip at the sight of your bra, at the sight of his girl, so soft, pretty and waiting for him. He nuzzles the spot below your ear and hovers over your racing pulse point with a satisfied smile.
âBuck,â you whisper as your fingers rake through his hair, asking for more. Thereâs a note of pure wonder in your voice when you call out his name. Buckyâs certain itâs the sweetest sound heâs ever heard until now.
He lifts his head and cups your face in his hands. You repeat his name and Bucky almost melts at the way youâre looking up at him.
âTell me what you like, sweetheart.â Your eyes widen for a second and Buckyâs convinced youâd duck away if his hands werenât framing your face. âAnd, donât be shy,â he says and slowly backs you down the hallway. âI promise Iâll give you everything you want, if you let me.â
*Thanks for reading! Your comments and reblogs are absolutely welcome. No reposting on other platforms, please.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Your feelings arenât a burden to Bucky Barnes.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Fluff, crying, Bucky being amazing (is that a warning?)
This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own
I have a lot of feelings and I just wanted fluff with Bucky. Enjoy, lovelies!
Opening up wasnât an easy thing for you. Talking wasnât the issue. You could somehow carry on a conversation with just about anyone. But the things that really mattered, like your feelings, were harder to discuss. You conditioned yourself a long time ago to put them aside.Â
So I reblogged this exactly a week ago because I thought it was funny and uh lo and behold, a family friend wrote me a big olâ check just to help me out of a tough financial spot AND my bank refunded me $32 for fees theyâd originally taken out. SO UH YEAH. Reblogging this again in hopes that it brings equally good fortune to my followers.
I canât stop thinking about grumpy Stevie Baby today, about the way heâd both snarl and purr when James rolls and saddles in real close as he sleeps early one morning, nosing at Steveâs jaw and his neck.
âCome to work with me,â James demands lightly, voice basement deep and all vibration against Steveâs skin.
âNo.â
âMmm, not a request. Come on, honey...â James breathes into his ear, petting his arm, giving his shoulder and ear little kisses. I canât stop thinking about how, some mornings, James wakes up and doesnât want to be physically away from Steve whatsoever, how sometimes the thought of him not being within an arms-reach of his Daddy makes James anxious all over.
âNo,â Steve huffs again, defiant to his core even as he wiggles back and presses the curve of his ass against Jamesâ morning erection. James gives him a gentle squeeze all over, another set of featherlight kisses.
âCâmon. Iâm gonna go turn the shower on. Come join me...â
I canât stop thinking about how in love James would feel in moments like those grumpy morning showers. Yes, heâs a bit anxious, but very few things can top the way Huffy Baby Rogers acts on these days. Itâs like he knows that James needs to dote more openly, has more patience, that give and take naturally occurring flawlessly.
Steve refusing to wash himself, would rather curl up against his Daddyâs front and try to catch any extra second of sleep he can, than lift his arms and bathe himself. Steve purring, louder and louder the more skin James covers in suds and soap, those purrs turning into whimpers with each minuscule and then deliberate press of his hips, his dick, against his Daddyâs belly.
I canât stop thinking about the way James would look down at Steve, nose to nose, pushing Steveâs hair back from his forehead, as he fists Steveâs dick under the steamy spray of water, watching firsthand how openly his baby yields to him, how he just lets his Daddy make him feel good. One pinch to the tip of his dick has Steve spilling between their bodies, gasping and whining into Jamesâ neck as his Daddy presses coos and kisses into Steveâs cheek, his nose, his jaw.
âNo, baby,â Daddy would tell him as his shaky hands reach for Jamesâ achy cock, âLater.â
I canât stop thinking about how adorable Steve would be after he throws on some jeans and one of his Daddyâs few and far between hoodies, the way heâd still be so sleepy and now a bit floaty from his orgasm. James would have to smear his moisturizer onto his cheeks, rub it in, grab socks, shoes, put them next to Steve on the bed as he goes to get himself ready.
âDonât pout, câmon,â James presses from the bathroom.
âYou want coffee? Huh? One of those frozen ones you say you hate but you love to drink?â
Steve doesnât say anything from the bed as he puts on his shoes but James and feel the glare on his back. James barely hears the, âExtra whipped cream...â
Venti Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino. Frozen and sugary and far too sweet for Jamesâ taste but it gets Steve to the office without too many grumbles so he likes to think he gets that sugar rush anyway. Seeing Darcy at the front desk brings a smile to Stevieâs face as well, always does.
âWhatâd he drag you here for?â she asks with a smile and Steve gets an eye roll out, a, âGood fucking question,â out as well before James is mumbling, âGood morning to you too, Darcy...â.
Oh, the way James has all of these things around his office set aside for Steve on these days: a blanket for couch naps and snuggles, a jar of Peach Rings on his desk that have become a permanent fixture and is always fully stocked for a boy who loves sugar, a book of crossword puzzles, a sketch pad and some nice pencils. Subtle purpose, all for Steve to preoccupy himself with as Daddy works.
I canât help but think of the moment there is an impromptu meeting in Jamesâ office, 4-5 men in suits spread around his desk, James lounging on the couch and sipping on some afternoon tea. The looks he would get as he took the opportunity to sketch, the way James would get hot around his collar as someone looks at Steve one too many times, the snap James would give to that person, a focus snap, but Steve humming as soon as he hears it, eyes immediately on his Daddy.
A natural.
âWeâll finish later. Out,â is all James can get out as he watches Steve watch him from across the room, cheeks beet red from his improper assumption, Jamesâ morning election returning with a vengeance.
âCâmere,â he murmurs with the tip of his chin, reveling in the graceful way Steve rises and glides across the room, focus unwavering, sea-blue eyes swallowed up and consumed by the darkest of night-sky color as Steve settles himself between Daddyâs spread thighs without needing to be told to.
âSweet boy...â
I canât help but think of those days where James brings Steve to work being ones that end around lunchtime, always turning into half-days with a brief, âDarcy, just forward all my calls to voicemail for the rest of the afternoon, thank you,â given on the way out the door, a flushed and glossy-eyed Steve in tow.
I donât know, I just canât stop thinking about the two of them ending up back in bed where they should have stayed in the first place, where they spend the rest of the afternoon and into the evening until their limbs are sore and their lips are cherry red and their bodies and hearts have had their fill of each other for now...đ„°đ„șđ
(@sheetsforwhichimmade and I always talk about them and this is something we recently discussed that we just love so much I had to share đ)
Summary: After dating Bucky in secret you end up meeting each of his teammates through increasingly bizarre encounters. [Fluff and humor]
Authors Note: This story takes place after Strange Courting Rituals of Reformed Hydra Assassins but itâs not necessary to have read it beforehand.Â
You meet Steve a month after you start dating Bucky in one of the most mortifying experiences of your life.Â
It happens on a Saturday morning.Â
Youâre up much earlier than youâd normally be, but Buckyâs enticed you out of bed with the promise of breakfast tacos from the cafeteria. There had also been the promise of cuddles on the couch and ice cream for dinner. You drove a hard but fair bargain you thought, especially when you conceded to Buckyâs no pants rule.
Youâre surprised when you hear the jingle of keys only 10 minutes after he left. You expected Bucky to be gone longer but itâs probably early enough that there wasnât a line. You finish brushing your teeth quickly before throwing on Buckyâs henley from last night and shimming into a discarded pair of black underwear.Â
Youâre hoping your light attire would coax Bucky back to bed after breakfast. Or maybe before. Reheated tacos werenât the worst thing in the world you decide as you turn the corner to the kitchen. You take a moment to set a flirty pout on your lips and adjust his shirt before striking a sexy pose against the doorframe.
âWell hello there soldier,â you purr, looking up at Bucky through your eyelashes in what you hope is an alluring sort of way.Â
Song of the Rolling Earth: The AU Farmer Daddy Steve and Bucky Story
* * *
CHAPTERS: 4 / 4 - Complete (15k)
RATING: Explicit
SHIP: Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes (Shrunkyclunks)
TAGS: [No Archive Warnings Apply] Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Retired Steve Rogers, Modern Bucky Barnes, Injury Recovery, Homelessness, Homophobic Parents (Off-Screen), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Identity Porn, Depleted Topsoil, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Masturbation, Fantasizing, Guilt, So much guilt, Sexual Tension, Unreliable Narrator, Bucky Is 25, Steve is 40, Farmer Steve Rogers, Twink Bucky Barnes, Daddy Kink, Mentions of: Loss of Virginity, Anal Sex
SUMMARY:
Bucky Barnes was twenty-five years old. He had been a student of something before whatever happened to him, well. Happened. Bucky had lived his first shot at youth with a red, beating heart and the world before his feet until Steveâs own failure on the other side of the planet reduced Bucky and billions of others to lifeless, gray dust. But nowânow, after 2023 and weak long-shots and time machinesâhere Bucky was: still ash in the wind even when he was ten feet away from Steve and made of bleeding, splintered flesh. He was ash reformed as a lonely kid with dirt in his hair and dried blood on his ear, and he was young, and he was devastating, and he was beautiful in a way that burned the tops of Steveâs own lungs.
summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)
parings: bucky x reader (veteran!bucky x librarian!reader)
series word count: ~57k
warnings: heavy emphasis on Buckyâs PTSD and depression (panic attacks, nightmares, dissociation, flashbacks, survivorâs guilt), a super sweet and shy Bucky, a bunch of book recs, smut (18+, will be marked by chapter with *), a surprising amount of fluff given these warnings đ§Ą
a/n: chapters will be updated under the cut!Â
Itâs @whumptober2020 time again! For prompt 10 â âthey look so pretty when they bleed,â specific prompts: blood loss/trail of blood; AND prompt 15 â âinto the unknown,â specifically magical healing!
Time for some more Evanstan with witch!Seb! This story takes place in the same universe as âevery inch of north and south.â Warnings forâŠblood & magically inflicted injuries? I promise heâs going to be fine though! Itâs magical healing, after all!
#
Chris steps in through the side door of Sebastianâs magicianâs consultation rooms, where the wards know him as Sebâs boyfriend; heâs tired but cheerful, because itâs been a productive day of meetings about the directorial project heâs taking on for fun, the film about rescue dogs, and also heâs brought coffee for Seb from that new place down the street theyâve been meaning to try.
Heâs expecting the familiar tickle of Sebâs magic, and he smiles, the way Sebâs wards generally smile back, all warm and smoky and glittery as opals.
The magic is familiar. It recognizes him. But itâs also wrong. Frantic. Scurrying. Spiking. Singing and shouting, sounds Chris doesnât quite physically hear but feelsâ
Heâs not a witch the way Sebastian is. But he is magic-sensitive, kind of adjacent to it and aware of it if itâs happening, and heâs Sebâs boyfriend. Sebastianâs magic knows that.
The hairs at the nape of his neck stand up. His skin prickles.
summary: You need an escape from everything, and Bucky is more than happy to give it to you.
warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF. Bad words. Bucky does think a naughty thing or two lol
a/n:  Thank you so much to @marylizabetha for this commission!!!! I had so much fun with it, and honestly it was nice to get to write about escaping all of this nonsense for a little bit!!!!
He saw it when he came home from grocery shopping. The quiver of your bottom lip. Heâd only been gone for about two hoursâshopping for groceries for a super soldier can take a while, after allâbut even so, it had made you anxious. Everything about the last seven months or so made you anxious. And he couldnât blame you. People were dying and it was just⊠frustrating how so many people didnât seem to care. At all.
Bucky had been the only one to leave the town house you two shared in that entire time, unless you counted the times youâd sit out on the front stoop and work on a Sudoku puzzle. But that was a decision you had made very early on. He was a super soldier that couldnât get sick. You were just a normal human.
It didnât mean that you werenât scared for him every time he walked outside.
Thankfully, it hadnât taken much to convince you to stay home, even though you had to quit your job. It wasnât exactly the most⊠important thing in the world. It wasnât even in your field of interest. Just a pit stop until you could put your degree to use.
But it looked like that wouldnât be happening for a little while longer.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2070
Warnings: Slight angst, fluff
Summary:Â After an accident Bucky doubts heâs worth your love
A/N: This is my submission for @propertyofpoeandbucky 3k Disney Challenge. My prompt was âBut if you want to leave, you can. Iâll remember you thoughâŠ.I remember everyone that leaves.â from Lilo and Stitch gif source (x)
The howling wind whirred hard against the giant window pane. You overlooked Manhattan below, the bustling city now quieting under the thick blankets of snow. Bucky had invited you to the Tower earlier that day to watch a movie, not expecting the winter storm warning to become a full fledged blizzard. As a result you would be taking a huge step in your relationship, sleeping over.
Okay- going back to that totally brain melting ask (and your, as always, incredible answer) about if Sebastian cries during sex or not. I would /love/ to know your thoughts on what Chris does to Seb that never fails to make him scream đł
Yes, hi, thank you for this! đÂ
So the day before yesterday I mentioned having some less than wholesome thoughts about how into Sebastianâs long hair Chris was, and how much Seb likes his hair being played with, and I think your ask gives me the perfect opportunity to elaborate on that a bit (and by a bit I mean in 2k words - and many thanks to the awesome @rainbowsandcoconut for brainstorming and helping me out, as always!) So for this one, Iâm thinking Sebâs second long hair phase for CW, like when he was at Salt Lake City Comic Con in 2015 and he was gorgeous and tan and clean shaven, and Chris was bearded and pale and beautiful:
Chris and Sebastian started sleeping together not all that long before. However, since then, theyâve only seen each other a handful of times, and the last time was over three weeks ago. They arrived in Salt Lake City that morning from different place, then went straight into to the con, which means they havenât really had any time in private all day. So by the evening, theyâre both wound up from being around each other all day, touching during the photo ops, but not touching like they want to.Â
Which means that once they finally get back to their hotel, theyâre instantly all over each other, and itâs frenzied and urgent and a little bit desperate.
Chrisâs cardigan is the first to go, followed by Sebastianâs shirt, and then Chris is steering Sebastian back towards the bed, still kissing him, licking lewdly into his mouth. When they reach the bed, he gives Sebastian a light shove to sends him sprawling onto the mattress, and Sebastian lies there, panting and looking up at him with dark, hooded eyes. Chris grabs Sebastianâs belt, pulling him back down the bed, towards him, and without breaking eye contact, Chris unfastens Sebastianâs belt and jeans, then yanks down his pants and underwear halfway down his legs. Itâs not very elegant, but neither of them particularly gives a fuck right now.
Once his jeans are off, Sebastian lets his legs fall open, shamelessly putting himself on display.
âCanât wait to get you in me,â he tells Chris, his voice already low and raspy with want. âHavenât stopped thinking about it since last time.âÂ
Chris groans, automatically reaching for the bulge in his own jeans and giving himself a squeeze through the fabric. When Sebastianâs eyes flick down to Chrisâs crotch and he licks his lips, Chris curses.
âFucking Christ,â he mutters, hastily pulling off his own clothes. He makes a quick dash to his overnight bag on the chair in the corner to grab the lube and condoms, and then heâs climbing onto the mattress, crawling between Sebastianâs invitingly spread legs. Before Sebastian can so much as reach for him, Chris leans down and takes him into his mouth.
Sebastian shouts, hips bucks up involuntarily, but Chris grabs him and pins him down onto the mattress.
âSorry, sorry,â Sebastian pants, âjust feels so fucking good. Fuck, Chris, your mouth-â
The rest of his sentence gets lost in a moan when Chris puts his mouth to work, sucking, licking, all the while humming low in the back of his throat.
When Chris pulls off again after a minute or so, Sebastian whimpers in protest, dramatically throwing his head back against the mattress. Chris ignores him, instead grabbing the lube and quickly coating his fingers in it. Sitting back a little, he pushes Sebastianâs thighs open wider. He reaches down between his legs, only circling his rim for a few moments to spread the slickness around before heâs pushing a finger into him, right down to the second knuckle.
Normally, Chris would take his time, be more careful about this part, but heâs feeling all kinds of wound up right now and he just needs to get in Sebastian already. So instead of being careful, he resorts to swallowing Sebastian down again, sucking him off tight and slick to even out any discomfort while he opens him up a little quicker than he normally would. Judging by the sounds Sebastian is making, heâs more than alright with that.
When Sebastian starts gyrating his hips and pushing down on Chrisâs fingers, trying to get them where he wants them, Chris forcibly pins him down again with his free hand. In response to Sebastianâs loud, pleading whine, Chris gives Sebastianâs inner thigh an admonishing bite. While heâs at it, he decides to suck a mark there, on that pale, smooth skin, the possessive part of his brain lighting up at the thought of that mark still being there tomorrow, when theyâve parted ways again.
âChris, please,â Sebastian sighs, his head lolling from side to side. He tugs on Chrisâs shoulder, trying pull him out from between his legs. âIâm ready, câmon.â
Although he loves to tease Sebastian, Chris still feels the urgency from before so very keenly, so he sits up and pulls out his fingers, wiping them on the sheets before quickly tearing open and rolling on the condom. When he looks up and sees Sebastian lying there, sprawled out in all his glorious indecency, Chris feels something in his chest tighten and then loosen.
In a thick voice, he orders, âTurn around.â
Sebastian scrambles to obey, flipping over onto his stomach and grabbing a pillow to shove under himself. He pushes his ass back towards Chris, offering himself up, and Chris groans, immediately making a grab for those perfect, firm cheeks and pulling them apart. He lines up his own, thus far neglected dick between them, sliding it slowly up and down. Heâs mesmerized by the contrast of his own flushed flesh against Sebastianâs creamy skin.
When the tip of his cock catches on Sebastianâs loosened rim, Sebastian moans. âChris, stop teasing. Please.â
âYeah, fuck, okay,â Chris nods quickly, taking himself in hand to line up properly and pushing in, âokay-Â oohhh, fuck.â
Despite Chrisâs prepping, itâs almost overwhelmingly tight, and hot to boot, so Chris has to grit his teeth against the urge to just thrust and take. He fully intends to go slow, or as slow as he can manage â but Sebastian seems to have other plans. Pushes back against him, he impales himself on Chrisâs cock, moaning as it fills him up all the way.
âOh, shit,â Sebastian breathes, letting his head fall forward, hanging between his shoulders. He lets out a slightly hysterical giggle. âForgot how big you were.â
Once the stars have faded a little from behind Chrisâs eyelids, he rubs Sebastianâs hip in soothing circles. âToo much?â
Sebastian gives a curt shake of his head. âFuck no, youâre perfect. Come on, give it to me.â
Pulling out almost all the way, leaving just the tip inside, Chris says, âYessir,â and then slams back in.
Sebastian shouts, startled, even though he asked for it. âOh God,â he moans, âfuck me good- Come on, yeah.â
Sebastianâs hands grip the sheets for purchase as Chris starts to pound into him, his thrusts hard, fast and a little mean. Sharp snaps of his hips that make the steady slap of skin on skin reverberate through the room, forcing a steady stream of ah, ah, unhh, yeahâs from Sebastianâs pretty, pink mouth.
With every sound Sebastian makes, every time his perfect ass swallows up Chrisâs cock, Chris loses the tenuous grip on his restraint a little bit further. His mind grows foggy with a mix of lust and the desire to reduce Sebastian to a beautiful, sobbing mess â something he doesnât quite recognize from himself.
âKiss me,â Sebastian demands suddenly.
Chris has no choice. He goes immediately, draping himself over Sebastianâs back. Winding his free hand in Sebastianâs hair, he tugs his head up a little so he can kiss him sideways, over his shoulder. The angle is awkward, the kiss sloppy and with way more tongue and teeth than a proper kiss should probably have, and itâs absolutely perfect. God, Chris missed Sebastianâs taste so damn much, dreamed of it almost every night since he tasted it last. He grunts into Sebastianâs mouth, involuntarily tightening his fist in in his hair, making Sebastian whimper, his mouth going slack below Chrisâs while Chris circles his hips, grinding his cock in deep, deep as itâll go.
He stays like that a moment longer, relishing the perfect, snug heat surrounding him, and then Chris pushes himself back up to his knees.
As soon as he starts to thrust again, Sebastian pushes back against him, trying to speed things up, make him go deeper. Chris tuts disapprovingly and splays his right hand on Sebastianâs lower back, shoving him back down into the pillow below his hips, ungently. For a split second, Chris wonders if maybe heâs being too rough, too careless, but he canât help himself â Sebastian just drives him crazy. Thereâs something about him. Something about that sweet yet cocky attitude that drew Chris in from the moment he met him, even if it took him a while to see that the attraction he felt physical and romantic rather than friendly.
Of course Chris can be gentle â sweet and patient and careful â he often is.
Right now, though, he just needs, and wants, so he takes. He sinks the hand that isnât pressing Sebastian down into his long, chestnut hair, getting a good handful and then pulling, forcing Sebastianâs smooth back to arch in a gorgeous, lazy U-shape.
Sebastian yells.
Immediately, Chris loosens his grip and slows down, already opening his mouth to apologize for hurting Sebastianâ but before he can get a word out, Sebastian moans.
âYes, fuck- Like that, harder,â he pants, arching his back even further, and thatâs when Chris realizes that Sebastian likes it rough. Loves it when Chris manhandles him, makes him take it.
Sebastian is strong. Heâs in great shape, isnât going to break. He can take it (Christ, can he ever). The realization that he doesnât have to be quite as careful as heâs used to being with most women heâs been with lights a fire right down to Chrisâs core.
Fucking hell.
Heâs not the type to ever want to hurt his partners, but thereâs no denying he loves being in control, loves testing the limits of his body and his strength â and since Sebastian just gave him the go ahead loud and clear, Chris goes for it.
Using all of his gym-honed strength, Chris starts to fuck Sebastian into the mattress with long, powerful strokes, pulling his head back by his hair and effectively taking away all of Sebastianâs leverage, all of his agency. The position Chris is in means heâs almost using the hand in Sebastian's hair to keep himself up, and still Sebastian is spurring Chris on to keep going, fuck him harder, faster.
Chris growls, a low animalistic sound, and curls the fingers of his right hand around Sebastianâs hip hard enough to leave bruises. Tugging his hips up just so, the angle of his thrusts change minutely, and suddenly, Sebastian is gasping for air and clawing at the sheets.
The sounds that leave him are nothing like Chris has ever heard him make before, even though the sex theyâve had up until that point has been nothing short of spectacular. Now though, Sebastianâs mewling, whimpering, mouth attempting to form words that peter off into gasps before they can materialize.
Something about Chris holding him down and nailing his prostate dead on, combined with the sting of the sting of Chris pulling on his hair, has Sebastian absolutely losing his mind. A strange, primal sense of pride at being to one to do this to him spreads like wildfire through Chrisâs chest, warming him up from the inside out and allowing him tap into reserves of energy he didnât know he possessed.
Chris doesnât slow down, goes harder if anything the closer to his climax he gets, and it only takes a few more thrusts before actually Sebastian screams out Chrisâs name and comes. He comes, untouched, on Chrisâs cock, and the minute Sebastian tightens like a vice around him, squeezing and pulsing as his orgasm ripples through him, Chris lets out a loud, drawn out groan and buries himself deep inside one, final time.
Itâs possible that Chrisâs heart actually stops for a moment, but when it starts back up, itâs racing as if heâs just run a marathon. Which, in terms of physical exertion, actually isnât all that far off. It takes him a moment to realise heâs slumped on top of Sebastian and heâs probably smothering him, so with his remaining strength, he manages to roll off him. Sebastian winces as Chris slips free.
âSorry,â Chris murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. With some effort, he gets up, walking over to the bathroom on wobbly legs to dispose of the condom and grab a wet cloth.
When he turns back to the bed, he finds Sebastian looking at him through half-lidded eyes, a dopey grin on his face.
âFuuuck,â he sighs contently, his voice is slurred with post-orgasm exhaustion, âthat was amazing.â
Chris, like the theater nerd he is, canât help but do a little stage bow.
Sebastian snorts. âCâmere,â he orders, barely curling the fingers of his left hand in Chrisâs direction in a sloppy imitation of a come hither movement. âNeed cuddles.â
Chris quickly, cursorily cleans Sebastian off, tossing the cloth to the side of the bed before lying down next to him. He snuggles up close, pulling a limp and sated Sebastian into his arms and breathing him in.
âSo,â Chris starts after a minute of just lying there in blissed-out silence. His fingers are buried in Sebastianâs hair again, this time to massage his scalp in soothing little circles. âYou really liked that, huh?â
âHmmphh,â Sebastian replies into Chrisâs chest.
Chris smiles lazily up at the ceiling. âJust so you know, now that I know how I can get you to scream my name, Iâm gonna make you do it all the damn time.â
Thereâs a pause, and then Sebastian lifts his head to look at him. âIâm counting on it,â he whispers against Chrisâs lips, then licks filthily into his mouth.
summary: Buckyâs found someone out on his front lawn during a snowstorm. Well, Alpine found her. If only he knew what he was getting into.
warnings: Bad words! Violence! Mention of kidnapping! Mention of military violence/injury! Mention of suicidal thoughts!
a/n:  So the song I listened to that kinda really inspired this is âGet You the Moonâ by Kina. Also, this was commissioned by @buckysbunnyâ and I really hope you love it, babe!
âCome on, Al,â Bucky said as he led his dog up the front steps of his cabin, carrying all the grocery bags inside. He had a cigarette between his teeth, keeping it steady as he unlocked the door and let the gorgeous samoyed inside. âAtta girl.â
The cabin was just as he left it three hours ago when he left to go grocery shopping. As it should.
And Alpine was already standing at her bowl, wagging her tail. She knew what time it was.
âYou hungry, baby girl?â He asked with a grin as he grabbed the beef heâd been thawing in the sink and opened it up. âTodayâs a beef day. We both know how much you love cows, yeah?â He put a cup of beef in her bowl, powdering in her supplements. âThe best girl deserves the best food, yeah?â He asked as he cracked two eggs on top of it, before setting it on the ground. Bucky couldnât help but grin at the way that Alpine sat there in front of the bowl, waiting for the go ahead as her tail wagged aggressively. âEat. Good girl.â
Itâs a leather Burberry bag that he brings to Geraltâs place anytime heâs over for more than one night - which, these days, is more often than not. And Jaskierâs too posh to lug around any old gym bag - wouldnât be caught dead with anything thatâs not fit to his extremely refined, extremely high standards - so the posh Burberry bag finds a semi-permanent home by Geraltâs bed.
Jaskier is nothing if not persistent though, determined to prove just how committed he was exactly to Geralt, to Ciri and Yen, to the potential of long-term, and Geralt soon had to let go of his personal hang-ups and take the leap.
