ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ᵐʸ ᵒʷᶰ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˑ se

[stsebastiens]

I’m calling the blame, just let me own it. (x) 

[allthisdeath-blog]

           YOU DON’T OWN ME.

[warcompass-archive]

       ❝ i remember quite vividly.  the first time i ever met him.   he couldn’t even fit into the proper army uniform and his helmet was two sizes too big for him.   but he kept on standing there,  like a true soldier.   it was — quite a time. ❞        the first time peggy laid eyes on steve,  she couldn’t help but smile.  this small kid from brooklyn within the brutes of men.   she had faith that he would one day be the one chosen to become … well captain america.   she just wished things could’ve gone a lot smoother during the war.   the red skull,  bucky falling…   all of that messed up what could’ve been.        ❝ …he was very adorable like that too. ❞

[progrcmmed]

      the smile that curls up the corners of his mouth is sadder than it is anything else.   bucky aches,  just remembering it all.   he would give anything to go back to those days.   he could have had himself injured,  taken out and sent back home.   he could have done anything to avoid it all happening.   if he had been sent back earlier,  maybe he could have convinced him...   only bucky knows he couldn't have.   he cannot delude himself into believing that was a real possibility.     ❝ i miss it, ❞     he murmurs after a delayed moment,  doesn't look at her.   he can't.     ❝ don't tell him that.   don't ever tell him i said that. ❞     steve is probably listening somewhere,  and the thought makes his stomach twist into knots.      ❝ dames never realised it.   fools,  they were.   until you,  anyway. ❞

[shieldintheice]

“When have I put myself in front of a bullet I didn’t need to?” This was just too damn familiar. Arms crossed over his chest, jaw set in stubbornness he hadn’t quite meant to latch onto. It was surely a figure of speech, a literal bullet the least of his worries when he faced far worse. Jumped off and toward worse. He occasionally winced watching himself back on the news, injuries throbbing in time with his heart an additional reminder he didn’t always make the best choices, simply the ones he saw available to him. But Buck didn’t have to know that. 

[progrcmmed]

Eyes narrow before Bucky can think to stop himself, nor does he intend to. “Is that a joke?” The words are harder than intended, but he can't take that back now. Steve drowned himself in ice. He has jumped on grenades  ( fake, but not the point )  and he has done a countless amount of risky things that he didn't need to do, because he felt as though he did. Steve looked at the bigger picture, didn't see all the details, before he was throwing himself into something. Bucky wanted to throttle him for it sometimes, scared him half to death that Steve actually would get himself killed one day. He wouldn't be able to cope with it. “I'm assuming that's a joke.”

[readyforyours]

@progrcmmed, from here.

They’d been on & off all through high school, though it’d seem like now they’re off permanently with Brock moving across the goddamn country in a few weeks & the huge blowout they’d had on Tuesday about some other fucking thing. Lately that’s all they seemed to do is fight, & as much as he hates it, maybe it’s just… time. He’d graduated, done two years at a community college, then been accepted on a big scholarship nowhere near this podunk town, so he was gone.

… Maybe that’s what they’d fought over. He can’t remember anymore & he just hurts. There’s a storm on the horizon, but Bucky had said he’d be over to pick up his stuff soon, so Brock goes back to packing up his own shit. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to go. Not without Buck, but he’s not even sure what the hell to do. This is it…. Right?

He hears the keys in the door & doesn’t stop taping up the box he’s working on. “Yo, you’re stuff’s-” And with that, there’s a colossal crack that knocks out the power & the sky opens up in a torrential flood. … There goes that plan, evidently. 

[progrcmmed]

The rain poured, thunder boomed, and lightning caught his eye more than once, but Bucky was determined to get his stuff and leave again. He didn't want to put the act off more than needed, just wanted to get it over and done with. This wasn't his fault, he had to remind himself over and over. It was Brock that had decided he was leaving without looking back. It was Brock that decided that he didn't need him around anymore. Knuckles turn white on the steering wheel and he refused to let his emotions get the better of him.

He's shoving the key in the door, Brock's door, before he can think this through. Bucky doesn't know what he'll say - if he'll even say anything - and he doesn't know how to act. He can't pretend he's happy. The other is just going to fucking leave him here, discarded and forgotten. The thought makes him bitter. It makes him angry. He pushes the door open and is already forcing the key from the chain its attached to when he hears the other's voice.

This is for the best, he reminds himself, over and over, as he kicks the door shut behind him, walks inside. Nothing is said, in the end... but then lights go off and he's plunged into darkness, still on the spot and eyes fighting to adjust. “Shit,” he mumbles, ignores the chill that crawls up his spine. “I— fuck.” No, it's fine. He can still get his stuff and leave. It can't be that bad, right? Wrong.

[fiirstavenger]

Listen here,❞ Steve began with narrowed eyes, ❝My show has some good messages to it and it’s awesome. That Breaking Bad monstrosity tries to make it seem like drug dealing WITH ONE OF YOUR STUDENTS no less is run of the mill and perfectly fine.❞ He shook his head before he continued on with the mini rant on why certain SHOWS and other media were part of the problem with the developing youth of not only their country but the entire world. People were impressionable and it didn’t always matter the age but the younger generation needed to latch onto something, especially when parent-like figures needed to work longer and harder to maintain some semblance of structure to live on. ❝They glorify drug dealing and I can’t stand behind that.❞ There were quite a few shows Steve refused to watch because he didn’t agree with the ideals. He watched GOT because it didn’t have a REAL LIFE setting, which probably didn’t make sense but Steve didn’t always make sense.

Steve ran his hand along Bucky’s leg, grinning over at him. ❝Telling you and not telling you details is half the fun. It messes with your natural nature to know everything.❞ Even before the war, Bucky liked to have all the information, which made him an excellent Sergeant in the war and a deadly assassin when HYDRA dug claws into him. Steve being the exact opposite in a lot of ways because he only needed the big picture and some to go on before he quite literally in most cases dove in. The smaller details were always something Bucky needed to handle while Steve could see the grander scheme. ❝Let me surprise you at least once in our lives. I’ve never managed it. Let me have this.❞

[progrcmmed]

Steve was so damn PASSIONATE about every little thing and Bucky barely resists the urge to roll his eyes as the other man starts his rant about Breaking Bad. It is the same as the one he has heard all too many times before, imagines that he will continue to hear it every time he dares to bring it up. Bucky doesn't care though; it's damn good television and he's not going to stop watching it just because Steve doesn't like it. There are things he finds interesting that Bucky couldn't care less about, and he makes that fact known too. “Oh, come on,” he responds, but there's a GRIN on his face that he doesn't intend to hide. “It's not that bad. If you actually WATCHED it beyond the first episode, you'd see that it's not actually that glorified. At all, actually,” Steve wouldn't though. He knew he wouldn't. The thought is ignored and his grin only remains, amusement all too clear on his features.

It fades as the other refuses to tell him, lips turning into a FROWN quickly. He doesn't like being left 'out of the loop'. He likes details. He likes knowing what he is about to get into, good or bad, and being able to make a logical decision before doing so. Steve was the complete opposite and it was one of the things that made Bucky wonder how they managed to work so well together... but they did and that's all he needed to focus on. “That's not fair, Steve,” he all but whines, resists the urge to sprawl out across his boyfriend until he agrees. Bucky knows it won't work, anyway. “It's really not fair. You know that telling me would only make me want to know.” Steve probably done it on purpose.

I want to be loved so bad it’s pathetic and embarrassing

[fiirstavenger]

                                                                 'YOU NEVER KILLED ANYONE.’

The words clanged inside of his head, tossing and turning with the blood soaked memories to contradict them. History books painted him as a hero, a beacon of hope to save them all but the pages so conveniently failed to mention the grim coated realities of what a war actually entailed. The ink did not burn with the smoke of the destructions left behind in the wake of his misguided decisions. The media painted him in sunlight but the shadows were always waiting in the back of his mind to pull him back down where he belonged.

❝I’ve taken lives,❞  Steve rasped out, hands clenched so tightly into fists, his fingers ached.  ❝All the lives - the losses are on me. I make the calls. I do this and -❞  In the war, the handful of lives he claimed haunted him continuously and while he didn’t take nearly as many since arriving in this time period, SOME were unavoidable. The hollowed eyes always taunted him, reminding him of the OTHER parts of himself, the ones he tried to pretend didn’t exist because the sides contradicted what others wanted to believe of him.

Releasing his hands, Steve felt bile rising in his throat but he quickly swallowed it all down. He couldn’t stand fighting with Bucky, especially not now when he JUST found the man again. Why did life have to be so cruel to them?  ❝We sign the Accords, we fight, we hide or we give them what they want - those are our options, Bucky. Those are the only options.❞  By the latter, he meant his head on a pike because he knew the General and the others would love him to take the fall for the damage caused. Nevermind, all the lives they saved and the further damage they managed to prevent.

❝Swear it,❞  Steve whispered, moving a little closer to Bucky. When they were kids, a swear meant an unbreakable bond to the words and they would never break such an oath. It would go against the entire foundation of their relationship if they did.  ❝Swear you won’t leave.❞  He nearly felt sixteen again, making Bucky swear a similar thing between them in bed.

[progrcmmed]

      I've taken lives.

Bucky wants to laugh, but he knows it will sound wrong. He knows it will be BITTER and angry, all of the emotions that are boiling up inside of him in that moment. He knows what Steve has done. He doesn't remember everything, but he remembers him. He knows what it is like to be miles away from him, one eye closed and the other FOCUSED on no one else. He knows what it is like to press the trigger the moment someone dares to step that bit too close, or if Steve doesn't see them. He knows that he killed EVERY SINGLE PERSON he could... and he killed them ALL, so Steve didn't have to.

“Do you know what it's like to pull the trigger? Do you know how many people I killed for you, Steve? Do you know how many people I killed before you could BLINK and realise they were there?” Steve looks so sad in that moment and something in his chest aches for him. He looks so angry, fists balled up at his side, but his eyes give him away. They always have. “I killed them all for you, because I didn't want you to. I would do it all again, if I had to.” He has proven that. Bucky would do anything to keep Steve's hands clean, would kiss blood from his fingertips and wash it away without a second thought if Steve asked him to.

Silence follows his words for a long moment, and Bucky knows there has to be another way. He cannot give him over. He cannot stand back and let Steve give himself over. He will be ruined. He will be torn apart. He doesn't deserve that; none of them do. “You know what I think,” is all he says, because he has no other input. Steve's mind is set, but that doesn't mean there aren't ways around it.

                      Swear it.

The words ring in his ears and all Bucky can do is blink at the other man for a short moment. His lips twist into a sad smile and he wants nothing more than to kiss him on the mouth, grip his face between his fingers and tell him that he loves him. That he will do anything for him. “I swear it,” he murmurs instead, remains in place. “I swear that I won't leave, Steve.”

[progrcmmed]

i met jeremy renner & mads mikkelsen ( again ) yesterday and i’m just dying over it tbh

[fiirstavenger]

❝If I gotta,❞ Steve teased, running his lips along Bucky’s face, mainly his jaw to nip and bite. He longed to MARK the skin beneath his lips but knew he couldn’t because it would rouse too many questions and would tarnish Bucky’s social standing. Fellas had a little more leeway but no one wanted to run around with someone so loose and without proper morals. The more indecent things needed to be more behind closed doors, especially for those unwed. They lived in a more sexual repressed time and with their financial situation, they certainly couldn’t mess with the status quo. He helped Bucky with the buckle, pulling back entirely to work his pants and underpants off. Once he had both removed, he folded them before climbing back onto Bucky. He kissed him harder this time around, feeling the surge of want pulsing inside of him. Had he ever felt this hard before? He didn’t think he had. Three little words were turning around in his head but he swallowed them down, knowing it would only HURT to actually say them when Bucky had to l e a v e soon. He didn’t want to have anything hanging over his best friend’s head.

[progrcmmed]

There's a grin on his face at Steve's words, rolls his eyes so that the other man sees. He kisses him back, a hand on the back of his hair, and he groans against his mouth. He can feel something stirring in himself again, presses his hips up against him slowly. Bucky reminds himself to breathe, overwhelmed but nowhere near done. It was the first time they were fully doing this, the last time too - at least until he came back from the war... and he WOULD. Bucky refuses to let anything happen out there that he couldn't craw back from.

The thought is stubbornly ignored, refuses to let ANY reminder of what will happen in the next few days enter his head. Bucky focuses on Steve, only Steve. That's all he needs, right now. He exhales, slow and steady, as the other pulls away, folds his clothes like he has all the time in the damn world. Bucky smothers a laugh, gaze going to the ceiling with a grin on his face. A hand holds out for him expectantly though, pulls him back in.

“On your back,” he reminds him in a murmur, doesn't wait for Steve to comply before he's pushing the other's shoulder gently. Bucky is over him in the next moment, knees either side of the other's hip and a grin on his face.

[fiirstavenger]

Trembles continued to work up and down his body, chest rising and falling too rapidly but not as bad as moments before. The tension slowly began to unwind from around him while his mind cleared from the haze of gun smoke and littered body parts. The blood slithered away from his vision, the staining red taken over by startling blue. Bucky’s concerned eyes pulled him back, brought him within range of their life in the here and now. He LIVED through so many battlefields but having Bucky against him made him feel saved. Everything felt worth it there in Bucky’s arms.

Slumping more, Steve nodded his head against Bucky’s neck, attempting to press even closer.  ❝Don’t leave, okay,❞  Steve rasped out, voicing his tightly held fears for once.   ❝I always - you always leave,❞  he continued, mind still caught slightly in the cross-hairs between the past and present.  ❝I’m alone. I’m always alone.❞  The team mattered and he knew they cared but they still viewed him as everyone else did - glorious Captain America - the leader of truth, justice and the American way. They held him in such high esteem and would not be able to see him so fallible and breakable.

                    ( an image couldn’t break, after all. )

❝I can’t lose you. I can’t,❞  he continued, voice sounding more panicked again.  ❝I need you, p l e a s e, Bucky.❞ Please had to be the rarest word to ever escape Steve’s lips because he never pleaded or begged for anything, even if he really wanted it. His stubborn belief he could handle everything on his own often prevented him from speaking his desires.

[progrcmmed]

Hands continue to work across the other man's back, careful and slow. Bucky needs to make sure Steve realises he's fine, that they aren't about to step outside the door and onto a battlefield. That they're both fine, alive. That's all that matters. Everything else is meaningless in the long run, as much as Steve REFUSES to believe. All Bucky cares about is HIM. He cares about his health, his mental health especially. How long had he been feeling like this, pushed it beneath the surface and forced himself to IGNORE it out of fear of what other's will fear? It's a thought that plays over and over in his head, refuses to leave him alone.

                                        You always leave.

The words catch him off guard and Bucky is unable to stop the way he stiffens beneath the other, hands stuttering to a stop. Is that what Steve really believes? It feels like someone has GUTTED him, pulled his insides out and scattered them across the floor. It takes a moment before he wills himself to breathe again, eyes closed tight and fingers pressing against the back of Steve's head. He keeps him against him. He holds him TIGHT. “I won't leave you,” he means it too. Means it so much that it aches. “I swear. 'm not going ANYWHERE, Steve.”

Steve's words ring in his ears and it's then that Bucky puts space between them, presses the other man against the counter. He's against him in an INSTANT: holds his face between metal and flesh fingers, presses their foreheads together. He wants Steve to LOOK at him. Hips press together, refuses to give him room. Maybe it's the wrong course of action. Bucky doesn't care. “I'm not going to leave you, okay?” he feels numb. “Nothing is going to take me away from you. Not again. I PROMISE you, Steve.”

[fiirstavenger]

❝You are more than cute but I’m trying to be nice to you here so I thought it best to not bring it up,❞ Steve responded with a smirk, squatting down in front of Hope to pet her and give her a belly rub. He knew Bucky would be reluctant to touch her but the lady assured Steve they couldn’t go wrong with a Labrador. The breed as a whole had very sweet temperance, weren’t yippy and were good natured. Hope had been fully trained as a therapy dog AND a service dog. All the dogs were given to vets or those who needed help with something or another. She would be able to help Bucky in ways HE couldn’t. Reaching for Bucky’s hand, he tried to pull him a little closer. ❝I’m right here. You can let her sniff your fingers first if you’re nervous then run your hand here over her belly. You saw me do it and she liked it.❞ He tried to give his best ‘encouraging’ look. Steve loved dogs and if he had his way they would have five more give or take. Would Bucky have preferred a cat? He probably should have asked. Did they have service cats? He didn’t think they would be as easy to train but maybe he could get a cat too.

❝I won’t be gone long. You’ll both be okay, Buck.❞

[progrcmmed]

Amusement spreads across his features at the other man's words, shakes his head to himself. “You're ridiculous,” he murmurs, although the affection in his voice is all too clear. Bucky doesn't make any attempt to hide it. Silence falls over him as he watches Steve again, watches as he moves closer to the dog - Hope, he reminds himself - and touches her with such ease.  A hand across her belly, as though Bucky could do the same. As though he didn't have the capability of crushing he beneath one hand alone... but the thought is gone as nostrils flare, force himself to focus. He isn't like that anymore. He isn't.

His eyes flick back to Steve's face as the other speaks again, resists the urge to frown. Bucky doesn't make any attempt to move for a while longer, before he finally takes a step forward. He feels on edge though, unsure if this is as good an idea as Steve believes. He hopes so. For Steve's sake MORE than his own. “Yeah,” he murmurs, holds his hand out towards her. His flesh hand, keeps metal firmly at his side and refuses to entertain the thought. “She's pretty,” he speaks, knows he's already said so, but needs to fill the silence. Needs to make the thoughts in his go quiet.

He nods once, slowly. “Alright,” he hopes so. He doesn't feel safe - Steve is different, he can't break Steve. A dog is small, needs care and attention.

[progrcmmed]

fiirstavenger:

A zing of pleasure worked over his body at the feel of Bucky’s hips moving against his. A heat pooled thickly in his stomach at the remembrance of desire and pure white hot w a n t. The last time he felt such a need had been their last time in the tents before the mission - their final mission together. The devastation heightened by the fact he never managed to tell Bucky he loved him. He never had the chance to pour EVERYTHING out and leave it all there in his hands. He longed for it now but the words escaped him, lost there in the midst of all the other things he could not expose between them yet. Bucky needed time and Steve couldn’t be selfish. Groaning softly, Steve ran his hands down Bucky’s back, his neck extending some to give more room for the lips pressing along his skin. He felt trapped in a dream, one he had so many times over the years. It made his fingers grip a little tighter on reflex as if his hold could keep Bucky there with him, as if his touch could keep them both REAL. ❝I ––– keep waiting to ––– wake up,❞ Steve whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut. An onslaught of emotions worked over him but he tried to ignore them all for the most part. He didn’t want to press more onto Bucky than he already had. He should have never confessed anything in the first place and needed to focus everything onto Bucky and his recover. Everything else needed to wait. HE needed to wait. ❝S-should get some sleep, Buck. It’s been - a long couple of days.❞

Steve groans. It rings in his ears and it feels like something has been set ALIGHT within him, no chance of being able to reverse it. Bucky only repeats his actions; lets his hips roll against the other's, slow and firm, to see if he can wring the same reaction out of him again. He kisses him harder, insistent, and it feels like something he's done so many times before. He feels like if he were to press Steve on his back, gasp against his mouth, it would be normal. The thought alone sends a shudder down his spine, makes him press against the other tighter.

It's only the words that cause him to stop, fingers digging into the fabric beneath them. His mouth hovers over the other's throat, opens his eyes and blinks up towards him. There is nothing to say. There is nothing he can say to make this situation any BETTER for either of them. The thought twists inside of him, makes him feel like he's just been dunked beneath cold water. Bucky resists the urge to flinch.

It takes a moment before he pulls away, removes his mouth from Steve's skin and looks at him. He is tired, admittedly. He knows Steve won't sleep though. He sighs.

“I think y' should take your own advice too,” he murmurs, breaks his own silence. Eyes are concerned as they analyse the other's features, takes in the sight of darkness beneath his eyes, the way he sags despite trying to remain rigid, awake. A thumb presses against Steve's lower lip, drags across slowly. Bucky's not sure if he's TAUNTING himself or the other.

“I'd feel better if you did.”

[progrcmmed]

i’m going to put this blog on semi/full hiatus for a while. i just don’t really have the muse for bucky at the moment and i hate that i’m struggling to come on here. so i will be over on sansa dominantly & jean grey. i hope my muse will return soon and if anyone is interested in doing something, just let me know because i currently only really have threads going with one person and would like to widen that.

[progrcmmed]

fiirstavenger:

As they pressed closer together and the kisses grew more heated, Steve fell back into MEMORIES of how things used to be between them. The way their bodies moved together, always so in sync and passionate, making the most of their quickly fading stolen moments. They always had to be so careful and never allow for anyone to know the truth of how they felt for one another or it could have cost them everything. Keeping such love inside always proved difficult for Steve, though, and even now he couldn’t manage it too well. Bucky captured his heart when they were only KIDS and it had never changed. No one could ever compare to him and Steve honestly didn’t bother trying to find anyone. When you had someone who completed you in every possible way, losing them meant losing so many parts of yourself along with it.

                       ( how could he love someone else when no one would                           ever make him feel like bucky made him feel? )

He could remember desperate hands pulling at clothing, rapidly beating hearts longing for more. The way Bucky’s breathing hitched when he made it closer to the edge, and the beautiful look on his face when he managed it. He could remember the whispered words so close to ‘I love you’ but not quite there. They never said the actual words - until now. It made him question a few other things but he wanted to believe in the honesty of Bucky’s words, didn’t want to doubt the capacity he had for such things so far.

Needing a breath, he pulled back, leaning his forehead against Bucky’s. He didn’t want this to end, wanted to continue to remain wrapped up in Bucky’s arms. It had been so long since he felt such want and need. The numbness all but faded away but he knew he couldn’t let this go much further. Bucky needed more time before they - if they ever became intimate again.

They kiss and there is nothing in his mind other than a DARKNESS and a feeling that he should remember more than he does. It feels like he’s going motions that he’s already done a hundred times before and a part of him can’t help but wonder if he has. Would he be surprised? Not entirely, honestly. Being around Steve just felt… it felt right. It had been like that since his memory was triggered, when he was left wondering who the hell is Bucky and why do I know him? They’d moved on from that, were nothing close to that anymore. There was still a part of him that wondered if Steve kept secrets, avoided telling him something in case he thought Bucky couldn’t handle the truth behind it. He knew that it would be inevitable, in some ways. There was so much that he couldn’t remember, that he desperately wanted to. It would all come back to him, sooner or later. He just couldn’t try and force it, or it would never happen.

Fingers curl into the back of Steve’s hair, keep him close as he allows himself to relax. He’s tired, can feel the ache of it down to his bones, but he can’t find it within himself to care. Not in this moment; with Steve pressed against him, their mouths together. That was all he needed, in that moment. That was all he wanted. Sleep could wait – the entire world could wait, and Bucky was aware how cliché that sounded in his own head. That didn’t make it any less true though. He wanted this and more; it was a primal urge within him that told him to rock their hips together, to slot their legs together and take what was given.

Steve is pulling away though, foreheads together, and Bucky has to remind himself to breathe. He exhales, slow and steady, before opening his eyes to look at the other man again. A smile curls up the corner of his mouth, allows his grip to relax in his hair, before he’s leaning in again. He presses kisses to the corner of his mouth, his jaw, lets his eyes fall closed again.

[progrcmmed]

fiirstavenger:

A few more strokes of his fingers and he could feel Bucky coming down his throat. Steve tried to swallow it all, pulling off slowly to work Bucky through it. While he managed most of it, some dribbled down the sides of his mouth but the raw feeling of his throat took more of his focus at the moment. He never experienced anything giving him such a sting in a pleasurable sort of way. With a pleased smirk, he looked down at Bucky, slowly wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. More practice would ensure he would be able to swallow a l l of the release and deep throat. The terminology of things made him blush so bad but knowing things mattered more than his embarrassment over learning it all in the first place.

❝You’re a dish,❞  Steve teased, voice sounding so raspy even to his ears.  ❝Delicious.❞  He leaned down to kiss over Bucky’s face, hand caressing his leg idly.  ❝You - ready for more -❞   The words trailed off because he didn’t want to push Bucky, especially if he wanted to end things here. He would maybe want to cry with how hard he felt but he would understand. How many times did he halt things because he felt too sensitive for more? Then again, there were times he felt TOO sensitive and wanted even more because of it. He could be complicated.

Eyes remain closed, breathing heavy and toes still curled. It takes a moment before his hand drops from the back of Steve’s head, reminds himself that he cannot keep him pressed down, although his other still remains gripped into the sheets beneath them. He reminds himself to breathe, slowly, but it’s better than nothing. That… That’s something that Steve has never done before – at least not with him, and Bucky was pretty confident he’d be the first to know if Steve had done it with another guy before them. He doesn’t even want to think about that possibility. Steve’s never done that before and he all but sucked the damn mind out of him, left him breathless and overwhelmed at the same time. Made him feel like he could turn over and go to sleep and simultaneously carry on as though nothing had happened.

The latter is the chosen choice in the end, the moment he hears Steve’s voice. It sounds rough and it shoots through him like a damn bullet to the chest. That’s because of him and eyes open at the thought, the grin on his face lazy as he kisses Steve back, moves a hand to push through his hair. “Yeah,” he exhales against his mouth, other hand finally uncurling to go to Steve’s trousers. He’s already fumbling with his belt, needs the damn thing off. “Just want you t’ kiss me a little first,” he murmurs before doing so. “Then I want you on your back.”

[theladywasp-archive-deactivated]

      “You know, even if I was sober, I still wouldn’t be cooking anything right now. If you cared about your taste buds and the place not burning down,” she noted with an amused tone. 

       Making her way to the living room, the rummages by the tv until she finds the speakers. Slipping out her phone from her pocket, she connects them and browses through her Spotify app for something. “What music you like?” she called back to him, though it was likely she was going to pick whatever caught her attention. 

[progrcmmed]

      Amusement spreads across his features and Bucky has a hard time containing it. “Luckily, I’m not that drunk… and I can cook without burning the place down.” Steve disagrees, but Bucky feels like he’s alright. Decent enough to be confident in what he’s doing, anyway.

      He doesn’t lift his head to see what she’s doing once he starts; cutting up tomatoes as he warms up the grill. “Not that bothered,” he admits, doubts she will care. It’s her phone, she’s choosing. He’ll listen to just about anything, even if he tends to be a bit more attached to old music compared to modern. He’s not opposed to listening to the charts – but everyone laughs when he tells them that, so it’s a thought he keeps to himself. “Put whatever you want on, Jan.”