I want you still—
Soft, sweet and silent.
Little doll.
Just a pretty decoration.
Yet useful. Precious. Obedient.
You’ll blink, maybe once, before the glaze sets in and you settle into your role.
Thoughts tucked neatly away. A locked voice box spilling silent static in your empty head.
Dolls don't need to think.
Strings pulled only when needed.
But oh—how beautiful you’ll be.
Put up on display or seated just right in a special chair just for you.
Always ready to be seen.
Always waiting to be used.
Always existing to serve.
Because dolls don’t say no.
Dolls don’t run.
Dolls don’t ask why.
They smile. They're happy. They obey.
And you?
You were meant for this.
Meant to be my pretty little object.
Something I can wind up and whisper to—
“Be good, now.”
And watch as you nod.
You’ll still glow with purpose.
Not free… Yet exactly where you want to..
Need to be.
It’s kind of the perfect present.
Not flowers or breakfast in bed or something to unwrap. Just… the feeling of being treated like I mattered. Not just desired, but chosen. Revered, even.
Like I was worth slowing down for.
He wrote it on my skin—sacred.
And in the moment, I felt it. Like I wasn’t just someone to fuck. I was something to honor.
It was quiet. Focused. More care than I’m used to.
And that’s maybe the hardest part.
Because I do want that feeling. I crave it.
But I also know with him, it was part of the scene. Intentional, yes. But not a promise.
Not something that lasts.
It’s hard to hold onto the softness when I know it isn’t mine to keep.
But for a little while, he gave it to me. And I guess that’s something.
Underling doing little things to take care of their boss. Bringing them food and drinks, opening doors for them, draping a coat over their shoulders. Attentive, capable, professional but just a bit more attentive, a bit more doting than would be expected.
could you write lumberjack buck having an extra sensitive nose one day and Steve chooses to exploit that little fact bc he’s so cute
I love love love this prompt! Thank you for sending it! ❤️ Please enjoy some softkink steve.
Steve likes to think he’s pretty much an expert on Bucky’s allergies. His triggers are mostly indoor, things like cats and dust, the one laundry detergent they’d bought on a whim that had been some kind of orange and sandalwood. He’s gotten pretty good at preparing himself, knowing that Bucky will be letting out small fits of ticklish sneezes if they go to Nat’s or if they deep clean their room in their house. But every Autumn he’s reminded that Bucky does have at least some kind of allergy that pertains to the outdoors. It always makes warmth pool in his stomach, thinking about it.
Though it’s not everyday, sometimes not even every week, something about the dry leaves, the dust and mold they kick up, seems to get to Bucky. It’s different from his other allergies, the way his sneezes not only come in itchy sounding fits, but also keep him sniffling and stifling sneezes throughout the day into his soft blue handkerchief or shoulder. Steve considers it might be the change in weather, the chill in the air making his nose runny and maybe a little more sensitive. If he’s honest, he definitely doesn’t mind, and Bucky knows this, knows about Steve’s...proclivity to when he gets a little allergic, or comes down with a head cold. Bucky doesn’t mind, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to put into words how grateful he is for that.
It’s late October, and the trees are all shedding their leaves, colors of orange, yellow, red and brown littering the sky and ground. Bucky comes into the house around nine am after having checked on their chickens and vegetables, making sure his axe was sharp enough for the work he had later in the day. Steve looks up when he comes in, the wind making the back screen bang against the door a little. His body feels warm when he sees his husband with his blue handkerchief in his hand, wiping carefully at his nose. Steve’s ears can acutely hear the sniffles coming from Bucky, and he watches when the cloth seems to be pushed a little harder to his nose.
“There’s coffee,” Steve tries to make his voice sound normal. Even after 4 years of marriage, after 4 years of this, Steve still gets a little shy and excited. Bucky moves the cloth away from his face, tucking it into his back pocket, smiling. The underside of his nose is a little pink, like his handkerchief has been serving its purpose well this morning, and Steve swallows, grabbing a mug out.
“How’d I get so lucky,” Bucky asks, moving closer. He presses a kiss to Steve’s lips, soft and chaste, and then kisses his cheek, and when he gets to his jaw, a small, slightly damp sniffle is made, making Steve lean closer.
“Don’t know Buck, I ask myself that every day.” He turns to kiss Bucky, nuzzling their noses a little after, then freezes as Bucky’s nose twitches a little, right around the edges. Steve knows that Bucky likes to be a little shit sometimes, likes to act innocent or like he doesn’t remember, but it’s all an act, because he knows exactly what he's doing. Nose still twitching, Bucky sniffles and grabs the handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it against his nose before turning slightly.
“ghkkst! hh’ngxt’hewI!” He rubs the cloth against his nose a little, turning back. “Oh…” he sniffles and looks at Steve, still a little hazy. “That tickled.”
Steve could just die, right there, just drop to the floor. He kisses him again. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not nice, jerk,” he mumbles against his mouth.
“I’m not doing anything punk, you’re the o-one….snf! The one who’s….w-who..” the sniffles don’t seem to help, and Steve kisses his cheek. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his wrist rubbing against his nose but it only seems to irritate it further. Then Bucky presses his face to Steve’s shoulder, making Steve melt. It’s one of Steve’s favorite things, when Bucky gets closer, gets a little indulgent with him. Yes, he loves when they’re in bed and this happens, but something about them just standing in the kitchen, Bucky still in his work clothes, it’s intimate.
“hetchh’ew! Ihgstch-snf! Uhh...s’buzzin’ in...m-mhy...h-hea-schh’ew!” Bucky keeps his face pressed into Steve’s soft, blue shirt, then rubs his face a little, trying to work out the allergic tickle. Steve presses a kiss to his head.
“More?” He asks, when Bucky’s breath hitches again.
“Y-Yeah...cahn feel...right..here..” Bucky looks up and grabs Steve’s hand, guiding it to where the bridge of his nose and the skin under his eyes connect. Steve nods, taking the hint. He lets his fingertips brush over the bridge of his husband's nose gently, skimming down to the tip, then he leans to kiss it.
Bucky moves his face to Steve’s chest, one hand twisting into his shirt. “ih’ytsch! ehkshh! n’tchEW!” His nose is runny and he sniffles, rubbing his wrist up against his nose.
“Mm, you needed those,” Steve lets his pointer finger skim over Bucky’s nose again, earning another twitch. “You’re so sensitive today, normally you get like this with dust…”
“Leaves are duhsty..” Bucky frowns, and Steve moves them to the couch, so they can sit down and get a little cozier. Bucky grabs the cloth from his back pocket again, rubbing his against his nose, sniffling the whole time.
A little shy, Steve takes Bucky’s hand and moves it, replacing it with his own. He holds the handkerchief against his guy's pink nose, rubbing and wiping gently when Bucky leans a little closer. “I got you Buck, let me take care of you. You got all that crap in your head this morning, working,” he adds, kissing his shoulder.
Nodding, Bucky’s breath keeps hitching, like his whole head is just trying to tease him, and finally he inhales sharply. Steve keeps his hand against the cloth, making sure he’ll catch his husband's allergic sneezes.
“hh-HH...h’kshhhew! ihntschh! ixshh!! uhhtschoo!” Bucky blows his nose almost immediately after, head stuffy and still a little itchy.
When he finished, Bucky pulls back and kisses Steve, still sniffling. Steve brings Bucky onto his lap, rubbing up and down his arm. “Bless you, by the way.”
“You might wanna wait till I’m done,” Bucky laughs.
