Work of Art- [Request] Imagine Bucky just getting back from his solitary life in the world by himself , he just moved into the Avengers’ tower, and he’s still insecure about his metal arm, so Steve decides to paint his arm.
\ * sunbeams & rhythms | the boys have a surprise for you at your darkest time of need {challenge entry}
\ * if three’s a crowd, then what does that make four | you, steve, and bucky are very happy with your current arrangement… until you find out something that might change the dynamic {challenge entry}
\ * operation decoration | you expected to come home to a decorated house. what you actually came home to was two cranky men and a mess {challenge entry}
\ * after hours | bucky and steve pay you a visit at work {challenge entry}
→ s t u c k y
\ * unwanted | steve tries to make up after a bad fight
…Bucky was watching Steve, watching you. The handsome blonde was scrutinizing the way you were drinking the glass of water the waiter had set on the table before you, not masking his concern.
In truth, you were gulping it down as though you’d been stranded in the desert for a month, but this had become the norm for you, another sign of your pregnancy. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, even with your powers.
Bucky had been keeping a closer eye on you as well, so he didn’t blame Steve, really. But he was being too obvious, and in an effort to prevent you from noticing and becoming worried about him in return, Bucky gently kicks Steve under the table.
Those bright blue eyes snap to his own, and a somewhat meek expression plays over his face. “So, um,” Steve clears his throat and looks at you again, this time with a small smile tugging the corners of his lips. “Bucky and I have been talking-“
You snort adorably, your eyebrow quirking, “oh, just talking? I thought I heard a little more than tha—“
“Yes, well,” He interjects as Bucky laughs, “amongst other activities we talked. About you, the baby, and our next steps.”
At this, you set your water down and glance between them, eyes narrowing. Bucky already sensed your thoughts—that they had been plotting behind your back. He automatically reaches out and drapes an arm around your shoulders.
“Not like that, sweet girl,” Steve corrects, his eyes briefly meeting Bucky’s before he gives you a nervous smile. He hesitates and Bucky gives him an encouraging nod. “I was hoping—that is, will you marry me?”…
Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of violence/war (brief), smut, threesome, mention of pain kink (brief).
A/N: Welcome to the complicated world I created just for us.
The first time Bucky had seen you had been the same as today; you walking away, unaware of his gaze. This time however it wasn’t in the streets of Bucharest, rather the heart of New York City. This time, you weren’t walking away to be unsuspicious, to remain another face in the crowd while secretly determining how to help Steve convince him that Captain America wanted to help Bucky. No, now you were walking alone, leaves crunching underfoot as you hurried away from the Tower with fresh tears staining your cheeks.
The biggest difference, however, was that Bucky knew you now. He wasn’t trying to hide from anyone when he hurried out of the Tower after you. He followed, unsure of what exactly was going on but knowing enough to keep a polite distance. He had been showering when you were in the kitchen with Steve, having a conversation, and had been dressing when the sound of the front door slamming met his ears, followed by Steve cursing aloud.
As much as he wanted to comfort him, Bucky knew that you needed him more, and so he followed.
Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of violence/war (brief), smut, threesome, mention of pain kink (brief).
A/N: Welcome to the complicated world I created just for us.
The first time Bucky had seen you had been the same as today; you walking away, unaware of his gaze. This time however it wasn’t in the streets of Bucharest, rather the heart of New York City. This time, you weren’t walking away to be unsuspicious, to remain another face in the crowd while secretly determining how to help Steve convince him that Captain America wanted to help Bucky. No, now you were walking alone, leaves crunching underfoot as you hurried away from the Tower with fresh tears staining your cheeks.
The biggest difference, however, was that Bucky knew you now. He wasn’t trying to hide from anyone when he hurried out of the Tower after you. He followed, unsure of what exactly was going on but knowing enough to keep a polite distance. He had been showering when you were in the kitchen with Steve, having a conversation, and had been dressing when the sound of the front door slamming met his ears, followed by Steve cursing aloud.
As much as he wanted to comfort him, Bucky knew that you needed him more, and so he followed.
You know, I have a problem. I’m starting to lose words when it comes to your writing. I feel like I always write the same thing! I just love all your works and my english is not good enough at saying how much I love this.
Like, everytime, I just… swallow every word, every sentence and I’m amazed. Whenever I read your works and then look at mine, I feel like a neandertal woman in stone age. *points at your work* Me like. Me want more.
Your storybuilding is incredible. Imo, there is a thin line where you write how certain characters meet and how their feelings change and it can feel so forced so easily. But you got it flawlessly every time. And don’t let mr start on how you can transition between fluff and smut. It can be very cringey when written poorly but You always build it up snf ut feels natural. Plus, your writing makes me literally go from to or . (As you can see, I literally cannot word anymore so emojis we go…)
You are really too kind to me @wildmoonflower! I love seeing when you’ve read one of my works and can’t wait to read your thoughts each time.
I’m sure you know that anytime a creator sees actual comments/comment reblogs it can make their entire day! Same goes for me, I get so motivated to write thanks to sharing my work here on tumblr and getting feedback from my readers. Before, I had partly written ideas I didn’t take anywhere, and now I have a collection of finished stories and series and get so excited to get in the zone and write so that I can share it with lovely followers like you!
Justthank you so much for taking the time to say such lovely things, and I can’t wait to share more of this story! It’s only just begun!
Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of violence/war (brief), smut, threesome, mention of pain kink (brief).
A/N: Welcome to the complicated world I created just for us.
The first time Bucky had seen you had been the same as today; you walking away, unaware of his gaze. This time however it wasn’t in the streets of Bucharest, rather the heart of New York City. This time, you weren’t walking away to be unsuspicious, to remain another face in the crowd while secretly determining how to help Steve convince him that Captain America wanted to help Bucky. No, now you were walking alone, leaves crunching underfoot as you hurried away from the Tower with fresh tears staining your cheeks.
The biggest difference, however, was that Bucky knew you now. He wasn’t trying to hide from anyone when he hurried out of the Tower after you. He followed, unsure of what exactly was going on but knowing enough to keep a polite distance. He had been showering when you were in the kitchen with Steve, having a conversation, and had been dressing when the sound of the front door slamming met his ears, followed by Steve cursing aloud.
As much as he wanted to comfort him, Bucky knew that you needed him more, and so he followed.
Warnings: 18+, language, mentions of violence/war (brief), smut, threesome, mention of pain kink (brief).
A/N: Welcome to the complicated world I created just for us.
The first time Bucky had seen you had been the same as today; you walking away, unaware of his gaze. This time however it wasn’t in the streets of Bucharest, rather the heart of New York City. This time, you weren’t walking away to be unsuspicious, to remain another face in the crowd while secretly determining how to help Steve convince him that Captain America wanted to help Bucky. No, now you were walking alone, leaves crunching underfoot as you hurried away from the Tower with fresh tears staining your cheeks.
The biggest difference, however, was that Bucky knew you now. He wasn’t trying to hide from anyone when he hurried out of the Tower after you. He followed, unsure of what exactly was going on but knowing enough to keep a polite distance. He had been showering when you were in the kitchen with Steve, having a conversation, and had been dressing when the sound of the front door slamming met his ears, followed by Steve cursing aloud.
As much as he wanted to comfort him, Bucky knew that you needed him more, and so he followed.
He’d been mesmerized by you the moment he saw you that first time. You were with Steve, hunting him—the Winter Soldier—trying to find Bucky before SHIELD or anyone else could. He remembers being torn between looking at Steve, taking in how his best friend had changed over all the years that had passed while he was the Winter Soldier, and gazing at you. Your face was almost like an open book; he could read every expression upon it even with such limited knowledge of who you even were.
The first time he saw Steve touch you in an affectionate way that signalled the romance between you, Bucky had felt a ripping tear in his heart. He had always loved Steve. He would, he knew, until the day he died. But it wasn’t quite jealousy that he felt as he surreptitiously surveyed the two of you from the containment pod he’d been placed in after you had all been arrested. It was a new feeling, a mixture of deep longing and sorrow, intense attraction, a need to feel wanted.
To love and be loved endlessly.
And then they were all on the run, and Bucky found himself readjusting to his mind and body, while simultaneously falling for you and harder for Steve. It was a confusing, difficult time—he had always been unsure and afraid of how he felt for Steve Rogers. For so much time to have passed, to feel those things for his best friend again, it was overwhelming. Add to that the way he reverently admired you, and he wasn’t functioning at his best. It was months of the best kind of agony before he snuck away with Steve to Wakanda.
Now though, as you walked quickly up ahead, it wasn’t about Steve, or Bucky even. It was about you, and the ways you had suffered since Bucky came into your life. You were like a bright star in everyone’s life, a constant, strong and beautiful and so full of life—but your gasping cries that you were attempting to suppress, which his enhanced hearing caught with ease, told him you were breaking.
Breaking because you were in an impossible situation, between Steve and him. If you were a star-Steve was the sun, and that meant that he, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, was the moon. And you were stuck between them. Between the sun and the moon.
“Peach,” He finally called to you when you crossed a busy street with barely a glance and a taxi screeched to a stop, laying on his horn. You ignored the taxi and Bucky, continuing your path to the East River and he quickened his steps until he was level with you, resisting the urge to pull you into his side protectively.
For a few minutes, he walked in tandem with you, his eyes darting around instinctively, though it was a beautiful fall day and most people were trying to spend the time in parks or buildings with good views of Central Park, not aggressively marching toward the river. When it was within sight, you broke the silence, your voice low, “He told you?”
Bucky knew that this would happen, which was why he’d told Steve to rethink how he spoke to you—but stubborn as ever, Steve Rogers had trouble taking that sort of advice. “Last night, Peach. He knew I saw it coming, wanted me to be prepared for when you were told.”
“I just,” You stop abruptly, spinning to look up at Bucky and he instantly tugs you closer, his metal arm securing around your waist. “I don’t get why he’s acting like…all secretive with me. Does he not think I’d understand or support him?” You brush furiously at a few tears that leak out of your eyes and Bucky glances around, spotting a vacant storefront vestibule to stand in, out of the way of the sidewalk traffic.
He leads you there gently, mulling over his response. “I think he worries the most about the differences between us and you. He—and I—we’re in our late thirties, but really we’re over a hundred, Peach,” Bucky smooths his flesh thumb across your cheek, “After everything that happened, and losing Tony, rebuilding…it took its toll on all of us but you keep going. You are so strong and ready to do what you can every single day, and I’m sure he’s afraid what you’ll think of his decision.”
“He’s retiring from being Captain America, Bucky. He’s not going to stop being Steve Rogers. He’s not going to stop being one of the loves of my life. Steve knows that I—that we both—would support him no matter what.”
Bucky sighed, nodding in agreement and preparing to tell you a truth he’d hoped to avoid. He gave himself away, his jaw tensing, and you narrowed your eyes slightly, waiting. “I’m going to tell you something, and I want—need—you to think about it before you react, alright?” You gave a stiff nod, shoulders tense, and he could hear the rate of your heartbeat increase slightly. “First, he didn’t tell me this. He doesn’t know that I know. I overheard him talking to Bruce before he did the time jump to return the stones.”
Both of you remembered that day clearly, it had been a beautiful, sunny morning and yet there was so much grief and exhaustion left from the recent defeat of Thanos. It didn’t feel like a victory, in many ways. “What did you hear, Bucky?”
“They were sitting together, finalizing the plans and Steve said he wondered if he shouldn’t come back. If he should stay in the past and start fresh, and let us move on together,” Bucky saw the hurt and surprise in your eyes as you stared up at him, and wished he didn’t have to tell you this. He always hated saying anything that didn’t make you happy. “He thinks we love each other enough to be able to live without him. But he said he couldn’t bring himself to do it, because he selfishly loves us both too much. And he feels horrible for choosing his own happiness, at that moment. Bruce disagreed, but you know how Steve can get.”
“Bucky,” You pressed closer to him, wide eyes are drawn with hurt, “He was going to just…stay? Never see us again and not even tell us?” Though it had been several months since that revelation that Bucky wasn’t even supposed to have heard, it felt fresh again as he saw the same heartache cut at you that he had experienced. But the tears surprised him; your face crumples as he nods to your words and then you’re crying and he can’t figure out why, when you were always the one to grow angry, to rage until Bucky could calm you, or Steve could distract you.
He gathers you closer, a noise of protest rumbling in his chest at your tears, and he smooths his hands down your hair and leans closer, “Peach, talk to me. What’s going on—why did you run out like that?” Usually, when one or both of them upset you or frustrated you—a rare occasion—you would go on a walk to cool your head. Bucky had anticipated that you would do the same today, after speaking with Steve. But he’d been surprised at the way you slammed out of the penthouse.
It just wasn’t like you; when you were angry enough you stuck around and raged. Inevitably calming enough to allow them to care for you—Steve was the passionate one, Bucky was the protective one, and you were the calm between them that made the dynamic work so well. Your every action today was unlike you, and it concerned him.
You sniffled a few times before drawing your head from his chest and glancing around, “It’s just, he said that he wants to travel, and find a home that’s out of the city—all things we’ve all spoken about before. Only he said ‘Doll, you and Bucky are my life, but you don’t have to change your whole life because of me.’ He said I’d already sacrificed too much, Bucky,” Your eyes find him again, and you bring your hands to clutch at his jacket. “What if he’s regretting not staying back? What if he wanted to find that woman—Peggy?—and just start over? And now he’s trying to get rid of me, knowing you’ll follow, so he can-”
“No,” Bucky growled, cutting you off and capturing your face gently in his hands, “No Peach, that’s not it. I promise you he doesn’t want to leave us, not for anything or anyone,” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “Now, let me take you home. Steve went out, he knew you’d need space. He’s visiting Rhodey, so we have the place to ourselves.”
You searched Bucky’s face and found no reason to disbelieve him because he never could lie to you. He could omit or avoid like a pro, but straight-out lies weren’t something he could do to you. That was another difference between Bucky and Steve, that he could never lie and yet Steve would want to protect you from more truths, it’s why the relationship worked so well. They balanced one another, and you grounded them.
The walk home was silent, but you held his hand tight in yours and didn’t object when he tucked you into his side when the Tower came into view. It was much busier here, with the Tower being next to Grand Central Station, and he liked to avoid crowds, leading you along carefully. He could tell that there was a reason behind your evident fear today, yet he couldn’t get a read on it. Nothing over the last few days had seemed amiss, other than Steve’s eyes clouding over as he considered how to speak to you about his retirement.
He broke while in the elevator, unable to stand another moment so unsure of your thoughts. After asking FRIDAY to bring you both to the main residence, he blurted out, “what’s going on, really?”
You shift uncomfortably, your eyes flickering away from his and landing somewhere on the marble flooring of the elevator. When it dings the arrival and the doors open to the quiet penthouse, you rush out and he has to follow you—this is the sort of behaviour that would make Steve throw you over his shoulder. Bucky, however, was the talker.
“Peach,goddamn it, where are you going?”
He can see exactly where you were heading but hoped to get you speaking. You just continued toward the bedroom—the large primary suite that you shared with Bucky and Steve. When you entered, you went straight into the ensuite and Bucky heard your stomach make an alarming noise at the same moment you dropped to your knees and emptied its contents into the toilet.
Bucky shot forward, panicked, one hand snatching carefully at your hair and holding it back for you while he felt your forehead with the other. It was instinct to check your temperature, but the thing was, it did no good. You never got sick. You wretched again, this time only throwing up bile, and Bucky grunted in frustration—you did not get sick. He’d never even seen you even so much as cough.
“I’m okay,” You’re panting, though you seem to be done and he flushes the toilet before lifting and carrying you to sit on a lounger near the large soaker tub. He then gets you a glass of cold water and watches as you greedily drink it down. “Thank you—Bucky, stop glowering, I’m alright.”
You reach out for him and he drops to sit in front of you, frowning. “You don’t get sick. You’ve never been sick a day in your life, and you’re this calm after-after that? What the hell?” He grabs your hands in his own and gives you a desperate look as he pushes his enhanced senses to their limit. He can hear the steady beat of your heart, the air moving through your lungs. You smell like peaches, though there’s a mix of vomit polluting that and he thinks there might be something else there, but before he can lean in to start sniffing you, you hiccup. “Damn it, what is going on?”
It was a universally known truth that you could not be harmed, get ill, or die. Your powers, since birth, healed you too quickly. Even small bodily reactions that a normal person might have—a cough, sneeze, hiccup—didn’t affect you. Your powers healed even those irritants so quickly that you weren’t affected. He’d seen you take serious, life-ending hits at the battle in Wakanda against Thanos’s army, and you simply shook them off. Fear and panic were now at the forefront of his mind, forcing him to imagine your abilities fading, injuries and illness overwhelming you and your body shutting down, decaying…
“Hey, stay here with me, Bucky,” You coo, your soft voice pulling him from the swirling mix of emotions, “It’s not what you’re thinking. I just, I don’t know how…I thought Steve…”
You trail off and he gazes at you in bewilderment, “Peach, give me something here or I’m calling Dr. Banner.” His voice is determinedly steady, despite his confusion and frustration.
“He already knows about this,” You reply, you’re expression full of emotion. “We—the three of us—we haven’t talked about this yet. I don’t know what either of you…Christ. Bucky, I’m pregnant.”
Immediately his concern that you were on death’s door evaporates and instead is replaced with a dawning sort of emotion, a flurry where he can’t quite feel any specific one. “You—oh my god, Peach!” He reaches for you and plants you on his lap. After a pause, he pulls back and hits the brakes before showing too much excitement, “Wait—I know we haven’t talked about this, and I don’t know what you’re feeling about it but I want you to know I support you no matter what, alright? Are you—did you want…?”
A smile flickers across your face, “I’m happy I’m having a baby. It’s everything else. We were still figuring this—us—out. And Steve wants to retire and this is just another big life event and it’s—“
You break off, giving Bucky an uncertain look, your lower lip drawing between your teeth. He tucks some hair behind your ear, “Tell me. No holding back on this, we’re going to figure it all out, so spill.”
“But that’s just it, Bucky. We needed to talk about this before I got pregnant, and I wasn’t expecting to—well, before the blip I was on birth control.”
You’re looking at Bucky but the words don’t seem to sink in the way you expected, and he frowns when you run a hand over your face. “Okay…”
“I was on birth control, and Steve and I hadn’t had sex in a few weeks before we came back to you in Wakanda.”
Bucky blinks, twice, slowly. He stares at you, “I—but I was the only one who—”
“Right, and Bruce puts the baby at just over twelves weeks. I got pregnant that day, we blipped, and when we came back it…continued. The baby, it’s yours Bucky, and I don’t even know how to tell Steve because—“
Bucky’s head jerks to the door before you finish speaking, his hearing catching the breath that his tall, lifetime friend and lover draws in upon hearing your words. You follow Bucky’s gaze in confusion, and he watches as you meet Steve’s eyes.
“Doll, did you just say you’re pregnant?”
Three Months Before
When Bucky wakes from cryo, the first thing he does is ask after Steve and you. Ayo is kind and updates him, assures him that you’re both fine, if still on the run. He hates himself for leaving, even though he knows it was the right decision. He was too much of a liability, being on the run with you and Steve and Sam. He thinks back to the night, a few weeks into running, that you had asked him not to leave because you sensed his turmoil and guilt.
And there had been no point in lying, even if he could lie to you, he knew that your powers extended past healing—they included an extra sense for emotions that hurt the brain. Sadness was natural; he could feel it and you wouldn’t know. But the guilt he put on his shoulders? That you seemed to sense, and you tried convincing Bucky he didn’t need to feel guilty for the things he had done, for what HYDRA had done to him.
He let you think that was the only reason he went into cryo.
Ayo spends the weeks following his awakening working hard to rid Bucky of the conditioning that the HYDRA scientists had etched into his brain. It’s painful, physically and emotionally, but every time he loses hope and grows tired he thinks of Steve and you, that cabin in the middle of nowhere. The way you smelled like peaches, and what it felt like to watch Steve press gentle kisses to your forehead, that surge of affection and longing.
He weeps when the work is done–after Ayo has tested him to prove that the words no longer have any effect on him—that he will never be under the control of anyone ever again is so freeing that he cries as though being reborn, and he doesn’t know how to thank her, or the other Wakandan’s who aided in the research to help him. He spends the next several months helping in any way he can, anywhere in Wakanda. The nub where his left arm used to be healed from the metal arm being torn off, his hair grew, and the time in the sun gave his skin a glow.
At night, he falls asleep dreaming of you and Steve before the nightmares twist in, overtaking the warm thoughts and splaying the Winter Soldier’s memories out for him to rewatch. There isn’t a full night’s sleep, and he never climbs into his bed. It helps that the floor of his room within the Wakandan palace is laid with fine and cool marble, the hard surface a distraction, the super-soldier serum ensuring he doesn’t feel pain from tossing and turning night after night on the floor.
Now, he wonders if it’s the sun-kissed skin or longer hair or frown lines that make you freeze when you step off the ship, paces behind Steve, who goes straight for the King, T’Challa, in a warm greeting. Bucky had only found out you were coming that very morning when the King approached him with a final gift—a vibranium arm, black laced with gold—and told him that a fight was on its way. Ayo was the one to explain to him in greater detail what was happening; who the enemy was, and who was coming to help protect Wakanda.
The way your eyes widen tells him you weren’t expecting to see him—you must have thought he’d still be frozen, or that he had left Wakanda. Likewise, Bucky gazes at you, seeing you for what feels nearly like the first time, so different as he was now. Your hair is much longer as well, braided back off your face, and you wear a tactical suit that looks expensive and sturdy. You look beautiful, though the sight of you in battle gear makes his heart sting, and the moment the feeling moves through him, he sees you flinch.
Before he can move, King T’Challa steps into his view, blocking you, and is ushering Steve in his direction. His best friend looks different too—his eyes are tired, though they’re bright when they meet his own, and his hair is longer than Bucky had ever seen it, a beard to match that stirs something inside of him. Bucky hears himself say something witty, but he’s focused on the way Steve’s expression changes before they embrace.
His breath is cool on Bucky’s ear, “Missed you, Buck. Both of us.”
It’s been several hours and you haven’t come near him. Bucky watches you, longs to go to you and beg for forgiveness, but battle plans are being made and there’s so much activity that it’s not possible to storm across the room. So he watches you, studies the tension in your shoulders, and he sees you flinch, even let out small gasps that you hide behind false coughs, and he realizes that the room is swirling with too many negative emotions and you’re overwhelmed.
When you finally meet his gaze from across the room, Bucky holds it and lets himself feel the desperation for you. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve glance between you both, then returns his attention to the conversation around him. You must get a read on something from Steve because you reach a handout and press it to his wrist and he visibly relaxes. His gaze falls to you and there’s a brief, silent exchange there that Bucky can’t understand, and then you’re walking across the room to Ayo.
She smiles at you politely. When you speak to her, your voice is too low even for Bucky to hear because of all the voices in the room, but he watches intently as Ayo grows confused, then understanding clears her expression and she smirks at you knowingly. With a nod to another Wakandan, who she says something to briefly, you’re sweeping out of the room, following them hastily.
Bucky doesn’t hesitate to move around the room and Ayo’s eyes follow him the entire time, lit with amusement. “Where did she go?” He demands, his voice low with respect but edged.
Ayo only smiles wider, “You might want to make a visit to your room, White Wolf.”
He gives her a curt nod before hurrying away, his mind running hundreds of scenarios, most of them involving you slapping him for leaving the way he did. He wouldn’t blame you for that sort of reaction; he spent months building a friendship with you while on the run, promising he wouldn’t disappear, and then pulled Steve into his plan to escape to Wakanda for the proffered cryo containment.
When he gets to his room, footsteps heavy, the door is ajar and he steps inside quietly, pushing it shut behind him. You’re standing at his bedside table, a hand tracing over the book he was reading—The Hobbit, an old favourite.
“You don’t need to feel so guilty, Bucky. I knew you were going to leave.”
He stills, surveying you slowly and lifting his brows as he considers the implication behind your words. “You can sense…me, that well?”
You shrug, turning to face him and crossing your arms, “If I really focus, I can pick up on a lot of emotions. But certain people give off more, or I’m tuned into them better, I guess.”
“And I’m one of the ones you can tune into…?”
“One of the only ones I can to that degree, actually.”
Your gaze falls away and you bite your lip, as if aware that you’ve revealed more than you’d wanted to. Bucky frowns, “Who else can you—?”
“My parents. Steve. You,” A thrill runs down his spine at the admission, and hope flares within. You must feel it because you smile. “Come on, Bucky Barnes. You must have realized how I felt. Feel.”
He ignores that comment for a moment. “I thought you could only feel the negative emotions?”
“Apparently that limitation doesn’t apply to you, Steve or my parents.” You reply curtly, eyeing Bucky now and he knows you want him to address what you said.
“I…don’t think I deserve to be grouped with them,” He admits, and you tilt your head, frowning. “Peach, Steve is my best friend. And I care about you too Goddamn much to even entertain—”
When you let out a soft chuckle, he breaks off and stares at you in surprise. “Entertain? Bucky, I think we can all agree that whatever this is between us, it’s out of our control. And I thought Steve was dense when it came to emotions,” You take a few steps closer, tilting your head to gaze up at him. “I know you love him. And that he loves you. The feelings between you both—Christ, they’re intense. You both sucked me right into them without realizing it. The desire and guilt and fucking turmoil.”
Bucky shifts, running a hand through his hair. “Peach, he and I have always—but we never, and would never, not now.” He can’t say it, can’t admit to himself or out loud what he means, even if you understand him.
“I hope you’re not letting yourself be old school, Bucky. Because Steve certainly doesn’t.”
He frowns, confused, “What does that even mean?”
You meet his eyes and there’s an emotion there that doesn’t make sense to Bucky. “He thinks of you—and thought of you well before we knew you were alive. What you two had, back then it was more emotional than anything, and I get that. But it’s always been meant to be so much more. And I don’t know how I fit into that, all I know is that when I’m riding Steve and I mention you, it never fails to send him straight over the edge.”
“Jesus, Peach, what are you doing?” He interjects, heat blooming across his cheeks. His heartbeat triples, the memories of those long nights spring forth, the nights where the most they allowed physically was brushing their hands together. It had felt like almost enough, but as he pictures Steve with you, the feeling in his chest liquifies, molten pooling in his stomach.
“I’m saying what you’re too afraid to. You love Steve, and he’s always loved you Bucky,” You close the gap now, and it’s when your chest brushes against his shirt that he realizes he’s nearly panting. “And I—I love you both, and I know Steve feels the same way. So really, it all comes down to you.”
“I—what are you even saying? I don’t understand this, Peach.” He’s desperate for you to turn the conversation onto a clearer path, because where he thinks this is going sounds both too good to be true, and terrifying. You smile softly, eyes heavy now with desire and he wants to groan.
“I love it when you call me Peach,” You say, voice sugar sweet and dangerous, “This is a lot, I know. But in case we die today, I wanted you to know, and I wanted to do this.”
Bucky instinctively catches you when you raise to your tip-toes and throw your arms around his neck. He gasps the moment your lips meet his, capturing them in a searing kiss he doesn’t even try to resist. It’s too late now; he can hear your heart, smell the tang of your arousal, taste the goddamn peach flavour on your tongue. You pull back as though to end the kiss, as if he would want you to, and make a noise that shoots straight to his hardening cock when he gently grips your face with one hand and pulls you back to his lips.
He uses the way your mouth opens to moan to slide his tongue in again and you press your body harder against his own. It’s only a few minutes, but the message behind your words sinks in—they could all die today.
And he doesn’t want to die not knowing what it’s like to be with you.
When you bite at his lip teasingly moments later and your hands slide to unbutton his pants, everything becomes a flurry of motion and clothing being tugged off until you stare at one another in nothing but your underwear.
Bucky surveys you and he sees the definition of beauty. He takes a step back and gazes at you, letting his eyes move slowly from head to toe, taking in the flush of your skin, the tightened buds barely hidden beneath the soft fabric of your bra. He appreciates that you have a body unique and all your own, yet reminiscent of his time, of Steve’s time. Curvy, full-figured, utter perfection. When he meets your eyes, a strong surge of possessiveness courses through him and your eyes flutter in response, your powers capturing the emotion.
“Buckyplease, touch me.”
He drops to his knees and shuffles towards you, pressing his face to your stomach, and trailing kisses along the soft skin. His hand—the real one—caresses your leg and cups your behind, resulting in a soft sigh from you, and he smiles before hooking his fingers around your panties and ripping them off. He half expects you to object, instead, you giggle. He made you giggle.
“Something funny, Peach,” He murmurs, tracing gently over the neatly trimmed curls before him, then along the seam of your sex. You whimper, trembling, and he pauses to glance up at you, waiting for a reply.
“I—it’s just, Steve does that too.”
There’s something about the way you say it and the image that Bucky’s mind conjures, it sends a roll of desire down his body and he’s standing in a flash, lifting you before dropping you gently onto his bed and climbing over your body. He cages you in and licks and nips at your skin, marking you, and you give soft moans of delight, writhing around eagerly. He’s surprised at the speed at which things intensify, but then, he’s always known how imminent battle brings things to the surface.
Bucky has to press his hips down to help still you, and then he slips his right hand down to your core, fingers skimming along as he watches your eyes, pupils blown out in desire. “So wet for me, Peach.” He dips two fingers into the wet heat of you, and your eyes roll in response. He can’t help but let out a grunt as he realizes how tight you are, “Fuck, how are you thistight?”
It was a rhetorical question that you answer regardless, “Healing powers, Bucky,” There’s a pause as the words register in his brain, and he must be showing his confusion because you laugh and elaborate, “Cell regeneration, Sergeant. You can do whatever you want to me and it all goes right back to this. Steve’s tested the theory more than enough times.”
“Fuck,” He hisses, pulling his hand from you and licking his fingers clean. Salt and peach, just the perfect balance; he groans, “What does Steve do to you, Sweet Peach?” He whispers, and you whimper for him, your hips fighting unsuccessfully against the weight of him, desperate to seek more friction.
When he doesn’t relent, you get feistier, “You want to hear all about how Stevie fucks me, Bucky? Want me to tell you how good he is, holds me down and just doesn’t stop, how if it’s too much all I have to do is mention you and he’ll come in seconds for me?”
Bucky growls again, dipping his head and sinking his teeth into your neck. He doesn’t go too hard, but you whimper so happily he half wonders if he should. The very small (at the moment) active part of his brain thinks that you might have a bit of a pain kink. But the rest of him is hyper-focused on you and the dirty admissions you’re making, and he grounds his hips down after pushing your legs apart. The cloth of his boxers is the only thing separating your heat from his steel erection and you both make noises of desire at the feeling.
“So—uh, so that’s what really gets you going, Bucky? Because it’s the same for Steve, he loves when I talk about you,” You’re practically purring now, and Bucky still presses kisses along your body, overwhelmed yet more turned on than he’s ever been. “I can talk about him, for you, or…fuck, or I—”
You break off abruptly and Bucky looks up from where he’d been paying your breasts attention. “Peach?”
You struggle to sit up on your elbows, your eyes focused on him intensely, “I can show you.”
Bucky becomes aware of the breathing behind him about one second after you speak, and then your eyes flicker over his shoulder and instinct makes him whirl protectively, his vibranium arm covering your chest, but his eyes don’t find a threat.
No, it’s Steve, and Bucky is about to jump away from you and starting apologizing, but then he registers the look on his friend’s face. Cornflower blue iris’ swallowed up by desire-blown pupils, his breathing heavy and ragged, lower lip drawing between his teeth. One hand is still on the lock to Bucky’s room, twisted in place. When he speaks, his voice is so low Bucky wonders if you can even hear it. “We’ve got some time.”
He’s across the room in two steps, pausing at the edge of the bed and slowly, carefully, pushing one hand up Bucky’s neck and into his hair. He’s still got his arm over your chest and glances your way, unsure of what to do. But you’re laying there with a pleased and excited expression, watching them, and when you meet Bucky’s eyes you smile encouragingly.
Taking that as permission, he looks back up at his best friend and lets his lips part, and Steve moves instantly. It’s not like it was kissing you, a different version of perfection; this kiss is hard and almost furious, pent-up feelings coming to the surface and demanding attention. Steve’s grip turns rough and then he lets out a frustrated, longing sound that tears right through Bucky’s heart.
You feel it all, the turmoil, the grief and longing, evident when you whimper as though in pain and they break apart to look at you, each panting for air. Steve’s hard gaze softens, “Darling, we’re okay. Come here.”
You reach out and Bucky almost wants to move back and out of the way, but when Steve shifts he lets his hand fall to Bucky’s shoulder and encourages him to stay still. Climbing behind you, Steve pushes the cushions off the bed, and settles down, his legs on either side of your curvy frame, and then tugs at Bucky. You put a hand on Steve’s leg, then one on Bucky’s real arm, and instantly he feels soothed, the cool wash of your powers helping him to focus.
You’re leaning back against Steve’s chest as he tugs Bucky closer, his body hovering over yours as his lips are captured again by the blonde. He groans, falling into the kiss without hesitation, and thanks to you he doesn’t feel as conflicted. Your powers don’t manipulate feelings, they just soothe the ones that grow too intense and help to refocus thoughts. And now all of his thoughts are split to you and Steve; the taste of his friend’s mouth. The heat of their tongues dancing. The feel of you trembling between them.
He kisses Steve like he’d wanted to for decades, nothing holding him back now. After a few moments, he shifts slightly so that he can run his metal arm over you, and he isn’t sure if you’ll like that, but when he pinches a nipple between the cool fingertips, you let out a sound that shoots straight to his already rock hard cock and he swears he feels himself spurt pre-cum.
Steve breaks the kiss, gazing at Bucky with such adoration that he thinks he may have fallen into a dream. “Gotta take care of our girl, Buck.” Steve slides a hand across your stomach and dips between your legs and you jerk in response, mouth falling open deliciously, but he can’t move yet, pausing to look between Steve and you.
“Ourgirl?”
Steve grabs Bucky’s free hand with his own, squeezing, “Ours. We’re…all each others, and we can figure that out after we save the world, okay?”
Bucky seeks your eyes out, and you smile, “Bucky, please, I need you.” You almost whine and it makes his lips twist into a smirk. Steve smiles wider, and Bucky is mesmerized by the dynamic between you both, watching as he leans his head to your ear.
“You ready for Bucky, darling? He’s much sweeter than me, but he’s also a lot thicker…” Steve’s honey-coated words make you grow wet enough that they both groan at the scent, and Bucky hastily pushes his boxers off. Steve grunts at the sight of him, thick and red with desire, and his hands move to push your legs apart, baring you wide. “Look at this pretty little pussy, Buck. Just waiting for you.”
He runs himself through your soaked folds and the heat and wetness make him groan harshly, “Peach, you sure about this?” He seeks consent one last time, needing to hear you tell him this is what you want because he’s still unsure if this is real. It could all be a dream, and he wouldn’t ever want to wake up.
“I want you, Bucky, I promise.”
You wriggle your hips slightly, and Steve presses soft kisses to your temple, eyes on Bucky as he reaches down and pulls your hips right off of the bed, lining you up between himself and Steve so that you no longer touch the bed. He slides forward slowly, savouring the feel of your tight cunt, his breath punching out ragged.
“Damn it,” He growls, sinking deeper and deeper and your eyes squeeze shut from the bliss of the stretch and he finds himself looking into Steve’s eyes as he bottoms out. You whimper, sweet little noises he has to speak over as he holds his best friend’s gaze. “So fucking tight. Our girl, she’s perfect Steve.” He moans out, and Steve responds with a noise low in his chest.
“She’ll take whatever you want to give, Bucky. Greedy little thing,” He then dips his head to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth into the soft skin, nearly hard enough to draw blood. You cry out and your cunt clenches him, confirming his theory of your enjoyment of pain. It must be a reaction to your powers, which work fast enough to prevent you from feeling any real pain for long enough to have an effect. You enjoy the brief sting that a super soldier can bring out.
Even still, with that knowledge, that protective feeling surges to an almost animalistic level within him and he growls low, glaring at Steve, who grins as he licks the already soothed skin. “See what I mean, Peach? He’s the softer one, he’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
You moan in response and Bucky starts to rut in and out of you, his eyes moving between your face and Steve’s. Your tits bounce with every thrust and you whimper softly, “Bucky—please.” Your hands are gripping his forearms, legs tightly would around his hips as he fucks into you hard.
His voice is tight when he speaks, “She’s mine too, now.”
Steve’s eyes instantly flash with mischief, and he responds to Bucky’s words by leaning down to bite you again. Only, this time, Bucky moves quickly; he grabs Steve by the hair and draws him closer, capturing his lips against his own. Steve nips and he can feel him smiling, then tugs you so that you’re partly folded between them, your back flush against his chest. Shuffling forward, Bucky starts to hit a spot within you that has you crying out in pleasure.
It’s easily the hottest experience of his long life, kissing Steve while fucking you, feeling the way that you both react to him. “Stevie, it’s so good, I can’t, I can’t—” You plead, and he interrupts you before Bucky can grow concerned and cease his relentless pounding.
“Darling, you know you can,” Steve replies, not unkind, “Show Bucky how good you are for us.”
Bucky glares at him, then focuses his attention on you as Steve chuckles warmly, “What do you need, Peach?”
“I don’t…I’m not sure, it’s just so good—Bucky, you’re so perfect,” You’re babbling and he realizes that you’re cock-drunk, which is why Steve is so amused.
He smiles at you and presses his lips to yours, then leans back and starts to hammer himself in and out of you, watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort. Instead, you squeal and your whole body seems to seize and you cum hard, screaming his name. Bucky pants out your name, and he wants to cum too but he holds back, not wanting this to end just yet—he watches you cum and then looks to Steve, who seems to be thinking along the same lines. They wait for you to recover, each pressing kisses to your face and body, and eventually, Bucky lowers you down and carefully pulls out of you.
He watches himself slide free, mesmerized by the way you stretched for him. After a few moments of panting, you recover enough and Steve starts to turn you over. Bucky helps, waiting to see what exactly Steve wanted to do. “Buck,” He practically growls now, and when he has you flipped over, your head moves enough to the side that he can see the erection Steve needs to release. You instantly work to unzip his suit as they stare at one another over your shoulder. “This is her favourite position.”
Steve glances down at you and smiles, his gaze soft with adoration. It doesn’t sting or pull at Bucky anymore; now he feels just as a part of that look and the feeling behind it as you, and his own lips quirk. “Is that true Peach?” He teases, and you throw him a smirk over your shoulder before wiggling your ass for him. He groans and grabs your hips, pulling your body to his and sliding into you, moving slowly to watch the stretch again.
You whimper, “Oh, Bucky, fuck,” And your head drops so that you’re face is on the mattress between Steve’s legs.
The Captain grins wickedly at Bucky, then runs his hands over your hair and, gently, lifts you. It’s then that Bucky realizes you managed to pull Steve’s long cock free and his mouth waters at the sight—instantly, he’s wondering how deep he must be able to fuck you.
“Alright, darling, here’s how this is going to work. Bucky can fuck you as hard as he wants, but you don’t get to cum again until I do,” He lets one hand drop to grip your chin, and Bucky glares, leaning over your body, ready to pull you free. He thinks that Steve is turned on by the way Bucky is ready to protect you, and something about that makes this all feel…balanced.
“Okay Stevie,” You moan and lower your head, your mouth opening to take Steve in as deep as you can. Bucky starts to thrust, slow and steady, keeping his legs pressed to the backs of yours and rotating his hips slightly as he moves. Steve instantly gathers your hair to one side, holding it with one, your head turned just a little so Bucky can see you expertly work your boyfriend’s cock.
“She’s a perfect little cocksucker, Buck. Fuck, you two look good together, did you know that?”
Steve meets Bucky’s eyes and he sees the sincerity there, the affection laced in with the arousal. He watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you’re fucked from behind, and it doesn’t take long for his breathing to become ragged. “Peach, he wasn’t kidding—you’re doing so well, taking my cock and Steve’s.”
You make a noise that gets garbled around the dick stuffed down your throat and both super soldiers groan. He picks up his pace instinctively, murmuring curses under his breath, and feels your walls start to tighten around him. A defiant feeling then raises within Bucky, and he suddenly wants to test Steve by forcing you to cum, but as though reading his mind you begin to work your mouth even harder, small noises and humming bringing Steve closer to the edge.
Bucky becomes hyper-focused on Steve, watching his best friend begin to crumble before his eyes in the best kind of way. His head falls back, but he keeps his eyes moving between Bucky and you, his legs splaying and hips jerking up to meet your mouth. “You’re going to make our Steve cum, Peach. Swallow everything he gives you when he does, okay?” He knows that’s what Steve wants by the way his lower lip draws between his teeth, his free hand fisting the sheets next to him. “He’s almost there, Peach. Do you think he wants to watch me fill you up with my cum as much as I want to watch you swallow his?”
That does it. With a roar, Steve cums, hard, his hips rising off the bed and Bucky sees that practiced way you swallow around him, but at the same time his instincts toward your safety battle to the front—he resists, watching closely and slowing his own movements. Steve’s grip on your hair is too strong, but you only whimper lightly and he manages to hold himself back until Steve’s hips hit the bed again, then Bucky leans down and lifts you, his arms circling your body. He secures his metal arm around your waist and the other across your chest; your body is pressed against his and he has to spread his legs slightly to get a better balance.
“Are you okay, sweet Peach?”
You make a small, choked noise and he leans around you, capturing your eyes. You survey his face and your brows draw up, as though surprised to see just how serious Bucky is. “I’m perfect, Bucky. I can take it, take both of you. I want more, please, I need you to fuck me. Need you to fill me up.”
Steve is grinning as he gazes up at you both, then sits up and shuffles closer, his softening cock still tantalizing and Bucky knows he needs to taste him before long. Next time, if there was one, he would make sure to do so. Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to Bucky’s lips, then to yours. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark “Fuck her, Buck—let me see how hard you can go. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see—how I imagined you.”
Bucky pulses inside of you and before you can do more than moan at the sensation, he’s moving, thrusting hard and quick against you, his arms locked carefully so that you can breathe, but can’t move. He sees your hands shoot out for Steve, gripping his shoulders as you begin an endless moan. Your head presses back into Bucky’s neck. “Oh my god—oh god, Bucky, oh,oh!”
Steve stares at Bucky and you with a burning intensity that radiates love and desire, one hand smoothing over yours, the other resting at Bucky’s hip, where he feels the muscle tense and release as he pounds you. His pace increases and a skin against skin slapping noise fills the room as your moans turn into something wild, animalistic. It’s hot as sin; Steve growls in approval and Bucky drops his mouth to press a kiss into your neck, “Cum for me, Peach. Cum with me, god I want to pump you full—”
You clamp down on Bucky, your spine arching and your heart stuttering in your chest before you let out a scream and cum with your whole body, and Bucky can’t hold back a second longer; his hips punch forward once more, and then he’s cumming deep, moaning your name. His eyes are half-open and Steve’s are comically moving between your face and Bucky’s; soaking in the details with a reverence.
It feels like the longest orgasm of his life, and he drops his head to your shoulder as he groans with the final wave of his peak. He doesn’t pull out when he’s finished, wanting to stay locked within the moment for as long as possible. You sink forward then, your limbs giving out, and Steve catches you, pulls you half onto his body and watches as Bucky follows, moving carefully to remain deep within you as he lays down.
The following minutes are quiet as they lay with you pressed between them, the only sounds that of your heavy breathing; the super-soldiers run their hands over your body and take turns pressing kisses to your lips, Steve turning your head from him to Bucky. He looks at his friend now in a new light and reaches to run his hand through Steve’s hair.
“I’ve always loved you, you know,” He admits, and there’s something about being buried deep within you as he does that makes the moment feel utterly perfect. Steve’s blue eyes meet Bucky’s, “Before everything, when we were just two idiots running around Brooklyn.”
You twist slightly and Bucky’s softening cock slips from you. You sit up between them, staring with hunger in your eyes, “Kiss again.” There’s no doubt it’s a command, though they comply immediately, and he can feel you watching them rapturously as they press their lips together.
When you eventually lean down and join them, each of you taking turns to kiss, it’s more of comfort and love than sexual. They work together to clean up and redress, and then there’s final moments of intimacy, low spoken words of promise to figure it all out as soon as they could before they leave Bucky’s room and make their way outside to join the battle line and wait for the army to arrive.
When the memories of the fight come back to Bucky, he always grows tense with emotion. It’s nearly impossible to think of how hard they all fought, how you ran about healing everyone that you could reach and shooting enemies while Bucky covered you and tried to keep the creatures away from Steve. When Thanos snaps his fingers, he recalls with vivid detail that you’re standing next to him and that he tugs you close, calling out for Steve.
And then he feels odd, almost like he’s floating and glances down to see himself disappearing, and you fading as well, and the last thing he remembers is you both looking up with wide eyes towards Steve—and the horrified expression on his face before there was just…
Nothing.
Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed this first part!
…Bucky doesn’t hesitate to move around the room; Ayo’s eyes follow him the entire time, lit with amusement. “Where did she go?” He demands, his voice low with respect but edged, leaving no room for argument.
Ayo only smiles wider, “You might want to make a visit to your room, White Wolf.”
He gives her a curt nod before hurrying away, his mind running hundreds of scenarios, most of them involving you slapping him for leaving the way he did. Or maybe you wanted to tell him off before the world ended—he wouldn’t blame you.
When he gets to his room, the door is ajar and he steps inside quietly, pushing it shut behind him. You’re standing at his bedside table, a hand tracing over the book he was reading—The Hobbit, an old favorite.
“You don’t need to feel so guilty, Bucky. I knew you were going to leave.”
He stills, surveying you slowly and lifting his brows as he considers the implication behind your words. “You can sense…me, that well?” He knew your powers were strong, yet to have dug in so deep…
You shrug, turning to face him and crossing your arms, “If I really focus, I can pick up on a lot of emotions. But certain people seem…I’m tuned into them better, I guess.”
“AndI’m one of the ones you can tune into…?”
“One of very few that I can to that degree, actually.”
Your gaze falls away and you bite your lip, as if aware that you’ve revealed more than you’d wanted to. Bucky frowns, “Who else can you—?”
“My parents. Steve. You,” A thrill runs down his spine at the admission, and hope flares within. You must feel it, because you smile. “Come on, Bucky Barnes. You must have realized how I felt. Feel.”…
Pairings: Shuri x Bucky Barnes, Shuri x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x Shuri x Steve Rogers
Word Count:~6.8k
Warnings: 18+!!, NSFW, smut, m/m, oral, anal
Additional Tags: Bucky is a brat, he and Steve are both simps (what else is new )
Chapter Summary: It’s almost party time
A/N: It has been… quite a past couple of months for me, and truthfully a rough last couple of weeks. I meant to have this up muuuuch sooner. Please forgive me for the incredibly long wait. Hopefully the *ahem* content makes up for it. Thank you so so SO much for sticking with me. Next chapter is the party for real, I promise lol. Please like, reblog, kudos, comment, share if you enjoy! It means the world to me and you all are amazing
Steve shifts on the couch, stretching his legs out so that his feet rest on Bucky’s thighs. His eyes drop to Bucky’s lap and back up, and he tilts his head. “Don’t talk a big game if you’re not gonna back it up.”
Mouth falling open in surprise, Bucky turns in his seat to face Steve fully. “Now when have I ever done that with you?”
“There’s a first time for everything, right?” Steve is full on grinning now, an enticing shade of red creeping up his neck.
“Don’t mouth off if you can’t handle the consequences.”
Steve lets out a snort. “What makes you think I can’t?”
“Please,” Bucky says with a roll of his eyes. “With the way you caved after our little panty prank? I knew you were gonna sing like a canary the second Shuri put her pussy in your face.”
“Hey! That is… okay that’s fair, but-“
“Exactly.”
“Wait, but youalmost caved, too.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t.”
“Only because she taped your mouth shut.”
“Semantics.”
Steve chuckles. “Whatever. I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He lifts his chin in defiance.
Bucky’s pulse speeds up, and he drops his voice a level. “Are you, now?” He slowly removes Steve’s feet from his lap, then crawls over him until he’s caging him in on his end of the couch. “Don’t act cocky, pretty boy.”
Steve’s nostrils flare as his eyes drop to Bucky’s mouth. “Not an act.”
“That so?”
“Hm.”
Holding Steve’s gaze in challenge, Bucky tilts his head. “You know what I think?”
“What’s that?”
Placing his hands on the armrest behind Steve, Bucky leans in a little more. “I think you’reall talk. I think you’re just a sweet little puppy who thinks he’s too big for his leash.”
The intoxicating, clean scent of Steve’s body wash fills Bucky’s nostrils as he takes a deep inhale. When Steve nips at his lips, Bucky just barely holds in a gasp. Steve’s pupils are dilated, and the mischievous little grin on his face is way too smug.
