A Touch Too Far

A Touch Too Far

Summary: Alpha Steve has had enough of his two omegas playing games with him. Now he’s going to show them who’s really in charge. AKA you learn why its a bad idea to listen to omega Bucky. 

Pairing: Alpha Steve x Omega Reader x Omega Bucky

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Omegaverse dynamics, mean/dom Steve, smut, 18+, edging, overstimulation, bratty omega Bucky. Subby 6'5" Bucky. Steve’s taller 👀.

a/n: Sinday drabble #2

Steve is always eager to come home after a long day of work. While you each have jobs, you’re an upcoming writer and Bucky teaches self-defense to omegas and betas, Steve is the main provider for the household but it’s the two of you that make it a home.

You turned his brownstone into the epitome of warmth and comfort, your nests in the living room and bedroom, something always cooking in the kitchen, music playing throughout the first floor, it’s always a little messy and chaotic and he loves every aspect of it. 

Providing for you two makes the long, tedious hours worth it. it’s not usual for either you or Bucky waiting for him while the other one gets dinner ready. Although last week he had to ban Bucky from answering the door since he doesn’t like to wear clothes inside the house and Steve was tired of him flashing the neighbors. He’s still dealing with the fallout from that, it’s amazing how pouty a 6’5” omega can be.

Steve knew it was getting closer to your upcoming heats but he had one final merger that required his presence and so he reluctantly left the two of you alone in your nest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy on you but he promised he would hurry home. And he pointed out when you both begged him to stay that unlike other omegas at least you had each other. He knows you can use each other to take the edge off until he’s finished work. So neither of you are suffering without him.

But you brats made him suffer all fucking day.

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Hiii :3 could you do Vander x fem!reader where she wears his clothes and they're just.. absolutely pooling off of her. Way too big. The bottom of the legs of the pants are dragging under her feet, the shirt goes down to her thighs, and her chest is showing? And he just stops to admire small girlfriend <3

uhh.. soo.... um.... you didn't say no nsfw and it got kinda.. provocative... thank you for requesting but really, i wish i was sorry...

warnings: minors/ageless blogs do not interact, suggestive, nudity, ahh.. let's just call it smut, i didn't really say breasts for some reason? so it ended up kinda neutral, we'll call it fem!reader to be safe, its fluffy.. sorta

Vander blinks before he’s roaring with laughter, it’s the first time you’ve seen him lose his composure like this and he can’t help the grin on his face when he sees his clothes pooling around you like this.

“New style, love?” He smiles crossing the room to sit on the bed you both share and you shrug idly, not turning to look at him.

He’s no doubt dripping from his shower, but you’re still checking yourself out with the mirror on the wall when you gasp and slap your hands over your eyes after seeing him behind you. You knew he was there, but you didn’t know he was fucking naked.

“Cheeky bastard.” you sneer and it makes him laugh again, only this time, he pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap. It’s then that you decide to look at him even though your face feels like it might pop from how hot it is.

“You’re the one wearing my clothes and they look adorably relaxed-”

“You think?!”

Your flustered tone makes him smile, the laugh he gives is low against your neck making you shiver violently given how his beard scrapes down your neck. The whimper that tumbles from your lips is greeted by a nip to your jaw and you turn, setting your hands on his shoulders as his kisses trail down your neck to the swell of your chest.

“Van-”

He smiles leaning up to peck your lips, helping you out of the pants your wearing the jacket, but he stops you before you can pull off his shirt thats doing to hide your chest from him. It barely stays on your shoulders and yet the way he’s smiling from ear to ear and littering eskimo kisses up your neck is all the convincing you need.

“Keep it on.” He says as you’re turned onto your back.

Your eyes widen comically when his length is onyour abdomen where the shirt has ridden up, he taps the spot where his tip reaches on your stomach.

“I’ll be this deep with my shirt on,” he says. “And you’ll be begging for it off by the time I’m through with you.”

Reader teaching vi how to properly bandage her hands a Vander catches the two of you?

Had that thought while wrapping my own hands and needed to send this in before I forget

you wrap your own hands? that's hot. but teach me so we can be fight club buddies together

mend the broken

vi x reader, vander x reader

warnings: minors/ageless blogs do not interact or you'll be blocked, genderneutral reader, fluff, bits of angst, fluff, mentions of mylo, claggor, and powder, before silco's return, allusions to bullheaded brawler, plantonic kinda fic

You get the bar in the mornings and Vander gets the bar for the night shift. Despite all of his protests, you’ll help sling a few pints here and there during that time. When you’re closing up for him after a long night shift, you do catch the half-hearted scolding that Vander gives the troops after they snuck back in half an hour ago. Even when his eyes are heavy in his head, you really admire how he’s never raised his voice at those little crumbsnatchers you’d brought together with him.

It took awhile for Vi and Powder to accept the little family they were brought into with Claggor and Mylo who’d been brought in almost a week before, but you nor Vander were going to give up on this. The boys caved easily after a few meals and when Powder wasn’t with Vi, she was showing you her latest inventions.

All of them were a little tough to crack. Vander doesn’t say it outright, but the fissures and blatant apathy from the topside make it hard for any trust to get passed around. You both have had your experience with it. Mylo was skeptical of the two of you, even being the first under your wing, Claggor was uneasy, but came much faster than the first boy. Powder had almost caved immediately when she saw the impressive joint workshop that you started many years back and Claggor’s addition that was becoming much more advanced with every passing weekend. Violet, even seeing how much Mylo loved to get ahead of Vander when it was mealtime, was a little standoffish. She relented after a year, but you could see was still struggling.

You watched as she laid on the floor, trying to reach under the bar for the first aid kit, but you knocked on the counter, garnering her attention when you waved the makeshift kit you’d put together a while back after meeting Vander.

She sat in a booth, away from you, hissing and occasionally writhing from where she was tending to what you guessed was a scraped knee.

“You should rinse those scars out first.” You say as you take inventory behind the bar. “Why didn’t you let Mylo take care of those?”

“Because I’m fine.” She hissed at you.

You noticed how Vi had kept to Powder and Vander, hanging out with Claggor and, much to your surprise, scheming with Mylo. But she was always careful around you. Never sitting too close or going on about the schemes she’d pull with their newly formed posse though you never minded. She’d open up when she was ready.

You smiled even now at the bristle she offered. “You know Vander was the opposite of you when we were younger.” She didn’t say anything, but reminiscing about those times was always fun. “Especially when he’d scrape his knee running after me. I mean, he could really book.”

“He can’t do that now.” Vi muttered, but you’d heard it.

You were laughing, it was boisterous and you nearly dropped the glass in your hand; She flinched from how loud you were cackling at her remark, but you couldn’t gauge the look on her face.

“I mean, he did used to do a lot of the running when he started swinging his fists around for a couple bucks.”

Her mouth dropped open and wonder flashed in her grey eyes, but she reined in her awed expression quicker than it’d crossed her face. “Let me clean that up for you and I’ll tell you about how that big bear practically invented hopping rooftops running from enforcers.”

Violet’s eyes fell from yours as she thought it over for no longer than a minute before closing up the first aid kit with a nod and disappearing to go find a little clean water. When she returned, you were sitting on the other side of the bar and playing with bandages while she stood in the doorway of the bar.

“Hey, you ready?”

Vi looked taken back by your smile before coming to sit beside you. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the condition of her hands. You silently extended your hand and she placed it in yours before you examined the faint marks that the bandages left.

“Does everybody wrap their hands like this?” You smile and look up at her. “You did pretty good your first time around.”

You noticed her curious eyes as you picked up some antiseptic and laughed.

“I’m guessing you want to learn what Vander did to make enforcers chase him, not how to tend a wound.”

“Was he cool?” She asked.

You shrugged. “He had almost all of the lanes wrapped around his finger, so I guess you could say that. I thought he was a know-it-all.”

That earned the teeniest of smiles out of Violet who seemed to want to know more about Vander’s younger years.

“He used to fight a lot and he lost like one out of yen each time and would come whining to me about it, but he’d never treat his own wounds after we met.”

“Vander?” Vi asked.

“Yeah.” You smirked. “He even went to brawl under the bridge near Piltover. He always lost over there, but he liked the crowd I think.”

“Did you ever go watch him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Vi’s quizzical brow raise looked too much like Vander’s, but you opted for leaving that little memento for you to think about later.

“To be perfectly honest, I thought the fights were really barbaric. Back then they’d have some shifty looking fighting rings and sometimes fixed fights would get out of hand, so I avoided going. But then the bighead in there started brawling too much and I had to make him take it easy. So we made a deal and I started going.”

Vi shifted in her chair, leaning on the bar counter while you rubbed some antiseptic on her knuckles. “Did you like going to watch him after?”

“Eh,” you thought for a moment and then gave a nod. “You know what? Yeah. I think I enjoyed myself the more and more I saw him. He was really good and he became such a show off the more he fought so it was fun to watch him goof off.”

You let go of Vi’s hand, standing up and motioning for her to help you out.

“He’d do this thing where-”

Vi watched in awe, splurging about fighting moves and asking what he liked to use most while you showed her a few of Vander’s showboating moves that had Vi comparing his moves to fights she’d seen recently.

Seeing her so open, even more than you’d seen her with Mylo or Vander, made your chest warm from seeing this side of her.

“But my favorite move of his was the one where he’d grab the wrist and yank so the knee connects with the stomach. It’s a devastating move, but it closed out his round easily and broke records so it’s my favorite.” You say, sitting down as Vi showed you a couple of her own moves. “He’d help you if you asked him.”

She scoffed and you watched her close up again. Sitting beside you and staring at the empty pool table. “I don’t want to hear another lecture about how fighting is wrong.”

“Oh please, I know that brawler in him is itching to pass on the legacy. He doesn’t want you getting hurt like this is all.” You twirl a bandage around your finger. “I’ll show you how to wrap them and I’ll help you practice a little.”

Her head whipped to you. “But won’t we get in trouble?”

You smirk and tap her jaw with your face. “He’s not going to stop you from doing what you love, Vi.”

You wrap one of her hands, explaining every step and how it should feel on your hand for every wrap she makes and watch as she reiterates some of it back with a little correction from you.

“We going to war now?” You hear Vander quip from the doorway and Vi doesn’t turn to look at him as she looks at her hands.

You turn your attention to him and he’s intrigued by the scene laid out before him. “I was telling Vi that you were lousy at taking care of your own bruises.”

He scoffs, displeased with you bringing up that forgotten skill set of his, “That’s what you were for.”

You flick his jaw and he’s motioning to Vi’s left hand, “Looks like you’ve gotten rusty, too.”

Vi flashed him a proud smile, it’s rare, but you can tell that she’s just knocked Vander flat with that smile of hers. “I wrapped that hand.”

“And she’s better at it than you were.” You tease and Vander rolls his eyes. “But from what I can tell, her guard is like yours when you first started.”

“My guard was great,” he gaped at you. You snickered and shook your head.

“Neither of you know how to guard your faces and you were practically a punching bag.” You start packing away the first aid kit and a sly smile comes on your face. “But I told Vi about those opening moves of yours.”

He smiles and you see the tips of his ears turn a bit red. “They were so dated.”

“But that’s what made them cool.” Vi piped up.

You both looked at Vi who was starry eyed and swinging her fists in the moves that only Vander could’ve mastered.

He looked completely moved. The hand over his mouth that was there to make him look like he was thinking was in actuality to keep him from looking like an emotional, speechless mess. But you saw right through it.

“You know,” You slid him the first aid kit. “Vi’s not interested in beating people’s brains out.”

Vander watched you and Vi set her hands on the counter, effectively getting his attention back on her, “Can you teach me some of those moves?”

Vander raised his brow and crossed his arms, “Who taught you to be so straightforward?”

“That’s how you are.” You call from where you’re wiping down the booth that Vi was at.

You watch Vander sigh and shrug, “If you keep wrapping your hands then-”

“Yes!” Vi was pumping her fists in the air before he could even finish his sentence.

You give her a smile and toss the rag you have at Vander, covering his face and making you laugh at the glare he’s sending you. “It’s about time.”

“We’re waiting till your hands heal up a bit.” He makes a gesture to his knuckles and she nods, “Go rest up. It’s late already.”

Before Vi gets far, she stops and hugs your waist. It’s brief and she sends you a tiny smile and a quiet thanks before she’s leaving you and Vander to tend the empty bar.

“Don’t think I didn’t get that.” He leans on the counter, “Teaching my moves to that nibbler.”

You shrug and wrap your arms around him, “She reminds me of you.”

He sighs and picks you up so you’re level with him, but more importantly, so he can bury his face in your neck. “That was a low blow.”

You ran your hand through his damp hair, “It got me what I wanted.”

He raises a brow and it’s now that you can appreciate just how much he’s rubbed off on every one of those kids. Vi being the most like him is incredible and the way all of them follow him around like little ducklings is almost too much for you to handle sometimes.

“Hey,” Powder pokes her head in the room. “Mylo told me to tell you it’s leaky in our room so we can sleep in your bed tonight.”

“Powder!” You hear the boy snip before yanking her out of the doorway.

Vander is laughing and you’re smiling, wrapping your arms around his neck as he plants a few kisses on your cheek. “When are they going to stop sleeping with us?”

You plant a tender kiss on his lips. It’s for the smiles you share with each other, the little schemes you pull with the newly formed family you have in favor of annoying Vander a little (he loves the distraction with all his heart), and the moments you all have in this little corner of the fissures.

“When you learn how to take care of your own cuts.”

He groans and you’re laughing, pressing a kiss and going to go join the waiting dogpile in your shared bedroom.

“I get the left side, Claggor!” He calls up the stairs as he shuts the bar lights out and moonlight filters through the windows.

Dogpiled in bed with your family in the late autumn months in the fissures with Vander and Claggor bickering over who gets the leftside, Mylo and Powder who snip at each other for kicking each other in their sleep, and Vi who is quiet as a mouse from where she’s comfortably nestled into your back. Nothing comes close to being as great as this home you’d helped to build.

just finished my mid-term exam and YOU make me cry reading this 😭😭

after all these years.

silence lingers, the kind that could only live between two people who have known each other so intimately.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: soft angst, exes to maybe-lovers. ambiguous ending

writer’s note: the lovely hera {@doll1917} was the first person to send me a prompt for bucky’s birthday, so thank you angel! <3 as always, i’m late but writer’s block has been winning most days. hopefully this isn’t too terrible x

For one fleeting moment, he thinks he’s fallen from the edge.

The sound of your soft, wistful voice is reminiscent of what he assumes to be the euphony of a self-imposed haven. It controls him — so much power you wield, yet remain unaware. How one word has him forgetting the bottle beside him, eyes transfixed on your presence as you move closer.

“You never did like parties.”

Smiling, gentle and kind, the heel of your shoes reverberates the metal; climbing the balcony before your legs hang over.

New York never stops — the infamous city that never sleeps. But Bucky’s tired; his gaze unwavering as he stares, too scared to blink in case you’d disappear like the shouting taxi drivers below.

“You’re here,” he breathes; letting go of the strain in his neck as his shoulders drop.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” It’s simple. Too casual, and yet, too acquainting.

Bucky’s fingers twitch, itching for the alcohol that’ll burn his throat — maybe it’ll convince him that you’re actually here.

A vulnerable emotion, all too familiar, flickers across your features; eyebrow tense as you pick at the fabric of your shirt. There’s a chill in the air as the season continues to transition, and he watches as goosebumps raise along your exposed skin.

“Here,” his voice is light; devoid of the harsh bite you’d become accustomed to. “Take this.”

Warmth envelops you, the wool of his jacket a comfort as it wraps around your body. The musk of his cologne placates you; bergamot and orange filling your lungs like an oxygen tank — clear and strong as it settles your frayed nerves.

“I have something for you,” you pause. “Well, found something, really.”

As your hands fiddle with a jean pocket, his eyes widen at the appearance of an emerald green box. There’s an overwhelming pounding in his ears; heartbeat racing as he’s confronted.

The implication is heavy in the way your eyes glaze over sadly, holding it toward him as you silently beg for him to take it from you.

He does.

“It didn’t feel right keeping it,” you swallow. “I hadn’t even realise you’d left it.”

Inside, is a silver band; a delicate floral filigree that leads to an understated sapphire — his Mother’s wedding ring.

Bucky knew he hadn’t taken it the night he ended your relationship; convincing himself it was an incentive for a life the two of you could have. If he could get better — be better — because if he did that, then he could return; get down on one knee with the promise of forever.

A pit lodges itself in his stomach, the guilt a calamity as he gazes at you; full of understanding, even as it tries to mask the hurt. “You could’ve,” he murmurs. “I’d have come back for it someday.”

“I know.” The smile you give is rueful; an infinite amount of hidden meanings behind it as you choose your next words carefully. “But I wouldn’t have been there when you did.”

Only, Bucky can’t accept them as they tumble from your mouth, like they upset him more than they ever could you. “What are you saying?”

“I’m moving,” you say; irises suddenly unable to meet his. “To London.”

He swears. “You’re leaving?” And though you nod, he still shakes his head. “Why?”

“Because there’s nothing left for me here.”

Another pause. He’s selfish; palms begging to pull you close, to not make the mistake of letting you go again. “But you love Brooklyn.”

The tilt of your mouth is pensive, a secret on the tip of your tongue waiting to be spilled. “Bucky,” you hesitate. “You were Brooklyn.”

Those three words shatter something inside of him, the last piece of his horribly bandaged heart as it fractures on the floor of his rib cage.

Regret isn’t unknown to him — it’s a sealing wax on his emotions, one that stays no matter how much he tries to burn it away. It seeps into every line and crevice, taking up residency even as he tries to evict it.

Steve had once told him that the things the Winter Soldier had done wasn’t him — wasn’t Bucky — and yet, he held onto the remorse for years to come.

Eventually, he would begin to agree, rationalise and understand. Which was why the guilt came tenfold when he looked at you. Because that had been his decision, one of clear mind as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek with a murmured goodbye.

“You’re overthinking.” Your hand is warm, affectionate as it touches his thigh and pulls him back from the abyss his mind provides. “Can practically hear those thoughts churning.”

“Do you think you’ll ever come back?” He asks, bright cerulean glimmering at you with tender yearning.

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” You’ve always been honest, almost to a fault. It was one of the reasons that attracted Bucky to you — your tenacity, your wit. The way you were unwilling to compromise when it came to your heart.

It reminded him of someone he once knew.

He knows it must be written across his face, the question — will you stay? If he asked, would you? But he knows the answer from the way you bite your lip, brows furrowed; a line appearing between them.

Before he can stop himself, his hand brushes along your cheekbone; tracing your nose as his thumb erases the worry. The slight movement of a shiver isn’t lost on him, and Bucky presses closer to you; knees bumping as the faintest scent of whiskey greets you.

“What if I came with you?”

It’s a scenario you’ve thought of a thousand times. A wonder you weren’t sure you were allowed to have. The past months have been blurry — days blending together, dates being non-existent.

Life without Bucky had been an unexpected adjustment. Your one constant had suddenly disappeared almost without notice, and you spent the last thought of each night, with the hope that the next morning he’d be at your door.

Except that day had never come. And you relented. Giving up that wayward dream until you’d woken up to a message from Sam — an invitation, your only attempt to offer your own goodbye.

But those cerulean blues have you damned. You’d already accept the lifetime rate — what’s an eternity?

“I couldn’t ask you to give this up, Buck.” You’re shaking your head, unable to meet his stare.

As long as you’d known him — too many years to be exact — the fight was always priority. The need to show himself worthy, to wipe the red in his ledger.

“So don’t,” he reasons; calloused hands resting against your jaw. “Let me prove myself, let me make up for all the time we’ve lost.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you hate the way his voice breaks; emotions unfiltered as his forehead rests against yours. It’s tender, familiar. Calms your rapid breathing as you ground yourself to the moment.

“I’m scared.” 

Fuck, he knows it. Feels it too. But you’d unknowingly opened the possibility of a second chance, and he wasn’t fucking that up.

“Me too,” he assures you, letting you know that he wasn’t pretending it’d be easy. “I thought when I left that I was doing right by you, god, you deserved better. Still do.”

You pull away from him, not looking away as you reach your hands to hold his; intertwining them as you speak, “No one can decide what’s meant for another person. If it did, then I’d have walked away earlier than you.” The disbelieving frown he gives makes you chuckle. “Buck, you’re one of the best people I know. You’re so good, so fucking good that it makes my heart ache that you don’t see it. Most of our relationship was spent with me anxious of the thought that I would never be enough for you.”

“You are,” he interjects; squeezing your fingers in kind. From the warmth that fills his cheeks, he knows he’s flushing pink; waiting as your head tilts slightly at the way his teeth knock together from how quickly he gives you the declaration.

A small smile appears, one that he returns as you agree, “Just like you are, for me.” The sincerity in your tone nearly catches him off-guard, if it wasn’t for the fact he had sounded the same.

Silence lingers, the kind that could only live between two people who have known each other so intimately. The type that sends a pulse through his chest as the illuminating lanterns reflect in your knowing eyes.

“Happy birthday, Bucky.”

His thumb soothes the back of your hand, an alleviating sense of peace lulling his movements as you lean against his side. “Here’s to many more.”

The together goes unheard.

end note: i’m a little rusty considering it’s been a while since i last wrote but hopefully this was okayish lol. thank you so much for reading <3

masterlist ✧ ko-fi ✧ library

Shower Me in Praise

Summary: Bucky knows what you need after a long week without him.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral fem rec, size kink, praise kink, Bucky is 6'4"

A/n: requested.

Rivulets of hot water rain down on your back, a thick mist clouding the glass surrounding the shower. This is what you needed after a busy day, the heat soothes your aching muscles. Resting your head on the cool shower wall, your arms dangle by your sides and you relax for the first time in days.

It’s been such an exhausting day and you’ve been looking forward to finally getting to spend time at home. Just you and Bucky. The couch, an old worn knitted blanket, and whatever movie is on tonight. Wine, cheap, greasy takeout, and passionate sex on the living room rug before the credits have a chance to roll across the screen.

But first, you need to let the stress of the real world fade away. You’re nearly done with your shower when you hear the soft click of the door opening.

“Hey Bunny.” Your head cants back at the sound of his raspy deep voice, your body instinctively responding to him. Glancing over your shoulder, the water pours down your face as you watch him through the foggy glass. “Missed you.” The longing in his tone makes your chest tighten. You’ve missed him too, more than words can express.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you respond with a smile, turning around to get a better look at him. He’s handsome, a shadow of a beard forming on his sharp jaw, his pink bottom lip caught between his teeth as he eyes you through the glass. Bucky leans against the sink, tapping his fingers on the surface. 

Keep reading

this could be my motivation to drink my water

This is adorable and screams Baker!Bucky vibes 😍

Bucky has several creative ways to get you to drink water.

Pairing: Chubby Baker!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 800

Warnings: Oral, praise kink, slight d/s vibes. No minors.

A/N: Written on my phone.

“You’re gonna drink the water, Peach,” he states, alluring blue eyes daring you to disagree. “Or else,” he firmly tacks on after you don’t grab the glass of water he’s holding in front of you.

You glance at the frosted glass with pure disdain before you tilt your head back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Or else what Barnes?” You ask, raising your brows.

Bucky doesn’t answer, maintaining his stoic expression. You think it’s because he’s waiting for you to break, but he really wasn’t prepared for you to call his bluff and now he’s scrambling to figure out what the “ or else” in his warning is.

You both know you really need to drink the water. And as much as you hate to admit it, the delicious iced coffee he has hidden away doesn’t count. Even though the first ingredient is water and it has ice which is-you cut yourself off because Bucky still doesn’t believe that particular fact no matter how many times you bring it up. So here you are. In a stalemate. Your treasured, cherished, beautiful coffee is being held captive and the ransom that he wants you to pay for its safe return is unimaginable.

Bucky laughs when you tell him that. A deep laugh spilling from his pink lips making his belly shake and causing the water to slosh over the sides of the glass and splatter over his hand and arm. “No, it’s not.”

You scrunch your nose, sighing. “It kinda is.”

He shifts the cup to his other hand and wipes the spilled water off on his shirt. Bucky sits beside you, the bed dips under his weight and you slide to him, your bare thigh pressing into his warm skin. “No, it’s not. But if you don’t drink this, I’m not going to eat you later.” He says, bending down for a kiss.

Your eyes go comically wide and you splutter out a shocked what as his lips move over yours. The kiss is all Bucky. Sweet and passionate and heart-stopping. The taste of smooth caramel and something that’s uniquely him melts on your tongue and you moan. This is better than your morning coffee and ten times as addicting. Oh, you want more and you’ll know he’ll give it to you. Leaning into him, he brings his hand behind your neck, keeping you still so he can deepen the kiss until you’re lightheaded.

Bucky breaks away after a few long moments. “If you finish this cup,-“ he murmurs, his mouth hovering over yours so you can feel his words. “- I’ll make your favorite coffee from scratch, the one you love so much and I’ll do the thing with my tongue while you drink it.”

Oh.

Bucky gazes into your eyes and a smirk pulls at his swollen lips when it becomes apparent that you’re remembering the thing.

He should have started with that.

In fact, he should start everything with that because you’ll do anything he wants in return.

Bucky chuckles when you snatch the cup out of his hand. You chug it down, the cold liquid soothes your parched throat while he rubs your back. “Good girl.”

Setting the glass down on the nightstand, you wipe your mouth off with your forearm. “Done. Now I want what you promised.” You state poking him in his soft belly. “And I want it now.”

“You didn’t even say good morning to me yet,” he laughs.

Bucky watches you scramble out of the bed, nearly tripping over the sheets tangled around your foot. “Cmon Bucky. Let’s go” You yell over your shoulder, sprinting to the kitchen.

Bucky stands up, stretching his arms over his head. He picks up the glass and follows you, his smile widening. “That’s my Peach.”

Bucky hums in agreement-muttering you have no idea Peach as he lays another deep kiss on your pussy before pulling your aching clit into his mouth. He’s going to make sure you have a good morning, a great afternoon, and an even better night. After you have some more water. Of course, he’s willing to do whatever you need to make sure you drink every last drop—over and over again.

Moments later, he’s kneeling between your thighs, his tongue swirling around your clit while you sip on your homemade coffee. “Good morning Bucky,” you moan shamelessly, grinding on his face. “Ohfuckfuck- oh it’s so good.”

You look like a queen with your legs draped over the side of the dining room chair, coffee isln your hand. This is how he always wants you; what you deserve.