Tag: Stucky

Eventually, the news of you “cheating” gets back to the administration, and you have to set the record straight with the students. That is why you now have a part in your syllabus that says “Yes, I am with both Professor Barnes and Professor Rogers and they both know this so if you try to say I’m cheating on one of them you would be wrong.” Steve always responds to questions about it with a diplomatic “My personal matter are none of your concern.” and Bucky says “Please get out of my threesome.”

v-writings:

I’M FUCKING SCREAMING BUCKY

Flowers

sweetboybucky:

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Death by fluff. Seriously.

Summary: A nice day outside with his two favorite people makes Bucky think. 

A/N: Hi, everyone! Stucky is back! Honestly, this is all thanks to @barnesrogersvstheworld and @evanstar for nearly killing me with their beautiful Stucky pieces. (I told you it was coming soon, Attie, so here you go.) 

This one is completely self-indulgent and it’s quite possibly the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written. I just really think that sweet little Bucket Barnes has a thing for flowers. Enjoy! 

P.S. Thank you all again for 1k followers. That number is insane and I can’t believe so many people have decided to follow this Soft™ boy blog. A celebration for that is coming, so keep an eye out for that!

Read more from me here!

Bucky wakes slow and easy, the scent of pine and lavender surrounding him.

Sheets slide along his bare chest, soft against him as he shifts. They press lines into his skin while the pillow does the same to his face.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to keep out the invading sunlight that’s streaming through the window attempting to rouse him from his – thankfully – peaceful sleep.

Arms stretch, metal and flesh alike, from where they were tucked under his pillow. Reach to either side of the bed. Skim across the expanse of the large mattress and keep searching until he realizes the two bodies he expected to find aren’t there.

That makes him open his eyes, steel blue blinking against the light falling onto his body. He turns. Sits up and rubs his face. Runs a hand through messy dark hair and searches the room.

He’s struck once again with how pretty your bedroom, with its soft lounge chair in the corner and pressed flowers resting in a frame over your dresser.

But he doesn’t find you or Steve, the two most beautiful things he’s ever seen. So he thinks ogling your bedroom can wait until he can do it in bed with the two of you.

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