#askhcs

Slutty virgin Steve:

Has been in love with Bucky Barnes since 1934, but was always to afraid to act on it/say anything re: Bucky is a ladies man and homosexuality was very much a crime.

Wakes up in the twenty-first century and is still Very Gay, but he doesn’t /do/ anything about it because 1) he has conditioned himself to be quiet and private about his preferences and 2) to him, Bucky died, like, three days ago.

Jerks off to thoughts of being smol again and Bucky pinning him down and fucking his mouth. Is very sad afterwards.

OOP BUCKY’S ALIVE 

Bucky’s alive and he comes home and he spends some time recovering in the apartment he shares with Steve now, etc etc, anyways.

Bucky is alive and Bucky is... a Grade A Beefcake. Steve’s sad jerking off becomes guilty jerking off, but it’s more than that, because now Bucky is constantly around and he’s wearing sweatpants that ride too low on his hips and Bucky likes wifebeater tanks and Steve’s horny level has been turned up to eleven (11).

Steve is only sneaky and quiet when he’s on the battlefield.

Steve is neither sneaky nor quiet when he is experimenting with fingerfucking himself in the shower.

Bucky is a good listener—especially when people are actively saying his name out loud. 

(Steve showers, and Bucky listens.)

(Bucky also finds a new, unfamiliar razor in said shower. A smattering of little black dark blond curlies clings to it. Bucky thinks about Steve shaving himself smooth and testing the new grounds with the tips of his own fingers and biting his lips until they’re as red as his cheeks and Bucky fucks his own fist and paints the shower wall.)

Steve shops online for dildos on his tablet, but he can never bring himself to check out his shopping cart, too much internalized shame, too scared someone will find out.

Steve has considered exploring phallic objects that do not come from adam and eve dot com, but 1) zucchinis do not have a flared base, and Steve thinks safety is Very Important and would literally have to off himself if Bucky had to drive him to the ER because he got a squash stuck in his rectum, and 2) Steve grew up in the Depression. Steve does not waste food.

So Steve shameshops for dildos online, buys zero (0) dildos.

Steve is bad at browser security. 

Steve and Bucky share a tablet.

Bucky checks out the shopping cart.

A package arrives one day from a nondescript sender, and it is addressed to Steve’s attention. Bucky picks it up and takes it into the kitchen.

“Package for you, Stevie.”

“Oh? Okay, um. Don’t remember ordering anything...”

“Open it then. Find out.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.”

(Bucky files it away in his mind to scold Steve later—ten spanks should do it—for being an idiot who opens strange packages just because big, beefy soldiers hand them to him)

“Whatcha got there, Stevie?”

“It’s... um... I don’t think they had the right—”

“Show me.”

“... No.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s not mine.”

“What’s not yours?”

“This. All of it. I think someone played a prank on me.”

“Just show me, Steve.”

“I. I don’t want to.”

“Are you really saying that everything in that box—whatever it is—is totally unfamiliar to you? You’ve never seen it before?”

“...Yes.”

“...”

“That is what I am saying.”

“...”

“...”

“Steve?”

“... Yeah, Buck?”

“Do you want to take me up to your bedroom and show off what the mailman brought you?”

***

(It’s dildos.)

(The mailman brought dildos.)

Oh gosh Nonnie, I just. I just have some thoughts and emotions.

The very first time, Bucky comes to Steve with an electric shaver in his hands. He is quiet at first—doesn’t say anything—but when he brings a hand up and gently touches his own hair, Steve's eyes soften.

Steve understands. He doesn’t question Bucky, or ask Bucky if he’s sure.

Steve has him sit down on a kitchen stool. The the first dark locks of hair falling onto the tile floor in front of Bucky feel like absolution. 

It’s slow work to begin with—Steve is always so careful with him—but when it’s done and Steve sets down the shaver and the buzzing sound is gone from the room, Steve raises a hand and carefully runs his fingers through Bucky’s newly shorn hair.

Bucky tenses. Steve is used to Bucky clamming up around new things, but together they’ve learned that it doesn’t mean the new things are bad. Right now, the new thing is closeness—Steve’s skin on his scalp, touching a vulnerable part of Bucky, scratching lightly with his short fingernails and petting over the scant length of hair he’s got left.

Steve doesn’t stop. He continues until Bucky relaxes, and still he keeps going. Steve talks to him:

“I read somewhere that human hair can grow about a half inch a month. Did you know that?” He doesn’t expect an answer from Bucky as he continues playing with his new cut, both hands now. “Looks like we left less than an inch here. And you’ve been back with me for three months.”

Bucky lets his eyes fall shut. He breathes out a full chest of breath, taking in the sensation of this new intimacy and the heavy purpose behind Steve’s words. 

“That means all this hair is new, Buck. All ‘a this is yours. You grew this here, since you’ve been safe with me.”

And Bucky... Bucky doesn’t have a response to that. Steve doesn’t need one. Steve makes circles with his fingertips on the base of Bucky’s neck. Steve plays with his safe hair.

Before Steve goes to get the broom and sweep up what’s been cut away, he leans down and presses a dry kiss to Bucky’s temple. Bucky can feel him smiling.

“You look real handsome, Buck.”

***

...No—nobody look at me

Buckys brain* boobs! cleavage! Ass! Boobs! Thighs! Cleavage! CLEAVAGE! BELLYBUTTON!!!

I sniffed the bait at “boobs/cleavage/ass/thighs,” but Nonnie, you fuckin’ hooked me on “bellybutton.”

Bucky is honestly a terrible partner when it comes to the house chores, but lucky for him, Steve tends to resort to obsessive cleaning to let out his stress. Bucky is a little shit though, so not only does he not help, but he likes to plant himself on the couch and prop his feet up and unabashedly ogle Steve’s body as he goes about his tasks:

Steve always wears one of those stupid too-small tshirts and his rattiest pair of sweatpants whenever he goes on a cleaning spree. Bucky loves the way the elastic in his waistband has become so stretched and loose over time that the pants end up hanging indecently low on Steve’s narrow hips, so low that they’re practically held up by nothing but the fat, gorgeous swell of Steve’s ass

Steve reaching up high to scrub the kitchen cabinets, the little circlular motions it makes with his arm (thick bicep flexing with those defined, masculine lines) pushing his tits together, then up and apart, then back together, up and apart...

“Missed a spot, sweetheart—no no, higher up—‘cause I can see from over here, okay?—yeah, there ya go... gonna have to scrub it harder... got it, Stevie. That’s just perfect.”

Steve standing on a cute little stool to clean the dust off the ceiling fan in the living room (right in front of Bucky’s perch on the couch), and the bottom of his shirt riding up to expose those marble-carved abs, that thin little line of coarse, sandy hair... which trails up to Steve’s sweet little bellybutton, and fuck... Bucky wants to tickle it with his tongue

Steve wiping down the baseboards, literally crawling on his hands and knees across the carpet to get the job done right, pretty pink tongue peeking out between his teeth, forehead scrunched up in determination to get every little bit of Alpine’s hair

Steve being basically clueless to Bucky’s hungry staring, working too hard to notice ‘cause he’s gotta pick up Bucky’s slack around the house

... but Bucky being the one to take care of the cleanup when Steve lays flushed and sweaty and breathless on their bed later, mile-long legs sprawled over the mattress, a mix of both their releases pooling in his sweet little bellybutton

Oh I like this question a lot. Let’s see...

I’ve been in mood for canon-verse Steve and Bucky lately, perhaps post-Endgame retirement to a little countryside home (aka, the Endgame we deserved)? Perhaps we should talk about Service Top Steve and Happy Slut Bucky [x]? Also-- gotta dedicate this head canon to @hoeforthegays​ as a late birthday present. Happy belated birthday Jake!

Rule #1: Happy slut Bucky gets dick wherever, whenever Bucky wants it. Steve is helpless not to give it to him. And since Steve’s kink is basically giving Bucky what he wants, it turns him on even more when Bucky picks strange places to demand Steve’s cock. Bucky likes to get it...

Up against the wall, any wall. Bucky gets riled up when his husband uses his strength to hold Bucky and all of his bulk up, and he really likes watching Steve work through a challenge at the same time as he’s working his cock through Bucky’s ass. Bucky loves the little drops of sweat that bead on Steve’s forehead when he’s trying to arrange all of their limbs in the right place while also trying to fuck over Bucky’s sweet spot, and Bucky can just tilt his head back against the wall and moan encouragements and relax while he waits for his orgasm to be handed to him — “Mmm, yeah... doin’ me so good, sweetie, lookit ‘chu, my big strong man giving me what I need... my ass feel tight enough on your cock?”

Yes, Nonnie, definitely in the kitchen. Between the two of them, Steve cooks most of their meals (he’s a good little service top), so he spends a lot of time in that room. Bucky gets a kick out of interrupting Steve while he’s jarring a big batch of his homemade marinara (made from the basil and tomatoes Bucky grew in his garden, of course) by walking in ass-naked and sitting himself down on the breakfast table, spreading his legs, sticking his lower lip out in a pout — “I’m boreeddd, Stevie... fingerbang me?” — and Steve would be kneeling in front of that table so fast that the ladle clatters to the floor and sauce splatters everywhere.

One of Bucky’s favorite ways to play with Steve is to strip down and barge in on Steve in the shower. He doesn’t even have to ask or tell Steve what to do or what he wants when he gets in; Steve will drop whatever he’s doing — maybe he’s halfway through cleaning up his neck scruff in the shower mirror — and he’ll soap up Bucky’s loofa. He grabs all of Bucky’s favorite strawberry bath products (Steve buys them for Bucky in a little boutique in town) and he’ll shampoo Bucky’s hair and condition it and he’ll even rub in-shower lotion onto Bucky’s skin to make it soft. Bucky’s a little shit, so he likes to lazily jerk on Steve’s cock while Steve is working, even though he knows Steve won’t let himself come until Bucky’s had his. When Steve is done washing him, he’ll sink to his knees behind Bucky and he’ll spread his cheeks and tongue his ass until it’s sloppy and loose. He’ll slip a finger or two in to massage Bucky’s prostate, and Bucky will lean his head on his forearms against the shower the whole time Steve’s at it, sighing happily when Steve moves a hand around his hip to jerk Bucky’s cock while he sucks on his rim.

Related: Bucky also asks Steve for dick when they take baths together. He likes to kneel up in the tub and lean his chest against the side of it while Steve lubes up and fucks him from behind. Bucky’s favorite part is the way that Steve gets so frantic that he slips and slides all over the place, unable to get a grip with the slippery surface and all of that soap, and it’s so adorably clumsy. The water sloshes between their bodies every time Steve fucks his cock in — “messy boy, Stevie, splashin’ everywhere” — and Bucky knows he’s going to enjoy sitting on the bathroom counter later, staring at Steve’s ass while he’s bent over naked and toweling up the wet mess all across the tile floor.

So they’ve got this little old pickup truck, and sometimes when they go into town for errands, Bucky will coyly tell Steve to park it in the back of a definitely-not-empty-enough parking lot. Steve’s face heats up immediately, because he knows what Bucky wants — one of Bucky’s favorite games —  which is to lean over and swallow Steve’s dick when they’re obviously halfway in public. Bucky’s not even in it for his own orgasm; he just wants to see Steve blush and squirm and bend his comfort zone while Bucky tells him to “keep those hands on the wheel, sweetheart, 10-and-2,” and “it’s a small town, honey, don’t be rude... better smile and wave at the nice folks comin’ out of the store or they won’t think us friendly,” and “good boy, be still,” and dear god does Steve get pink and splotchy all over before coming hard down Bucky’s throat.

(This has been in my inbox for a while because I was waiting for a true Steve’s Tits Day™ to come upon me, and now it has.)

I love Steve’s tits in all universes— but not nearly as much as Bucky does. They’re full and hot and hard and sweet, and oh goodness gracious are those two little dime-sized nipples a pretty puff of pink. But yes, let’s take a brief moment to revisit the Take You With Me A/B/O ‘verse and fast-forward to omega Stevie’s big boy tits after his alpha finally does breed him up good. It’s gonna be hard for me and Bucky to keep our eyes above that pretty, swelling nectarine of a tummy. But we can do it ;)

I don’t think they get big and super jiggly or anything, they’re still super-soldier masculine, taut and hard (okay maybe a little bit’a jiggle)... but they are swollen, strained almost, like a water balloon that was full already but now someone has put just a tiny bit more in. Juicy. They’re a little sore to the touch when Bucky cups them in his hands, and it makes Steve’s bottom lip jut out prettily with a tremble and a sweet pout when he presses on them lightly with his thumbs. He doesn’t do it to make Steve hurt and it doesn’t hurt per se, not really, Bucky just can’t help it. His pretty baby’s tits are just so much more sensitive now than they used to be (and they were already sensitive before, sweet thing), and he’s not a strong enough man to keep his hands off when they’re lookin’ like such pretty handfuls of apricot and pink.

Bucky is definitely the kind of alpha who can’t keep his dick out of his sweetheart when he’s walking around all big with his kid, and ohh-- do those two puffy little buds on Steve’s chest get a wealth of Bucky’s attention. The cotton candy shade of pink he once knew Steve’s nipples to be before Bucky bred him full is darkening with hormones now, delicate tissue growing harder and more sensitive, the buds themselves growing bigger in diameter and more fun to flick with his fingers and tongue. He knows that not all omegas would like having their chest played with along the fringes of pain, especially not while pregnant-- but he also knows what his omega likes. He knows that Steve likes for his alpha to lick and suck on his pretty tits until his eyes get weepy, until the barrage of sensations coming from his spit-wet nipples becomes so intense that it helps push him over the edge and makes his dick leak up against the heavy underside of his tummy. Forget ‘like’; Steve lives for it.

[Psst I went back and read my own stuff (sometimes you gotta do that, okay?) and realized that I’ve said many times in asks that FarmBaby Bucky is a 5′6″ twink. But before I ever said that, in part iv.b I said that Steve is four inches taller than him. But since Farmer Steve is canon post-serum Steve and is therefore 6′2″, that means that Steve should actually be eight inches taller than Bucky. I went back and revised part iv.b lol.]

Farmer Daddy Steve and FarmBaby Bucky are my personal ode to size difference kink. Steve has eight inches and at least 60 pounds of muscle on Bucky and Bucky loves it. Steve loves it, too; he’s never been with someone that much smaller than him, never had the chance to really manhandle a lover, and I think it hits on a latent desire of his that goes all the way back to when he was a larger-than-life little spitfire in the 40s. And combined with Steve’s super soldier strength... oof.

Fluff and smut, you say?

Steve carrying Bucky around like a rag doll just to mess with him, to hear him laugh. They’ll be finishing up with the chickens, Bucky dusting off of his hands and looking proud of his job well-done, Steve will grab the 50-lb bag of feed in one hand and while sweeping Bucky clear off the ground with the other, arm wrapping around Bucky’s waist and hoisting him up easily, making him fit perfectly on Steve’s hip, delighting in Bucky’s laughter and squeals of protest as Steve hauls everything he needs back on up to the shed.

Bucky having to strain his neck upward and get on his tippy toes for kisses and it’s still not enough, Steve still has to lean down

Bucky walking around in Steve’s huge flannel shirts (some denim button-ups, too), the bottom hem hanging around his knees, Steve’s brain short-circuiting every time because 1) he knows Bucky is wearing nothing else but his own briefs and 2) forget ‘kept’— Bucky looks owned.

Steve sheepishly rearranging the contents of his kitchen cabinets right after Bucky first comes to stay because he realizes that Bucky can’t reach half of the glasses and plates

[in reference to this post]

I’m obsessed, Nonnie. Obsessed. That last anon said “bellybutton” and an entire world of head canons bloomed bright before my eyes. A kaleidoscope of tummy dimples. It will consume my dreams for weeks, I know it.

Steve starts taking extra care in the shower to clean his itty bitty bellybutton because he’s learned how much Bucky likes to stick his tongue in it (in both sexy and silly ways), and then after a while it just becomes second nature to him, and Bucky will come into the bathroom in the morning to brush his teeth while Steve is taking his shower and he’ll hear Steve humming idly and he’ll see through the fogged up glass how Steve is rubbing a washcloth in gentle little circles on his lower tummy.

Food play. Bucky drizzling caramel over the curves and ridges of Steve’s abdomen (Steve squirms like he hates it, but his dick could cut glass) just so he can eat it up himself, suck it off’a Steve’s little pink nipples and let that sweet, amber liquid settle in the divot of Steve’s navel for Bucky lick out.

Bucky spotting the pretty little dip of it through Steve’s tight shirt and being helpless not to tease at it with his finger just to hear a grown man giggle

Bucky bending Steve in half to fuck him on their bed, Steve’s knees shoved back so far they’re touching Steve’s own tits, and Bucky going absolutely feral over the sight of Steve’s neglected, red cock leaking and leaking and leaking until there’s a clear pool of it gathering in Steve’s bellybutton

(Assuming you are talking about Trucker Stevie) This is a wonderful and highly important question. 

Initially I wanted to do what you ask and go for a specific measurement (3-4″ hard? it’s not a micropenis) but that felt cold and off. So I went to confer with @howdoyousleep3 -- who is more currently in-practice than I am with writing about Steve’s dick (ohhh shit was that an accidental spoiler about the existence of certain mind-bendingly fantastic wip? oh well you didn’t hear it from me) -- and her answer was perfect: “barely different totally hard than flaccid”.

Just... the mental image associated with that thought? We love cocks of all shapes and sizes on this blog, but the amazing thing about Trucker Steve’s pretty dick is that when he gets hard, that bitty thing (no bigger than his thumb!) gets fat but not longer. It takes Steve no time at all to go from completely flaccid, laying happy and relaxed on his soft balls, to hard and pink and weepy. There’s just not a lot there to chub up, ya know? It’s the best <3