Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Now more than ever, Bob was looking forward to sleeping. Not in a bad way, of course. There was just something waiting for him. Or rather, someone. He was kind, handsome, and kind of funny. He just also happened to live in Bucky Barnes' head. That was their best working theory. Somehow his ability to read people's emotional states was interfering with Bucky’s own thoughts and perceptions to create realities similar to the void rooms, but pleasant. Much more pleasant. 

There were of course still things that he had not yet discovered. Like if it could be done whilst they were awake or if this worked on anyone else. These inquiries were difficult to make progress on, two fold. For one, Bucky was unwilling to talk about it. Second, he was unwilling to talk to anyone else about it. Despite the fact they often spent the night together, he still kept a fair amount of distance from Bob in the day. Though there was some change. When he spoke up during the occasional team meeting or hang out and was cut down frequently by Walker, occasionally by  Ava and rarely by Alexei, Bucky would give him a look. It was one that he had learned to read. Was this his battle or did he need backup? 

That was new for him having reliable back up in this way. His own defensive nature that wrapped up his wallow and self pity struggled to use, it but it warmed him up that it was right there. This plus his conversations with Sam were helping. He felt good seeing the Thunderbolts off on missions and having the Watchtower in tip top shape for their return. 

Yelena had noticed and spoke on the change in their general quarters’ conditions. “This place looks good. Almost too good. What are you hiding?” she asked him one day.

“They’re called micro raves. I send out the blast the moment you guys leave and trash the place and get it all cleaned up before you get back.”

She smirked at that. “Add me to your list. And make me VIP.”

“Done,” he responded with a smile. 

Even Ava once had commented in passing. “Thank god this place isn't a sty anymore.” 

He had relayed the message to Sam that very night.

“How kind of her,” he responded wryly. They were in the space that gave him the most comfort, Sam’s bed room with its soft bedding and wonderful companion. They were both in their underwear like they always were. Except his was the same boxer briefs as always, while Sams rotated between a similar pair to his own and a thong which left little to the imagination. He preferred the thong and he felt like Sam could tell, a coy smile on his face every time his dick became hard as he took in his near nude form. 

This was one of those thong wearing nights and thought he was appreciative to look at him, he was even more excited to share what Ava had said. “But it actually was. She didn’t even roll her eyes.” he pushed back.

Sam merely looked amused, but seemed to accept what he was saying as fact. “Well I’m proud of you for getting through to her.” He was lazily rubbing at Bob’s chest and he couldn't lie and say it wasn’t having a very predictable effect on his body.

“Now while I would love to keep talking to you about how others are finally appreciating you, I’d like to show my appreciation another way, if you’ll let me.” His hand moved lower past his stomach, lower still reaching right into his briefs. The feel of his palm around his cock never got old and he let out a soft breath. 

Another thing he had learned. The easiest way to end the dream was for him to cum. He didn’t like it and though Bucky never complained, it was clear in the grimace on his face, he didn’t like it when it ended either. So he tried to hold off from nutting as much as he could. It was hard though when a gorgeous man looked at you with such abject lust.

He tried to ignore the disappointed look on Sam’s face as he gestured for him to remove his  hand away from his cock. “Can I make you feel good instead?”

Sam didn’t look disappointed for very long, a mischievous smile growing on his face. “Of course, baby boy. You got any ideas?”

He bit his tongue. That was the other thing. Sam was remembering things across from previous nightly encounters. Another thing he was unsure of how, but that meant that the dirty things they did carried over. The dirty things that he said carried over too. Like a few weeks ago when Sam had been at his back and he had been sat between his open legs. He had felt his soft lips kiss at his neck while he slowly jerked him off.

His words had sent shivers through Bob’s body as he tried to ignore the hot throbbing erection at his back. “That’s it. That my boy. My smart, hardworking boy. Just relax for me. I’ll make you feel so good.” His cock was dripping precome that Sam was using to push waves of pleasure through his body.

He had been successfully holding off an orgasm for so long, but it was a losing battle. “Please, please,’ he had pleaded. “Daddy, I can’t-shit I’m didn’t mean-”

He felt the deep timbre of an amused chuckle move through Sam’s body. His voice was so close. “Hey I don’t mind. I can be your daddy. I kind of like that. I like taking care of you.” 

Sam turned his head to meet his eyes. There was no malice. Nothing stern at all, just a strong loving gaze. “Can I get a kiss?”

How could he ever tell him no again? “Please…daddy.” He nearly choked on the word, but it had been teetering on the edge of his tongue for so long. He didn’t want to make this weird. He didn’t want to ruin this thing he had found, but it felt so good. Wrapped in his arms, he felt safe and content and so fucking horny. 

“I love you baby boy.” Sam replied. He cried into his mouth as he spilled over into his gentle hands. 

Sam had remembered that. He could see in him now, on this bed once again, not nearly as nude but close, because the expressions were near identical. No judgement at all. God how could he be this lucky? It was easier now than to meet that warm gaze, but it was still too hot like moments like now. So he tried to move his gaze downward, but now he had a different problem. Sam’s giant tits. They looked so soft upon his chest and his nipples so tantalizingly close.

He hadn’t even realized his mouth was hanging open until he felt Sam’s hand lift his chin up to look at him once again. “I think I know what you want.”

“Maybe,” he replied sheepishly as if they had not been getting each other off for weeks now. But it was different now. He wasn’t just Sam’s boy. Sam was his daddy now and for some reason, that made it feel more intimate.

But even in this moment, he was taken care of. Sam grabbed his hand and placed it upon one of his large tits. He squeezed on instinct enjoying the soft give of the fatty breast. His reward was a muffled moan in the back of Sam’s throat clearly enjoying the pressure. The sound doubled as he shed his underwear completely, fully climbed on top of the older man and began to squeeze the other. 

“A little handsy with your daddy, huh?” San remarked as he continued squeezing his tits like they were squeaky toys.

“Only because you enjoy it,” he responded cheekily. The sounds he was making were more than enough of a cue.

“I think I’d like it more if you put them in your mouth. You’ve been drooling for a minute there. It'd be a shame if all that spit went to waste”

His brain short-circuited for a second. He even stopped squeezing but luckily gained his faculties enough to say, “Okay.”

It was true. Hunger felt different in here, like it could be satisfied or postponed with mere willpower. The hunger for Sam’s body was persistent. He carried it with every conversation, scared to always make the first move. But if he was asked, no, if he was told, he would obey. That’s what good boys do. His tongue found his pointed left nipple enjoying the hard nub. He closed his mouth around the thing and began to suck. Though he started weak, the effect was immediate. Sams breath got heavier and he began to groan softly. The sound of his pleasure went straight to Bob’s own dick which was trapped between their stomachs. As the strength of each suck increased so did the gorgeous sounds Sam was making .His tongue was a mad thing around his nipple desperate to lick up around his lovely areola to give it as much attention as possible.

But he didn't stop there. His tit was too big to shove fully in to this mouth but he did try. With every pop, he sucked on more and more of his glorious tit till it was a big shiny mess. 

He felt Sam’s hand in his hair gripping light but firm as he pulled him the left to the right side of his large chest. “The other one, baby. The other one too.” Oh right he had gotten so distracted that he had forgot he had not one squishy toy to play, with but two. If his mouth was exploratory with the first tit, he was down right ravenous with the second. His hand found Sam’s drying left nipple while he soaked the other in his saliva and played with it while sweet deep moans floated down to his ears. He was so hungry but he had everything he wanted right here. His daddy’s precious tits that he was doing his eager best to pull milk from. 

He felt Sam’s large arms wrap around his head as he cooed, “That’s my boy. My beautiful boy.”

He whined as he wrapped his legs around Sam’s thick thigh, the drag of his erection feeling like fire against his naked body. 

“You like sucking your daddy’s titites?” he asked in that warm buttery tone. 

“Yes,” he whined but it’s not like Sam could hear him on account of his mouth being very occupied. 

But he could still understand him well enough as he began to stroke his hair. “I know. Enjoy yourself. Take anything, everything from me. It’s yours. I’m all yours.”

Shit. He couldn’t help it. He was desperate, alternating between both wonderful fluffy tits in equal measure. He shoved his face between them, needing his tongue on as much of Sam’s wonderful skin as possible. All the while between sharp breaths he spoke to him about how strong was, how reliable, how beautiful. All of the praise made him feel crazy. He sucked and humped him like a damn dog. He wanted to stop to bring himself away from the edge, to cherish this feeling but it was too late. He felt his orgasm hit him like a truck and squeezed Sam’s thigh tight as he came in jolts. He knew the next part. The blackness would overtake him. His eyes would open and he would be in the real world with a stain on his pants yet again and a cranky super soldier curled around him. But he didn’t want that. He wanted this, to be told how much he was loved, how much he was needed by a kind, paternal man. Was that so fucking wrong?

Please don’t go daddy.

He felt a hand stroke at his hair, a familiar voice speaking. A familiar scent. “I’m not going anywhere,” Sam said with a chuckle.

Bob's eyes opened. He was still in the all brown room with its soft candles, his legs curled around the thigh around a wonderful man. He lifted his head. There he was still, a crooked smile on his face. “You did make a bit of a mess though.”

His tits were still quite glossy with spit and sweat and oh god, was that a bite mark?

“I’m sorry,” he said, warm with embarrassment, kissing the bite mark on his right tit.

Sam looked unbothered. “You got excited. That’s what happens to horny boys sometimes. Perfectly natural”

He felt buzzy. It was so paternal, so understanding. He had fucked up and the mistake had been aknowledged with no bashing.He could tell Sam knew how he was making him feel because he had a bit of cocky look on his face. That didn’t bother him one bit. Let him feel cocky till the end of time. He was taking care of him after all.

“But I do need you to get off me so I can go clean up.” Sam continued.

His embarrassment flared back to life once again once he realized he had cum all over him, streaking his legs in sheer white. He obeyed, getting off the older man.

Sam got to his feet a little unsteadily. “I’m going to get some towels and clean up. Then when I get back, you can make it up to me by massaging me with some shea butter. How’s that sound?”

Wait, did that mean he wanted him to touch him again? Cover his body in some sort of soft butter. He felt his dick jump once again. “That sounds good to me, daddy.”

The name clearly pleased Sam as he shot him a quick wink before leaving the room. Once he was finally gone, Bob took a deep breath wiping his hands on the bedspread. His palms were sweating. He of course was nervous in anticipation at the next phase of the night, but also…there was going to be a next phase of the night. One of the rules he had thought he had nailed had been made null and void. He had cum and still was here in the dream. It hadn’t disappeared. Why? Was it because he wanted it bad enough or perhaps…he was getting better at using it?

Once again he felt frustrated because there was no one to talk about this. The only other person who could potentially have insight was god knows where. Except that wasn’t true. He was right next to him, close enough to cuddle, but also they were inside his head. Bucky was all around in somehow all the ways except the one that mattered. The buzzing he had felt earlier returned and the edges of the world got dark for a second and then darkness receded. The room was same as ever, except now there was a second door next to the first. The one that Sam had exited in order to clean up. He should've just stayed put, waited until he got back and then decide what to do. It’s what a good boy would do right? But he wasn't good all the time. This was one of those times. 

The second door was all black and shiny. He pushed it open and was transported to another world. Deep hypnotic tracks sounded loud in invisible speakers. The smell of hookah, weed and sweat hung in the air. There were people dancing all around but none of them seemed to notice him and his naked form. No, they were much more interested in one another. Some were merely jumping up and down to the persistent beat, but others were grinding instead. Grinding with barely anything between their body and the next. It was harnesses and latex and shiny rubber that gleamed in the dark light. No wonder no one noticed him. There was so much else to ogle instead. 

He didn't know where he was going just trying to avoid these two women kissing here, a man licking another man's pit there, or the man who fully giving cunnilingus as a petite woman rode his face as leaned against a wall. He was trying to remain calm and not…excited but they were so beautiful. So honest about what they wanted in such a public space. His dick was rising of its own accord. He wasn't ready for that. 

He turned to head back from where he came and saw movement from the corner of his eye. Bodies were bent and curved all over, but this one was familiar or rather both bodies were. The man getting fucked and the man doing the fucking. Bucky had Sam bent over the side of black couch, ramming into him with a fervor. 

If not for the blasting tones, he's sure he would hear the distinct slap of skin on skin. Speaking of, they were not all the way naked, Bucky dressed distinctly formal as if private security and Sam in the remains of a pretty maroon and gold suit. His trousers were down to his knees and his shirt torn open, but a suit it still was. He didn't know where to look. Bucky's fat cock as he slammed over and over in Sam's thick cheeks, his ass wobbling with the force of his thrusts or Sam’s face of  scrunched ecstasy or the leash he held in his hands, attached to the collar around Bucky's throat. Sam was pulling on the thing hard as if it would bring Bucky as close as possible to him to do exactly as it wanted, which was apparently to fuck him in the middle of a crowd of people. Bucky's face was smashed into Sam's collar as if he was addicted to his scent. Like he was a big dog or something that needed direction. His hands were grabbing at Sam's chest like it was going to run away from. Bob's own hands twitched at the force. Something about that bothered him, how reckless he was being with his daddy's body. 

But that wasn't him, he had to tell himself. His Sam. This was Bucky's fantasy, the one he refused to talk about or perhaps one of many. While he mostly stayed in Sam's apartment enjoying the casual intimacy of being at home with a man who would never yell at him, he had no clue what Bucky was up to-until now. Deciding it was probably for the best that Bucky did not know he was there, he fully turned back around and headed back through the strange black door that hung in the middle of the club floor. 

Once he was back in Sam's room, or maybe he should start thinking of it as their room, he started to feel a bit more relaxed. It helped that Sam, his Sam, not in a suit, just wonderfully nude, was waiting in bed for him. 

“There he is,” Sam said.

“Sorry, I…um,” what could he even say? How would dream Sam even comprehend this?” He turned to look back at the club he had just come from but the door and its salacious denizens had disappeared. 

Suddenly he felt very tired, his limbs heavy and his lids heavier than that. “Can we just cuddle?” He wasn't intentionally trying to change the topic. The idea just felt really good to him right now. 

Sam was obviously receptive to the idea. “Of course. Come here.”

It was so easy to climb back on the bed and sink into his open arms and lie on his chest. His warmth. His scent. His strong arms curled around him. He nearly moaned as he began to play in his hair, dragging his fingers tenderly through his scalp. 

“You like that baby?”

“Yes, daddy” he mumbled against his heartbeat. It was getting easier to say it. The word slipped from his tongue, eager to be declared. 

“I should hope so. I can feel you getting hard again,” he said with a chuckle. 

Except it wasn't a joke. He was getting hard against his thigh. But it wasn't because they were cuddling. Ok it was a little cuz just being naked against Sam was going to provoke a physical reaction from him. The greater reason was the image that he couldn't kick from his mind. Bucky fucking Sam that intensely. Almost feral in his need. But there was devotion there, a possessiveness he could not stop thinking about. Who was worthy of Sam Wilson's love, his touch, his praise. Only the most loyal of men..

But he wasn't like that. He wasn't sure how good on a leash he would be. He needed a steady hand and voice and not necessarily force, but he could be just as loyal, just as loving. Not yet a dog, but a puppy. He sunk into the dark of a deeper slumber with so many dangerous new thoughts swirling in his mind. 

…

The sex shop was quiet. Besides the cashier asking if he needed help upon his initial arrival, he had been left alone to peruse its densely packed aisles. He was treating it like shopping hungry in a supermarket, as if he was not craving anything in particular, but needed to browse to find the thing that was just right. In reality, he knew exactly what he was looking for but he strolled regardless. It was near the back on the furthest right aisle. They were hung up in a row. A series of collars. Most black, others, red, blue and gold. Some spiked. All just…waiting. His days whilst cleaning or playing video games or reading often turned to Sam. How he made him feel in more ways than one. However in the past week it had evolved. He couldn’t help but think of Bucky’s Sam. The one in that club. The grip on that leash. The collar that claimed Bucky has Sam’s in the club of hedonism and pleasure. What would such a thing feel like? Sensations he hadn’t had direct experiences with in the dream always felt a little off. He didn’t want off. He wanted to feel complete submission. That thought had wriggled it way so deep into his mind he had ended up here. In a sex shop debating buying one just to see how it felt. How tender Sam would put it around his throat. 

The cashier had the discretion to put the collar in a small black plastic bag and he kept it in the large center pocket of his hoodie as he took the train back to the Watchtower. As he walked into the lobby, he hoped he wouldn’t have to run into any of his team members as he was damn near bouncing with anticipation to try his new purchase. It was the nastiest of all monkey paws that he got his wish. None of the other members of the Thunderbolts were in the lobby, but Sam Wilson was. Not his Sam. Not Bucky’s Sam. Sam Sam. Captain America. Not naked or stroking his hair or sucking on his cock. Just the man of his dreams right in front of him in a maroon polo and dark jeans slowly walking up to him.

“Hey there,” he began, the timber of his voice so familiar, yet so foreign. “You’re Bob, right? I’m looking for Bucky or Congressman Barnes, if you prefer. Is he here?”