Members of the @bucks-and-noble had the opportunity to participate in a challenge to create works (writing, graphics, etc) that were READER X AMBIGUOUS LEAD focused. Something where that lead - or babe - wasn't specifically defined. There may be shades or hints of a specific leading man or woman, but open enough to be interpreted into anyone/many-one at the reader's discretion.
Trick-or-treat yourself to indulging in these works:
⸮⸮⸮ When Delusions Become Reality by @tom-whore-dleston
male professor x female student reader, 1.4k words, smut
content/warnings: professor x student relationship, making out, flirting, consent is major key, praise kink, oral sex, boob worship, penetration, cum eating, babe calls reader ‘bub’, reader calls babe 'sir’, implied round 2
⸮⸮⸮ Calgon, Take Me Away by @navybrat817
reader x stranger, 900 words
content/warnings: None really. Reader is just done with some parts of adulting.
⸮⸮⸮ The Princess and The Villain by @witchywithwhiskey
soft!dark male character x female reader, 1.7k words
content/warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes, abduction, drugging, dirty thoughts and fantasies (including nonconsensual somnophilia), sadism, dacryphilia, a dangerously delusional man
⸮⸮⸮ All the Pieces Fall by @buckets-and-trees
male lead x female reader, 3.1k words, smut
content/warnings: exes to lovers; explicit smut: oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart); fluff
Thank you so much to our members who participated through creating or reading and reblogging these works!
Bob can't sleep, but that's okay because neither can Bucky and hanging out with the quiet supersoldier is kind of his favourite thing anyway.
Content: fluff and fluffy pancakes.
For @fluffyjuly 10 - Eating Pancakes Together
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts - warmth in the dark → storytelling / vulnerability / shared silence
Masterlist | Marvel | Bob Reynolds | Bucky Barnes
"You're still up?" Bucky moved in the glow from the lights that ran under the kitchen cupboards. The counter space illuminated, but the rest of the room cask in darkness.
"Yeah, couldn't sleep. Hungry. Still." Bob sat at the breakfast bar, leaning his face onto his arms.
"I get you," Bucky slid a mug towards him. "When I first left HYDRA—"
He says it as if he quit a job, instead of escaping an organisation of fascists set to take over the world.
"— I could never eat enough, I had candy for almost every meal. It was great, but, not great," Bucky shrugged, "we can help you find your balance." He gave Bob a friendly smile, "we're a team now."
"Thanks."
It made Bob feel odd to be part of a team, especially this team. The less than savoury backgrounds he could relate to, but not the skill or even the powers. He had no control, it just took control of him. The Void. Sentry.
And then he'd wake up, so hungry he felt like he was starving, bruised and sore in places he didn't know existed.
"Do you want something now?" Bucky offered.
"Yeah, but no more shakes please." Bob mumbled, pressing his face deeper into the pretzel of his crossed arms.
"Shakes? Milkshakes? I thought you liked those."
Bob raised his head to shake it 'no'.
Bucky moved around the kitchen the same way he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his gun. It made Bob's stomach flip in a way he didn't understand so he looked back down.
"Protein shakes, Walker made me one. It made me feel full but like…sick full? And it tasted like weird vanilla ice cream."
Bucky made a noise of acknowledgement and kept moving, "I'm going to turn the blender on."
The noise still made Bob jump but he appreciated the heads up.
There was a frying pan noise, the sizzle of oil or…maybe butter? And Bucky padding round the space, topping up his mug with hot milk and setting cutlery either side of his head.
It was peaceful, the not-quiet of his movements and Bob's own rhythmic breathing. He could possibly go to sleep like this, if he wasn't so damn hungry.
"Here you go." Bucky poked him with the edge of a plate.
He sat next to Bob, his own plate piled equally as high with pancakes, fruit and a few slices of bacon.
"They've got John's protein powder in, but you can't taste it, I promise, and banana — the potasium is good for you — plus bacon. You like strawberries, right? There's a whole punnet in the fridge if you want more."
Then he got stuck in, eating and flipping through the pages of yesterday's newspaper still sprawled on the counter.
Bob started to eat too, the pancakes were surprisingly good, he should've known from Bucky's confidence that he could cook, though he never really did for anyone else. Soon both of their plates were empty, the hot chocolate long gone and Bob felt, briefly, full and tired.
"Better?" Bucky asked, clearing the dishes away.
"Thank you, yeah, a lot."
"Think you could go to sleep?"
"Maybe."
"I think I'll go and read in my room." Bucky took a few newspaper pages and the paperback he'd left on the couch and headed for the elevator, "do you want to join me?" He offered it casually, but his shoulders were set, his eyes grey with nerves.
Bob smiled, grabbing his own book and jogging over to the elevator eagerly. "Yeah."
Hi! I love your fics with Bucky and child reader! I thought about a Bucky x teenage reader, but maybe the reader is around 16-19 y/o. Somehow he finds us, maybe while raiding hydra with other avengers or whatever you want, but the point is - the reader turns out to have hearing loss, which makes it hard for the reader to trust him. I would love to read about the process of Bucky trying to make the reader trust him and making them feel safe and comfortable<3
Building Trust -> Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Platonic/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Platonic Teen!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky finds you when he was raiding a HYDRA base with the Avengers and does everything he can to get you to trust him.
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes
Header made by my friend / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator
Alarms blaring and red lights are flashing throughout the HYDRA base the Avengers are currently raiding. They split up to cover more ground. You were hiding in a room not too far from the hallway Bucky was currently walking in. You waited till he was past the room you’re in before poking your head out of the room. The coast was clear. Or so you thought. You ran out of the room, running in the opposite direction as Bucky. That’s when Bucky heard the sound of your feet hitting the floor loudly as you ran. He turns around, his gun held up in front of him.
“Hey!” Bucky shouts at you.
Due to your hearing loss, you didn’t hear him since he was on the other side of the hallway. Bucky chases after you. You felt his presence behind you and ran faster. He caught up to you and grabs your arm, which made you stop running. You began to freak out and tried to get away from him by pushing him away, but he didn’t budge. Bucky got a good look at you and quickly realized that you’re not a HYDRA agent. You’re just a teenager.
“You’re just a teenager.” Bucky says.
It sounded like his voice was muffled, but you didn’t hear what he said. You just kept trying to get away from him. Bucky put his gun in the holster that’s on his hip to make him look less intimidating. He holds you with a firm grip to try to get you to stop trying to get away from him.
“I just want to help you.” He says softly.
You were looking at him when he said that. Even though his voice sounds muffled, you read his lips and you began to calm down.
“Help.” You say a little loud.
“Yes, help. That’s all I want to do for you.” He says.
You read his lips again and then nodded hesitantly. Bucky slowly lets go of you and guides you to the quinjet. You were quiet on the quinjet, which confused the Avengers when they said something to you.
“Why isn’t she responding to what we’re saying?” Sam asks.
“She probably scared from what she endured from HYDRA.” Steve says.
“Anyone would be.” Bucky says.
When you and the Avengers got back to the compound, you were hesitant to get off of the quinjet.
“It’s ok.” Bucky softly assures.
You slowly and hesitantly got off of the quinjet. Bucky took you to the med bay to make sure you’re ok. You freaked out the second you entered the med bay, especially when you saw the needles. Bucky held onto you before you could run out of the med bay.
“No needles!” You say loudly.
“They’re not going to do anything with needles. I promise. They want to help you too. Just trust me.” Bucky says.
You read his lips again. It was hard for you to trust him or anyone else due to your hearing loss, which makes it even harder for you.
“Help.” You say loudly.
“Yes, help. That’s all they want to do and so do I.” He says.
You looked from Bucky to the med bay doctor before whimpering.
“It’s going to be ok. I’ll stay in here if you want me to.” He says softly.
You looked at him again before nodding. You hesitantly let the med bay doctor check you for any injuries. You didn’t have any. The doctor discovered your hearing loss when she checked your ears.
“She appears to have no injuries, but she does have hearing loss.” The doctor tells Bucky.
“Hearing loss?” Bucky asks.
“Yes. It can possibly be due to what HYDRA did to her.” She says.
“How are her and I supposed to communicate?” He asks.
“She might be able to read lips or you can write stuff down.” She says.
Bucky cautiously approaches you, getting at eye level with you.
“Can you read lips?” Bucky asks.
You nodded your head yes.
“I’m Bucky.” He introduces himself to you. “Can you tell me your name?” He asks.
“Y/N.” You introduced yourself to him.
“How old are you?” He asks.
“19.” You tell him.
“I know everything must be nerve wracking for you and you don’t trust anyone right now, which is completely understandable. All I want to do is help you. Can you allow me to do that?” He says.
“Yes.” You answered.
You spend weeks trying to trust Bucky. He didn’t expect you to trust him right away, which he understands. All he wants is to help you and for you to trust him. You’re trying to trust him. You really are, but it’s kind of difficult to trust someone when you have hearing loss. Speaking of hearing loss, Bucky did research on everything he needs to know about it so he can help you. He already knows that you can read lips. He doesn’t talk fast when he’s talking to you. He wants you to be able to read his lips and understand what he’s saying when he’s talking to you.
Another way of him helping you is that he came up with an idea that he went to Tony and Bruce with. He asked them if they could make you some kind of hearing device so you can hear what everyone is saying, which they agreed to do. Since you’ll be able to hear with the hearing device Tony and Bruce are making for you, he thinks you might be able to trust him more. Maybe. He’s not sure yet. All he has to do is find out, which is what he’s about to do. Bucky found you in the lounge room watching TV. He sat down next to you and tapped on your shoulder to get your attention. You jumped a bit and then looked at him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to accidentally startle you.” Bucky apologizes.
“It’s ok.” You say.
“Are you busy?” He asks.
You read his lips and shook your head no.
“Come with me.” He says.
“Where are we going?” You asked.
“The lab.” He says.
Your eyes went wide and you felt your heart start to pound.
“The- The lab?” You asked.
Bucky could hear the fear in your voice.
“Don’t worry. No experiments. I promise.” He softly assures.
You nodded and took a deep breath. You stood up with Bucky and followed him to the lab. Bucky could tell that you’re nervous to be in there.
“Take a seat. You’re going to be ok. I promise.” Bucky says.
You hesitantly walked over to the chair and sat down. You nervously fidgeted with your fingers. You looked up when you saw Bruce walking towards you with a small box. He put the small box on the table next to you and opened it.
“What is that?” You curiously asked.
“It’s a device that’ll help you hear.” Bruce tells you.
Bruce got the hearing devices out of the box and put them in your ears. You waited silently for a moment before saying anything.
“Well? What do you think?” Bucky asks.
Your eyes went wide in surprise. You heard what he just said clearly.
“I can hear you!” You say.
You got surprised again.
“I can hear myself too! Oh my god! I can hear now!” You exclaimed.
You stood up from the chair and hugged Bruce and Tony.
“Thank you!” You say.
“We may have made the hearing device, but it was all Barnes’s idea.” Tony says.
You looked over at Bucky and then walked over to him, hugging him tightly.
“Thank you so much!” You say.
“You’re welcome, kid. I just wanted to do something to help so you can trust me.” Bucky says.
“I do trust you.” You say, looking up at him.
“You do?” He asks.
“Yes. It was hard to trust anyone before getting a hearing device. Now, it’s a lot easier for me to trust you and everyone else.” You say.
“I hope that trust keeps building.” He smiles.
“Me too.” You smiled.
“You’re a good kid and I would like to get to know you if that’s ok with you.” He says.
“It’s more than ok.” You say.
In that moment, you began to trust Bucky more and more. Bucky is happy that you finally trust him now. He’s never going to take it for granted.
Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers
Word Count: 7.2k
Summary: Bucky teaches his friend many of the finer techniques in his favorite hobby - pleasuring his wife. UNABASHADELY PORN WITHOUT AN OUNCE OF PLOT.
Warnings: Explicit Smut, threesome (no crossing swords), objectification, dirty talk, oral (male and female receiving), clit play, breast play, overstimulation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, light choking, fingering, brief cum play, slight worship, multiple orgasms, Bucky is a complete menace, insatiable lust, super soldiers aka super sex machines
Author Note: When I wrote Tutorials in Precision for @writer-in-a-cryofreeze, quiiiiiiiite a few of you clamored for more. CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You’d expected a lot of things when you agreed your husband’s oldest friend should come spend the holidays with you, but not this: you naked and splayed open, your back against Bucky’s chest, and Steve knelt between your legs, focus absolute as they took you apart.
Bucky’s lips moved against your neck, not quite kissing, hand sliding to cup one aching breast. “You want to feel for the ridge, the soft roof inside. Feel it?”
Steve nodded, learning by the tremors that rippled through you.
And you? You could only moan as his fingers sought a place only Bucky had touched before tonight.
Steve’s breath ghosted along your thigh, cool in comparison to the heat pooling where his fingertips pressed. “Like this?” he asked, looking up, seeking confirmation from Bucky.
Bucky squeezed you, barely-there pressure, his thumb circling your nipple. “Yeah, there—you’ll feel it through the front wall. Little bump.”
Steve slid his fingers deeper, slow and careful, and you arched back against Bucky’s chest. The pressure inside shifted, molten but sudden, and you gasped at the feel of it when he found it—that ridge, the soft roof, as Bucky had described it. Steve’s big hand trembled just a little as he kept it inside you, gentle but greedy, desperate to get it right. The man was as worshipping as he was determined, brow furrowed, lashes dark against his cheek as he mapped each element of your reactions.
And Bucky watched, grinning against your ear, voice thick. “That’s it, Steve. Watch her face, see how her mouth falls open? Touch her there, a tiny bit harder, that’s it, yeah.”
He kept the pressure steady, calloused thumb skating circles over your clit while his fingers pressed up, learning you, working with the careful tenacity he applied to every complex operation.
Bucky’s own hand drifted lower, his touch rough at your hip, a grounding force. You couldn’t move if you’d wanted to, pinned between them, the air thick with sweat and something like ozone.
You bucked, pulse thumping in your throat, teeth gritty against a whimper. Steve’s eyes flicked up again, shining, hungry, and your swore you might come just on the taste of his focus. With every press against that spot, your vision stuttered out, blinking in firework-bright bursts.
Bucky’s voice pressed into the shell of your ear, low and lazy, but with that hint of command that still managed to thrill you, even after all these years. “She’s real sensitive right there, Steve. Just steady. Keep the rhythm—yeah, just like that.”
“Fuck, Buck—she’s gonna—” Steve’s fingers jittered, the tip of his thumb ghosting over your wet clit.
“Let her,” Bucky hummed, open-mouthed over her shoulder. His other hand covered her thigh, holding her so wide the ache felt like a dare. “Make her feel it.”
Steve’s hand was huge, careful, coaxing, until it wasn’t, until the motion grew greedy, needy. You’d never been shy with Bucky, but with the attention of two lovers you felt nearly too open and exposed, nerves sparking along every limb. Bucky’s thumb toyed with your nipple, drawing it taut, while Steve’s fingers pursued your impending orgasm relentlessly.
And the orgasm came with no warning, just an unbearable pressure and then a bright, skittering release, your vision white-out as you shrieked and clamped around Steve’s hand. He nearly lost his balance but Bucky steadied him—steadied you—bracing your shaking limbs as you rode the aftershocks. Even after the pleasure crested, Steve’s fingers didn’t stop. He worked you through every shudder, sucking a breath through his teeth, awed. His voice was a fervent whisper, “Jesus. You—fuck, you look good like this.”
“She always does,” Bucky replied, mouth slick on your jaw, catching the sweat there. “You wanna see her come again?”
Steve’s hand stilled, then slowly slid free, leaving you embarrassingly empty and sticky. He watched you with dazed awe, pink flush climbing from his collar to cheekbones, as if he couldn’t believe the thing he’d just made happen, for you.
“Yeah, I do. Will you let me?” he asked, eyes meeting yours again.
You nodded, voice gone to wool and cotton, incapable of anything but a whispered, “Please.” The word left your lips desperate, high-pitched, a note of wildness that made Bucky’s hand tighten against your thigh, a subtle anchor to keep you from dissolving completely.
Steve’s smile broke open on his face, that cocky little tilt that always got him his way. He ducked down and pressed his mouth to your thigh, some kind of benediction, before giving Bucky a look, a question you weren’t included in: permission, or maybe the next step in instructions. Bucky’s hand still gripped your thigh, and the pressure from his fingertips went from comfort to proprietary.
“Take your time,” Bucky told him, slow as syrup. “She’s got plenty more in her if you work it up right.”
You whimpered, and Steve’s hand found your knee, thumb brushing circles that didn’t seem to know whether they were meant to calm or tease. He spread you even wider, fingers delving again, but now the touch was softer, coaxing in a new way. He watched your face the whole time, never letting you look away, and the sheer heat of his attention made it impossible to catch your breath, impossible to be anywhere but here, between them, for them.
You let your head loll back on Bucky’s chest, and he inhaled you like a secret. Steve’s mouth ghosted over the inside of your knee, the lightest of touches, as his hand slid slick with you, coaxing you open again. There was awe in his expression, like he couldn’t believe the things your body was capable of. That he couldn’t believe you let him see it.
Bucky’s voice was right in your ear, velvet and wicked. “You love this, don’t you? How he touches you, how he looks at you?” His teeth grazed just below your pulse, almost biting, his metal hand now flat and heavy on your soft stomach.
Steve’s mouth found your clit then, hot and wet, and you bit your lip, trying not to break apart too quickly, but Bucky’s other hand snapped up to your chin, forcing your jaw open. He slid two thick fingers into your mouth, muffling your gasps as Steve reached for that place inside you again, a blunt presence that made your hips twitch uncontrollably, mouth kissing and lapping at your clit.
“Be our good girl,” Bucky murmured, voice a velvet drag along your nerves. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pressed your lips open wider, thumb tight on your cheek. Everything about him said claim, but you felt less like territory and more like treasure—something precious they’d both agreed to share.
You moaned and sucked on Bucky’s fingers, desperate for something to hold onto. Steve’s tongue drew slow, wide circles, alternating with little flicks that made you see stars, and every time his fingers curled inside you, you wanted to shake apart. Bucky’s hand pressed at the base of your throat, a leash without pressure, just a reminder of where you belonged.
Steve’s tongue moved with a rough, hungry precision that made your lashes flutter, the strangeness of his mouth—different than Bucky’s, somehow broader and needier—forcing you up against the edge of your own appetite. He groaned into you, animal, and the vibration made your toes curl as your hips bucked, seeking more, seeking everything.
The sound of you—wet and needy—filled the room, obscene, and Steve was impossibly focused. You could feel the shift as Steve’s mouth grew unabashed, each lap and suckle more confident. He lapped greedily, not just at your clit but at the desperate, shuddering noises you made, feeding on them, letting them escalate him past any feigned self-control.
Bucky murmured filth in your ear. “Such a pretty thing, all open for Steve. He’s a fast learner, isn’t he?” His fingers slipped from your mouth, gliding down to squeeze your breast with proprietary delight. “Sensitive here, too, Steve. She likes it just a little mean when you bite.”
Steve’s lips left your cunt, replaced by the blunt, perfect drag of his teeth—just a graze, but amplified by the velvet heat radiating between your thighs. The wild sound you made told him everything he needed. He grinned, eyes bright, and gave you another drag with his tongue and the barest scrape of teeth. Your legs shook, clamped for a second around his broad shoulders as he tormented you, licking through the slick he’d made.
“She’s right there,” Bucky insists, “but don’t let up.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, chest heaving, as Bucky’s words poured through you, making it impossible not to want to give him everything, even the parts you thought you’d never let anyone else but him see. He tugged his hand from your mouth, and you gasped, “I’m close, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Bucky coaxed, hand splayed again over your breast, pinching and then soothing. “Let him taste it. Let him taste everything.” He nuzzled the space behind your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth, a punctuation to his demand.
Steve’s hand, meanwhile, never stopped mapping you. His thick fingers curling again against that spot inside, a squirming, irresistible pressure, while his mouth closed around your clit and sucked, hard, and the world melted into a soundless scream in your throat. You bucked up, hands grasping at Bucky’s biceps, and came again, hard enough you thought you might black out.
This time Steve didn’t bother with awe, only a growl of triumph and gratitude as he licked you through every convulsion, not stopping until your thighs trembled against his head and Bucky had to murmur, “Enough, big guy, you’ll melt her.”
You didn’t remember the transition—somewhere in the haze of pleasure, Steve had shifted you onto his lap, his cock thick and leaking, pressed impossibly hard against your hip. Bucky sat facing you both on the foot of the bed, blue eyes greedy and soft at the same time, mouth slack with want. Steve held you to his chest, the thrum of his pulse wild and loud beneath your palm.
“Fuck, honey, you alright?” Bucky asked, thumb brushing along your jaw. You only nodded, eyes glassy, limbs a little insubstantial.
“She gets real soft after she comes,” Bucky explained. His metal hand stroked your cheek, thumb scraping your parted lip. “Steve, you ever eat a girl out til she can’t think straight, and then fuck her so good she gets slick again just from the memory?”
Steve’s gaze flicked down to your face, as if he needed to check in, as if the rules of this odd, shared gravity could change at your whim. But you only leaned harder into his chest, the memory of Bucky’s words blooming low in your gut. “Not like this,” Steve said quietly, the confession tumbling out like an apology. “Never had someone so slick and eager and pliant. She’s so fucking sweet.”
“She likes making a mess, especially when she knows someone’s gonna clean it up nice for her.”
It was obscene and beautiful in the same breath, the way your body pulsed and ached for these two men. You knew Bucky intimately, but Steve was still a new entity, it should be unbelievable what you were letting him do to you, and yet you were willing because Bucky said you could be.
“You wear her out, and she lets you do anything you want.” Steve pressed his lips to your temple, the gesture as tender as a prayer, but you could feel the tension in his body—like he was holding himself back as much as he was holding you up.
“Do you want him to fuck you?” It was as blunt as a knife’s edge; Bucky never did like to leave things to implication.
You meant to say yes, steeled and confident, but the only sound you could make was a whimper. Bucky grinned. “Use your words, honey. Steve’s been waiting a long time.”
Steve’s hands tightened on your hips. “Since your wedding,” he confessed, and you gasped.
Bucky nodded, proud, calm, even though this revelation was ricocheting through your mind. Steve had been overseas for years until just recently, and of course he hadn’t missed his best friend’s wedding—had been the best man—but it had also been the first time you’d met him.
You remembered the speech, the toast. Steve smiling at you across a room of strangers, nothing but friendship and pride in his voice, but now you wondered how long he’d been drinking you in, how long he’d been simmering in this kind of want.
You also remembered—vivid as if it bloomed on the backs of your eyelids—the way Steve’s eyes had lingered at the reception, how his hand seemed to swallow yours when he shook it, holding on a beat too long. You’d caught him watching you and Bucky slow dancing, his smile softer than it ought to have been, heavy with yearning. At the time you’d wondered if maybe he was just that kind of romantic, or maybe a little lonely after so much time away.
But now that memory rewrote itself, charged and electric, searing through you as Steve took your chin in his hand and kissed you—soft at first, learning the taste of you. His mouth tasted like you, and you shivered, deep in your bones, at being desired by these two men.
Bucky reached for you, steady hands bracketing your thighs, and you sank back against Steve’s chest. Your husband ducked lower, pressing a line of kisses from your hip bone to the soft, over-sensitive spot at the seam of your thigh.
You shivered as Bucky trailed his tongue through the wetness Steve had left behind, mouth hungry and reverent. He licked slowly, then nosed at your clit, already swollen and sore from Steve’s attention, and the jolt of sensation made you gasp into Steve’s mouth. He devoured your sounds greedily, tongue parting your lips as if he needed to taste how undone you were.
Bucky’s tongue was firmer than Steve’s, more insistent, and when he flattened it against you and sucked, you felt every vibration in your teeth. You whimpered into Steve’s kiss, and he swallowed the noise, hands squeezing your hips as you rolled against the heat of Bucky’s mouth, your body burning, melting, until there was nothing left but sensation.
You weren’t sure Bucky’s mouth could ever be called gentle, but right now it was a new kind of slow, each lap deliberate, stroking the sharp edge of oversensitivity and coaxing pleasure out of it until your eyes watered. Steve’s hand wound into your hair, guiding your head back against his shoulder, and you let him, lost in the heat radiating from both their bodies.
“She’s shaking,” Steve whispered, awe thick in his voice.
“She knows what she likes,” Bucky replied, voice muffled between your legs. His metal hand dug into your thigh, cool and greedy, while the other traced lazy patterns over your ribs, drawing your skin tight with anticipation for what would come next.
Bucky pulled his mouth away with a slick, obscene sound, smirking up at you. “You ready for cock?” he asked, and this wasn’t an idle question. Bucky wanted you to say it, wanted you to beg for it. Steve’s cock pressed up under you, thick and hot, and you could feel how desperate he was for it. You were too.
“Yes,” you said, or maybe just moaned it, letting your knees fall as wide as Steve and Bucky wanted them. “Yes, please.”
“Fuck, she’s polite,” Steve mumbled, hands already guiding you up, shifting you onto your knees, palms bracing the mattress as Bucky moved to the side of you, one hand fisting his own stiff cock, the other smoothing down your back and skimming over your ass. You could feel Steve’s cock, hot and insistent, nudging between your thighs.
“She likes a full feeling,” Bucky told Steve, the statement an offer and a warning both, and you blinked up at him, swallowing. “When you fuck her, you gotta go deep.”
Steve’s hands caught your hips, palms broad enough to span almost from waist to thigh. There was a reverence in his movements, but also the first hints of impatience—the way his fingers flexed, the way his cock jumped when it brushed against you, smearing precum along the seam of your body. He lined himself up and held, not yet pushing in, and the wait felt like another kind of pleasure, anticipation sharp as a blade.
Your chest seized—with anticipation or hesitation, you weren’t sure—as you realized Bucky was going to let Steve fuck you bare.
“He’s a big one, sweetheart,” Bucky warned, and you could hear the grin on his face. He planted a hand at the small of your back, keeping your spine bowed. “Nice and slow. She likes to feel every inch.”
You pressed your face into the pillow, bracing for a stretch that came slow and monumental—Steve’s cock parting you, nudging inside until you couldn’t breathe for the fullness, the hot-dull burn that quickly blurred into something sweeter.
“There you go, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “Let him all the way in.”
You were so wet he didn’t even need to force it; the broad head split you open easily. You heard Bucky’s purr, almost proud, as if he had made you this way, greedy for the kind of ache only they could give. Bucky loved to torment you with this kind of fuck when he slid inside you, so his direction for Steve to as well was to be expected.
Steve held, fully sheathing himself, body trembling with restraint. “You okay?” The sound of your name was different in his voice, kinder, stripped of any artifice.
You nodded, eagerly pressing your hips back, and the slide hit something deep, a place that made your toes flex and your mouth fall open. Steve’s hands stroked your hips, grounding you, his breath rough as he held as still as he could manage. Bucky’s voice was syrup-sweet at your ear, “Go on, Steve. She wants it.”
The first thrust was a slow, rolling motion that stole your breath. Steve drew out nearly all the way, then slid back in, the burn giving way to a greedy, clutching pleasure. You held perfectly still, squeezing your eyes shut, learning the new shape of yourself with Steve inside you. You keened, knuckles whitening in the bedsheets. Bucky stayed close, palm at the nape of your neck, his own cock hard and leaking, pressed to your shoulder as he watched Steve fuck you.
“She takes cock so well, doesn’t she?” Bucky crooned, his tone barely above a purr. “Bet you never seen anyone so hungry before.” His metal hand traced your spine, ratcheting the tension higher as he pet you and praised you, the words a molten thread tangled through every harder, deeper thrust. Steve’s hips pistoned slow, but with such force you swore you could feel it in your throat, each time catching a spot Bucky had mapped just for him.
Steve’s rhythm was a miracle of endurance, slow and deep, every thrust measured, watched, almost academic in its hunger. His hands never stopped moving, stroking your waist, your belly, your ribs, learning every inch of you as if he needed to memorize the route. His hips stuttered occasionally, evidence of his own struggle not to lose himself too quickly to the wet heat you offered him.
And he whispered your name between every other breath, like a vow, like he was kneeling in church.
Bucky’s hands grew rougher on you, easing your thighs farther apart, planting dirty encouragements in your head that made you slicker, filthier than before. “You should see her face, Steve. She’s so beautiful right now.”
Bucky coaxed your head up and to the side so Steve could see the exact, filthy pleasure contorting your features. And you felt it, the slide of your own tears, half-joy and half-overwhelm, as Steve picked up the pace, his thrusts deeper, harder.
Bucky wiped a tear from your jaw with his thumb, then sucked it into his mouth. “So beautiful when you’re ruined like this.”
Steve’s fingers dug into your flesh, and you could feel how close he was to letting go of decorum, of caution, of the last rags of self-control. You wanted it. You moaned for it. Your head swam with the ache of being so fucking full, of being seen and used and loved all at once.
“Not gonna last,” Steve groaned, the confession breaking at the seam. “Feels—fuck, Bucky, how do you keep your head—”
“I don’t, punk. That’s why I always make her come first.” Bucky’s laugh was sharp and breathless, the sound of a man profoundly in love with his own wife. He trailed a hand down your front, fingers gliding over the slick mess Steve had made of you. “And always make it up to her after, too. She loves that part too.”
Bucky’s hand found your clit, thumb and forefinger pinching, rolling it just this side of cruel, and you yelped, the sudden spike of pain-pleasure a match to the fullness Steve was feeding you, and your whole body shuddered. Bucky laughed—warm and wicked—and reached down, fingers sliding through the mess of slick and sweat and precum at the seam where Steve’s body split yours, then smeared it over his own cock.
He pumped himself once, twice, eyes locked on where Steve’s body met yours, and you watched, unabashedly.
Bucky leaned forward, mouth hot at your jaw. “You want me to fuck your mouth while Steve fucks you?”
The question, blunt and bright, sliced through your haze. You nodded, desperate, and Bucky grinned, wolfish. He pressed his thumb to your lips, smearing the taste of yourself across them, and then shifted around in front of you, kneeling up so his cock bobbed level with your mouth. It was already slick, the head flushed dark, and you opened for him automatically, tongue out, dutiful and greedy all at once.
“That’s my girl,” Bucky breathed, sliding in slow, letting you feel the heft of him as Steve’s cock ground into your cunt from behind. You could barely spare the coordination to suck and moan at the same time, the boundary between pleasure and humiliation dissolved.
Your throat worked, helpless, as Bucky fucked your mouth in shallow, reverent thrusts, and your jaw burned with the effort of taking him as deep as he wanted. He pulled back every time you gagged, not to spare you, but to watch the string of spit connect your lips to the tip of his cock. You blinked up at your husband, tears streaming freely now, and saw how it undid him—made him thrust a little deeper, fuck your mouth a little harder, hands cradling your jaw, both anchoring and guiding you.
“Pretty thing,” he muttered, almost gentle, “look at you. That’s it. Just like that. God, Steve, you’re going to love fucking her throat.”
“Buck, you can’t just—” Steve had to groan before he could finish his thought. “You can’t just say shit like that and expect me to last.”
You moaned, mouth full of Bucky and body full of Steve, your whole self strung taut between their appetites. The rhythm between Steve’s hips behind you and Bucky’s in front of you a terrifying, perfect sync.
Bucky smirked, thumb wiping spit from your chin, then dragged it down to your throat, pressing lightly so you felt the stretch of yourself inside. “Bet you want him in your mouth right after he fills you up, don’t you?” Bucky’s voice was honey-thick, tugging need like a thread from your cunt all the way up to your brain.
You nodded, desperate, and that was all it took—Steve’s grip on your hips locked down, his pulse a wild thrum against your skin, and he buried himself in you with one last, shuddering thrust. You could feel it, the way he pulsed and spilled hot inside, and the sound he made—it was raw, almost animal. He held inside, grinding so deep you felt it all the way up your spine, filling you so perfectly a whimper broke loose from your lips even with Bucky’s cock still in your mouth.
Bucky eased out of your mouth, palm still warm against your jaw, thumb stroking where his cock had just been. He grinned at you, all sweet-and-mean, then leaned in to press a kiss over your spit-slick lips. “That’s it,” he whispered, reverent, like he was kissing holy ground. “That’s my good girl.” The words landed low in your belly, twisting up with the mess Steve had left in you.
But his cock was still inside you, too, and he collapsed forward, chest to your back, his arms caging you in. You expected him to pull out, to give you a moment to recover, but instead he rocked his hips, slow and greedy, as if he couldn’t bear to lose the feeling of you squeezing around him.
And then, without warning, his hand slid under your belly, fingers finding your clit, already swollen and overstimulated. He drew tight, precise circles with the pads of first two fingers, not letting up, even when you whined and squirmed beneath him. Bucky’s hands held you steady, anchoring you so Steve could play your body like an instrument.
The friction was so good, so dirty, that your cunt clamped around him involuntarily, milked every last drop as Steve’s fingers worked you up again, your body already betraying just how ready it was to be used a second, third, hundredth time.
“Fuck, she’s insatiable, isn’t she?” Steve said, voice almost fond, the sound of it a pressure at the base of your skull.
“She’s always been that way,” Bucky answered, a frayed thread of pride winding through his voice. “After the serum, I never met a partner who could keep up with me until her. Like you were made for a super soldier, sweetheart.”
You laughed, or tried to, but it came out a shaky, desperate gasp as Steve’s fingers wrung another whimper from you. Your knuckles dug into the sheets, the only tether as your overstimulated clit set off sparks behind your eyes. “Bucky,” you croaked, barely audible, “I can’t—”
“You can, honey. You’ll show Steve just how much you can take.” His gaze was intent, and for a moment you remembered every night the two of you had built trust on, every whispered dare and secret need he’d coaxed from you, every time he’d made you shatter and put you back together.
You barely had time to brace—Steve’s closed closed hard and firm around your clit, pinching, sending a lightning bolt through you, and as your body seized, his mouth found the meat of your shoulder and bit down. Not a warning, not a tease—a real goddamn bite. It ricocheted up your spine and detonated any coherence you had left. Your vision went blinding white, then red, and you screamed, nails gouging at the mattress, his hardening cock still buried so deep inside you it felt like you were cleaved in half.
The orgasm hit different—shocking, jagged, beyond pleasure and into a place that was just sensation, raw and total. You were crying, you realized, drool and tears tracking down your chin, but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough, not even when the world blurred and your whole midsection pulsed around Steve’s cock, milking him for everything he had.
Bucky held your gaze the whole time, watching you unravel, watching every second of you coming apart for his best friend.
“Never gets old,” Bucky said, voice ragged with want, “seeing you come apart.” He stroked your hair, gentling you even as Steve’s cock kept you pinned and shuddering.
Steve pulled out, finally, leaving a slick trail down your thigh, and you expected collapse—rest, maybe, or at least a breath of air.
You got part of what you wanted as you were manhandled with a gentle efficiency—Steve lowering you to the mattress and Bucky rolling you over onto your back. The two men bracketed themselves around you. Bucky’s thumb smoothed tears from your cheeks, his lips hovering at your brow. Steve’s palm swept your hair from your face, tucking the wild strands behind your ears, and he smiled at you, dazed and open and deeply, deeply gone himself.
“You okay?” he asked, voice so hoarse you wanted to laugh, if only you didn’t feel so utterly wrung dry.
Bucky’s hands mapped your body, stroking down your arms, your waist, as if to collect every piece of you that had scattered. “She’s perfect. She’s got a thing for being ruined,” Bucky said, rubbing his thumb hard across your jaw, “but it’s more than just the mess. It’s being wanted, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
You trembled, the answer right there but too big for your mouth. All you could manage was a soft, but firm, “It’s both.”
It was. The ache between your legs, the aftershocks twitching in your thighs, crescendoed in the knowledge that you belonged—here, between them—because you were wanted. Not just by Bucky, whose love for you was a still wildfire after the first few years of the life you were building together, but by Steve, the last person you ever expected to want anything at all.
They held you in the perfect kind of silence for a while. Bucky stroked your sternum with two fingers, tracing the rapid pounding of your heart, while Steve drew lazy patterns on your ribs, the gentle touch making your bones melt.
Steve was the one who broke the silence, voice still thick and slow. “I’m sure Bucky’s told you how everything feels amplified for us, after the serum?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice, but Steve caught your chin and made certain you were listening, blue eyes intent on the fall and rise of your chest. He thumbed the corner of your mouth, gentle in a way that didn’t match the bite mark blooming on your shoulder. “It’s true. Everything’s hotter, sharper. Smells, tastes, touch.” His hand wandered down your neck, tracing the chain of your pulse. “It’s like all the dials turned up past what they’re supposed to do.”
Bucky grinned, mouth curving against your temple, proud and a little feral. “It’s why we’re so good at this,” he said, and the “we” wasn’t just the two of them, but you too, looped into their satisfaction by being the one they found satiation with.
You remembered, dimly, what Bucky had once told you—something about how pain and pleasure were just colors in a spectrum for men like them, how sometimes the best you could do was grab hold of the brightest one and hang on until it faded.
You barely noticed when Bucky’s hand slid lower, two fingers sliding along the seam of you, dipping just inside. You’d thought you were emptied out, rung dry, but the dull ache at your entrance proved otherwise—the evidence of Steve inside you, the slow ooze of it, making your lashes flutter in a way that felt almost innocent.
“You want to keep going, honey?” He asked because this—the consent, the agency—was one of the roots of his pleasure. You nodded again, too spent for speech. “Yeah, you do,” he murmured, pressing his own cock flush against your thigh, hot iron against soft flesh. “And you want Steve to watch, don’t you?”
The way Bucky framed it, you didn’t just want to perform, to be seen—you wanted to be worshipped, to be watched while your body proved itself again and again. There was no performance anxiety; there was only the heat of two impossible men zeroed in on every twitch of your muscles. You felt your own slick between your thighs, the slow, filthy trickle of Steve’s cum pooling out of you, the ache where you’d been so thoroughly stretched.
“Sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “Words.”
You tried to say, “Yes, please,” but it came out as a sigh, and Bucky’s grin only widened.
Steve cradled your head like a priceless artifact, thumb pressing a sleepy circle against your jaw while his gaze moved between your eyes and the place where Bucky’s fingers cupped your cunt. You felt your hips roll up, wanton, trying to keep contact with Bucky’s hand even as he toyed with your entrance but never quite let you have the friction you needed.
“You want to show Steve how we fuck when it’s just you and me in the dark, how well you take me.” A statement, not a question.
“Mmmhmm,” you groaned, and Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then knelt up, hands guiding your unresisting legs apart. He knelt back on his haunches and pulled your hips close. You heard Steve’s breath stutter at the sight, and it filled you with a greedy, wild pride. Bucky teased the seam of you with the head of his cock, up and down, up and down, making you whine.
At the last moment, Bucky relented and pushed inside, filling you with a swift, brutal thrust that bottomed out in one motion. There was no slow stretch, no easing in—just the violent, relentless press of his cock, and you arched off the mattress with a helpless, desperate moan. Your body was made to take him, every inch of you was slick and trembling, so the pain blurred seamlessly into pleasure and back again until you weren’t sure which you preferred.
He moved slow at first, kneeling above you like a god, letting you feel the thickness of him as he rocked in and out, but it wasn’t long before he found the rhythm he liked—a rough, demanding piston that left you scrambling for breath, for touch, for anything to keep you from coming apart entirely. You felt every ridge and vein, every rutting pound as he chased his own need, each thrust fusing the two of you back together.
All you could do—wanted to do—was take it. The raw, pounding pleasure, the relentless stretch, the feeling of Bucky’s cock rutting into you deeply. You heard yourself sob—and it was not a neat or pretty thing, but a wrecked, raw sound that only made Bucky groan above you. He caught your thighs in his hands, spreading you wider, and you felt the obscene heat of the stretch, the way your cunt seized around him with each battering drive. The slick noise of it—your body, his cock, the fucking mess Steve had left in you—filled the room, a rhythm and a punctuation to Bucky’s breathing as he drove deeper, harder, faster.
Steve’s hand found yours in the sheets. He laced his thick fingers between yours and squeezed, grounding you, letting you feel the reverent awe rolling off him in slow, steady waves. But there was an unmet hunger still lingering there under the surface. You could feel it in the tense of his body next to yours, and when you turned your face, eyes seeking his, he met your gaze without hesitation.
Steve bent to kiss you, and there was no veiling tenderness or shy request for permission. His tongue pushed into your mouth, greedy and wild, tasting the ghost of Bucky on your lips, tasting the salt of your tears. You kissed back with everything you had, drawing another moan from your throat as Bucky pistoned into you, the force rocking your whole body up into Steve’s chest.
Bucky’s thrusts didn’t slacken—they were still relentless, still merciless—but as you and Steve kissed, the tempo oscillated into something deeper, a series of slower,seismic detonations. Each time Bucky bottomed out inside you, he held there, grinding, spine arched, as if the sight of you kissing Steve was as much a pleasure to him as the feel of your cunt squeezing him.
Steve groaned into your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, and Bucky’s grip on your thighs tightened, like he needed to stake a claim even as he offered you up. With every new roll of Bucky’s hips, a different noise tore its way out of your throat—some for the pain, some for the pleasure, some for the blissful humiliation of being made a spectacle for their eyes.
“Fuck her mouth, Steve,” Bucky said, a low, hungry rumble.
Steve didn’t hesitate, and it was only for a fraction of a second before he was shifting up, the broad line of his thigh braced alongside your head. His cock was still half-hard, glazed with your slick and his own release. The sight of it, flushed angry-red and wet, made your cunt clench around Bucky. Steve cupped your chin, thumb curling along the hinge of your jaw, and you sucked him into your mouth, the taste salty and obscene.
You groaned around him, lips stretching, tongue flattening under the thick, salty weight. He barely thrust, just eased forward, but the size of him still made your throat protest. Bucky continued his slow, tortruous pace below, watching intently as Steve’s cock parted your lips, and the sight of it—his best friend fucking your mouth while he still pounded into your cunt—nearly undid him, you could feel it in the grip of his hands on your hips.
“Deeper,” Bucky ordered, and Steve obeyed. He slid in, careful but insistent, filling your mouth until you gagged, until your eyes watered anew. Steve slid in, your throat stretched, and the assault of it made you gasp around him, desperate for air, for mercy, for more. Steve petted your jaw, his other hand cupping the back of your head, and for all the brutality of the act there was infinite patience in how he held you there, letting you adjust, letting you learn the unique shape of his need. Somewhere above, Bucky laughed—a single breath of filthy awe, a marvel at the spectacle of you taking both their cocks at once like this.
The taste of Steve’s cum was thick in your mouth, the smell of sex and sweat and ozone burning in your nostrils. You wanted them both to know how much you liked this, how much you needed every inch of what they gave. So you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, rolling your tongue with just enough pressure to see the effect in Steve’s eyes—head thrown back, spine bowed glorious, hand clenching your jaw with a desperation that made you burn with pride.
Bucky’s cock pounded up into you from below, and Steve’s pushed into your mouth from above, and you—pinned, stretched, used—were nothing but bliss. The sensation was a hinge, your body swinging wild between the two of them. You felt the echo of your own heartbeat in your cunt, in your mouth, in every thrum of the mattress and grind of their hips.
Steve’s thrusts grew bolder, and at each push he eased a little deeper, patience thinning as your mouth softened to his shape. His voice, when it came, was raw and rough, “Fuck, fuck, you feel so good—” your name murmured as its own curse when it fell from his lips in this moment.
He spilled his seed down your throat, but not all of it. He pulled out and shot the rest over your breasts, warm rope after rope of it across your heaving chest as Bucky pistoned in even harder, the thudding slap of his hips the only sound in the world.
Bucky slammed harder, harder, until you felt the actual bruise of him inside you, some deep purple echo of the violence. He reached for your clit, pinched, and your body shuddered into another orgasm, spasms wracking you so hard you thought you’d bite your tongue. You moaned so sweet and so ruined as he flew over the edge.
Bucky’s cock throbbed inside you, a shuddering full-body tremor, and then he was coming, hips jammed flush as he spilled molten and messy into the deepest part of you. His moan was raw, unguarded, and he didn’t let up, kept grinding through every spurt, making sure you took every last drop. The pressure of it set off a chain reaction—your body seized, aftershocks tearing up your thighs and into your belly, squeezing around him in greedy, involuntary pulses.
Bucky’s head dropped back, his jaw flexing as he held your hips pinned. You watched him, glassy-eyed and adoring, as every muscle in his chest locked. “Christ,” he panted, eyes flickering to Steve, “This is unreal.” He pulled halfway out—slow, slow—then pushed in again, a wet, obscene sound marking every inch. “She’s still squeezing me, even after you ruined her.” Bucky’s grin was all teeth, all pride and filth. “Can feel your mess inside her, Steve. So fucking wet she’s dripping down my balls.”
You moaned in the hinge between them, wrung out and wild, as Bucky fucked you through the last quakes and Steve’s hand fanned gently against your throat, thumb pressing the pulse there like he wanted to count your heartbeats—maybe hold them for ransom.
Bucky let out a ragged exhalation and pulled out, the head of his cock dragging on hypersensitive nerves, leaving you gaping and gasping and dripping. Bucky didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction. Instead, he watched the spill with a sick, loving sort of pride, then reached down, scooped his own cum with his fingers and smeared it over your breasts, painting you in it, mixing it with his best friend’s seed until your whole chest was slick with it. He held you there for a moment, painted and panting and caught in the liminal pleasure, before tilting your face up and licking a stripe from your collarbone to your jaw, tongue lazy and flat. Bucky’s mouth found yours, and you tasted the salt of Steve and yourself on his lips. You kissed him like you were dying, and Bucky kissed you back harder, swallowing you whole.
Steve’s voice burrowed into your ear with shocking gravity, arms closing around your limp torso as if to protect you from the world outside this narrow, unrepeatable moment. “You are so fucking beautiful ruined like this,” he said, voice half-reverent.
Bucky’s thumb pressed under your chin, tilting your face: “You want more, don’t you?” You did. That was the devastating truth of it. Even as your body ached and stung from orgasm, you wanted all the ways they touched you, every version of this night.
“Are you sure, Buck?” Steve asked, incredulous.
Bucky’s laugh was a bright, sharp crack in the haze, so full of delight it rang in your bones. “Oh, sweetheart. Steve has no idea what you’re capable of after a few more rounds.”
He bent over you, hands braced by your head, and pressed a kiss to the center of your brow—a benediction at odds with the lazy trail of his hand down your body, cupping your breast, then skimming the mess he and Steve had left there. He rubbed their slick together with an idle curiosity, like a child finger-painting, until Steve’s hand joined his, pinching a nipple between two careful fingers and rolling it until you arched up, spent muscles clenching with electric aftershock.
“We could let her rest,” Bucky said, tongue laving your earlobe as he spoke, “but why waste a perfectly good afterglow when you haven’t even fucked my wife in the shower yet?”
WE ALL KNOW I'M RARELY CAPABLE OF CUTTING SOMETHING DOWN
SO
I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAPPY/RUINED RIGHT ALONGSIDE ME.
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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For @fluffyjuly Day 9 - Blanket Nest | “Stay with me?”
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts "dance with me.” - “There’s no music.” - “There doesn’t have to be.” /
Masterlist | Marvel | Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Bucky Barnes
The wind whistled through the trees around your little cabin, picking up the leaves that lay scattered on the ground still and churning them into eddying patterns beyond your window.
It was far more than you'd ever hoped for, when you'd left the facility with James all those months ago. Far more than you could've ever hoped for your pup.
They'd tried, while you were captive, to make it happen between you both. So many cold rooms and so much pain. But it'd been so easy out here. So natural for you and for your wolf, to allow your instrincts to take over and your body to open to this new life.
Your hand drifted to your swollen belly. Not so big, yet, but big enough that you sought comfort at every opportunity.
James had searched for more blankets than you'd ever seen, even his friends had brought some. Though they'd left these tentatively at the edge of your clearly in a large plastic bag, waving their hands slowly in greeting before backing away.
They were kind, you were sure, but it was too much for your wolf. Her pawing at your mind, pacing in anguished circles at the thought of them taking your pup away. No matter how many times James assured you that it wasn't going to happen.
You'd used the blankets to make the huge nest that you found yourself snuggled up in. Perfectly placed on the middle of the bed James had found for you back at The Compound, a place you'd never really visited but that sotunded awful.
You were drifting into another nap when James gently pushed the door opened.
"Hey, baby, how're you feeling?"
You have him a wan smile, still tired from a morning spent throwing up and trying to inject the rehydration medicine James had brought you.
"Sleepy."
"Do you wanna be sleepy on the porch, it's nice out?" He held the door open, letting the warm breeze into the cabin along with a few stray leaves.
"Maybe."
That was good enough for James, who was with you in two strides, lifting you up with a secure arm tucked against your back, the other under your knees.
Instantly, you snuggled into his neck, breathing him in and letting your body relax into his hold.
He set you down slowly, lowering your feet so that you remained pressed against him the entire time. The gentle roundness of your belly keeping you slightly further apart than you'd like.
"Missed you today, 'Mega." He kissed your temple and cheeks, behind your ears, and nuzzles his bite on your neck.
"Missed you too Alpha, the winds been singing today."
"Yeah?" Bucky smiled down at you, cupping your cheeks. "Dance with me then."
"But there's no music," you smiled back, he could be so silly, your Alpha. How could you dance without proper music!
"There doesn't have to be real music, besides you just said the wind's singing."
He gave an exaggerated bow and then reached for your hand, you let him twirl you towards him. The wind picked up again, making his long hair fly out from behind his ears, twisting around his face while he led you in a slow, clumsy, waltz around the porch.
"If you want real music, I could get you a radio." He offered.
Always the hunter, even if it was just for your whims.
"That's okay, I'd rather you didn't go out again today."
"Okay, I don't need to go."
"Are you sure? You'll stay with me? No more meetings and training and Steve and Sam?"
"No more of anything but you." Bucky kissed you again, hands tilting your face towards him, his whole body surrounding you. And you felt safe, this was your nest, not just the blankets, the cabin, James, his arms and loving kissing.
In your belly, the pup pushed outwards and James slid his hand down to the little foot kicking against you.
A/N-> @tylaellenwilson thank you for the beautiful request🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes
Header made by my friend / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator
You were running around and playing in the compound like you always do. You stopped in the hallway next to the door of the conference room. The door was open and you could hear your brother talking to Steve and Sam. You know it’s not nice to eavesdrop on people’s conversations. You were told that many times. You weren’t meaning to overhear what Bucky, Steve, and Sam were saying. It just sounded like you were the conversation topic just from the way they were talking.
“She’s been really stubborn lately. I’m running out of patience.” Bucky says.
“You know how she is, Buck.” Steve says.
“She’s always stubborn.” Sam says.
You felt your heart break into millions of pieces. Your eyes teared up and you ran straight to your bedroom. You slammed the door shut and threw yourself on your bed and started crying into your pillow. You were also wondering why your brother would say something horrible like that about you. You can be stubborn at times, but you haven’t been stubborn lately. Meanwhile, Bucky, Steve, and Sam are still talking about who’s stubborn and that person is not you.
“Sometimes I can’t keep up with her.” Bucky says.
“We can’t either sometimes, but we still try.” Steve says.
“Just try one upping her. That’s what I do.” Sam says.
Bucky hums to himself, thinking about it.
“That actually might work. I might have to try that.” Bucky says.
“Let us know how it goes.” Steve says.
Meanwhile, you’re still in your bedroom. You stopped crying a few minutes ago. Now, you’re lying on your stomach on the floor and coloring in one of your many coloring books. You’re still upset about what you think your brother said about you.
Later, around dinner time, Bucky realizes that he hasn’t seen you in a while. He didn’t see you playing in the lounge room like you normally do. So, he went to your bedroom to see what you’re up to. He opened your bedroom door to see you on the floor coloring.
“I was wondering where you were, kiddo.” Bucky says.
Bucky walks over to you and sits down next to you on the floor.
“You’re quite the little artist.” He says as he watches you color.
You didn’t say a word. You just continued coloring.
“Are you not talking, because you’re focused on coloring?” He asks.
Again, you didn’t say a word. You just nodded your head yes.
“I get it. You don’t want any distractions when you’re busy doing something.” He says.
You still didn’t say anything.
“I hate to take you away from your coloring, but it’s time for dinner.” He says.
You didn’t say anything. You quietly put away your coloring book and coloring supplies before following your brother to the kitchen for dinner. You silently sat down at the table while Bucky brought you dinner. You continued to ignore him while eating dinner.
“You’re quiet tonight.” Bucky points out.
“Just hungry.” You mumbled.
Bucky nods. He knows how you get when you’re hungry. You barely said anything else to him for the rest of dinner. After dinner, he always lets you have dessert, which is ice cream. Again, you ate quietly. Afterwards, you got cleaned up and put on your pajamas. You went to the lounge room to watch a movie like you do every night before you go to bed. You put on one of your favorite movies and got comfortable on the couch. You fell asleep a little over halfway through the movie. Bucky came into the lounge room to see you sleeping on the couch. He paused and shut off the movie before picking you up and taking you to your bedroom. He tucked you in and gave you a kiss on the top of your head.
“Goodnight, doll. See you in the morning.” Bucky says softly.
Bucky left your bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He went to his bedroom, which is right next to yours and went to bed himself.
The next morning, you woke up still upset about what you overheard your brother said about you yesterday. You got out of bed and got ready for the day. Then you went down to the kitchen for breakfast. You sat down at the table at the same time Bucky put your breakfast on the table in front of you.
“Good morning, kiddo.” Bucky says.
“Morning.” You mumbled.
Bucky frowns at the way you’re acting. You’re still acting the same way you were during dinner last night. He didn’t want to bombard you with questions while you were eating breakfast so he waited till after breakfast to talk to you. After breakfast, you tried to walk past him to go to the lounge room to watch cartoons, but Bucky gently grabs ahold of your arm and crouches down to your height. You squirmed in his hold to get free, but he didn’t let go.
“Hey, peanut. What’s going on?” Bucky asks.
“You said something mean about me yesterday!” You say, your eyes tearing up.
Bucky frowns in confusion. He doesn’t remember what he said about you that was mean.
“I don’t know what I said about you that was mean. Can you tell me what it was?” He asks.
“I heard you say to Steve and Sam that I’m stubborn and you’re running out of patience with me!” You cried.
Bucky’s heart breaks into millions of pieces and he stammers with his words for a couple seconds.
“Doll, that wasn’t about you. I was talking about someone else.” He says.
“Are you sure?” You asked.
“Yes. It was all just a misunderstanding. I swear none of it was about you. You know that I would never say anything mean about you.” He says.
“Oh ok.” You say.
Bucky wipes your tears away and hugs you.
“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice muffled against his shoulder.
“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Misunderstandings happen.” He says.
“Oh ok.” You say.
Bucky pulls away from the hug to look at you.
“You’re a good kid and I love you.” He says softly.
Who's this and why does he find you in a bikini on the private beach?
xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦
Hi, my lovely Wetnessday Anon ☺️🩷
Cooked mermaid
Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: Soft barely dark Steve (just a smidge dark, tiny bit). Meet cute. Bikini mishap. Cheeky Steve.
word count: 1.4k
Most people viewed seaside towns as a place to go on vacation, or to invest in properties to increase their wealth. Especially in a place like this, where the stunning beach houses studded the coastline like diamonds on a golden collar.
For you, a seaside area full of rich residences and beach attractions meant a potentially better salary in the summer season.
The money you'd make here, you planned on using to get yourself into the best cooking academy there was. You were already a gifted cook, but the title of a chef with a flourish from a distinguished institute would open many doors for you.
You just had to suffer a few months slaving in the kitchen of a popular restaurant, redoing dishes for snobbish trust fund narcissists and influencers who tended to send something back for merely not matching the color scheme they wanted.
But the money was really worth it, so you gritted your teeth and perfected each dish.
The other upside of burning your fingers for bored elites was the beach and the sea.
It took you two weeks to find a perfect spot for yourself. Not anywhere on the public beach that was overcrowded and noisy. It was a very long walk, all past the private beaches with their big signs announcing no one was welcomed there, but you finally found your little heaven.
A beach with no people, as well no warning signs telling you to fuck off before a bitchy lady of the house throws your poor ass off and threatens you with firing from your job for lingering on her pristine, rich sand.
Your tranquil spot was all sea, beach and a wide span of forest. A wild road led through the grasses and trees deep into the woods, probably made by the locals from a nearby village, who might come to this part of the beach, avoiding the town itself.
With a happy sigh, you spread out your blanket and tossed down your bag. You shimmied out of your dress and stretched happily. A few breaths of the warm, salty breeze and you ran for the water with a giggle.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Steve paused mid-step, taking a deep breath and filling his lungs with the familiar scent of pine mixed with sea salt.
He used to run across these woods as a kid, picking pine cones to later throw into the bonfire, or taking them straight to the beach and using them to adorn the sandcastles that he built.
These lands belonged to his family for decades. His grandfather built and rented the first houses along the coast, later developing them into a business that secured the family name for years to come.
It loaded the second branch of the family business, too. On the other side of the sea - darker than the deep waters, with income as golden as the sand.
Focusing on managing the business and politics of certain organizations forced Steve to stay in the city most of the time, or to travel across the continents.
It's been over a year since he took a few days to come here.
Barely after arriving, he changed his clothes and took his two dogs to once again find his peace and quiet. Baron and King ran between the trees like wild pups, losing their usual lethal intensity that matched Steve's persona in the city.
But suddenly they paused.
Steve noticed how both dogs' heads titled slightly, then they were off running down the sandy path toward the beach.
They didn't barge onto the beach barking, but they went straight for a splash of color that was someone's blanket and belongings on it. Baron snatched something into his mouth and turned back towards Steve.
King remained in place, taking watch.
Delicate, yellow fabric that Steve picked from between Baron's teeth turned out to be a short dress. Delicate, with a faint scent of sweet, juicy perfume.
Then a loud screech followed by a burst of laughter snatched his attention.
Steve already figured out someone was chilling on his beach, but he didn't expect the sight to entertain him as much.
You were coming out of the sea, wet and radiating happiness. The screeching and laughter surely came from you, and it took Steve a second to realize what caused it.
Your bikini top was untied; bubble pink triangles barely covering your breasts now that the string was loose.
When a wave hit and ruined your top, that's when you squeaked in surprise. Then you simply laughed at the situation.
You didn't bother to cover yourself with your arms. You were still convinced there was no one here, that you were all alone on this wonderful beach and thus losing your bikini top was rather hilarious, not embarrassing.
It took you a few steps onto the warm sand to notice a presence near your blanket. Two dogs that looked massive and potentially able to maul you, though they stood in place, just watching you like you were a silly spectacle.
And a man.
Taller than you, with an impressive body clad in simple sweats and a t-shirt. A change from all the pressed linen and old money aesthetic most men in the seaside town presented.
He was holding your dress in one hand, his other hand tucked into his pocket. His eyes twinkled in amusement as he looked directly at you. Not even bothering to hide the fact he checked out your boobs.
"Not only it's not a nudist beach," his voice was pleasantly masculine - deep, yet velvety, "it's also a private one. So it's a double misdemeanor."
For a few seconds you just stared at him, before your brain caught up with the situation.
With a squeak (which Steve found most cute), you crossed your arms over your chest to cover yourself.
You made a step forward, but paused when you remembered about the dogs. They still didn't move from their spots. Not a single growl came.
"It's okay, they won't harm you." Steve assured you. "Not until they're ordered to. And I don't think your little crime deserves a punishment so gruesome, pretty mermaid."
He handed you your dress without any disgusting bargaining, or lewd comments. But he did keep his eyes on you when you turned your back to him and slid it on, covering yourself.
"I didn't know it's a private beach. There's no sign." You blurted out, facing him again.
"Ah." He nodded, calm and friendly. "Rarely anyone comes so far out here. They stick to their tiny slabs of ownership. Others simply know not to go beyond the red pine."
He motioned at the characteristic tree in the forest line along the beach. Not only it was somehow a rusty red color, but also the pine was curved forward at the bottom, as if the tree was kneeling.
"You a tourist?" Steve asked, scratching Baron on the head when the dog nudged his leg.
"Not exactly." You rubbed your hands over your thighs nervously, feeling uncertain, as well realizing your dress was starting to soak up all the water from your body.
Covered or not, your nipples were going to be visible any second now.
"I work in one of the restaurants for the summer," you admitted.
"A cook?" At your nod Steve smiled. "How about you tell me which restaurant you work at, so I can come for a meal and you serve it to me yourself. As penance for trespassing."
You hesitated. The man didn't appear bothered by your presence on the beach, turning it into a harmless situation. But what if he was a vindictive asshole, who would come to your workplace and get you fired?
Studying him for a moment, you couldn't find it in yourself to be that suspicious of him. Perhaps, you were a little blinded by his stupidly handsome face, those blue eyes you could get mesmerised by, the smile that threatened to melt away your bikini bottom.
You told him where you worked, as well the fact you had a day off, but would be back there tomorrow.
Steve was going to be there, just like he said. And you would prepare his meal and bring it to his table with a shy smile. The main chef, as well as the restaurant's owner, would hear high praises about your skills.
Steve would be coming to that place every day for a whole week, asking for you specifically to make his meals and serve them. Each chunk of interaction and conversation at a time, he would be preparing a detailed plan regarding your future.
Not changing it for you, simply... capturing it in his own bubble.
You have too many things you need to get done. You get overwhelmed and just completely shut down, almost like you’re having adhd paralysis. Every time you think about everything that needs to be done, you start to get anxiety, until you finally start having an anxiety attack. Bucky sees this and talks you off the ledge, so to say, and helps you find your focus.
Because this is me right now and I have no one and can’t focus to save my life right now….
Breathe and Relax -> Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings-> Fiancée!Bucky Barnes x Fiancée!Female Reader
Summary-> You have so much to do and Bucky tries to get you to breathe and relax.
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes
Header made by my friend / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator
You haven’t relaxed in what feels like forever. You constantly have something to do. Planning yours and Bucky’s wedding. Yes, Bucky is helping you. You don’t have a problem with that. You’re enjoying that. Now, you’re on the phone with your boss. She called you and asked you to work tomorrow for one of your coworkers. Tomorrow is your day off. So much for relaxing.
“I’ll be there.” You say.
You hang up the phone and set it on the table. Then you freeze. It wasn’t a moment of realization thing. It was more like you were just thinking about how much you have to do. Wedding planning and work tomorrow. You felt your chest tighten and your breathing became uneven and heavy. Your eyes teared up as well. Lucky for you, Bucky got home in time before your anxiety attack got worse. He heard what sounded like you gasping for air. He ran straight to the dining room where you are. He quickly noticed that you were having an anxiety attack. He rushes over to you and sits down next to you.
“Can you hear me?” Bucky asks.
You looked at him and nodded.
“Try to breathe.” He says.
“I-I can’t!” You exclaimed.
“Yes, you can. Just copy me. Ok?” He says softly.
You copied Bucky’s breathing patterns, taking deep breaths. Your breathing slowly went back to normal. Bucky wipes your tears away.
“What caused your anxiety attack?” Bucky asks.
“I have so much to do. Wedding planning, which I love. On top of that, I just got off the phone with my boss and she told me to work for one of my coworkers tomorrow.” You say.
“Tomorrow is your day off.” He says.
“I know.” You say.
“You told her no, right?” He says.
“I told her yes.” You say.
“Doll.” He almost whispers.
“I can’t tell my boss no, Bucky.” You say.
“In this case, you can. Call her back and tell her to have someone else work tomorrow.” He says.
“I can’t do that.” You say.
“Yes, you can.” He says.
“You can, doll. You’re running yourself ragged. You need to breathe and relax.” He says softly.
“I can’t breathe and relax, Bucky! I have so much to do!” You exclaimed.
You felt your chest tighten and your breathing becoming uneven again. A new wave of tears filled your eyes.
“Breathe.” Bucky says softly.
You took deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal again.
“C’mon.” He says softly.
Bucky helps you stand up and he picks you up bridal style, carrying you to yours and his bedroom. He gently laid you down. He laid down next to you and wraps his arms around you.
“Relax.” He says softly.
“I already told you that I can’t.” You say.
“Try.” He says.
You huffed and tried to relax. Bucky’s hand gently rubs your back to help you relax. You fell asleep after a little bit. Bucky felt you relax in his arms.
“I’ll be right here if you need anything, babydoll.” Bucky whispers, kissing your forehead.
You got a lot of sleep that night. You felt refreshed when you woke up that morning. You got out of bed and followed the smell of coffee and breakfast to the kitchen where Bucky had both ready.
“Good morning, doll.” Bucky smiles.
“Good morning, honey.” You smiled.
You sat down at the dining room table at the same time Bucky brought coffee and breakfast to the table. Then he gave you a morning kiss.
“How did you sleep?” He asks.
“Better than I have in a while.” You say.
“Good. That’s good.” He says.
You caught a glimpse of the clock on the microwave, your eyes widening when you saw the time.
“Shit! I’m late for work!” You say.
Bucky gently grabs your arm before you could stand up.
“I called your boss for you and got you your day off back and got you this week off. I also got you an extra few days off for our honeymoon.” He says.
“You did that for me?” You asked.
“Of course I did. I’ll do anything for you.” He says softly.
Bucky is the sweetest man ever. You don’t know how you got so lucky with him. You couldn’t help but tear up. Bucky moves closer to you and wraps his arms around you when you started crying. He said nothing but sweet and soft words to you as he comforted you.
“You’re so sweet to do that for me.” You say, your voice muffled against his chest.
“Like I said, babydoll, I’ll do anything for you.” Bucky says softly.
You sniffled and looked up at your fiancée. Bucky wipes your tears away, which made you smile.
“All I want is for you to take time for yourself and relax.” He says softly.
“I’ll try.” You say.
“That’s a good start.” He says.
You sniffled and looked up at your fiancée. You smiled when Bucky wiped your tears away. Then he kisses you softly and sweetly.
Cameron has a plan, he has a question, he has a ring. He just needs to get his words out.
Content: fluffffffff, kisses, pet names (Cam, Cammy, baby).
For @fluffyjuly day 7 - Happy Tears | “Will you marry me?”
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts - How long were you standing there?” / “Long enough.”
Masterlist | Cameron Cassmore
"Just ask her," Tova murmured, smoothing down Cameron's tie. "You already know she loves you, you're moving in together, she said yes to that and she'll say yes tonight, I'm sure of it."
"What if she's not the type, you know, or she thinks I'm unreliable, or that I'm not successful enough or what if she secretly hates my music and —"
"Cameron, if she was the kind of woman to care about being successful for the sake of it, then I wouldn't approve. She's a nice girl, she loves you, didn't she get you that gig in town? She loves your music."
Cameron sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.
"Now, I'm going to be out. So you have the place to yourself. Be brave, my darling boy, okay, be brave and...make sure you kneel properly, it's the right way of doing things. Don't wuss out, get on the floor."
Tova kissed him on the cheek and took her coat, waving as she left.
Cameron took a deep breath and went out onto the deck. This was why he'd borrowed Tova's house for the night, the stars looked beautiful here, especially with just the hurricane lanterns lit by candles.
He'd got your favourite from the restaurant in town, still warm thanks to the oven, and a bottle of champagne hidden in the fridge.
Cameron went to the door to look in the mirror, fussing with his hair, only to be surprised by a familiar face smiling at him from the kitchen counter.
"Baby! How long have you been here?"
"Long enough." You smiled softly, "I got here just before Tova left, she let me in."
"Did you…hear us talking?"
"No," you said, sincerely.
"Good, good, right. Okay." Cameron looked around him, flustered, this wasn't going to plan.
"You okay, Cam? You seemed a bit…wound up?"
"No I'm fine, I'm good, everything is fine. Do you want dinner?" He asked excitedly, pointing at the oven, "I got dinner, I didn't make it, don't worry."
"I'd love dinner," you came around the counter to kiss his cheek, "shall I go out on the deck? Or do you want help."
"Ah, go on the deck, yeah, wait on the deck."
Giving his blushing cheek a last kiss, you left him to it.
Cameron had never been this anxious in his life, the cutlery clattered against the plates he carried, he was sure he was sweating despite the evening being cool and he was convinced he was going to mess this up entirely.
"Oh my god, you got my favourite! I need this today!" You clapped your hands together looking at the plate, "gimmie gimmie!"
"It's hot, careful." Cameron used a tea towel to turn the plate in front of you, setting it just so next to the salad and a glass of white wine.
"Thank you, Cammy." Instead of picking up your fork you took his hand, tugging him closer and snuggling into his side.
After, very reluctantly, letting him go, he joined you at the little wooden table and you ate together quietly. You told him about your day at work, how your boss was being a pain and you were excited for the weekend.
He stayed mostly quiet, his right hand clutching his fork so tightly that it clanged on the plate. His left was tucked into his jacket pocket, holding the little velvet box hidden inside.
After you finished, you lent back in your chair, closing your eyes and enjoying the sound of the water hushing over the rocks below. It was truly dark now, pitch black except for the stars and Cameron thought you'd never looked more beautiful.
He'd planned so much of what he wanted to say, about how you made him feel safe, safe to express himself and safe to love. How you made him happy, even when he was stuck in his own head and spiralling.
"You alright there, Cam?" You poked him gently across the table.
"What? Yeah, I was just thinking."
"About what?" You curled up in your chair, sipping your wine.
"About marrying you." He said quietly, thoughtfully.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh god, I wasn't supposed to say that, you weren't supposed to hear that."
"Kinda hard to forget, Cammy." You grinned, trying to keep yourself from dancing out of your seat. He'd planned such a beautiful evening, you wanted to see where he was going now.
"I — will you marry me? Shit, let me —" he pushed his chair back and knelt beside you, taking your hand and kissing your palm quickly before turning it over. "Please?"
Tears welled in your eyes, your hand shook, he really was doing this, it wasn't just a "pre-proposal are-we-on-the-same-page" conversation. It was it. He had asked.
"Please say something — oh wait, I forgot the —" he rumaged in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a little box, popping the top open.
Inside was a simple diamond ring nestled into the white pillow of the box.
"Cameron!" You grinned at him, "of course, yes, oh my god, yes yes yes!"
He set the box down just in time to catch you throwing yourself into his lap.
"Yes? You said yes!"
"Of course I said yes!"
Cameron held you tight, kissing your temple, your cheek, "you're crying?"
"I'm just so happy, Cammy, I love you so much."
He sat back, looking at your tear stained face, your wide smile, the look of pure joy in your eyes, and saw your entire future together.
Ooo can I please request a Lloyd Hansen x fem!wife!reader where she’s been really missing him because he’s working so much, so she goes down to the room he works in with all his employees and he’d immediately soften the minute he sees her🥹 His employees would be staring nonstop and it’d make Lloyd be a little testy with them and Y/n would get him to relax but he’d still put them in their place 🥹 Lloyd would decide him and Y/n need a vacation away from all his work and she gets to choose. They have a romantic vacation at the beach before staying at a fancy hotel. Maybe Lloyd gets a work call the next morning when they’re supposed to be going on a shopping excursion, but his phone call gets in the way and she gets upset with him and decides to leave without him. While she’s out shopping, she’s still really upset and isn’t really having fun because she wanted Lloyd to be there, and then suddenly one of his enemies grabs her and throws her in a van and they drive off, sending Lloyd a message about how they have his wife🥺 Lloyd would be livid and would also be upset with himself that she was out there alone 🥺 He gets all his men to help him track her down and he busts down the warehouse doors she’s being held in and spares them no mercy 🥺 He’d pull his poor injured wife into his arms and he wouldn’t want to let her go ever again and he’d do anything he can to make it up to her🥺
Never Mess With His Wife -> Lloyd Hansen
Pairings-> Husband!Lloyd Hansen x Wife!Reader
Summary-> Everyone knows not to mess with Lloyd’s wife, you, which is what one of his enemies learn too.
Warnings-> Fluff, Angst, language, kissing, crying, kidnapping, little bit of blood, pet names
A/N-> @kpopgirlbtssvt thank you for the beautiful request🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes
Header made by my friend / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator
Everyone knows better than to mess with you. Lloyd always makes it very clear to everyone. One day, you went into the main room while Lloyd was working and a few of his employees stared at you and gossiped amongst themselves the second you entered the room.
“Hi, sunshine.” Lloyd smiles.
“Hi, honey!” You smiled back.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a sweet kiss.
“I know you’re busy with work, but I was missing you.” You say.
“There’s nothing wrong with that at all, pumpkin. I love it when you come in here while I’m working.” He says.
You kissed him once more. Then Lloyd’s gaze drifted over to the few employees who are staring at you and talking about you.
“I’ll be right back, sunshine.” He says softly.
“Ok.” You say.
You took a seat while Lloyd went over to those few employees. They immediately stopped staring at you and talking about you when he approached them.
“Do you guys have a fucking problem?” Lloyd asks.
“No.” They answered at the same time.
“Then why the hell are you staring at my wife and talking about her?” He asks.
“She shouldn’t be in here while everyone is working.” One of the employees says.
“She can be a distraction.” Another employee says.
“My wife can be in here all she wants. If I see any of you staring at her and talking about her again, all of you will suffer the consequences. Do all of you understand?” He says.
“Yes.” They say at the same time.
“Good. Now that’s cleared up, I have more important matters to attend to.” He says.
Lloyd walks back over to you and holds his hand out to you. You put your hand in his and stand up.
“Where are we going?” You curiously asked.
“We, my darling wife, are going out to lunch.” Lloyd says.
You and Lloyd aren’t just going out to lunch. You and him are also going on vacation, which is a surprise for you. He already has yours and his bags packed and on his private jet, which is where you two are heading right now.
“Going out to lunch requires your private jet?” You asked.
“Yes, because not only are we going out to lunch, we’re going on vacation too.” He says.
You gasped excitedly and hugged him tightly.
“Wait. What about our things? We need to pack a bag if we’re going on vacation.” You say.
“I already got that covered and on the jet.” He says.
“Oh, really?” You say.
“Yes. All we have to do is figure out where we’re going on vacation, which is what you get to do.” He says.
“I get to choose where we’re going on vacation?” You asked.
“Yes.” He smiles.
Now, you’re even more excited than you already are. You and Lloyd got on his jet and you thought of a perfect location for vacation and that’s somewhere with a beach.
“Let’s go to the beach. The one we went to when we were on our honeymoon.” You say.
“Great choice, sunshine.” Lloyd smiles.
Lloyd told the pilot to go to where you and him went on yours and his honeymoon and then you guys were up in the air.
“I’m so excited!” You exclaimed excitedly.
“So am I.” He smiles.
Lloyd called the hotel ahead of time to book a room for you and him. The biggest hotel room they have to be exact. When you guys landed, you and him headed straight to the hotel.
“This looks exactly like the honeymoon suite we had on our honeymoon.” You say, looking around the hotel room.
The smile on Lloyd’s face said it all.
“No way.” You say speechless.
“Yes way.” Lloyd smiles.
You squealed in excitement and hugged your husband tightly and then kissed him.
“I just fell in love with you all over again.” You say softly.
“I always fall in love with you more and more everyday.” He says softly.
You kissed him softly before checking out the hotel room. Then you went out on the balcony to see the view of the beautiful beach. You leaned against the railing, admiring the beach for a moment. You smiled when you felt Lloyd wrap his arms around you from behind. He kisses your cheek softly before saying anything.
“What should we do first, Mrs. Hansen?” Lloyd asks softly.
You hummed to yourself as you thought to yourself.
“Let’s hangout on the beach today and we can spend the day shopping tomorrow.” You say.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” He says.
As you were about to go back into yours and Lloyd’s hotel room, he pulls you back to him and gave you a kiss. You smiled against his lips as he did so. Then you two got changed into swimsuits and went down to the beach. You two found the perfect spot to put yours and his things before getting in the water. The water felt cool.
“Baby, come on! The water is fine!” You say.
“I’m coming, sunshine.” Lloyd says as he walks towards the water.
You grinned when an idea popped into your head.
“I know that grin. What’re you up to?” He asks.
“Nothing.” You answered innocently.
You innocently walked over to your husband and acted like you were just standing in front of him. Then you playfully pushed him into the water. Lloyd grabs your arm, which made you squeal as both of you fell into the water. When you two came back up above the water, you started giggling. Then you swam closer to him. You put your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat in the water. Lloyd put his hands on your waist and kisses you softly.
“We’re going to have so much fun while we’re on vacation.” You say.
“Indeed we are, sunshine.” Lloyd smiles.
You and Lloyd had the best time at the beach. You two hung out on the beach till sunset and then you two went back to the hotel.
“What should we have for dinner?” You asked as you and Lloyd entered yours and his hotel room.
“I already ordered our favorites through room service. It’ll be here in a little bit.” Lloyd says.
“You’re the best.” You smiled.
You gave him a soft peck on his lips before both of you got cleaned up and put on comfortable clothes. Then room service finally arrived with yours and Lloyd’s dinner.
“I had a great time today.” You say.
“So did I.” Lloyd says.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” You say.
“Me too.” He says.
You and Lloyd spent the rest of the night cuddling and watching movies. When morning comes, Lloyd wakes you up by kissing your cheeks. You giggled softly when his mustache tickled your skin.
“Your mustache is tickling me.” You say.
You readjusted yourself on the bed so you’re facing your husband. Then you gave him a morning kiss.
“Good morning.” You smiled.
“Good morning, sugar.” Lloyd smiles. “I hope you’re ready for shopping today.” He says.
“I am!” You say excitedly.
You and Lloyd got out of bed and got ready for the day. You two held hands as you two walked out of the hotel and down the street.
“How about we get breakfast before we go shopping?” Lloyd suggests.
“I love that idea.” You say.
You and Lloyd went out for breakfast before shopping. Afterwards, you two went shopping. About halfway through the shopping spree, Lloyd’s phone rings. You immediately knew that it was a work call. You couldn’t help but get upset.
“Lloyd, you promised that you wouldn’t take any work calls and do any work while we’re on vacation.” You say.
“I know and I’m so sorry, sunshine. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Lloyd says softly.
Lloyd kisses your cheek before answering his phone. You sighed loudly before going off to the next store. Little did you and Lloyd know that one of his enemies is close by. His enemy had a few men posted in the area where you’re shopping.
“She’s on the move.” The enemy’s employee says into a walkie talkie.
A few seconds later, one of the employees grabs you and another one puts a burlap sack on your head. You dropped the bags you were carrying as you struggled to get away from them. You were thrown into the back of a van. You quickly took the burlap sack off of your head to see who just grabbed you and threw you into a van. You didn’t know who they were, but you immediately knew that they somehow have ties to one of your husband’s enemies. You tried to make a break for it before the van’s door was closed, but you were grabbed again. You struggled in the man’s hold. Then you were punched hard enough to knock you out. You were thrown back into the van and the door was slid closed and quickly took off. Lloyd had just got off of the work call and was about to put his phone back in his pocket when it started ringing again. He answered it.
“Hello?” Lloyd answers his phone.
“Hello, Hansen.” His enemy says.
Lloyd inhales deeply before responding.
“I’m busy. What the hell do you want?” Lloyd asks annoyed.
“Busy shopping with your wife?” His enemy asks.
“Never mention my wife again.” Lloyd almost growls into the phone.
“Did I touch a nerve?” His enemy asks in a mocking tone.
“Don’t think for a second that I won’t kill you if you say or do anything to my wife.” Lloyd says.
“You do that and you’ll never see your wife again.” His enemy says.
Lloyd’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach when he heard those words.
“What?” Lloyd asks.
“You heard me, Hansen. If you keep throwing threats at me, you will never see your wife alive again.” His enemy says.
“I swear if you do anything to my wife.” Lloyd growls.
“You’ll what? You won’t do shit now that you know I have your precious wife.” His enemy says.
His enemy hung up the phone before Lloyd could say another word. Lloyd’s heart pounds in fear. He gets his men to help track you down and then goes to find you. Meanwhile, you’re tied to a metal pole and sitting on the floor still knocked out. Lloyd’s enemy walks over to you, crouching down in front of you. He stares at you for a few seconds for slapping you across your face, which woke up.
“Rise and shine, Mrs. Hansen.” His enemy says.
You didn’t dare to say a word. You tried to wiggle your hands free of the rope, but you couldn’t. That’s how tight the rope is.
“You should know that getting free is useless for you.” His enemy says.
You ignored him and still kept trying to get free. Then his enemy grabs ahold of your jaw with a tight grip to get you to look at him.
“You don’t fucking listen, do you?” He says.
You tried to get him away from you by kicking him away. That didn’t work. That only made him mad. That earned you a punch in your face. You didn’t get knocked out again, making you cry out in pain. At least, not yet anyway, but you did get a bloody nose from it.
“This would go a hell of a lot easier if you corporate with me.” He says.
“Why the hell would I do that when you’re my husband’s enemy?” You asked.
His enemy chuckles sarcastically before punching you again. You cried out in pain again. The beatings didn’t stop there. He kept beating you till you were knocked out again. You were slouched against the pole. Luckily for you, Lloyd got there just in time. He busts the door open with his gun aimed out in front of him.
“Well, if it isn’t Lloyd Hansen.” His enemy says.
“Cut the shit. Give me my wife back.” Lloyd says, almost gritting his teeth.
“Now, why would I do that?” His enemy asks.
“Don’t make me say it again.” Lloyd almost growls.
“Or what?” His enemy asks in a mocking tone.
Lloyd looks over at you. His eyes went wide when he saw how injured you are. His mind made him think that you were dead.
“Don’t worry. She’s not dead. Yet.” His enemy says.
Lloyd’s breathing sounds angry now. Anger is coursing through his veins. He shot each and every one of his enemy’s employees before his enemy could even get his gun. When his enemy finally got his gun, Lloyd smacked it out of his hand and punched him, giving him a bloody nose. Then he grabbed him by his shirt.
“If you ever and I mean ever lay a hand on my wife again, you’ll regret it.” Lloyd says in a threatening tone.
“I’m not scared of you, Hansen.” His enemy says.
Lloyd punches him again, knocking him out this time. He let go of his shirt, letting him fall to the floor. Then he rushes over to you. He frantically untied you from the metal pole. Then he tried to wake you up.
“Y/N, wake up. I’m here.” Lloyd says softly, gently tapping your cheek.
You didn’t wake up, but you did say something incoherently. Lloyd felt relieved to know that you’re still alive.
“You’re going to be ok. I’m going to get you cleaned up. I promise.” He says softly.
Lloyd picks you up bridal style and gets you out of there. He took you straight to the hotel. When you two got to the hotel room, he gently laid you on the bed and then gets the first aid kit out of his bag. Yes, he came prepared. It’s better to be safe than sorry. He goes back over to you and sat down next to you on the bed. He was gentle with you as he cleaned your injuries. His eyes teared up as he did so. His breathing sounds shaking. He couldn’t help but think that this is all his fault.
“I’m so sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean this to happen. If I didn’t answer my damn phone, none of this would’ve happened and you would be fine right now. Please- just please wake up.” Lloyd says, his voice cracking.
You were still knocked out. Lloyd was by your side the whole time. You didn’t wake up until the sun began to set. You whimpered in pain as you woke up.
“You’re awake.” Lloyd says, sounding relieved.
“Why am I sore?” You asked, your voice a bit hoarse.
“You don’t remember anything that happened?” He asks.
“I don’t remember anything after getting knocked the second time.” You say.
Lloyd takes a shaky deep breath before telling you what happened to you.
“One of my enemies got ahold of you and beat you. I found you knocked out and tied to a pole.” He tells you. “I am so sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He apologizes again.
“Why are you apologizing, honey?” You asked.
“If I didn’t answer my damn phone, this wouldn’t have happened to you.” He says, his voice cracking.
“That’s not your fault, sweetheart.” You say.
“It feels like it.” He says.
“It’s not your fault.” You say again.
You reached a hand up to his cheek, gently caressing it. Lloyd leans into your touch. He closes his eyes, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m fine. I’m just sore.” You say.
Lloyd sniffles and nods. He opens his eyes.
“Come closer.” You say.
Lloyd leans over you. You grabs his head and kissed him softly. He gently puts his hands on your cheeks, being careful to not accidentally bump any of your injuries.
“I love you so much, honey.” You almost whispered.
“I love you too, sunshine.” Lloyd says just as softly.
So in regards to werewolves steve in "Scaretale", what happens if another female werewolf, or woman tries to hit on him?😱😱😱
All the better to eat you
Scaretale universe
werewolf!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings: Dark!Steve. Forced relationship. Possessiveness. Jealousy. Monsterfucking, no bestiality. Unprotected sex. Size kink. Dirty talk. Smidge of degradation.
word count: 1.4k
You didn’t understand why Steve’s face carved into wild displeasure, his clawed fingers clenching around your wrist tighter as he tugged you to his side and started marching home.
If anything, you should be the one glaring and huffing.
Maybe you even did a little. Of the glaring at least. Behind his back, when he wasn’t watching. He was too busy smiling at the werewolf female at the fruit stand. She was boldly flirting with him, treating you - his mate - like air. Her tits nearly fell out of the corset as she leaned over the stand to supposedly point at something.
When she gave Steve a small paperbag of gooseberries for sampling and he offered them to you, you just shook your head and dropped your gaze down.
You felt uneasy. Inside, you were boiling, desperate to break something. But you feared showing any of it.
With the female holding his attention, you didn’t expect Steve to suddenly snap into a pissy mood himself. Yet something clearly provoked him. He wasn’t even patient enough to continue in your pace, but picked you up and carried you home in long strides the last few meters. Inside the house, he put you down on your feet and glared at you.
“I’m your mate,” he growled.
“I know, Steve.” Enough time passed for you to accept that fate and experience a certain, warm security that accompanied it.
“Then why didn’t you stake a claim on me?” His blue eyes glinted with anger. A dangerous flicker moments before beastly ruin awaited you.
You might be still lost in the lands your werewolf lived and brought you to, but your mind wasn’t broken or unable to put together the pieces. It started at the fruit stand, so it had to be connected to it. Apparently, while you fumed that he was flirting with the werewolf female, Steve was angry with you not displaying jealousy.
“I’m human,” you gulped nervously. “She’s a werewolf. She could hurt me if I lashed out at her.”
“Nobody would ever hurt you, bunny.” Steve huffed, tracing your cheek with a sharp claw. “You’re mine. I’d rip out their throat for attempting to touch you.”
“Besides-” he stepped closer. Steve’s hand trailed lower, fingers brushing down the column of your throat.
“I meant: claim me, not fight over me.” His lips curved in a sharp, hungry grin.
You blinked up at him, processing his words. Which was proving harder to do as Steve pressed even closer to you. Heat of his body radiated in waves that your body was already too familiar with, conditioned to react with readiness.
“How?” Your voice wavered softly as scorching embarrassment spread inside your chest, rushing to the top of your head.
With how many times Steve growled possessive words when he fucked you into a broken mess, you knew the word claim in the werewolves’ understanding was always connected with physicality. And you knew he didn’t mean to simply hold his hand as a sign of said right.
“How do you think I would claim you, if anyone looked at you with interest?” Steve’s fingers curled around the front of your neck. His other hand tugged loose the ribbons tying your dress in place.
He asked about looking at you, because if anyone tried to touch you, he’d slaughter them.
“I’d kiss that sweet mouth of yours-” Steve pushed your dress off your body- “or grab that lovely ass-” he trailed his fingers down your spine and under the curve of your bare butt- “or drive my fingers beneath your dress-”
“I- I could kiss you,” your voice turned breathless as Steve’s touch drew wetness between your thighs.
Steve tutted, nuzzling his nose under your earlobe. He gripped one of your legs and lifted it slightly, opening you up so your clit grazed directly against his jeans.
“Now that I think of it, kissing is too tame.” He declared; you could feel his wolfish grin against your cheek.
“But you’re not ready for more, huh, bunny? Not ready to rub yourself against your mate’s cock in public and have me leak in my pants? My shy little bunny isn’t ready yet to grab a fistful of my hair and demand I fuck you full in public, so hungry werewolf bitches see that I already have a tight pussy to breed?”
A whimper. That was the only sound you were able to make as dirty words spilled out of Steve’s mouth and his pelvis kept grinding against your bare pussy.
“Until then, I’ll have to fuck you like my bitch before every outing, so that you smell of me and I smell of you, and there is no doubt whose pussy came all over me.”
In a sudden move, Steve kicked your legs from beneath you. Instead of dropping you onto the floor and pinning you to it, he pulled you with him as he went down. You landed on top of him, straddling his hips.
“Claim me now, bunny,” he growled, taking off his own sweater and tossing it aside.
His big hands landed on your hips. He purposely didn’t retract his claws, digging sharp tips into your skin. Sharply, he bucked up into you and a lewd moan spilled out of your mouth.
“Come on,” he urged you, using one of his hands to force your smaller hands to work his pants open.
His cock was already hard, slapping against your thigh as you released it. Thick and hot, and every bit as scary as the first time you saw it.
“It’ll be too big this way,” you bit your bottom lip, palming him with one hand.
When Steve had you on your hands and knees, it felt too big, but physically possible to take him. When he spread you on your back and tilted your ass up, it was somehow doable too. Or when he pinned you down and plowed you in prone bone, the stretch of him in your tightness brought you to near unconsciousness, but still proved you could take it.
With you on top, however, it seemed impossible to impale yourself on that cock.
“Your pussy is going to take it all anyway.” Steve’s tone was unyielding.
With a pouty sniffle, you lifted your hips up to line his dick with your entrance. The head barely pushed in and a shudder rocked your body. It opened you so much right on the first inches!
Steve squeezed your hips. You lowered another inch.
“All of it, bunny,” he growled, impatient.
Bracing your hands on Steve’s hairy chest, you rolled your hips, swallowing more of his fat cock. The stretch was reminiscent of the first time he split you on his dick.
A broken gasp puffed on your lips. Your eyes misted with tears - not from pain exactly, but the overwhelming intensity of it all. You caught Steve’s gaze; his blue eyes shining with predatory glee that heralded ruin.
He didn’t give you a chance to plead for mercy as he gripped your hips tighter and slammed you down, at the same time driving up into you.
“Ahhh!” You screamed, head thrown back, fingernails needling Steve’s chest.
Your pussy spasmed. A heartbeat later a gush of wetness welcomed brutal intrusion.
“Either ride me, like you own me, bunny.” Steve growled.
“Or I’ll fuck you like my little bitch. A cocksleeve for a werewolf’s fat cock and knot, and a cumdump to spill into.”
A quiver rippled through your body, both in response to his filthy words and to the feeling of unbearable stretch. You had difficulty lolling your head back forward, your gaze glassy.
Your thighs were burning. If you even found it in yourself to start moving and ride him the way he wanted, you wouldn’t hold the position for long. And the longer his cock was lodged deep inside you, the less you could think of anything - any comeback, any protest, any plead.
“What’s it gonna be?” He asked, bouncing you on him in a rough move.
You fell forward, dropping your weight onto Steve and burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“Your little bitch,” you whispered, ashamed of yourself for wanting it that way.
“Yes, you are.” Steve laughed cruelly. “My little bitch that takes it in all her holes and cums from it so sweetly."
"Going to bounce you on my cock until you cream all over it. Then you’ll slide your leaking cunt across my chest and sit on my face, bunny. I’ll have you coming on it. And when you’re steady enough on your feet, we’ll go back to the marketplace. Both smelling of each other.”
The Very Hungry Bookworm | Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader | Drabble
Surely ex- Hydra assassin, form congressman and current Thunderbolt can say no to his own children? Apparently not.
Content: tooth rotting family fluff, part of The Barnes Family world, but can be read standalone.
For @fluffyjuly Day 6 - Reading out Loud | “Just one more time”
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts “We’re running out of time. - Then don’t waste it.”
You can read The Very Hungry Caterpillar for free here!
Masterlist | Marvel | The Barnes Family | Bucky Barnes
Bucky closed the book, tucking it into onto the little bookshelf beside Natalia's bed.
He looked down at the children laying across his chest. His son, the perfect image of you, from the tip of his nose to his little toes, fresh from his bath after playing in the park all day. And Natalia, her curls damp behind her ears, blue eyes blinking up at him.
"Time for bed now," Bucky soothed.
"Just one more time, Daddy." Natalia pulled at the book again, knocking the trinkets and treasures she'd collected off her shelf.
"Sweetheart, it's late, Mommy said lights out before eight tonight, okay? You have kindy tomorrow."
"Eight?" She looked at the clock on her wall, each five minutes segment a different colour. "Then we have…five minutes!"
Grant stirred in his sleep, snuggling deeper into Bucky's side, and his chest squeezed at the feeling of his soft breath.
"I dunno little bookworm, five minutes isn't long and I have to get Grant to his bed."
"Please, daddy, please please please." She looked up at him with her big wide pleading eyes and he was powerless to resit.
"Okay, are you picking a new book? We need to be quick."
"Don't waste time, Daddy, this one, this one."
Bucky took the board book from her little hands and opened the first page.
"One Sunday morning, the warm sun came up and pop!" Bucky popped his finger in his mouth and Natalia giggled.
"Pop!"
Grant stirred, resettling himself, and Natalia did the same, grabbing at his shirt with her hand.
By the time the caterpillar had eaten "one nice green leaf" they were both fast asleep. Bucky turned the page anyway, he liked this one, liked the little face on the big fat caterpillar, liked the butterfly at the end and the way the children still loved him, even though he was different.
Carefully, he placed the book on the floor and slid Natalia onto her pillow. Grant squirmed, his face scrunching up, until Bucky lifted him up too and then he dropped his head onto Bucky's shoulder.
As he was heading for Grant's room, you appeared at the top of the stairs.
"There you are — oh!" You put your finger over your lips and started whispering instead. "I was worried you'd fallen asleep too."
"No chance." Bucky smiled, "they wanted extra stories, how could I say no."
He took Grant into his bed room and knelt slowly on the big planet Earth rug by his bed. He tucked him in, curled his fingers around his teddy and stepped back into your waiting arms.
"He's so cute." You hushed.
"They both are."
Across the hall you could just see Natalia's face relaxing into her dreams.
"I love you, Mr Barnes."
"Love you too, Mrs Barnes."
He kissed you on your temple, holding you close. "Now, I need a snack, that caterpillar one always makes me so hungry."
Raymond Smith x female reader; Dom!Raymond Smith x submissive female reader
summary: Raymond runs a an exclusive BDSM club, aside from certain other business. He cares deeply and firmly about the proper treatment of club's members and the rules. When you don't get what you need, he takes it into his hands to provide.
warnings: None in this chapter. BDSM. Risk aware consensual kink. Power exchange. D/s dynamics. Stern type of Dom. Each part of the story will get its own warnings.
word count: 1.2k
Author's Note: This is merely an intro to an expanded universe of the Ruby Garden. Raymond runs Black Diamond in England. He first co-owned it with Ari. For a change, the intro is all Raymond's pov, but future parts will be the typical Reader focused.
There's also guest appearance of another staple Dom at the Black Diamond - Simon "Ghost" Riley 🤭
Though Raymond valued the peace of his actual home, stepping through the ornate gates of the Black Diamond estate brought a similar sense of coming home.
The faint scent of leather, warm resins and cardamom that was a fragrance customized for the club and used in small amounts to entice rather than overwhelm. Surfaces were polished to perfection, allowing a near mirror reflection in the black marble and black glass. The same luxurious, dark aesthetic sprawled further into the club, with only the shades of members’ clothes bringing a splash of colour.
Raymond’s office was also dark, but less glamorous and more old fashioned with the oak wood, deep green suede of the armchairs, and rusty gold ornaments.
He didn’t expect Simon to change anything while he was gone, but it surprised him how not a single note of his trusted stand-in and friend’s persona could be felt in the office.
Simon was sitting behind the desk when Raymond entered. As usual, in all black: black t-shirt with sleeves stretched around his bulging biceps (which gave many submissives wet dreams), black cargo pants, heavy boots. And the skull-printed balaclava mask.
Simon might have been officially out of the military, but Raymond knew his team worked black ops still. It gave him much needed secrecy, while also adding to his brutal aura in the club.
“The place wasn’t blown up and Dicky Ricky’s body isn’t crucified at the gates,” Raymond gave a short round of slow claps. “Seems you weren’t as bad at minding the club as you threatened when I asked you to do it.”
“It was no fun. Everyone was scared and behaved themselves.” Simon shrugged, standing up.
Though Raymond didn’t ask him to, he moved out of the boss’ chair and took a seat in one of the armchairs on the opposite side of the desk.
“Which is also ridiculous-” he stretched his legs out, hooking one ankle over the other- “You’re more dangerous than I am.”
“Our appearances serve the both of us, just in different capacities.” Raymond said, taking his place. It felt almost as good as sinking into his favorite wing chair at home.
Spending the last four months abroad, dealing with sensitive business and securing particular alliances, wasn’t all that bad. Food in some places was divine; Americans really knew how to properly make a steak. The thrill of balancing threats and diplomacy rejuvenated his bones. And some conversations were truly pleasant to have.
Like meeting with an old friend and former co-owner of the Black Diamond, Ari Levinson.
“Not that you ever needed additional oil to your fuckin’ Greek god glow, but what creamy subby sucked you this mornin’ that you’re relaxed like a trooper post a first fuck after years in the trenches?” Raymond snorted, glancing at Ari over the rim of his glass.
Ari laughed, that easy, booming laughter of his that dropped panties and somehow made other men feel like grinning for no damn reason.
“My sub.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, very pleased with himself for that revelation.
Raymond paused before taking another sip of whiskey. He studied Levinson for a second then shook his head.
“Levinson settled down with some good girl, huh?” Raymond smiled knowingly.
Ari wasn’t against relationships. He was far from a cynic who didn’t believe in love. But his charming, playful demeanor veiled a deep intensity of a merciless Dominant. Not many submissives could handle that beyond two consecutive scenes.
“Who said she’s a good girl?” Ari grinned, his eyes twinkling with delight.
Raymond burst out laughing at that.
“You got yourself a brat!”
“The brattiest of them all,” Ari’s smile didn’t cease, instead turning into unveiled smugness.
Figures that the submissive, who not only could survive Ari’s type of fun and punishments, but also provoked him to go hard on her, would be the one to catch his interest permanently.
Raymond himself didn’t allow bratting in scenes with him. He dealt with brats in the club, if it was needed, catering to their need of being tamed. However, he himself held harsh discipline. Without violence, too. There were elegant methods to teach a submissive to follow rules and scrape their throat from begging for mercy.
“Any issues?” Raymond’s gaze slid from Simon’s covered face to the single file on the desk, then back to the man again.
“No issues. No problems. A riddle.” Simon put his hands behind his head and lounged.
“A riddle?” Raymond arched a single brow, not impressed by his friend’s apparently happy mood now that he could push whatever dire situation on him.
Simon recited a name. Your name.
“A newbie submissive. You approved of her membership right before leaving.” He explained. “A good girl. Quite shy and not much confident at first, but bravely participated in anything I directed her to do. It’s clear she approaches every game at the club with fear, but she doesn’t back out. She’s determined.”
“What’s the riddle then?” Raymond opened the file and flipped through the first few pages with basic data and contracts you signed.
“Lack of response from the Doms.”
At Simon’s words, Raymond’s gaze flew up in surprise.
Usually, anyone fresh caused ripples through the club. Like a new, shiny toy the others could play with. Of course, it all depended on the person and their energy. Not every dominant had to be interested in a new submissive. Just like a submissive wouldn’t be interested in all the Doms.
“She doesn’t draw interest. When she approaches a Dom herself, which we’ve been practicing a few times, she gets politely declined. Or, on occasions, politely welcomed, but the scene lacks what she needs.”
“And she’s fucking smart.” Simon continued, his tone sharpening with offence on your behalf.” Smart enough to know that when I order her into a scene with someone, it’s because I organized it, not because someone asked for her. Her pride hurts, but she agrees anyway.”
“She’s not a brat.” Raymond tapped a page with the list of your kinks. “Why don’t they want her?”
Simon sighed and changed his position. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and leveling Raymond with a look.
“One, I think quite a few of our Doms need to be put in BDSM summer school to be reminded that a scene works for both parties, not just to get their own kicks. Two, she’s physically responsive, but her emotional walls need scaling. None of the fuckers put any effort in that. Not even to break her shell with a proper spanking, so she could get some emotional release.”
“So she’s a little icy and instead of melting her, they crush her to refill their own glass.” Raymond’s jaw tightened, the blue of his eyes turning colder.
His gaze scanned your lists - kinks, soft limits, hard limits. Without taking his eyes off the files, he grunted at Simon:
“Be a good lad and share with the class what’s been bouncing in that skull of yours when it comes to solving this riddle.”
“Well-” Simon’s face was mostly covered, but even without seeing it, Raymond knew the fucker was smirking.
“-since she hasn’t met you, with you being gone and all, you paying her some attention would be genuine. Besides, those lazy plonkers would definitely start noticing her then.”
Hiii my fav writer! I have another idea to propose.
So.. the girl has bucky as her everything. One day she is crying because she feels alone and bucky hugs her to soothe her while saying “it’s okay, I’m here” and suddenly she screams at him “but you’re not real!” Because, bucky is only in her head from her childhood. Then Bucky slowy disappears because now that she realizes that he is not real until she tries to hard to make him comeback and he does. Then you can continue because I don’t have anything anymore 😔
Thank you so much😘😘
He’ll Always Be There For You -> Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings-> Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary-> Even though Bucky isn’t real, he’ll always be there for you.
Warnings-> Angst, Fluff, language, crying, pet names
A/N-> @ilurvsebastian thank you for the beautiful request🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes
Header made by my friend / divider made by me
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator
You’ve always had a big imagination. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s ok to imagine anything. Although, you do take your imagination a bit too far with a certain someone who’s not real. Not over the edge too far. Just a bit. That someone is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s your everything. Yes, you know he’s not real. You just like to imagine that he is.
One day, you were upset and crying about something. Bucky appears in your bedroom and lays down next to you. He wraps his arms around you to comfort you. You felt his arms around you. You felt the warmth of his body. That’s how real your imagination makes it.
“It’s ok. I’m here.” Bucky whispers.
You began to cry harder. In your imagination, he is there for you. In reality, he’s not. He’s not real. What you said next felt like an outburst, even though it wasn’t.
“But you’re not real!” You screamed.
Bucky slowly faded away after you screamed through words. You felt it. You turned over to see that he wasn’t there. Your eyes filled with a new wave of tears and your bottom lip quivered. Then a loud sob left your lips.
“Wait, no! I’m sorry!” You cried.
You thought apologizing would get him to come back, but it didn’t. You felt your heart shatter into millions of pieces. Even though he’s not real, you want him to come back.
You haven’t seen Bucky since that day, which was a few days ago. You want him to reappear. No matter how much you imagine about him, he won’t reappear. You have no idea how to make him reappear. Your heart keeps breaking at the thought of him never coming back.
One night, you were in bed on the verge of tears. You thought about the times Bucky had appeared for you. You also thought about him saying that he’s always there for you. If that’s true, then why isn’t he there for you and with you right now. That’s what made you break down in tears. After a few minutes, you thought of a way of possibly getting Bucky to come back. You sniffled as you sat up in bed.
“Here goes nothing.” You say to yourself.
You took a deep before trying to get Bucky to reappear. You’re not sure how it’s going to work, but it’s worth a try and it won’t hurt to try, right?
“Bucky?” You called out to him.
You waited a moment and nothing happened. He didn’t reappear.
“Bucky?” You called out a bit louder.
Still, nothing.
“Bucky!” You screamed. “You said that you would be here for me and you’re not!” You cried out.
A new wave of tears filled your eyes and you started crying again. That’s when Bucky reappeared.
“I am here for you.” Bucky says.
Your head shot up when you heard his voice. You smiled when you saw him. You were relieved that he’s there.
“You’re back.” You say.
“I am.” He says.
Bucky walks over to your bed and sat down across from you. He reaches a hand out to wipe your tears away.
“Where were you?” You asked.
“I was giving you some space.” He says.
“Don’t leave me like that again.” You say.
“I won’t do it again. I promise.” He says.
You smiled and patted mattress next to you. Bucky moves closer to you. You cuddled yourself against his side as he wraps his arms around you.
“I’ll always be here for you.” Bucky says softly, kissing the top of your head.
happy birthday, Steve Rogers!! 🥳🥳 thank you to everyone who sent in AUs and/or are joining in on my Steve Rogers' birthday across the multiverse event by writing a fic to celebrate our wonderful star-spangled man's birthday!!
my fics:
a birthday well spent [smut] sugar daddy au
birthdays aren't so bad [smut] CEO au
his little diamond doll [dark] mafia boss au
seeing his best girl on his birthday [smut, slight angst] infinity war era
the cowboy's best birthday [smut] cowboy au
what the professor wants for his birthday [smut] professor au
missing the fireworks [fluff] brother's best friend au
the best birthday present an ex-con could ask for [smut] ex-con au
everyone gets a birthday hug [fluff, slight angst] age of ultron era
every night is a rockstar's birthday [smut, dark] rockstar au
giving him a baby for his birthday [smut] dad's best friend au
fics by other writers:
The Full Birthday Experience by @stargazingfangirl18
Council Business | Loki x goddess!Reader | Drabble
Loki loves that you take such an active role in the New Asgardian council meetings, but he's still bored.
Content: small town cuteness, fluff, supportive Loki, kisses, dancing. Can be read as a follow on from The Old Gods and The New, or as a standalone.
For @fluffyjuly 5 - Unconditional Love | “I'll never leave you. I promise”
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts - 🪵 “You’ve been standing there a while.” / “I didn’t think you’d notice me.” / “You always look like you’re about to leave"
Masterlist | Marvel | The Old Gods and The New | Loki
"You been standing there for a while, are you even going to come over and join me?"
Loki's voice drifts through your mind while the watch the Asgardian court squabble, as usual, about the next town project.
Presiding over them all, Valkyrie rolls her eyes at you and gestures towards the long hall.
"Not until we get this funding issue ironed out."
You could practically feel Loki pouting as he propped his feet up against the wall of the hall, examining his fingernails.
"King, let's put it to a vote!" Your voice rang out in the overcrowded room, bringing hush to the meeting. "We have limited funding at this time, we want to ensure everyone's voice is heard and that we have provisions for all."
There was muttering in the first two rows.
"You've seen the two options behind us," you gestured at the glowing holograms floating against the back wall, "those who prefer option one raise your hands."
Townspeople began raising their hands and, with a flourish, Loki conjured a number.
"And now option two."
"Wonderful. We have a decision." Valkyrie clapped her hands together. "We will split the funding across two playgrounds, one for the town, and one for the new houses by the cliff. Now, let us draw this meeting to a close." She waved her hand and stepped down from the small dias stage, disappearing into the back rooms of the hall while the rest of the towns people filtered out.
"Thank the gods that tedium is over." Loki appeared at your side, pea coat hanging artfully over his arm.
"These meetings are important," you conjured your own coat and buttoned it up. "The town needs help, we have to look after the children too. You have to be involved, Lokes, it's important to them."
Loki watched the other Asgardians, and all their new townspeople, milling about in the square, strolling over to the Dog and Bilgesnipe.
"I know, darling, that's why I was here."
"Loki, you always look like you're about to leave. You have to behave."
Loki's smile grew, a boyish charm twinkling behind a sedir sparkle.
"Oh my Asynja, you know me better than that, I am entirely incapable of behaving myself," he said with a flourish, leading you out into the crisp evening air, "and unfortunately for you, that's why you love me so much."
You smiled too, allowing him to draw you into a slow spinning dance on the cobblestones.
"Besides," he held you closer, one hand on your lower back, pressing you against him, "I'll never leave you, I promise, you must remain with me for eternity."
"Eternity is it?"
"Of course, which, incidentally, is how long your council meetings go on for."
He tipped you back, kissing your cheeks and nose despite your playful protests.
Truth or Dare | Joaquin Torres x Reader | Oneshot 1.3k
Waiting for your pick up in a motel room, Joaquin suggests a sleepover and the real truths are revealed.
Content: 18+ for adult conversations, besties to lovers vibes, flirting, kissing, pet names (baby, Quino)
For @fluffyjuly Day 4 -“You love me?” "Always have"
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts → yearning / wanting something more / chasing a feeling
With a groan you flopped onto your side, hoping to hide the dopey grin finding it's way onto your face at the knowledge that Joaquín was so desperate to spend time with you.
Masterlist | Marvel | Joaquín Torres
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" You asked, sipping your beer and leaning back against the squeaky headboard of the motel twin bed.
"Yes!" Joaquín bounced excitedly on the other bed, popping open a bag of popcorn and holding it open towards you.
"Sam will come and pick us up in like five hours, we could just sleep…" You offered, finishing your beer and perching the empty bottle on the bedside table beside Joaquín's.
"No, come on, how often do we get to hang out anymore, I feel like I never see you, let's play sleepover games. I got all the good sleepver snacks, there's candy, popcorn, chips, the ice cream will be soft soon…" He looked up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you couldn't resist.
You could never resist anything to do with Joaquín, he was your achilles heel, your kryptonte, that's how you'd ended up in a motel in the middle of nowhere in the first place. Agreeing to tag along to help on a recon.
"Fine, fine, but just for a bit and I want to nap on the jet, deal?" You held your hand out, pinky finger extended, and Joaquín gripped it with his own, the curl on his forehead bouncing with excitement.
"Pinky promise you can have a nap on the jet. Now, let's play truth or dare!"
"Alright, truth or dare."
"Dare," Joaquín said, his eyes twinkling.
"I dare you to send a mirror pic to Sam."
You'd assumed he'd be embarrassed, but the continuing twinkle in Joaquín's eye made you think it was a poor choice.
"Too easy, I send them to him all the time, show him what he could achieve if he worked harder." He laughed and you kicked out at him from your bed.
"Idiot."
Joaquín rolled onto his back and scrolled through his phone for his preferred picture before announcing none of them would do; he grabbed his basketball shirt and tugged it up to his face.
"What are you —"
Biting the seam to hold it up, Joaquín gave the camera a cheeky wink and a peace sign before letting his shirt go again.
Dry mouthed you searched for your beer to hide behind, heat creeping up your spine at the realisation it was empty and there was nowhere to go.
"There, done. Truth or dare?"
"Uhmmm — dare I guess."
"I dare you to hide a swear word in the mission debrief."
"Fuck, Quino, you're gonna get me fired!"
"Nah, Bucky'll think it's funny…it has to be fuck now you've said it."
"Damn it." You pulled out your tablet and clicked away the mission debief hiding "fuck" at the bottom before setting the text to white. "Right, done. Truth or dare?"
You carried on for a few more rounds, darling Joaquín to steal a soda from the machine outside, showing him your last three DMs in Instagram, until it felt like you might be running out of steam.
And then he said it, the first "truth".
"Truth."
There'd been one thing you'd been dying to know for weeks now.
"Why did you break up with Cindy from the hanger?"
"What?"
"You heard me, you guys were cute and then you dumped her and moped about instead. You never told me why."
"Oh." Joaquín went uncharacteristically quiet. "I — just wasn't feeling it anymore. "
"You weren't feeling it?"
"Yep, now truth or dare."
"You know that was a shit answer, do it properly."
"Ask me something else next time. Truth or dare."
"Truth."
"Why don't you date anyone?"
"That's a stupid truth." Panic welled in your throat, you knew why, you were fairly sure he knew why too.
"Then tell me."
"I just…don't feel it."
"Bullshit I caught you making out with that guy who refuels the engines at th Christmas party, and you danced with whats-her-face from the Halloween trunk and treat. You're honestly telling me you "weren't feeling" any of that? You haven't so much as looked at anyone since...well, since Cindy and I ended things."
"If you weren't feeling it with Cindy, I wasn't feeling it with them." You said decisively.
Joaquín narrowed his eyes undeterred and sat up, making his twin bed creak, "truth."
"Fine," you sat up too, your own bed sagging in the middle, and faced Joaquín head on. "Why don't you date anymore?"
The air in the room felt thick and you swallowed, wishing you hadn't chugged your beer so fast.
"Because I don't want to date and fuck around, the next girl I go out with will be my actual girlfriend."
"How're you gonna get there without daring! I stand by my earlier statement. Idiot!" You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he caught it in his mouth.
"I already know who it's gonna be, just waiting for the right moment." He shrugged, a confident smile on his face, but you knew him too well to accept it. There was something behind his eyes that looked vulnerable, the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek and tapped on the bedsheets. He was nervous.
"And who is it gonna be?"
"That's another question, it's your turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
You were sure he was going to get you to show him your terrible ID picture from last year or eat too many marshmallows, something to take the atmosphere out of the air. Joaquín was always good at reading your moods, cheering you up.
But he didn't.
He kept watching you with his dark eyes, "I dare you to tell me who you last thought about when you touched yourself."
"Torres!"
"Yes?"
"Well that's basically a truth for a start, and secondly that is — I can't tell you things like that!"
"Why not," he shrugged, "you used to. Before I went out with Cindy, you used to tell me everything."
"God — well, that was before." You were too hot and flustered for this conversation.
"Before what? Before I had a girlfriend? Well I don't anymore. Come on, is it still that guy from that film?"
"No, Jesus, just, pick something else. An actual dare."
"I dare you to get off. Right now. And then I'll hear this name for myself."
"Joaquín!"
"What!?" He gave you a cheeky smile and stole a handful of your popcorn, eating it with obnoxiously exaggerated enjoyment.
"We've been stuck on recon for days. Dare me to get off, I'm dying for it."
"I'm not daring you to jack off." You sank down into your bed, what you wouldn't give to see what he looked like in the throes of pleasure.
"Well, then you've got to tell me who you last thought about." He said, as if he'd won a great political debate.
"No."
"AHH so it's someone we know!"
"No!"
"It's not Sam, you said he was like a dad to you, unless that's a thing…no, no. Bucky? No, you said you did in basic but you got over it when you saw how he eats a burger —"
You grit your teeth, he was so close to finding out the truth, and there was a part of you that wanted it. Then at least this unbearable feeling would be over. It'd be a relief. Even if he'd never want to hang out with you again.
"Who else do we even know?"
"No one, because it is no one else."
"Well, there's — wait what do you mean?"
"Nothing I just meant there's not many people you can know as a superhero team and —"
"Is it me?"
The silence hung painfully between you and then Joaquin moved forward, cupping your cheek and drawing you off your bed and into his arms.
"Is it me, baby?" He'd never used this voice on you before, the soft pillow talk of the man who knew you in every single way but the way you wanted. The caress of his hands so familiar when you were training or fighting, but that felt so new now he was holding you like you were his.
"Joaquin." His name left you like a breath, and then he was kissing you, tugging you fully into his lap and knocking the popcorn onto the floor. You tumbled after him, smiling against his lips.
"I dare you to tell me how you feel." You whispered.
"I love you."
"You love me?"
"Always have carino. I dare you to tell me how you feel."
