𝐁𝐑𝐈. 🎱🍸🐆💋 @vo1dsgirl 22, latina, spa/eng, full time criminology student, part time writer and daydreamer, ferrari girly, charles leclerc's and lando norris number 1 fan, lewis pullman's wife, slytherin, scorpio, book lover, dark romance enthusiast with a huge obsession with rockstar and cowboy romance (save a horse, ride a cowboy!!!!), aaron warner's certified girlfriend!!!! in my shatter me era, coca cola, mac n cheese and romance movies ♡ slut for bucky barnes, fanfic!draco, ghostface!rafe and bob reynolds ♱ ˖ ࣪ . blog better in light mode!!!
LINKS ` ִ ☆゙ rules & guidelines ╱ masterlist ╱ side blog ╱ writing schedule ╱ add yourself to my taglists ࣪ ׅ ♱
requests are always open! please read rules and guidelines before requesting<3
this blog is +18, minors do not interact. ageless blogs and minors will be blocked.
Hey just checking in how are you💞💞 I’m guessing life is happening because there was no new dust & desire this week so I just wanted to say to take your time and not stress about writing/posting!! love uuu xx
hi my love, omg you’re so sweet thank you for checking in on me🥺 i feel so loved rn wth!! thank you, i’m okay!! i’ve been distracted planning a rhett abbott one shot and it’s been occupying my brain for a little too long lmfao, but i promise i will post ch9 for d&d today!!🤍 love u more ty for being so sweet ilysm!!!
It’s been years! Waiting for you to drop something 🥲
Have a fabulous day Queen 💜
i knooooowwwwwww im so sorry😭🤍 i’ve been leaving yall starving IM SORRY!! i promise ill feed you guys soon, im actually planning a rhett abbott dark romance one shot rn so stay tuned!!
Heey lovely! I’m putting myself to the taglists and was just wondering that do I remember correctly that you’ve said that dust & desire will have one or two more chapters? 🤔🤔
hi love!! thank you so much for doing that!!🤍 d&d as of right now has 8 chapters and my initial plan was for 10 chapters—depends on how the next chapters go i’ll probably add one or two more.🤍
Not a request, but I literally BINGED the entirety of dust & desire in a day!! I’m OBSESSED!! Your writing is so amazing, and I love it!!! Thank you for your dedication to the schedule, too!! 🫶
omg!! thank you so much!!!!🤍 this makes me super happy!! i’m glad you liked it, d&d is my baby and i promise i will post the new chapters soon!! thank you from the bottom of my heart ilysm!🥹🤍
hi babes! after long debates with myself (lol?) i have decided to make a google form dedicated specifically for my taglists. i’ve been getting bombarded with messages and comments from ppl who want to be tagged in my fics and i’m just doing this to keep everything organized and so that you guys can be properly added to the taglists (cause i already lost track of the amount of ppl and who wants to be tagged where lol sorry😭)
so here’s the google form, it will be linked in every single fic from now on and it’s also linked in the navigation post that’s pinned to my profile.
you can chose to be tagged in any or all my series, there are multiple options you guys can chose from and you can chose more than one.
please please please i know this might be annoying but i cant keep up with all the comments so it would be really helpful for me if you guys did this for me🥺
HOUSEOFAEGON EDITS ╱ WEST COAST SERIES, RHETT ABBOT X SURFER!READER
𓏲 ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪ LINK TO SERIES !!
SUMMARY: You're pure Malibu, a California girl at heart—sunshine, surfing, and saltwater running through your veins. Riding waves has always been second nature, but riding horses in dusty Wyoming? Definitely not your thing. When your family trades the California coast for the ranch life in Wabang, Wyoming, you clash immediately with the small-town culture and the cocky bull rider next door, Rhett Abbott. He’s brooding, possessive, and infuriatingly attractive, making you question everything you thought you wanted. Suddenly, you're caught between two worlds—ocean tides and dirt roads, California beaches and Wyoming nights, torn between homesickness and the magnetic pull of Rhett’s touch. They say home is where the heart is…but what happens when your heart belongs in two places at once?
STATUS: Work In Progress. This is chapter of 8 the Dust & Desire series, and must be read in order.
Pairings: Cowboy!Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader
Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI. no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, rough sex, semi-public sex (in truck!!!), unprotected p in v, possessiveness, jealousy, rage, hate sex (kinda), degradation kink (light), praise kink (light), alcohol use, verbal arguments, minor blood (biting)
With the appearance of: florence pugh as maya reynolds, wyatt russell as jackson reynolds, nicholas galitzine as tommy reynolds, michelle monaghan as delilah reynolds, tom blyth as jesse lott, sydney sweeney as rebecca ashford.
Summary: After eight years away, you return to your hometown for the summer—older, richer, and sharper than the girl who once ran barefoot through dusty fields with Bob Reynolds at your side. You left for NYU Law and built a polished, high-powered life in New York City. Bob stayed behind, taking over his family’s ranch and turning into something harder, quieter—hotter. Invited by his mother to stay at the Reynolds ranch, you walk back into a world that feels both foreign and familiar, dragging designer suitcases and memories behind you. But nothing is simple now. Not with the tension that crackles every time Bob looks at you like he’s still trying to hate you and can’t. Not with the heat that builds when old wounds surface and words go unsaid. Not when every glance, every touch, lingers on the edge of something you never really let go of. You’re not sure what’s harder to face—the past you walked away from, or the man who never chased after you… but might now.
Author's Note: i'm so sorry i didn't post this chapter on dust & desire monday, literally the first day after posting the schedule and i failed miserably, i'm sooooo sorry. i got hit with a migraine that literally turned my whole brain into static BUTTT!! i'm back and here is chapter 8<3 this one wrecked me (honestly wtf all of them do), i had to law down with a cold rag on my entire body after finishing this. raw emotions you guys, my lips are destroyed from all the biting. thank you all for the love on this series, i can't express my gratitude enough, and thank you for being patient with me and screaming with me in the comments, you guys are really a big inspiration and my coping mechanism all at once lol chapter 9 coming next monday! as promised <3 thank you thank you thank you and i hope you guys like this one. love always, bri.
masterlist. dust & desire. ch 1: chanel & cowboy boots. ch 2: if you'd stayed. ch 3: the fire between us. ch 4: still not enough. ch 5: dead of night. ch 6: all that's left is ruin. ch 7: the ghost of your hands ch 8: mine to burn
The music inside The Chapel was loud, a blur of cheap whiskey and neon red signs, steel guitar bleeding through crackling speakers and boots thudding against wooden floorboards. Smoke curled through the air, the smell of fried food and bourbon hung thick in the air.
It was packed. Wall to wall with denim and cowboy hats and dirt and the kind of Southern bravado that tried so hard to look effortless. And every eye turned the second you stepped through the door.
You walked in beside Maya, slow and deadly. Black Versace clinging to you like it had been sewn into your body, tiny straps sliding against sun-warmed skin, the hem barely grazing mid-thigh. Your legs carved out by those six-inch Louboutins with the red soles flashing like a dare every time your heels clicked against the wood.
You looked like you didn't belong in a dirty bar in the middle of a Western town. But you didn't care. That was the point. You weren’t here to blend in. You were here to be seen.
Your hair was pinned back just enough. Lips were painted blood red, eyes winged with perfect black eyeliner, and your perfume? Chanel, of course.
Bob nearly choked on his beer.
He was standing near the bar, one arm braced against it, bottle in hand, mouth half-open like he'd forgotten how to breathe. His eyes locked on you and didn't fucking move. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Just watched, face unreadable, lips parted like he wanted to speak but forgot every word he ever knew.
You didn’t look at him. Not once. You didn’t need to. You could feel the weight of his stare like heat pressing into your skin, crawling up the back of your thighs, settling just beneath the hem of your dress. You could feel him watching you like a starving man watching a feast he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch or taste. His gaze was fire and possession and the kind of silence that only came before an explosion.
Maya grinned beside you, all teeth and trouble, and you heard Jesse whistle low from behind Bob. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, voice slow and slick like syrup, “if that ain’t the best thing I’ve seen all week.”
Tommy, posted up by the pool table with a toothpick in his mouth and a whiskey in his hand, elbowed Jackson like he couldn’t help himself, eyes flicking from you to Bob with that shit-eating grin that only brothers and best friends knew how to wear. “He’s so fucked,” he muttered, not even trying to hide it.
Jackson chuckled low, didn’t bother glancing up, because Bob hadn’t moved in ten whole seconds, just stood there like someone had knocked the wind out of him.
Still, Bob didn’t move. He didn’t acknowledge them. He just kept staring at you like you were the only real thing in the room. Like everything else had faded and all that was left was the woman he fucked against a barn wall and let walk away.
You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. You smiled, slow and subtle, and kept walking—hips swaying like you’d been born for revenge, like you weren’t even wearing a dress so much as armor. As a dare. As an invitation. Just for him. Every step echoed through the bar like gunshots. Every inch of bare skin a declaration. Every blink of your lashes a war cry.
You weren’t here to forgive.
You were here to destroy.
And he could feel it. Every second of it.
“God damn,” came the low, familiar drawl behind you. You turned your head just enough to catch him—Jesse Lott, all boots and attitude and Southern charm turned up to ten, leaned against a barstool next to the pool table like he was posing for a country music video. “If it ain’t Miss Manhattan herself,” he said, voice syrup-slick and shameless, “shinin’ brighter than Times Square on New Year’s Eve.”
You laughed, a low, sultry sound. "That's the best you've got?"
He grinned, cocky and crooked, pushing off the barstool with a roll of his shoulders. “Darlin’, that was me bein’ polite. You want the real stuff, I can turn it up. Tell you how that dress is so illegal it should come with a warning. How those heels oughta be classified as weapons.”
You raised a brow. “They are. Especially if a man keeps talkin’ like he’s tryin’ too hard.”
Jesse laughed, tipping his hat, his grin going wider. “Shit, now I’m flustered. You got me tongue-tied and we ain’t even danced yet.”
“You were never that smooth,” you said, pausing just long enough to let your eyes slide down the line of him, amused. “High school Jesse couldn’t even make it through math class without stuttering over my name.”
“High school Jesse was a dumbass,” he replied without missing a beat. “Grown-up Jesse, though? He knows a diamond when he sees one.”
You tilted your head, smirked, “That right?”
“Damn right,” he said. “And that diamond’s cuttin’ through this bar like a chainsaw. Don’t tell me you’re just here to break hearts and drink top-shelf.”
You glanced toward the bar. “I’m not picky. Long as the glass is cold and the company’s entertaining.”
“Sugar, I’m both,” Jesse said, offering his hand. “Let me buy you a drink.”
From behind you. Bob hadn’t moved.
Not once.
But you felt him. Like a shadow stretching long in your periphery. Like heat crawling up the back of your neck. Like a warning. His gaze was a touch.
A command.
A plea.
A fucking scream.
But you ignored it.
You turned to Jesse, slid your hand into the crook of his arm, and said with a smile that tasted like blood and lipstick, “Lead the way.”
Jesse guided you to the bar like he was proud, like the whole world needed to see who he’d just claimed for the next fifteen minutes. You leaned against the counter, one leg crossed delicately over the other, the slit in your dress revealing just enough to keep eyes wandering.
The wood beneath your palms was sticky with spilled drinks and years of sweat, but you didn’t care. You were too busy smiling when Jesse slid a drink toward you, too busy pretending not to notice the way Bob’s bottle tipped back a little too long as he watched you.
“To new beginnings,” Jesse said, clinking his glass against yours.
You met his eyes, raised your own. “To heartbreak and revenge”
He laughed like you’d told the best joke in the room, and you smiled back like you meant it. But you didn’t. You didn’t mean any of it.
Because the only thing you could feel was Bob’s stare boring through you, the tremble of that tension knotting tighter with every fake laugh you gave Jesse, every flirtatious brush of your hand on his arm.
You could see Bob’s grip flex around the neck of his bottle. You could see the way his chest rose, too slow, too deep, like he was trying to breathe through rage. Like he was trying not to come apart.
And that? That was exactly why you leaned in a little closer to Jesse. Why your fingers brushed his thigh when you reached for your drink. Why your laugh got just a little louder. Why you didn’t look at Bob—not yet.
You were here to make him burn.
And Bob Reynolds was already burning.
The door creaked open, you didn’t have to look to know who it was. You felt it—like the room dropped ten degrees and gained a fresh cloud of hairspray.
From the corner of your eye, you saw Rachel Ashford strut in like she owned the lease on the entire goddamn county. Her dress—tight, white, obnoxiously bright under the flicker of neon—clung to her like desperation. Every step she took made her platinum curls bounce like they were trained to do it on cue. Her heels clicked too loud. Her smile was too sharp. Her hips swayed like she was auditioning for a western soap opera called “Small Town Homewreckers.”
Oh, for fucks sake.
Maya groaned loudly, already propped on the bar next to you, reaching for her whiskey. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Who summoned the fucking ghost of bad decisions?”
You didn’t say anything, just took a slow sip from your whiskey, eyes narrowed, mouth twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk. Of course she showed up. Of course she did. She could smell attention like blood in the water.
Tommy, who had just been trying to light a pool cue on fire for fun, looked up and snorted. “Didn’t know we were throwin’ a welcome-back party for community regret.”
Jackson, nursing his beer and far too amused for someone who hated conflict, leaned toward him and whispered—loud enough for half the bar to hear, “You think she practiced that entrance in the mirror? Or does she just wake up with that much delusion in her bloodstream?”
Rachel clocked you immediately—but pretended not to. Classic Rachel. Her eyes flitted past like you were just furniture and not the reason Bob hadn’t blinked since you walked in. Every step she took was a performance: swaying hips, bouncing curls, bright-white dress so tight it looked vacuum-sealed. She moved like she was still the homecoming queen, like this bar was her kingdom and Bob was the crown she hadn’t noticed was already gone.
Maya, sipping her whiskey with the poise of a woman who’d throw hands in heels, muttered, “You smell that?”
Tommy didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. Rotting desperation.”
Jackson added, “With top notes of Daddy’s credit card.”
You choked on your drink and whispered, “We’ve got front row seats, people.”
Rachel headed straight for Bob like he belonged to her. Like you hadn’t fucked him against a barn wall just days ago. Like she hadn’t told you she’d “picked up the pieces” and bragged about touching what you left behind. She smiled like a snake in lipstick.
“Hey, Bob,” she cooed, her hand sliding onto his arm. “Didn’t think you’d be here tonight. You didn’t return my calls.”
Bob’s eyes didn’t leave you. Not once. His whole body tensed like he was trying not to react. Like if he looked at her, even for a second, the spell might break and she’d think she still had a chance.
Rachel noticed. Oh, she noticed. You watched it hit her—like the first crack in a porcelain mask. She smiled wider, too wide, and stepped in closer, her tits brushing against his arm, her voice dripping fake sweetness. “You look good. Still like your beer dark and your exes darker?”
His grip flexed around the bottle.
Maya muttered, “He’s gonna snap.”
“I hope he does,” Jackson said, finishing his beer.
You didn’t even look. Just lifted your drink, swirled the whiskey, and leaned into Jesse like he was a lounge chair and not a man actively flirting for his life.
You smiled slow, venomous. “If she touches him again, I’m skipping the drink and going straight for her extensions.”
“She got ‘em taped in cheap,” Maya murmured. “Won’t be hard.”
Jackson snorted.
Jesse, clocking Rachel’s presence and Bob’s volcano status, leaned in with a lazy grin. “So, sugar, we drinkin’ or dancin’?”
"Show me what you got," you smiled.
Rachel’s smile cracked further when Jesse’s hand slid onto your waist. She stared at it like it personally offended her. Bob hadn’t moved—still staring—but his eyes dropped to Jesse’s hand like it was a trigger.
You let Jesse guide you to the floor, the music shifting into something low and thick, a bassline you could grind your hips to. And you did. Jesse’s hand was on your waist, his mouth close to your ear.
“You’re doin’ this to hurt him,” he murmured, not judging. Just stating. "To get under his skin, aren't you?"
You looked over your shoulder, smiled. “And?”
"You're danger, Manhattan." He laughed. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
You leaned back into him as you chuckled, just enough to sell it. Your body moved like sin—slow, teasing, your hips rolling to the music like you were fucking the beat itself. Jesse was game, and he played along just fine—charming, cocky, smooth. He wasn't stupid. He knew what this was. He was the distraction. It was all for show.
And Bob? Bob had snapped.
You didn’t see it. You felt it. The shift. The tension thundering across the room like a storm breaking.
His voice cut through the crowd like a blade. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her.”
Everything stopped.
Jesse’s brows lifted, hands pausing but still on your hips. “Was that for me?”
You turned. Slowly. Bob was already crossing the floor, the crowd parting like they didn’t want to get caught in the blast. His jaw was locked, chest rising hard, eyes dark and deadly.
He reached for you. You shoved his hand away before he could grab you.
“You don’t get to touch me.”
His voice broke through gritted teeth. “The fuck I don’t.”
Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist—not hard, not gentle either—and pulled you through the crowd like the bar was on fire and you were the only thing he wanted to save.
“Let go—” you snapped, yanking back.
But he didn’t. He didn’t even look at you. He just kept walking, through the side exit, into the night, the door slamming behind you both.
The parking lot was empty. The only sound was the chorus of crickets and your own ragged breathing. Gravel crunched under his boots as he spun, grabbed you, and slammed you against the side of his truck.
Hard enough to make the whole frame rattle.
“You came in here lookin’ like sin,” he growled, voice shaking with fury and heat, “dancin’ on him like you didn’t just come on my cock the other day.”
Your hands flew to his chest, fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “And you came in here actin’ like you didn’t fuck her for two fucking years!”
His palms slapped flat against the truck beside your head, caging you in, his breath hot on your face. “You don’t get to play jealous.”
You shoved him back just enough to slam your hands into his chest again. “I’m not jealous. I’m angry.”
“I’m fucking insane!” he shouted, crowding you again, hips grazing yours, voice breaking on the edge of something wild. “You walk in wearin’ that dress, lookin’ like revenge and heaven all wrapped in black, and then you let him touch you like he’s earned it? Like I didn’t fuck you so hard you were still shaking the next day?”
You were panting now, fury mixing with lust, blood roaring in your ears. Your thighs clenched, heart stuttering.
“You don’t own me,” you hissed.
His voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble. “Then why the fuck do you taste like mine?”
And then he kissed you.
Not soft. Not sweet.
It was teeth and spit and tongue. His mouth crashed into yours like he was trying to eat you alive. You bit his lip hard, tasted blood. He growled, deep and dark and filthy, and shoved the truck door open.
“Get in.”
“Make me.”
So he did.
He grabbed the back of your thighs, yanked you up like you weighed nothing, and threw you into the cab. The second your ass hit the seat, you were scrambling, snarling, reaching for him. He climbed in, slammed the door shut, locked it with a brutal click.
The air was stifling. Sweat slicked your skin already. You were panting, burning, soaked.
He reached for you.
You slapped his hand away. “You wanna fuck me?” you snarled. “Say it.”
His voice was nothing but gravel. “I wanna fuck you.”
“Try again.”
Bob’s hands slid under your thighs, dragged you toward him, your ass squeaking across the worn leather.
“I wanna fuck you so hard you forget your name. Forget his name. Forget how to breathe without me.”
You straddled his lap in one fluid motion, your dress bunched up to your waist, no panties to stop him. His jeans were already half undone, his cock out—thick, flushed, leaking.
You ground down once, teasing, just enough to make him groan.
He grabbed your ass hard, bruising. “You make me so fucking crazy.”
“Good,” you spat, dragging your nails down his chest. “You deserve to lose your goddamn mind.”
“You’re mine.”
Your lips brushed his ear, your voice a gasp. “I never stopped being.”
And then you sank down on him.
All the way.
He choked on your name.
You rode him with everything you had. Fury. Grief. Desire. His cock filled you deep, stretched you wide, made you gasp with every thrust. You bounced in his lap, nails digging into his shoulders, teeth scraping along his throat.
“Say it,” you demanded, hips snapping against his. “Say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” he groaned, mouth open, hands everywhere—your tits, your ass, your hips.
“Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Louder.”
“I’m fuckin’ yours!” he shouted, his voice cracking on it.
You clenched around him, came hard—body trembling, legs shaking, a scream ripped from your throat that he caught with his mouth, kissing you like he was drowning.
He didn’t stop. Thrust up into you, faster, harder, hips slamming, jaw clenched. You were soaked, messy, the slap of skin loud in the tight cab.
“Fuck—gonna come,” he growled, one hand on the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip so tight it hurt. “You feel so good. So fuckin’ good. Always did. Always mine.”
You looked him in the eyes, wrecked, open. “Come inside me.”
And he did.
With a guttural moan, he came hard, buried deep, cock twitching as he spilled into you, voice breaking against your lips as he said your name over and over again.
You collapsed against him, trembling. Chest to chest. Foreheads touching.
Silence fell like a curtain. Only the sound of your breathing. His hands stayed on your hips, thumbs brushing your skin like he didn’t know how to stop touching you.
Then—barely audible, he whispered, “I can’t lose you again.”
You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. Soft. Devastated.
And whispered against his mouth, “Take me home, cowboy.”
masterlist. dust & desire. ch 1: chanel & cowboy boots. ch 2: if you'd stayed. ch 3: the fire between us. ch 4: still not enough. ch 5: dead of night. ch 6: all that's left is ruin. ch 7: the ghost of your hands.
taglist ⊱☆⊰ @the-a-word-2214 @favestxrboy @uraesthete @abbysbenchpr @sammystarswrite @pey2618 @qardasngan @lunaoieoie @orithyia-eriphyle @amatiswayland @madzzz6958 @all-by-myself98 @dark-silhouette @ghost-ghost-13 @wyvernthekriger @gayfiretruck @watermeezer @lvmxla @novausstuff @mommymilkers0526 @natureartisian @feralgoblinbabe @misaki-evans @pinkgin1220 @opabomdia0082 @frooogytea @smooth-raikkonen @hiraethmae @ang0320 @howtodisappear444 @sarcazzzum @windblownwinston @nefertiti2003 @scarlord100 @skyterror68 @inesbethari @thosyam (if you want to be added to the taglist lmk in the comments <3)
WHY ARE THERE SO MANY BLANK BLOGS HERE?? I've been on and off Tumblr for 10 years, and I swear this has never been such a problem before. Is it just all the people from Twitter who have no idea how the site works and refuse to learn??
YOU HAVE TO REBLOG STUFF HERE!!
REBLOG STUFF!
REBLOG STUFF!!
YOUR LIKES ARE HIDDEN AND THEY ESSENTIALLY DO NOTHING REBLOG STUFF YOU NUMPTYS!!
Respectfully, wtf are you doing to my heart at 3:17am with that cliffhanger of chpt. 7 of dust and desires?? 😭😭 I cannot wait for the next chapter, I’m literally so fricking obsessed, I love the series and I hope both sides of your pillows always stay cold🙂↕️
AAHHHH😭 omg i know im sorry lol i left everyone on edge and anxious for more with that cliffhanger hahahaha—thank you so much for reading it ily🥹🤍 im so happy you’re liking the series!!! today’s dust & desire monday so i will be posting chapter 8 later🤍 lots of loveeee!!!<3 (also ty for coming to my inbox to tell me this, messages like this make me so happy🥺)
yes i promise i will post more bob fics!!!🥺 i have a bunch of requests for bob almost halfway finished, i’ve been a little busy these past few days but i promise i’ll lock in and post as soon as i finish them🤍
✷ ─── one night in madripoor ♱ part 1 ╱ part 2 ╱ part 3
pairings: FATWS!bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: infiltrating a club in madripoor was not what bucky barnes had signed up for. tension has always defined your complicated partnership, banter, stolen glances, constant teasing, pushing and pulling. but this mission? it threatens to tip everything over the edge. when sam sends you undercover as a dancer, and bucky finds out the hard way, lines blur, tempers flare, and control is the first thing to go. he's always called you infuriating. you've always called him an asshole. but under the neon lights of a strip club in madripoor, he might just call you his.
✷ ─── say my name ♱
pairings: dom!bucky barnes x loki sister's!reader
summary: bucky barnes swore he hated you. you swore you hated him more. but one sleepless night, he catches you moaning his name through your bedroom door—and hate turns to heat, fast. now you're both tangled in sheets, dripping in sweat, cursing each other out while you fuck like enemies who never want to stop. and if your brother finds out? well, that's a problem for later.
` ִ ☆゙ SERIES
✷ ─── widow's web ♱
pairings: bucky barnes x villain!oc
summary: She was supposed to be dead. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents don’t survive an entire building collapsing on their heads—let alone walk away untouched, vanish off the grid, and reappear years later as an agent gone rogue, as a high-level international threat with an extensive body count, several bounties on her head, and a growing list of governments too afraid to speak her name out loud. But Isadora Vale did. She was one of theirs once. Recruited and rescued by S.H.I.E.L.D. after the Red Room fell. A weapon reprogrammed into a multi-billion dollar asset. They gave her missions, orders, trust—until she learned the truth. Until they betrayed her—and left her for dead. And now she’s back, leaving bodies behind like breadcrumbs. Each corpse marked with a crimson lipstick stain. A signature. A warning. An invitation. She’s a ghost. A myth. A weapon built by the Red Room—refined by S.H.I.E.L.D.—now turned loose against the world that made her. Against the governments that used her. Against the people who claimed to protect her. Against the man who was supposed to be watching her six. S.H.I.E.L.D. wants her gone. The Avengers want her caught. And Bucky Barnes? He can't stop looking for her. Can't stop thinking about her. Can’t decide if he wants to capture her and bring her in, or press her up against a wall and beg her to ruin him He was assigned to stop her. He tells himself that’s still the plan. Instead, he lets her slip through his fingers again and again. But every time she slips through his fingers—smiling, taunting, calling him sweetheart through stolen comms—he doesn’t pull the trigger. Because somewhere between the blood, the fights that end with heavy breathing and lips too close, the chase, between her whispers in his comms, between the way she smiles before she disappears, he stopped wanting to catch her. He doesn't understand what's happening to him. But there’s one thing Bucky Barnes is sure of: He’s already wrapped around her fingers—caught in her Widow’s Web. And the worst part? He doesn’t care, and he doesn't want to get out.
✷ ─── power isn't dominance ♱
pairings: congressman!bucky barnes x senator's daughter!reader
summary: you’re the senator’s daughter—the one who actually runs d.c. from behind a perfect smile and sharp claws. congressman james buchanan barnes is a reformed war machine with a reform bill you’ve been ordered to kill. you were supposed to ruin him. instead, he’s pinning you to office walls and growling promises against your throat like they’re policy. you hate him. he hates you more. but neither of you can stop circling. this isn’t politics anymore. it's control. it's obsession. but power isn’t dominance—and bucky barnes was ready to show you what dominance really means.
✷ ─── sweet treats and side effects ♱ part 1 ╱ part 2
pairings: bob reynolds x fem!reader
summary: when yelena kicks off her next move in the thunderbolts prank war with a bag of questionable aphrodisiac chocolates, you agree to help her “prank” bucky barnes into a very inconvenient eight-hour erection. unfortunately, bob reynolds gets there first. now the most powerful man in the tower is red-faced, sweating, and very, very desperate for one thing—and it’s not chocolate. it’s you. and when the side effects kick in full-force, you’ll have to decide if you’re helping your friend… or completely, shamelessly indulging his deepest, filthiest desires. chaos. horny chocolate. yelena being the worst. and bob being the sweetest, softest, most absolutely feral man alive.
✷ ─── yours ♱ part 1 ╱ part 2
pairings: dad!bob reynolds x fem!reader
summary: what started as another desperate night tangled in bob’s arms becomes something so much more. two weeks later, something in your body changes—and yelena and bucky are the first to notice. when the test confirms it, you’re terrified. but when you finally tell bob… he drops to his knees. because he meant every word he’s ever said. and now it’s real. he’s yours. and you’re his. forever.
✷ ─── you taste like heaven ♱
pairings: bob reynolds x fem!reader
summary: bob eating you out for the first time.
✷ ─── let me make it up to you ♱
pairings: bob reynolds x fem!reader
summary: bob getting his dick sucked for the first time
✷ ─── don't let go ♱
pairings: bob reynolds x thunderbolts!reader
summary: the mission was supposed to be clean. routine. but nothing is simple when the sentry is involved, when bob loses control, and the void takes over. and when he does, you're the only one who can pull him back.
✷ ─── ruined ♱
pairings: dom!bob reynolds x thunderbolts!reader
summary: the thunderbolt's press tour is a fucking disaster—valentina's controlling, the team’s a mess, and bob reynolds looks at you like he’s one second away from losing his mind. when you catch him pacing the armory alone, you take what you want. but when you tell him to stay quiet and be good... bob doesn’t stay quiet. and he definitely doesn’t stay good.
✷ ─── marked ♱
pairings: secret boyfriend!bob reynolds x fem!reader
summary: you and bob had been sneaking around for months, the thrill of secrecy only fueling the fire and desire. but bruises from the night before threaten to unravel everything—especially when bucky barnes sees them and goes into full protective big brother mode.
✷ ─── too fucking close ♱
pairings: jealous!void/bob reynolds x thunderbolts!reader
summary: the press tour was hell. cameras, fans, and a predatory interviewer who got far too handsy—all under the watchful, simmering gaze of bob reynolds. you played the part. you smiled. but someone else was watching, someone darker. void had been caged inside bob for too long, feeding off his jealousy, his longing, his failure to act. but tonight, he took control—and he wasn’t gentle. he claimed you with feral need, fueled by everything bob had denied himself. when bob returned—shaking, terrified of what void had done—you grounded him. you reminded him it wasn’t just void you wanted. it was him. all of him.
✷ ─── our baby ♱
pairings: dad!bob reynolds and the thunderbolts headcanons
summary: headcanons for bob reynolds having a breeding kink, finding out you're pregnant and the thunderbolt's reactions <3
✷ ─── bound for life ♱
pairings: void/bob reynolds x thunderbolts!teammate
summary: coming soon!!! after you sacrifice yourself to save bob reynolds, he lets the void take over to bring you back. now bonded by more than just memory, you share a tether—emotional, psychic, and intimate. bob is wrecked with guilt. void is obsessed. and you’re caught between the man you love and the darkness that wants to claim you. but what happens when you realize you want both?
` ִ ☆゙ SERIES
✷ ─── dust & desire ♱
pairings: cowboy!bob reynolds x lawyer!reader
summary: after eight years away, you return to your hometown for the summer—older, richer, and sharper than the girl who once ran barefoot through dusty fields with bob reynolds at your side. you left for nyu law and built a polished, high-powered life in new york city. bob stayed behind, taking over his family’s ranch and turning into something harder, quieter—hotter. Invited by his mother to stay at the reynolds ranch, you walk back into a world that feels both foreign and familiar, dragging designer suitcases and memories behind you. but nothing is simple now. not with the tension that crackles every time bob looks at you like he’s still trying to hate you and can’t. not with the heat that builds when old wounds surface and words go unsaid. not when every glance, every touch, lingers on the edge of something you never really let go of. you're not sure what’s harder to face—the past you walked away from, or the man who never chased after you… but might now.
✷ ─── enchantress ♱
pairings: void/bob reynolds x enchantress!reader
summary: arabella montenegro was born under a blood moon, marked by old gods, bound to ancient magic, cursed and chosen all at once. a witch. a weapon. an avenger once, before the world became too loud, and her own shadows grew teeth sharper than anyone could control. they called her the enchantress, not realizing that name belonged to something else—the other half of her. the darkness that lives beneath her skin. not evil. not good. just ancient, and waiting to be let out. now, arabella walks barefoot through the watchtower—salt at her doorways, obsidian rings on her fingers, shadows whispering her name like a sacred incantation. her tarot cards never lie. her shadows never sleep. after the near-destruction of new york by the void, she's called back to a world she tried to leave behind, she’s called back to the fight—to the thunderbolts, to bucky, to the ghosts of who she used to be. and to bob reynolds. the golden god with too much power, and too many fractures. he is power incarnate. and arabella is the only thing he cannot destroy. but the void sees her too. wants her. recognizes the entity buried inside her—the one who looks back when she stares too long into the dark. because inside bob, something dark stirs. and inside her, something just as dark answers. arabella montenegro doesn't believe in salvation. not for herself, not for anyone else. but somewhere between salt circles and moonlit rituals, between banter, bitten lips, and stolen touches—the witch and the void begin to burn. and when they finally touch, the world will never be the same.
summary: you didn't really plan on spending tonight anywhere but in bed, binge-watching true crime and savoring wine. but when your best friend rhett abbott texts you at 1 am asking you to come outside, your comfortable night in turns into a starry, intimate confession beneath the wyoming sky. the lines of friendship blur deliciously into something deeper and hotter—under constellations and blankets on rhett's truck. and he finally shows you exactly how long he's been waiting to make you his.
✷ ─── after hours ♱
pairings: rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
summary: coming soon !! babysitting amy abbott out at the ranch was supposed to be simple—easy money, quiet hours, the occasional home-cooked dinner from cecilia. what started as a favor turned into routine, one that brought you dangerously close to the man you swore you wouldn’t touch. rhett abbott is trouble. older, angrier, and heartbreak wrapped in denim and cowboy boots. he’s been watching you since the beginning—since the first time you laughed at one of his jokes and made fun of his boots. Since the first time you wore shorts that made his hands clench uselessly at his sides. He doesn’t talk much, but when he looks at you, it’s like he’s drowning in the want he won’t admit to. you tease. you linger. you press buttons like you want to be punished. and eventually, rhett breaks. you thought you were just babysitting. turns out, you were asking for this.
✷ ─── red velvet ♱
pairings: engaged!rhett abbott x engaged!reader
summary: coming soon.
` ִ ☆゙ SERIES
✷ ─── west coast ♱
pairings: rhett abbott x surfer!reader
summary: you're pure Malibu, a california girl at heart—sunshine, surfing, and saltwater running through your veins. riding waves has always been second nature, but riding horses in dusty wyoming? definitely not your thing. when your family trades the california coast for the ranch life in wabang, wyoming, you clash immediately with the small-town culture and the cocky bull rider next door, rhett abbott. he’s brooding, possessive, and infuriatingly attractive, making you question everything you thought you wanted. suddenly, you're caught between two worlds—ocean tides and dirt roads, california beaches and wyoming nights, torn between homesickness and the magnetic pull of rhett’s touch. they say home is where the heart is…but what happens when your heart belongs in two places at once?
