Fics concerning the same pairing are arranged in chronolical order
Ari Levinson
Biker!Ari and Goldi (+F*ck buddies)
HWITA Ari catching you riding the arm of his couch 🌶️
Biker!Ari
Ari is angry 🌶️
Mafia!Ari
HWITA Crashing Ari’s car 🌶️
James “Bucky” Barnes
Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized reader)
to be loved Masterlist for all things Bucky and Bug 🌶️
Mafia!Bucky
HWITA Bucky would do anything for you but it comes at a cost 🫑
Dark Mafia!Bucky
“You let him in my p*ssy?” 🌶️
Steve Rogers
Artist!Steve
Masterpiece You’re Steve’s muse, you help his work cum to life. 🌶️
Biker!Steve and Apple
Content Steve is thankful for what you have, but knows it could be so much better, so much more. 🫑
HWITA Steve’s obsession with your ass 🌶️
Captain America
HWITA Steve love’s that your smart, it means he can “love” you stupid 🌶️
Biker!Boys Clubhouse
HWITA What the boys call you and why
HWITA The boys “kickstand” sizes 🌶️
HWITA The boys when it comes to physical fights
Anon asks: Body count 🌶️
Misc.
Lee Bodecker Born Some people were born just so they could be buried, but not you. 🌶️
Lloyd Hansen with a virginity kink (3rd person POV) 🌶️
I need more biker bucky & bug. Please. I'm.begging.you.
I will do anything for more bucky & bug. I love it
This has been in my inbox forever because I…fucked off for awhile, apologies yall, I just tend to write more in the summertime.
That said, I am working on something that is set in the distant future to the main story where Bucky rails Bug within an inch of her life I’m calling it the “Teacher Appreciation Week Special”
Tags so far include: choking, creampie, dumbification, anal play, crying, spanking, degradation, praise, emotional release
Please please please tell me there will be more biker Steve & apple. I need to know what happens. I need more biker Steve. Its an addiction I didn't know I had until I read your stories but I'm okay with that.
Normally I try not to enable addictions but in this case… there definitely will be more!
I’m just not sure when
I’ve been busy with work starting back up but rest assured we have not seen the last of Biker!Steve
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
W= Wild card (random headcanon)
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Send in up to three letters at a time (but however many asks you want) for Biker, Mafia, Dark!Mafia Bucky, Steve, Ari or for Lloyd Hansen or Lee Bodecker.
Reminder that the Winter Soldier only operated for 50 years of the over 70 years Bucky was captive.
It took over 20 years for them to break Bucky down enough to use him, and even then, not only did he to be convinced what he was doing was good, but he constantly needed to be wiped to be kept complacent.
It only took seeing Steve and hearing 'I'm with you to the end of the line' to bring that all crashing down.
Biker!Ari catching you riding the arm of his couch; and Christ he wants to be a good person, wants to leave you alone and not drag you further into the messes their MC always seems to find but you’re not making it easy and he’s only human and you’re panting so sweetly and he can see where the cloth has darkened under your ministrations and-
Biker!Bucky (who also happens to be your brother’s best friend) comforting you when you accidentally get way too high and think you’re going to die.
TW: Recreational drug use (weed), talks of death (reader feels like they’re dying), virgin reader, suggestive
The illicit baked goods were handed over with very clear instructions, only eat HALF. But you were so hungry, and the brownie was surprisingly good, and what would really be the harm in eating a whole instead of a half? Death. Inevitable death would be the harm.
There’d been a very pleasant twenty-five minutes where it felt as if you were dancing on air, now you could barely get any- breathing shallow, chest tight, head heavy. This was it. Goodbye, cruel world. You knew there was little to be done so you decided to embrace the inevitable, if you acted quickly maybe you could go in your sleep. So you filled your cats food bowl, pressed a quick kiss to her head, and crawled into your hammock to await the end- but wait, wait you couldn’t go with regrets, that was a sure fire way to come back as a ghost and you did not want to haunt your crappy walk up forever. No, no regrets.
So you called James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, your brother’s Bucky. Bucky who lived only a few blocks away, Bucky who could send you off without regret. He picked up on the third ring, and didn’t get much in edgewise after a hesitant “Hello?”
What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀
Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵
I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.
that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers
An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.
He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.
You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.
It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.
Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.
"Sure thing, cherry."
His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).
Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.
You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.
You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.
Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.
You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.
If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...
You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.
"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.
"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.
"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.
His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.
Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.
"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."
You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.
You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.
But it's something you would find out much later.
Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.
If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.
You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.
If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.
Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.
You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.
But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.
