I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. I am working on creating a sideblog to reblog recently posted fics.
I don't give permission for my writing to be copied, translated, or used for any AI purposes.* KEEP AI OUT OF ART !!
Newest Fics:
Bull by the Horns đ„ - Scott Miller x Storm Chaser!Reader
Rain - Clark Kent x Wife!Reader
Twisted in Bedsheets đ„- FWB!Bucky x Fem!FWB!Reader
Fics with 1k+ Notes:
He Is An Alien, After All - Clark Kent x gn!Reader
So Full. So Filled. đ„ - Husband!Bucky x Wife!Reader
First & Last đ„ - Brother-in-Law!Bucky x Widowed!Reader
4/22/26 update: I lost my account for a couple days, and my sideblogs with it. It will take me time to rebuild that. I appreciate all the love I received when I thought this account was lost forever. We're back baby!
I am so fucking sick of DC fanon making women exclusively mature and Wise and So Much Smarter Than The Dumb Boys god fucking FORBID a woman show a sliver of personality that isn't being Better than the Men. God forbid Diana fucks up and isn't the Wise Woman of the JL or Jessica is irrational or Stephanie is immature or Carol is mean or Selina is impulsive or Cassie childish or Artemis is rude you people beg for more stories about women but clutch your pearls when it's not about them being Girlbosses and God Look at How Dumb The Boys Are Arenât Women So Much Better For Not Doing That.
Warnings: Flirting, drinking, sensual tension, possessive Lee
Words: 300 words
A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: June 4th - âBut Iâm having such a good time.â
Lee found you by the punch bowl, laughing brightly at something Deputy Russellâs wife had said.
Your cheeks were warm from the gin someone had hidden in the drink, the church hall had gone soft around the edges in a way that made the bunting look pretty.
Leeâs hand settled at your waist before you saw him, broad palm firm through the thin fabric of your dress. Not grabbing. Not scolding. Just there, heavy enough to make your breath catch.
âSweetheart,â he murmured near your ear. âThink itâs time we head on home.â
You tipped your head back, finding him close, mouth curved in that lazy smile that looked like trouble pretending to be manners.
âNo.â
One brow lifted. âNo?â
âBut Iâm having such a good time.â
His thumb stroked once along your side, slow enough to make your smile falter.
âI can see that.â His voice dropped lower, roughened by smoke and amusement. âYouâve been talking to near everyone whoâs walked into this hall,â he murmured, voice roughened by smoke and amusement. âBeing quite the little social butterfly tonight.â
You swallowed.
Lee leaned closer, brushing the shell of your ear. âBut itâs getting late, and I think I can show you a much better time at home.â
Your stomach flipped.
His hand slid, just a little, from your waist to the curve of your hip. Nothing anyone else could call indecent.
You got hot
âOh,â you breathed.
Leeâs smile pressed warm against your temple. âMmm.â
You looked down at the glass in your hand, then back at him, aware of the heat in your cheeks.
âYes,â you nodded quickly. âDefinitely time we leave then.â
âWonderful idea, sweetheart.â
Lee took your glass, set it on the nearest table, and held your coat open like a gentleman.
A/N: day 18 of January Jumble Scribbles with prompt "You started this." // image found on Google
Your feet know where you're walking before your mind does. To your solace. Your personal piece of Heaven wrapped in sin. To him.
He smells your perfume before he sees you and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Past moments with you flash before his eyes in quick succession: the sunlight hitting your hair just so, the way you always asked for a cigarette when you'd been drinking, and the way you walked out of his life in a hurry more than a year ago.
"Never thought I'd see you again," he murmurs, turning in his desk chair. You look stunningâeven more beautiful somehow⊠as if that's possible, and yet.
"Well, here I am," you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. His hair is longer, and new ink curls up his left forearm. He looks good.
"Here you are," he repeats, leaning back in his seat.
Your eyes betray you and dart quickly to the seam of his dress pants⊠the seam that is working overtime.
"Missed this?" He asks, standing up and walking around his desk to you.
"N-no," you stutter as he circles you like a lion playing with its eventual prey. "IâBucky, I'm in trouble."
He stops short and looks into your eyes. "What kind of trouble?"
"It's a long story, but I need a lawyer," you say with a sigh. "I need your help."
"You know plenty of lawyers," he mutters. "Why me? Just admit that you missed me, doll."
You roll your eyes before admitting that yes, you miss him. He takes a step closer, running his nose along the pulse point in your neck and inhaling. "I've thought about you every day since you left," he admits with a rasp.
"What are you doing?" You ask as you close your eyes in pleasure at the feel of his skin on yours.
"You started this," he whispers. "By coming here. Don't stop now."
Prompt:Â June 3rd - Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / âAnd he shows them pearly whiteâ
Character: Steve Kemp
I know itâs short but please let me know your thoughts and reblog. Also, would love to discuss any ideas these little snippets inspire!
Love you! đ
The lines around Dr. Kemp's eyes ease. He sits back, spinning his pen in his hand as he balances his notebook on his bent leg. His eyes skim over you and he shows them pearly white. His smile is gentle, thoughtful.
"And when do you feel heard?" He prompts.
You flick your lashes and exhale. Your lip trembles as you barely hold back tears. Your sessions are always tumultuous. Sometimes, you leave high on a victory, other defeated by your own doom.
"I... don't know? Never?"
The answer has your stomach plunging. You shift in the chair and look down. You shake your head.
"Never? Not here? Not now? Or our other sessions?" He wonders.
You flinch.
"Well... you're paid to listen to me."
"Sure, that's part of it. But listening is more than my job. Hearing you is more than professional." He assures.
He tucks the pen inside the notebook and sets it aside. He drops his leg from across the other and sits up. He leans forward.
"I want you to feel heard. I want you to feel... powerful." He slides to the edge of the seat. "So..." He lowers himself onto the floor, kneeling. "You tell me..." he drops onto his hands and crawls to you. "Exactly what I should do to make you feel better."
Pairing: Eddie Munson x girlfriend!reader, ft. Dustin
Word Count: 300 (yeehaw)
Content: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 OF STRANGER THINGS; DDNE
A/N: day 13 of January Jumble Scribbles with prompt "Arm yourself because no one else here will save you."
You suit up in the camoflage coveralls, painting your face to look like the earth. Tears streak down through the makeup, ruining your facade.
"What if I fuck up?" You mutter, looking at your boyfriend.
"This is not an 'arm yourself because no one else here will save you' group of people. We protect each other. No matter what. You die, I die."
"You die, I die," you repeat, looking at him with tear-stained eyes. "I'm scared, Eddie."
"I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm scared too. But we'll get through this together. Dustin and I made these sick spears and shields. The Demobats don't have shit on us, sugar."
You nod, but your throat constricts as more tears pool over and run down your cheeks. "I don't know if IâI'm not strong enough⊠brave enough."
"Hey!" Eddie snaps his fingers in your face, bringing you back to the present. "Look at me. You are strong enough. You are brave. You are the best goddamn Paladin I've ever had the pleasure of DMing. Don't get in your head. You see something squirmy and Upside Down-y? Kill it. Simple. And when we come out of this on the other side, we're going to split a strawberry milkshake and I'm going to kick your ass in Gauntlet."
"You never beat me in Gauntlet," you tease, kissing his cheek.
"Yet. I haven't beat you yet. Now, are you ready?"
"I'm ready."
Hours later, Dustin's raw screams fill the dark void of the Upside Down as you and Eddie lie lifeless in the dirt. The Demobats have flown off, pleased with their work. "No no no, you can't die. You're not dead! Help!!! Help! Somebody!"
But the only sound that echoes back in the blackness is the chime of a clock.
Watching Nick work a room is something else. Includes lyrics from Mack the Knife.
Warnings: nothing too much, thinking thoughts about Nick as usual!
Words: 274
June Jukebox Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Watching him work a room was almost as torturous as his foreplay.
His dangerous charm, his sly smile, they usually meant trouble.
When you were the one under scrutiny it was worse, much worse. Bad enough - good enough? - that he could take you to the edge of all reasonable sanity with only his words.
When he sneered as you squirmed, pressing your thighs together as he spoke of the things he could do, would do, should doâŠ
Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear.
Always circling, anticipating the next drop of blood.
Where it would land, who his next victim would be.
And it shows them pearly white.
You couldnât help but want it to be you.
Nick Fowler always had a way of making you feel like the only one in the room. The only one he had eyes for.
Before you could look away, he looked up and caught you watching him.
Piercing blue eyes held yours.
He didnât smile. He dismissed the person he was speaking to, and stalked across the room toward you.
You locked your knees.
His walk, the confident swagger of a man who knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.
Or maybe not quite. Not yet, at least.
But he knew he would.
Your body agreed, a rush of heat flooding your body.
âThere's my girl,â he grinned wolfishly, drawing closer. âHaving fun?â
âWatching you decide who's next? Of course.â
His grin sharpened. He liked that. He always liked that.
He leaned in close enough so that only you could hear. âCareful, sweetheart. Could be you.â
Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles
prompt: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / âAnd he shows them pearly whiteâ -> Dancing Queen - ABBA / âAnybody could be that guyâ
warnings: allusions to sex and masturbation
w.c.: 334
masterlist | event masterlist
âCâmon,â Nat drawled. âItâs time for you to get back out there. Itâs been at least five years since your last relationship and we share a wall. I know youâre getting tired of those toys.â
You nearly choked on your cocktail, doubling over on the couch and thankfully not spilling anything on Tonyâs obscenely expensive rug. You werenât surprised that Natasha was pushing you to meet someone. You werenât one to go out to bars, clubs, or anywhere else that people your age hung out. Crowds were a lot for you to handle. Thatâs the price of being an Avenger.
But to have your best friend call you out on your lack of a sex life by talking about how you were getting bored with your vibrators was pushing the box a little too far.
âNat, please,â you tried to shoo her off, but she wasnât having it.
âSue me for being concerned about your wellbeing,â she deadpanned. âIâm just saying, anybody could be that guyâŠâ
As she trailed off, the elevator doors opened and out walked Steve and Bucky, both sweaty from their sparring session in the gym. Your gaze caught on a certain super soldier who was pushing his hair out of his eyes with his metal hand. The sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light just right and he looked as if he was glowing.
Nat already knew that your toys were boring you, but you didnât know if she knew that it was because nothing measured up to the vivid fantasies that ran around your head about Bucky. Ever since he joined the team six months ago, you had been growing more and more frustrated watching him strut around the tower like some Greek or Roman statue.
âIâm just saying, youâre gorgeous and an Avenger. Anyone would be lucky to fall into your bed.â
You downed the rest of your cocktail with a roll of your eyes, missing the way that Bucky perked up upon hearing Natashaâs comment.
Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles hosted by @societynsoelsscribbles
prompt: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / âAnd he shows them pearly whiteâ -> Dancing Queen - ABBA / âAnybody could be that guyâ
warnings: allusions to sex and masturbation
w.c.: 334
masterlist | event masterlist
âCâmon,â Nat drawled. âItâs time for you to get back out there. Itâs been at least five years since your last relationship and we share a wall. I know youâre getting tired of those toys.â
You nearly choked on your cocktail, doubling over on the couch and thankfully not spilling anything on Tonyâs obscenely expensive rug. You werenât surprised that Natasha was pushing you to meet someone. You werenât one to go out to bars, clubs, or anywhere else that people your age hung out. Crowds were a lot for you to handle. Thatâs the price of being an Avenger.
But to have your best friend call you out on your lack of a sex life by talking about how you were getting bored with your vibrators was pushing the box a little too far.
âNat, please,â you tried to shoo her off, but she wasnât having it.
âSue me for being concerned about your wellbeing,â she deadpanned. âIâm just saying, anybody could be that guyâŠâ
As she trailed off, the elevator doors opened and out walked Steve and Bucky, both sweaty from their sparring session in the gym. Your gaze caught on a certain super soldier who was pushing his hair out of his eyes with his metal hand. The sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light just right and he looked as if he was glowing.
Nat already knew that your toys were boring you, but you didnât know if she knew that it was because nothing measured up to the vivid fantasies that ran around your head about Bucky. Ever since he joined the team six months ago, you had been growing more and more frustrated watching him strut around the tower like some Greek or Roman statue.
âIâm just saying, youâre gorgeous and an Avenger. Anyone would be lucky to fall into your bed.â
You downed the rest of your cocktail with a roll of your eyes, missing the way that Bucky perked up upon hearing Natashaâs comment.
Prompt: Mack the Knife - Bobby Darin / âScarlet billows start to spread"
Word count: 297
Pairing: Dark Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Implied kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, dark and mafia themes
Bucky dragged you from the room he had stashed you in, along the corridor and down the stairs all the way to what you assume is a basement. It is certainly underground. He marched you along at a pace slightly too fast to you, forcing you to jog. His white shirt had red stains on it that you were trying not to think about.
             Bucky stopped outside a door and looks at you for the first time. He looks angry and the pressure of his grip on your upper arm is painful.
             âYou need to understand that you are mine and that when you forget this there are consequences.â
             He pushed open the door to an almost empty room. Sat in the middle, tied to chair is your date from two nights ago. You barely recognise him with the amount of bruising and blood covering his face. You can only stare, horrified.
             Bucky marches across the room, raises a gun and shoots him point blank in the head. Scarlet billows start to spread across the floor. Bucky cuts the ties holding the slumped body to the chair. You have never seen death like this, you canât look away as corpse starts to look less and less like a human being.
             You are still staring when Bucky approaches you. He pulls you into his arms and starts to stroke your head while hushing you gently. He is speaking soft comforting words to you as if he wasnât the cause of this current horror.
             âNow you understand. Now you will never run again.â Still delivered in that gentle tone but with a certainty to them but you are still too struck dumb to fully process their meaning. He leads you out of the room and into your next cage.
Content Warnings: Angst, implied threat of violence, gender neutral reader.
A/N: Swapped day three of June Jukebox Scribbles. This might be the most angsty piece Iâve ever actually written, and itâs just the start for what I have coming in terms of angst later this year đ I think I see the appeal?
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The room is deafeningly quiet. The floorboards beneath your knees are cold and unforgiving, but not more than the glare currently beating down on you.
Bucky looms over you, hands clenched in fists of flesh and metal, and jaw locked so tight it's a wonder his teeth haven't cracked.
"You almost had me fooled."
You silently avoid his gaze, heart pounding against your ribs and focusing on trying to breathe. There's nothing you can say that would fix what you've done.
"How far were you planning for this to go?" he growls. "Have you had enough yet?"
When you don't answer, his vibranium hand reaches out and grabs your face, forcing you to look up at him.
"Answer me."
There's a hint of hurt in his tone, something you know he's fighting not to show, and it makes your heart ache.
"James," you start, voice trembling. "Please, I love youâ"
"Love?" he spits. "You're really throwing that in my face right now? After everything I've done for youâgiven youâthis is how you repay me? Working for RumlowâŠI can't believe you'd stoop so low."
Your heart stops when he releases you and lowers himself to your level.
"How did you know?"
"You're too sweet. Too pure. TooâŠgoddamn perfect. Something was off. Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"
You shake your head, uncertain, looking through increasingly blurry eyes at the man that rules the city with a vibranium fist. There's no good excuse. Caught red-handed in a web of lies that's now threatening to destroy everything you've quickly learned to care about.
He stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, but when you don't answer, he stands back up and turns away.
"Get out," he grits, voice dangerously low. "Before I do something I'll regret."
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Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x F!Student!Reader
Warnings: Toxic relationship (but not in the way you think), Dom and Sub dynamic, reader is over 25 and Bucky's 40yo, mommy kink, lactation kink implied, pls let me know if I missed anything.
Playlist Prompt: I Wanna Be Bad - Willa Ford / âNo I can't promise that I won't do thatâ
Summary: Professor Barnes tries to break up with you.
WC: 426
A/N:: Day 2 of June Jukebox Scribbles Challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles . I might delve more into this later đ
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"This is what's best not only for you but for me as well⊠it's only a matter of time before someone talks to the administration".
â He looks stupid â was the first thing that popped into your head.
You loved him in that black sweater, made him look soft and sophisticated, suddenly you wanted to rip that thing off, slap some sense into him.
After an awkward amount of silence, you couldn't help but laugh "You're right"
The way his eyes stared at you, along with that subtle quiver of his lip told you he wasn't expecting that answer. Taking a step forward you purposefully avoided his eyes.
"We're clearly wrong for each other" you almost took his hand and when pulled away he followed you like a magnet.
Still refusing to look at him, you feel him hovering, the sound of his breath picking up.
Turning your back to him, "I deserve someone that wants me enough to stay", after more silence you think maybe he didn't hear you but then you feel his hands gripping your hips, with fear and care, like you might disappear into thin air.
"H-how could you say that?" He says just above a whisper, "look'it meâ of course I want you", you smile at his response, you have him right where you want himâŠ
"It's clear to me now that I'm too good for you" you sigh as if realizing your life is doomed, your name was on the tip of his tongue when interrupted "I think you're right, I should look for someone safe, sweet⊠maybe Steve" you wondered out loud.
With a pleased smile you watched Professor Barnes get on his knees while his arms surrounded you, gone was the highly respected scholar, and in his place your precious Bucky, your special little man.
"No nono! I'm sorry" he whines "he's stupid, I can be better, please I'll be so good mommy", he was desperate now, the glimmer in his eyes told you as much, your stone cold heart almost melted.
Leaning in, your breasts brushed his bearded face, the roughness against your soft skin making you purr; like a newborn puppy looking for milk, his lips searched for your warmth.
Your hands caressed his hair, enjoying the smell of his hair, you swear he was about to come when your fingernails scratched his scalp. "Don't tell me my Bucky's about to come in his pants just because I touched him" you scolded.
With a soft moan Bucky replies "No I can't promise that I won't do that".
Warnings: Buckyâs a creep. But heâs hot so maybe we can look past it.
WC: 349
AN: For @societynsoelsscribbles June Jukebox Event, day 3, feat prompt: he shows them pearly whites. Thanks always to @saradika-graphics for the divider.
You spend your first afternoon hauling boxes up the porch steps while summer heat sticks your tank top to your skin. Halfway through wrestling a bookshelf inside, a deep voice says, âCareful, doll. Youâre gonna throw your back out and what a shitty welcome to the neighborhood thatâll be.â
You turn and nearly drop the shelf. Your neighbor is unfairly attractive-broad shouldered, dark shaggy hair, bright blue eyes.
âIâm Bucky,â he says, and he shows them pearly whites.
You tell him your name. The idea of being next door to an Avenger puts any anxieties of living on your own to ease. Over time, you see it all:
Bucky helps old ladies carry groceries. He fixes the war veteranâs radiator for free. He mows the lawn for the single mom who works at the hospital. The cops like him. Hell, the whole neighborhood melts for him.
Then little things go missing: A hair tie. Your pink lacy panties. The silver ring you swore you left beside the sink.
You tell yourself youâre being paranoid. You literally live next door to a superhero.
But youâve also seen the way his eyes linger. And itâs curious how he seems to know your schedule better than you do.
Tuesday yoga. Thursday laundry. Midnight tea when you canât sleep.
You never told him that last one⊠right?
One rainy night, your power cuts out. Your phone flashlight shakes in your hand as you fumble through the kitchen.
A staccato knock at your door causes you to nearly scream.
âItâs just me,â Bucky calls out. âJust wanted to make sure you were okay.â
Relief immediately washes over you as you unlock the door. He steps inside dripping rainwater and concern.
You follow his line of vision as it drifts slowly across your living room to the mug sitting beside the sink to the tiny rip in your couch cushion to the framed photo of you and your best friend.
Details nobody should know unless theyâve already been inside.
Your blood runs cold.
Because Bucky smiles softly and says, âYou moved the furniture around.â
The Winter Soldier era, General Audiences. 100 words exactly. This drabble meets the requirements for @societynsoelsscribbles June Jukebox Scribbles (Mack the Knife).
Summary:
The shark has such teeth, dear. And there is work to be done.
"âcompletely irregular!" protests the lieutenant, nervous steps chasing the General's stride. "I must protestâ"
"Protest to the ice if you like." The General nods sharply to the guard at the door, who throws open the locks.
"This is not. Soviet. Policy," begs the lieutenant, desperate.
"Soviet?" The General stares at the lieutenant, aghast. "We are not Soviet. We are Hydra."
The lights in the room blink on, ras dva tri. The General hums, waiting. When the shark bitesâŠ
Defrosted, ready, waiting, The Asset's eyes are cold and blank.
"My friend," croons the General, "shall we go to Dallas?"
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