#firefly moodboard challenge

[222col]

જ⁀➴ introducing 'sunflower, vol 6' — the ninth bot on the next drop.

[berryispunk]

Like A Song Stuck In My Head

Before @thedrabblecollective's challenge kicks off tomorrow—and after meeting the characters yesterday—here’s the intro story you’ll want to read before diving into the drabbles themselves.

pairing: Frankie Morales x ofc (Firefly)

tags: alternate universe, takes place after TF events, all the music references, rockstar! Frankie, dual POV, addiction, drug mention, cocky Frankie, strong female lead, ANGST, strangers to???, falling in love, some harder themes, dive into mental health (later), emotional turmoil, eventual smut for later chapters, curse words

general summary: Like a Song Stuck in My Head follows Frankie , as a troubled guitarist chasing a second chance, and Firefly, the sharp-tongued bartender who sees through him. What starts in a dive bar becomes something deeper—until it all falls apart. Some connections burn fast. Others never fade. Some songs never leave you, even when the music stops.

word count: 2,5 k

moodboard done by my dear friend @guelyury. gracias, bonita!

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Firefly’s seen plenty of boys with guitars. But none like the one on stage tonight—wild waves for hair, sweat-slicked and electric like a live wire, half-drunk on adrenaline and something sharper. Frankie Morales, lead guitarist of Thorns of August, doesn’t just play—he moves like the music’s tethered to his soul, like it’s the only thing keeping him from flying apart.

She wipes down the counter with a practiced flick, half-watching from behind the bar. Not that she’ll ever admit it.

Donna leans in beside her, arms crossed, gaze steady on the stage. “The boys are good, right?”

Firefly shrugs. “Guess they’re decent.”

Donna smirks, all tough-love and mischief. “Guess the fish boy’s got an eye on you.”

That’s when she looks up—and catches Frankie’s gaze locked on hers like he’s been watching her all along. He doesn’t look away. Just smirks, cocky and smug, before turning back to his guitar like she hasn’t just caught him staring. She rolls her eyes, but there’s heat curling low in her chest.

After the set, he swaggers over, guitar still slung across his back like a weapon or a trophy. Pupils blown wide, jaw tight—wired as hell but humming with something she can’t name. He taps the bar with two fingers.

“Whiskey. Double.”

She gives him a once-over. Band tee snug, silver rings, that look in his eyes like he thinks she’s already fallen.

She pours the whiskey. He knocks it back in one go. No wallet.

“You gonna pay for that?” she asks, cool.

He grins. “I already did. Just played your sad little stage, didn’t I?”

She doesn’t blink. “If you don’t pay, I’m throwing you out. Couldn’t care less if you’re Mick Jagger’s long-lost bastard.”

He laughs—slow, full of bite. Peels a crumpled twenty from his back pocket and tosses it onto the bar like a challenge.

“Are you always this uptight, hermosa?”

She meets his gaze, unflinching. “Are you always this insufferable?”

—

She walks away before he can come up with something clever, sliding down the bar to serve a pair of regulars who actually tip. Doesn’t spare him another glance. Frankie watches her go, elbow braced on the counter, still riding the high—everything too bright, too fast, too much. But somehow, she cuts right through the noise.

It’s the way she moves—like she owns the place, like the world doesn’t get to touch her unless she says so. The sharp line of her jaw. The tattoo curling over her collarbone. No rain, no flowers.

And the way she doesn’t smile when she doesn’t mean it. That part floors him.

He thinks about tossing out something flirty, one of his usual throwaway lines. But it feels wrong here, flimsy—like trying to play a song with all the strings snapped. She’s not playing the same game. And it bothers him.

Later that night, the crowd’s thinned to the half-dead drunks and the regulars too drunk to find the door. The stage is dark, gear packed, Benny’s laugh echoing somewhere near the exit. But Frankie’s still at the bar—leaning, lingering. He’s not sure why. He tells himself he could leave, find some girl if he wanted to. He’s done it before. But tonight, he doesn’t. Tonight, he stays. Eyes drawn to the fiery redhead behind the bar who hasn’t smiled at him once.

“You still here?” she asks without looking up, wiping down the counter like she doesn’t care if he answers.

He shrugs, trying to look cooler than he feels. “Band’s packing up. Thought I’d keep you company.”

She flicks a glance his way. “You look like you’re two seconds from kissing the floor.”

He grins, all teeth. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”

She huffs out something like a laugh, but it’s dry. Noncommittal. Still, he takes it like a win.

“You get high like this every show?” she asks after a beat, genuinely curious now.

He leans in, cocky. “Only the good ones.”

“Then that explains it.”

That makes him laugh—rough, real. He rests an elbow on the counter like he plans to stay a while, like maybe he belongs here now.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Firefly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Bullshit.”

She shrugs. “That’s what people call me.”

“You got a real name?”

“Yeah, but you haven’t earned it.”

That hits somewhere deep. He covers it with a smirk, but inside, it throws him off balance. People usually hand him what he wants. She just tossed him back on his ass without even trying. 

He doesn’t know it yet—not through the static in his head or the ego propping him up—but something shifted. And in the weeks that follow, he keeps showing up. Even when they’re not playing. Even when he says it’s for the drinks.

It’s not.

—

It starts on a quiet night. The kind where the jukebox hums low and the only customers left are nursing heartbreaks or hangovers. Frankie’s at the bar again—this time not high, not vibrating out of his own skin. Just tired. Guitar case propped beside him like a loyal dog. She slides him a soda without a word.

He nods. “Thanks.” No smirk, no wink. Just that low, scratchy voice that’s somehow softer without the coke in his system.

She leans in, arms crossed. “So what’s your story, Guitar Boy? You always this broody when you’re sober?”

His smile twitches at the corner, crooked and real. “Only when no one claps for me after a show.”

She rolls her eyes, but something in the stillness makes her pause. He’s not performing tonight. Not selling the charm, not trying to win anything. Just sitting there, present. So she cracks, just a little.

“I used to study literature,” she says, fingers absently tracing the condensation on his glass. “Had this whole big idea of being a teacher. A writer. Romantic kind of broke, you know?”

He doesn’t interrupt. Just watches her, like he knows better than to speak yet.

“Then my mom got sick. Bills piled up. Took a break from school to help out. Never made it back. Ended up here, in a city I never meant to stay in, behind a bar I didn’t plan on working at.”

She shrugs like it doesn’t sting anymore. Maybe it doesn’t.

“But... I don’t know,” she adds, quieter. “I’ve grown to weirdly love it. The noise. The chaos. Donna. Even the semi-decent bands that roll through.”

He lifts a brow. “Semi-decent, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the corner of her mouth curves, and this time the smile isn’t forced.

After that, he starts showing up more often. Not every night, but enough that she notices when he’s not there. Always sober now, or at least trying to be. He comes in quiet, nursing a soda or nursing nothing at all, just resting in the hum of The Shack like it’s the only place that doesn’t expect anything from him.

They talk. Not deep all at once, but in fragments. He’s a better listener than she expected. When his pupils aren’t blown wide and his hands aren’t jittering, Frankie has this way of being still—really still—like he’s storing everything she says to turn it into music later.

One night, she tells him about her favorite poetry book. Just mentions it in passing while wiping down the bar. Doesn’t expect him to care.

But a few nights later, he walks in, looking sheepish, a little unsure, and drops a worn copy of the exact book on the bar between them.

She blinks. “You can read?”

He chuckles, fake offended. “A few words, yeah.”

Then, almost shyly, he adds, “I read some of it. It's kinda like songwriting, just… quieter.”

It catches her off guard. The honesty. The humility. For a moment, her armor slips—and she lets herself smile. Not the sharp one she wears with drunk guys and rockstars. A real one.

He doesn’t try to kiss her, doesn’t push. Just sits there with his soda and the book between them, like maybe that’s enough.

—

The weeks blur.

Frankie doesn’t know when the shift happened. Maybe it was the way she said you haven’t earned it with a half-smirk and fire in her eyes. Maybe it was the book—how she lit up talking about it, how her voice softened like she forgot to keep her guard up.

So he buys it. Reads it. Not all of it, not at first. Just enough to underline the lines that feel like her. He keeps a notebook in his bag now, scrawled with half-finished lyrics and fragmented thoughts that make no sense unless you’ve been inside his head for weeks.

“you speak like everything’s temporary / but your silence stays with me.”

“she keeps her name locked in her teeth / dares you to ask for the key.”

She haunts him. Not like a ghost—no, Frankie knows ghosts. She’s worse. She’s alive. She’s red hair under cheap bar lights. She’s rolled eyes and soda cans slid across the counter. She’s the only thing that makes him feel sober when he’s high.

But she never lets him all the way in. Even when she laughs at something he says. Even when she leans closer without realizing. Even when she tells him about the professor who once said her words made people feel too much. She always pulls back, just before it gets real.

It drives him mad. Not angry-mad. Addict-mad. Desperate for a hit, and she’s the cleanest thing he’s ever wanted.

So when show night comes, and the green room smells like sweat and spilled beer and Benny passes him a bump, Frankie doesn’t hesitate. The coke floods him like always—confidence, chaos, clarity, then none at all. He’s wired by the time they hit the stage. Sound blaring, blood boiling, eyes darting for her even while he’s mid-solo.

He spots her eventually. Behind the bar. Laughing, not at him.

Some guy’s leaning over the counter, too close. Talking with his hands. She looks uncomfortable—but polite. Frankie sees red. Doesn’t care that the guy’s just a customer. Doesn’t care that they’re mid-set. He drops the guitar mid-song.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, stumbling off the stage.

It happens too fast.

The guy mouths off. Frankie swings. Benny jumps in. Chairs scrape. Bottles crash. Someone throws a punch that wasn’t even meant for them. Suddenly the whole bar erupts. Santi grabs Frankie from behind, pinning his arms before he can lunge again.

“Enough, man. ENOUGH!”

Frankie’s breathing like a wild animal. Coked out and furious. Mind buzzing with static and the taste of blood.

And then—

He sees her.

Across the chaos. Still behind the bar, where she ducked for cover. Her eyes on him, not scared. Worse–disappointed. Like she’s watching something she’d hoped wasn’t true unravel right in front of her.

Donna’s voice cuts through it all. Sharp and final.

“Get out. All of you. You’re done here.”

Frankie doesn’t hear what else she says. Santi’s dragging him toward the door. Benny’s bleeding from the lip. The crowd’s yelling. Cops are probably on the way.

But all he can think about is her gaze.

It follows him out the door. Lingers in his chest even when the cold hits. And for the first time in a long time, Frankie feels something worse than the high wearing off.

He feels shame.

— 

The bar smells like stale beer and regret.

Firefly unlocks the door with a click that echoes louder than it should. Her head throbs from too much adrenaline and not enough sleep. She barely drank last night, but she feels hungover anyway. Emotionally wrung out. The kind of tired that seeps into bone.

She steps inside slowly, like the chaos might still be waiting for her.

The place is trashed. Not totally wrecked, but enough—a few chairs overturned, a crack in one of the front mirrors, and a smear of something dried and dark on the floor near where Benny got hit. Donna stayed late cleaning up most of it, cursing under her breath the whole time. Firefly stayed too, silent, scrubbing until her hands ached, not saying much. Not about him.

The cold air clings to her skin as she props the door open to let in some fresh light, grabs the broom, and starts sweeping. She’s barely a few swipes in when she hears it.

Boots on pavement and she freezes.

Frankie stands there, half-shadow, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to hold himself together with nothing but denim and shame. He looks like hell. Hoodie, sunglasses, hair a mess. The whole hungover rockstar programm. She knows he’s sober—can feel it, somehow. But that doesn’t make it better.

Her heart sinks so fast she almost misses it.

But she straightens, shoulders squared and voice flat, despite her inner turmoil.

“You’re lucky Donna’s not here.”

He flinches like she slapped him. Takes one hesitant step closer but doesn’t cross the threshold.

“I just…” His voice cracks, then clears his throat. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She stares at him.

Not because she doesn’t believe it but because part of her wants to and that’s the worst part.

“You should go, Frankie.”

“Please,” he says, like he’s begging now. “Just—just let me explain. Let me—”

“No.”

It’s final. Her voice doesn’t shake, even if her hands grabbing the broom do.

“You think I haven’t seen guys like you lose it before?” she says, eyes icey. “You think I haven’t had to clean up after someone who let the high talk louder than their heart?”

He swallows hard, but doesn’t argue. Just stands there, all wrecked and quiet, which is even more deafening somehow.

She doesn’t wait for him to answer. Doesn’t give herself the space to waver—because if she stays in that doorway, looking at him all shattered and sorry, she just might. But this was never her battle to win. Never hers to fix. And it never will be.

Firefly steps past him, into the darkened bar, and flicks on the lights.

Fluorescents hum above her as the door creaks shut behind her, echoing in her ears.

He doesn’t follow. Thank God, he doesn’t follow.

And the second she’s alone, it all crashes. The broom clatters to the floor and her hands tremble even harder. She presses her back against the wall and slides down to the tiles. The first sob rips out before she can stop it, raw and ugly and real.

She wanted to believe he was different. That the quiet nights and stolen conversations meant something.

That maybe she didn’t have to keep everyone at arm’s length forever.

But last night reminded her why the walls exist and why she can’t afford to let them fall.

thanks for reading 💌

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tags: @speaktothehandpeasants @kungfucapslock @felix-enthusiast @kakiki3 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @capuccinodoll @almostfoxglove @jolapeno @whirlwindrider29 @sheepdogchick3 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @brittmb115 @greenwitchfromthewoods @diabaroxa @glycerinrivers @biapascal @copperhalfcent @beaniebailey @thepilatesprincess @axshadows @kirsteng42 @joelsgoodgirl @ellenmunn @matchalov3 @canadianfangirl-95 @picketniffler @hotforpedro @tuquoquebrute @noovaarq @warmdragonfly @theanothersherlockian @littleluc @76bookworm76 @inept-the-magnificent @confusedpuffin @wheatmaze @rav3n-pascal22 @picketniffler @lostinmyownmaze

[rizlowwritessortof]

The Elf Queen and the Knight of Moons

This was written for @chevroletdean 's 500 follower milestone celebration - congrats, Liane! The challenge was to write a fic inspired by the moodboard created by Liane - LOVE this one! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2847

Warnings: None but smut 😉

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Charlie, this is AMAZING!”

You were standing in the middle of a huge, circular room, your eyes focused on the 15-foot-high dome ceiling constructed of green and gold stained glass and mahogany beams. The same mahogany beams supported the ceiling above a floor made of aged and cracked ceramic tiles in varying shades of green. You turned in a circle, a huge grin on your face, finally stopping to hug Charlie, who was practically vibrating in excitement.

This was your first time LARPing, after Charlie and Dean had coaxed and nagged and practically bribed you to get you to agree to participate. After seeing this, you were beginning to get genuinely excited about the weekend.

“I know, right?! We had to fork out some fairly big bucks for this, but totally worth it. That’s why we had to raise the fees. I mean, the Battle of Moondoor is epic, right? I have an awesome base, the Shadow Orcs even have their own mini-fortress.” She was bouncing up and down, holding onto your hands. “And wait until you see your costume – YOU are going to be the most fucking amazing elf queen EVER!”

“What is this place?” you asked, still in awe.

“Used to be some kind of chapel or something, but it’s been closed down for years. Whoever is in charge of this park decided they could make money renting it out for renaissance faires and LARPing groups, so we jumped on it.” Charlie grinned again, her eyes shining. “I can’t wait for this weekend!!”

You arrived at the venue on Friday night with Dean and Sam, excited to get into character for the event. Dean was the Grand Master of the knights serving under Charlie, the Queen of Moons, and Sam was his right-hand man. You helped them unload their gear at the Kingdom of Moons location, letting Charlie give you all the tour before heading with your baggage to the base for the Elf Kingdom.

The paths were lined every ten feet or so with old-fashioned style street lamps, lending a soft glow as you made your way across the wooden footbridge to the mossy tile path leading to the stone structure you had visited with Charlie earlier that week. You gave Dean a bright smile, taking the hand not holding one of your bags and pulling him with you to enter the building.

You stepped inside and stopped, your jaw dropping, your bag hitting the floor as you abandoned it to walk farther into the room, in awe of the transformation. “Charlie! It’s SO FUCKING AWESOME!” Your elven throne sat at one side of the room on a platform, your flower crown on the seat awaiting you. There were several chairs and a table made of sturdy-looking timbers, and the room overflowed with flowers and greenery. Your private chambers were separated by velvet green and gold curtains, and Dean laughed at your enthusiasm as you went to peer inside.

Your costume hung in the corner of the space, and you gasped as Charlie peeked in to watch your reaction. “I told you!!”

You turned to face her, your eyes wide. “Charlie, it’s PERFECT!” Your medieval gown was a rich forest green with gold lacing, the sleeves long and flowing, and you felt like a queen just looking at it.

“No, you have to wait until tomorrow, stay out,” Charlie turned and ordered as Dean approached, and he grinned, but backed away.

“The Queen of Moons has spoken, I must obey,” he teased with a little bow, and Charlie arched an eyebrow at him with a smirk.

“Don’t you forget it.”

Dean made his way down the path to the Elves keep, his hand on the hilt of his fake sword as he came to a halt at the guard’s order. “Halt! State your business.”

“I am here at the request of the Queen of Moons to meet with your Queen.”

The guard nodded. “Wait here,” then disappeared through the door. He was back almost immediately, holding the door open and waving him in with a gesture of his hand. “The Queen will see you now.”

He walked between the guards and into the room, stopping dead in his tracks for a moment when he saw you. You looked absolutely regal, the soft, green fabric of your costume clinging to your curves, your breasts practically bursting out of the top of the gown. You were smiling and chatting with one of the elves, and Dean swallowed hard as you bent over to pet a small dog that was roaming free in the room.

“Audience with the Queen?” one of the elves-in-waiting asked, and he nodded, thinking how close he was to giving you a standing ovation in his pants. The elf made his way up to your side, whispering in your ear, and you turned towards him. The look in your eyes made his breath catch in his chest. You moved to seat yourself on your throne, waiting expectantly for the elf to escort you forward.

“Your Majesty,” Dean said, going to one knee in front of you. You held out your hand, and his lips were warm as he kissed it, lingering just a little longer than necessary. Your pulse jumped a little at the contact, and you felt your cheeks warm as you watched him rise to his full height. “The tales of your beauty don’t do you justice.” His eyes swept appreciatively over your chest, his tongue darting out over his lips as he forced his gaze back to meet yours.

“And you are as handsome as you are gallant, sir knight. I’ve heard tales of you as well, and your golden tongue.” You reached down to toy with the pendant dangling at the top of your cleavage, a smile teasing at the corners of your lips as he shifted uncomfortably, fighting to keep his eyes focused on your face. “So what, pray tell, does the Kingdom of Moons require from the Elf Kingdom?”

“My queen desires an alliance, Your Majesty. An offer to rule as equals when we are victorious in the upcoming battle for Moondoor.” You arched an eyebrow at him, and he continued. “And the use of the Sword of Honor’s Oath.”

You rose to your feet. “If you want the Sword, you must earn it. If you can best my champion, the Sword is yours to use in the Battle of Moondoor.”

Dean tilted his head a little with a cocky smile. “The Sword – and Your Majesty’s company at the banquet tonight.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. “Done. If you win.”

He bowed, his confident swagger evident in his expression. “Oh, I’ll win.”

He offered you his arm, and you rested your hand on it in the most queenly manner you could manage, when what you really wanted to do is give his knightly ass a squeeze. Together, along with several of the elves, you made your way outside and to the back of the building, where there was a large open expanse of lush green grass. Dean’s eyes widened a little as a large – very large – man in elven garb made his way in long strides to the middle of the space.

“Pretty big for an elf,” Dean muttered to you under his breath, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Sir Winchester of the Kingdom of Moons, meet Tarron, my champion. May the mightiest warrior be victorious!”

You nodded to one of your subjects, who handed Dean a shield, and he armed himself with his sword. With a nod and a smirk in your direction, he walked out to meet his opponent.

You watched as they fought, thoroughly enjoying watching Dean’s fighting skill, for once without the worry that he might actually get hurt. It was really no contest for your poor champion, whose only experience with real life hand-to-hand combat was probably a game of pickle ball. Dean soon had him down on the ground with his fake sword at his throat. “Do you yield?” he asked loudly, and your champion nodded. Dean offered him a hand up, congratulating him on a good fight.

You watched, smiling, as the victorious knight walked towards you. He tossed his shield aside, and with one arm swept you up against his chest, kissing you with a possessiveness that made your knees wobble. Your eyes fluttered open slowly as he lifted his head, waiting for you to steady yourself before he stepped away. “My queen,” he said in a low voice, a smile curving his lips as he walked away.

“I’m not your queen,” you answered him, teasing – and still a little breathless from his unexpected kiss.

He turned his head with a smirk, still walking away. “Oh, you’re mine. See you tonight.”

The banquet was a celebration of food and too much drink and laughter, loud and crowded. Dean sat between you and Charlie at the head table with the other groups’ leaders and the commanders of their armies, your defeated champion at your other side.

It was almost impossible to talk without yelling, the noise level was ridiculous. But Dean was managing to communicate without words. His hand had been very friendly all night, and he was getting bolder all the time. Even with your gown in the way, he managed to work his way between your thighs, sending occasional little zings of electricity through you. Not that you were keeping your hands to yourself, either – his thigh muscles were tense under your touch, your fingers roaming up every once in a while to give his half-hard cock a squeeze.

You had both had plenty of ale and wine, and your fill of the celebration. Dean leaned over to speak next to your ear, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I think it’s time to get the hell out of here, don’t you? I need to get you naked.”

You looked at him, an impish smile on your face. “Excuse me, sir? Please remember that I am a queen.”

He grinned, leaning close again. “Well, then, I’ll do it on my knees.” He nuzzled at your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. “And fuck you royally.”

You gave your lip a sharp bite, then nodded. “Yep. Time to leave.”

You waved at Charlie as you both stood up, and she sent you on your way with a knowing grin. You made your way through the crowd with Dean’s hand at your back, finally stepping outside into the much cooler evening air. Dean pulled you close for a kiss, mumbling against your lips about you being a tease, and you shoved at him playfully. “Me? You’ve been at it all night, my good sir knight.” You whirled away from him, dancing ahead down the path, joyfully spinning with your skirts bunched in your hands. “You were right. I’m so glad you and Charlie talked me into coming. I’m having the best time.”

He watched you with a grin. “Told you. And we’re about to have an even better time.” You giggled as he chased you, grabbing you from behind and pulling you close. He nibbled at the side of your neck, one hand moving up to grope at your breast. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day, almost busting out of this dress.” He slipped his fingers down under the fabric, moaning softly as he brushed over your nipple.

You let your head drop back on his shoulder with a little whine as he plucked at the aching nub. “I want you – I’m so wet, Dean.”

He let out a soft growl. “We’d better move it before I take this dress off you right out here in the open.”

The two of you stumbled back to the elf headquarters, kissing and groping each other along the way. You finally pushed into the stone building, falling back against the door as Dean kissed you, his hands roaming, kneading. He stopped, turning you around, groaning at the sight of the row of laces on the back of your gown. “Seriously?”

“It’s okay, there’s a zipper under the lacing, just pull the velcro loose,” you panted out, laughing at Dean’s breath of relief.

“Glad Charlie’s not hard-core into the whole ‘authentic’ bullshit.” The cool air hit your back as the zipper came down, and he turned you to face him again, yanking the dress from your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet. “Fuck, baby,” he said, kissing you again as he pinned you against the door with his body.

His hands moved over your skin, exploring as he kissed along your jaw and down the column of your throat. Your hands were braced flat against the rough wood of the door, your back arching as he tongued a hard nipple into the heat of his mouth, sucking and tugging gently with his teeth. Calloused fingers tucked into the top of your panties, pulling them smoothly down your legs. He pulled them free as you stepped out of them, then let the back of his hand glide back up the inside of your thighs until he could cup your pussy in his hand.

He move to nip at the other nipple as he stroked his fingers through your folds, a low hum of appreciation in his throat at how slick you were already. He dipped a fingertip inside you, then up to circle your clit, and you whined his name, hips rising to meet his teasing touch.

He kissed his way down further, gentle, sucking kisses at your waist, your navel, the tender skin at the crease of your thigh. He nuzzled his nose into your mound with a moan, then looked up at you, heat glowing in his eyes. “Told you I’d go on my knees for you,” he said, then hooked your knee over his shoulder and ducked down to drag his tongue over you, slow and thorough.

You braced your head and shoulders back against the door, one hand with a desperate hold on the handle and the other gripping a handful of Dean’s hair as he worked you over, tongue-fucking you and sucking your clit in a relentless cycle until you were shouting his name and bucking into his lush lips. He urged you on, greedy and hungry for more, until you were pushing him away, too sensitive for the moment to take any more.

He rose to his feet, holding you close and kissing your neck as you clung to him, trembling. “Okay, let’s move this somewhere more comfortable, okay, sweetheart?” You nodded with a wan smile, letting him lead you towards your curtained chambers, your clothes bunched in his hand.

You scooted to the middle of the bed as Dean quickly stripped out of his costume, then crawled up to settle himself between your thighs, his lips moving their way over your breasts on their way up. The head of his cock nudged at your entrance as he captured your lips in a hungry kiss, and you urged him on, your legs dragging up the length of his muscular thighs to clamp around his hips as he pushed his way inside you. He buried himself to the limit, his hips thrusting gently of their own accord as he moaned into your kiss. “Feel so good, baby,” he panted, grunting softly as you squeezed around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck me, Dean,” you mumbled against his lips, and he gave a slight nod, then began to move. Your breath caught in your chest at the first slow drag out and drive back in, the rhythm building and ramping up with each thrust until you were crying out, not caring if someone coming back from the banquet could hear you. All that mattered was your connection, the intensity building inside you to the breaking point. When his cock began to swell and pulse inside you, you couldn’t hold back, and you shouted his name, your nails probably drawing blood as you clawed at him frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” he shouted along with you, slamming into you desperately until he had nothing left to give and dropped down on top of you, his heart pounding against yours.

It was several minutes before either of you moved. You finally were able to move your arms, running your fingers through the short hair at his nape, and he gave a contented sigh, his lips caressing your neck gently. “Charlie’s right – it’s good to be queen,” you said, and you could feel him smile.

“Glad to be of service, Your Majesty.” He finally lifted his head to kiss you, slow and lazy.

Definitely coming back next year. LARPing is fucking awesome.

Tag List #1:

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

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        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

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  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma  

[late-to-the-party-81]

Love, Lies & Electricity

AN: Hi all - here is my entry for week 5 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer. This time it’s a Bucky x Reader fic. Thanks to all who voted in my poll a few weeks ago to decide who this reader should be.

Additional thanks and kisses to @drabbles-mc for beta-ing this.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden.

Master List | HBS Master List

Challenges and Bingos: HBS week 5 - We’re Exes

Summary: After Bucky Barnes broke your heart several months ago you never wanted to see him again. However, when he turns up and asks you to help him, Sam and Torres bring down a HYDRA base you can’t refuse as it will mean a chance to get payback on those who hurt you worse than he did.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

CW: Angst, Revenge, Sexual Content

There was a reason why you’d taken solace on the rooftop of an abandoned building in DUMBO - you wanted to be alone. You’d hoped that the omnipresent drizzle would have deterred most of those who might wish to contact you, even if they did manage to work out where you were. Despite this, you weren’t surprised in the least when Bucky appeared. 

Even with your back to him and your gaze unwaveringly fixated on the view before you, you knew he was there. He had an energy about him - probably something to do with the circuitry to his arm - that you’d found easy to pick up on when you’d first met him, let alone after you’d become attuned to it. 

“I told you not to bother me ever again, Barnes,” you stated in a flat tone, still avoiding looking at him.

There was a moment of silence, probably so he could consider his response, although you’d be surprised if he wasn’t expecting this type of reception.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but I - we - need you.”

Your lips twitched wryly. You should have known he wouldn’t be here of his own accord. You hadn’t had any contact from him since that day three months ago when you’d screamed and shouted and… he’d just stood there. Accepting your vitriol before turning and walking out of your life. The wound still felt raw. 

When you’d first met him, you’d fallen hard and fast. Bucky just seemed to get you - understand you like no-one else, and you thought that you’d known him too. The nights you’d spent together, just holding each other and talking about what you’d gone through in your lives - finding comfort and companionship that transcended the physical connection that you had. However, like every other good thing in your life, it had come crashing down around your ears, but unlike other times, you hadn’t seen it - the hurt and the betrayal - coming.

Bucky hadn’t gotten involved with you because of who you were - he’d approached you because of what you could do - what you could bring to a new team of Avengers. Someone else who saw your value in connection to your freakish abilities. He breached your walls, then shattered them from the inside. You were still rebuilding them.

“What’s the job?” you queried, knowing that if you dismissed him out of hand he’d probably just push harder and you’d end up screaming at him.

“There’s a pocket of Hydra holdouts in a bunker in Massachusetts,” he rumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to control your physical reaction to his presence. “We can’t find a way in, and need the element of surprise. You’ve got the skills we need.”

You snorted. Of course it was all about your powers.

“Who’s asking? The White Wolf or Bucky Barnes?” You couldn’t keep the sneer from your voice.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t rise to it, instead asking, “Would it make a difference?”

A loud sigh left your throat. “I suppose you’re right. You knew I was in from the word ‘HYDRA’.”

You pushed yourself up from the roof ledge and finally turned to face him. The rain had plastered his dark brown hair to his face, making it look black. Droplets of water ran down the divot in his chin, before dripping off the end. Why did he have to be so beautiful? If you were that sodden you’d just look like a drowned rat, so you gave a quick thanks to the small electrical field you’d generated around you that stopped the rain from making contact.

“Let’s get this over with then.” Your voice - and heart - was already weary. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to never seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t answer, instead just giving you a look you couldn’t interpret before turning and walking towards the stairwell. You followed in his wake.

The journey upstate to the compound hadn’t been too arduous. Both you and Bucky had ridden your bikes, which had the dual advantage of making it easy to slip through the traffic and also negated the need for small talk. You hadn’t actually said a word to him since leaving the rooftop and you were totally fine with that.

You’d greeted Sam with a clipped ‘Hello’ and just stared through Torres when he’d shyly raised a hand in your direction. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know them.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Bucky had let out a small cough and suggested that you all go through to the briefing room and you’d nodded your assent. Now the four of you were gathered around the holographic blueprints.

“Our main issues,” said Sam, “are these gun turrets.” He pointed out the towers at each corner of the building. “Our intel says they are energy-based, which means if they can get disabled from inside the three of us should be able to get in easier.”

“That’s what we’re hoping you can do,” added Torres, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. It almost made you smile. Almost.

Sam continued. “Once we’re in, we aren’t expecting you to hang around. We know you aren’t a big fan of working with us.”

That was an understatement if ever you’d heard one, but there were bigger motivational factors involved. “You really think I’m gonna turn tail and not take the opportunity to get some payback?” you asked with a raised brow. “You don’t know me at all, Sam.”

A look of sympathy immediately took over his face. “I understand why you feel this way, but this isn’t what this mission is about. We need to shut them down and extract all the data.”

You frowned. You don’t know why you expected a different response from the new Captain America. “But you know that if we don’t stop them - neutralise every single one of them - then they’ll just regroup. Reform. We’ll - You’ll - be no better off than you were before and you’ll just have to hunt them down again another day.” The words came out sharply as your frustration grew.

“We’re not going there with the express intent of murdering people.” Sam bit back. “I’m a realist - I understand that there will be deaths - but I’m not going out of my way to create the highest body count possible.”

There was a moment of silence before you said, “You’re a bleeding heart, Wilson. No mercy should be shown to HYDRA because they sure as hell won’t show you any.”

You turned on your heel and stalked from the room, walking along the corridor until you reached one of the glass walls that allowed you to look out over the forest surrounding the semi-secret base. You weren’t even there a minute before you felt a prickle up your spine. Your hands, that had been resting on your ribs where your arms were crossed, curled into fists.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you ground out between gritted teeth. He moved to stand beside you, leaning on the railing, and you could see him out of your peripheral vision.

“He’s a good man, you know. It’s why Steve gave him the shield and not me. He knew that for the mantle of Captain America you have to have some level of optimism.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “But it just seems so pointless.”

“You know I get it. We have a different outlook, you and I. As much as Sam can empathise with what we went through, try his best to understand, he will never get it. Much the same way that I can’t ever fully understand what it was like for him, being who he is, to grow up in this America. We just have to stick to our truths, and bend once in a while when it’s prudent to do so.” He turned towards you then, flashing a wry grin and you couldn’t help but turn your head as well. “And besides, what Wilson doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Bucky pushed away from the railing and started to walk back towards the conference room. Part way along he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “You coming? We’ve got some HYDRA ass to kick. And by kick, I mean shoot in the head.”

Large hands spanned your waist, gripping firmly but not cruelly. Your legs were hooked over the arms connected to them, holding you wide open. Your eyes, only open a crack, could see the way his dark hair flopped down in front of his face, could see the way his body glistened with sweat as he pumped in and out of you. His muscles strained and his jaw was set.

“Fuck, honey,” Bucky exclaimed. “Feels so fucking good.” Your only reply was a whine as you dropped a hand down between you to strum at your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good. Wanna feel you come.” If you’d been capable of giggling at his statement you would have, because you’d come twice already - once on his face and once on his fingers. The man was insatiable for your pleasure. You weren’t gonna complain about it.

“Bucky!” you breathed out, not sure what you were actually trying to say, but hoping he could pick up on the tone. The air crackled, its molecules excited by your semi-conscious manipulation of the electric field around you. You could feel yourself rushing towards that peak, your core clenching - pulsing - around where Bucky was filling you with each delicious thrust.

He dropped his head, taking one of your pebbled nipples in his mouth and sucked on it. The sensation pulled tightly on the invisible thread that ran through your body to where the pair of you were joined. Tighter. Firmer. Higher…

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright as you gulped in lungful after lungful of air. Your hands shook and your skin was sweaty and you silently cursed Bucky Barnes as you flopped back down and pressed one of the pillows over your face. You hadn’t had a sex dream about him in weeks, but it stood to reason that as he was back disrupting your waking hours he’d do the same to your sleep as well.

Frustration welled up inside of you, and with a grunt you threw the pillow across the room, hearing it thud against the generic dresser. You were in one of the ‘guest’ rooms at the compound. White walls. White furniture. Grey bedding, curtains and carpet. It was fucking depressing. You were just glad that you weren’t going to be here for long. Just a few more days of going through the reconnaissance intel and running some training drills in the state of the art suite downstairs and then you’d be on the mission for real. Then, when it was over, you were going to leave - leave New York. Leave the state. Heck, you might even leave the country. 

You flipped over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to go back to sleep in, but every time you closed your eyes your mind conjured the image of Bucky looking at you as if you were the only thing in his world that had meaning. Sleep was a long time coming.

Three mornings later and you were up early, just finishing getting dressed where there was a knock on your bedroom door. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know who it was. Lightly slapping your hands against your legs, you strode over and opened the door. Bucky stood there, his fingers all twisted around each other until he seemed to jump at the realisation of what he was doing and put them both behind his back. A smile played at the corners of your mouth. The highlight of the last few days had been the discovery that Bucky was as discombobulated by your presence as you were by his. The only difference was that you seemed to be able to hide it better. That knowledge had allowed you to sleep better the last few nights - the schadenfreude was delicious. And if you’d then played up to it - accidentally rubbed past him in small spaces, or laugh and flirt with a sweetly awkward Joaquin? Well it was exactly what Bucky deserved in your opinion.

You looked up at him with a raised brow and leant against the door, arms folded across your breasts, and you noted the minute flicker of his gaze down and then back up. “Can I help you, Buck?” 

He scowled as you over-pronounced the start and end of his nickname. “I came to see if you were ready. We need to leave in twenty.”

“It’s not my first rodeo, Sargent, a fact you well know. As you can see,” you gestured down the length of your body with your hand, “I managed to get dressed all on my own. I can manage to achieve a surprising amount of things without your help.”

You pushed away from the door and snagged your go back from the floor. It didn’t have a lot in it because unlike the others you only relied on your abilities for both offence and defence. No guns, knives, vibranium arms, shields or wings.

Bucky didn’t move away as you exited your room, causing you to brush against him to get by. As you did so, pointedly not looking at him, his right hand shot out and snagged your upper arm. “Honey, please can we t-”

You shook your arm free angrily. “You don’t get to call me that,” you hissed. “You lost that right months ago. And no, we’re not gonna talk. I said it before, and I’ll say it again. After this mission we never see each other again.” With that, you turned your back on him and stalked in the direction of the hanger. He didn’t try to stop you and you wondered why you felt a lump in the pit of your stomach about it.

Chapter 2

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318

[gothcsz]

Wait wait wait I didn't realize yall posted the challenge!!! Ughhh but I can't choose. You choose for me? Either 🐊 or 🐍 please 💕

kait how dare you ask ME, the most indecisive bitch ever, to choose for you ?!?!?! help.... jk okay you got our fave pilot aka frankie morales 🖤 loved writing this prompt and i just know you're gonna eat it up ! anywho, if you have any questions pls let either of us know ok kisses the moodboard + prompt are under the cut < 3

[ find writing challenge details here 🔪💋 ]

🐊 Frankie Morales x Swamp Monster

He’s got charm and knowledge to lead boat tours—spinning tales of gators and ghosts, luring in wide-eyed tourists with your story. The woman who drowned in these waters long ago. Murdered. Dumped. Forgotten. Now a spirit they say haunts the murk; beautiful and vengeful. He doesn’t believe it, of course. It’s just good business. Urban legends sell tickets. The thing is… you are real. You died with a scream in your throat and mud in your mouth. But the marsh took you in, cradled your rage, reshaped you into something else. Something made of bone and sludge and glistening scales, with eyes that glow like fireflies and lips the color of bruised plums. The everglade is your skin now. The roots are your nerves. The black water your blood. And it aches for him. You watch from the shallows as he smiles for strangers, never knowing the spirit he exploits is looming with a hunger older than his bloodline. You let him drift through your waters untouched, night after night, eyes blending with those of the gators. You want to feel his pulse flutter against your tongue, his hands tangled in your hair, hips pressed against the muck, breath caught between moans and fear. You want to drag him down until the swamp has him the same way it took you.

[dreamland-library]

Moodboards masterlist

This is my graveyard for the moodboards I will not write about… no, I will not… well… maybe…

• Moodboards masterlist #2 • Main Masterlist •

Adrian Chase

Vigilante (Adrian Chace x Kryptonian!Reader)

Aemond Targaryen

The Bastard Princess (Aemond Targaryen x Daemon’s daughter!Reader)

Phantom of the Opera AU (Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Strong)!Reader)

Aleksander Morozova

see moodboard masterlist #2

Alfie Solomons

see moodboard masterlist #2

Bane

Stolen - Bane x warlord’s daughter!Reader

Bane x mayor!Reader (LP version)

Bane x mayor!Reader (GG version)

Catwoman - Bane x Fox!Reader 

Catwoman - Bane x Fox!Reader (Joker version)

Heist AU- thief!Bane x hacker!Reader

Billy Russo

see moodboard masterlist #2

Bishop Losa

Zombie Apocalypse AU

Boba Fett

Stargate AU - goa'uld!Boba x SG team member / tok'ra!Reader inspired by this?

Professor AU

Supernatural AU - hunter!Boba Fett x Reader (hunter!Fennec Shand)

RED AU - ex CIA agent!Boba x CIA agent!Reader

Brother Day

Day & Night

Bucky Barnes

Neverland AU - Captain James “Hook”!Bucky x Tigerlily!Reader x “Crocodile”!Namor

Caspian

Caspian x witch!reader

Daemon Targaryen

The dragon has three heads - Daemyra x Targaryen!Reader

The Pirate Queen AU - pirate!Daemon Targaryen x Pirate Queen Rhaenys’ daughter!Reader

Eddie Brock/Venom

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo AU - Eddie Brock x hacker!Reader inspired by @fabuloustomhardy’s edit

Eddie Munson

Three - Eddie Munson x powered!Reader

The Banished - fox fae!Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson x dark genie!Reader inspired by @harrywavycurly’s not genie

Éomer

Immortality/The choice - Éomer x Reader x Haldir

Feyd-Rautha

Fae AU - dark fae!Feyd-Rautha x light fae Atreides!Reader

Dream of a lifetime - Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Feyd-Rautha x Earthling!Reader

Haldir

Immortality/The choice - Éomer x Reader x Haldir

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Star Wars AU - Rebel pilot!Jake Seresin x Ren!Reader

Pen Pals

The Proposal AU - Jake Seresin x doctor!Reader

Epic(ish) AU - fae!Jake Seresin x Reader

James Delaney

James Delaney x blind!Reader

Biker AU

Maliksi

The Other Trese - Maliksi x Alexandra’s twin!Reader

Namor

Alliance - Namor x Killmonger’s cousin!Reader

Neverland AU - Captain James “Hook”!Bucky x Tigerlily!Reader x “Crocodile”!Namor

Nathan Bateman

Altered Carbon AU

Poe Dameron

The Pink and Blue Ribbon made for @the-little-ewok’s Poe x Reader fic

Robb Stark

The Wolf and the Lion - Robb Stark x Lannister!Reader

Sesshōmaru

Sesshōmaru x cat yōkai!Reader

Tommy Shelby

Men (modern AU) - Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons

What Dreams May Come AU

Treadway

Succession

FIREFLY-GRAPHICS MOODBOARD CHALLENGE

(Billy Russo/Darkling, Bucky Barnes, Sherlock Holmes, Tony Stark, WandaxVision)

500 FOLLOWERS MOODBOARD CHALLENGE

(Daemon Targaryen, Valyrian OCs, Darkling/Aleksander Morozova, Eddie Munson and other Stranger Things characters, Hangman and Coyote, Alfie Solomons, Eames)

[pleasedonthurtcjstar]

My end of the year Big post of RemRom collection 2022

Sadly this isn’t all. Some posts are missing. Check out Instagram, YouTube, Ao3, and other Tumblrs for missing content.

(+) means it has other sides that may or may not be ship worthy.

💋 means 18+. Used in the fanfic section

Video Edits

Build-A-Bitch

Baseball Bat

As It Was

I Do Know Your Sides? (+)

He’s Looking at You

Feel Good

Moodboards

Royalty

Skaterboi!Roman Ballerina Remus

Fuck (+)

Orange and Spiky

Romantic Lovers

Crinkle Remus

Abandoned Parks

End of the World

Mr. Prince and Mr. Duke

Summers Night

Lost at Sea

Orchard

Dark Royalty (+)

Hades and Persephone AU

Sunlight

Apples

Cooler than Me

Photos (+)

Gifs / Photo Edit // Misc

Ambrosia and Ichor || Moodboard, Misc

👀 || Gif (+)

Slug Reaction || Gif

Shades || Photo Edit

Thinking || Photo Edit

Color Swap || Photo Edit

Winter || Photo Edit

Twilight || Photo Edit

Haha Help || Photo Edit

RemRom Dividers || Misc

Fanfics

Human Interaction || Fanfic, Moodboard (+)

Thinking of you || Fanfic, Photo edit

Would You? || Ao3

FireFlies 💋 || Ao3

What a Normal Person would do 💋 || Ao3

Art / Coloring / Misc

Girls || Art

Contributes to the Community

RemRom Winter Exchange 2022 || Ao3

Participated Events

Remus and Roman Hot Girl Summer

Please Do Ya Promise Moodboard Challenge

Check out: 2021

[dreamlandcreations]

Pets aesthetic

Magical AU

cursed warlock!Billy Russo x witch!Reader

After you killed that evil... witch you took her poor, abused familiar. The prettiest black cat you've ever seen. He helps you with your magic and makes you laugh when you feel down.

Billy definitely wants to let you know he is not just a pet. Eventually. Until the right time comes he wants to enjoy every minute he can spend with his beautiful witch. And the cuddles, he loves the cuddles.

• moodboards masterlist • • moodboard challenge masterlist •

[firefly-graphics]

Sherlock Holmes - Dark Academia

Please like and reblog if you use or save

Requested by @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ for the moodboard challenge

Aesthetics List

[bxcketbarnes]

pov: you're a new student and capture the attention of a biophysics student 💗

a/n: @firefly-graphics i hope using tasm!peter is okay!

[yepperoniro]

Sources

🤍 💙 💜

🖤 💜 💙

💜 🖤 🤍

This is for you @firefly-graphics , I don't know if you will like it or not. I don't know much of anything about LoL. Sorry 🙇‍♀️

[navybrat817]

Around Your Throat

Pairing: Vampire Mob!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!Female Reader Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat. Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, f/ingering, b/iting, p/ossessive behavior, b/lood, feel (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Moodboard - yours truly A/N: Set before Lay Me Down, we're visiting our vampire to kick off Hot Bucky Summer challenge hosted by @buckybarnesevents! Theme - "What should I wear?" ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stood in front of the full length mirror, a frown on your face as you looked over yourself. The black and gold gown you wore was beautiful, the v-neckline and fitted bodice drawing attention to your chest. Bucky had it designed for you, with your approval. He wanted only the best for his bride-to-be.

The fact that he had a matching suit almost put a smile on your face.

But you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t happy with your look. You thought for a moment that the dress was too much for a dinner, especially since you would be one of the only people at the table eating an actual meal. As Bucky’s future mate and your father’s daughter, however, it was the expectation that you’d look your best.

At least I won't have to create an illusion since I'll be amongst Bucky’s friends for the evening.

“I'm not sure about this,” you told your fiancé since he insisted on being in the room as you got ready, admiring your side profile with a sigh. "Should I change into something else?"

"Why would you change when you look good enough to eat?"

You spun around to face him, your breath catching when he stood from his chair and straightened his tie. He slicked his hair back for the evening and you longed to run your fingers through it to make a mess of it. This man managed to steal your heart and he would be the reason you took your last breath.

He was both your ending and your new beginning.

"Just what every girl wants to hear when she goes to feast with vampires," you teased, turning back to the mirror.

"If you sensed something was wrong, we wouldn't attend," he pointed out. He wouldn't risk your safety. He assured your father of that. "Should I tell Steve to play host while we skip it?"

"No, my love, because nothing is wrong," you assured him. You trusted his friends and the only gut feeling you sensed was that your evening would end happily. You looked forward to it.

"Then what's the matter?" he asked as he crossed the room and placed his hands on your hips. Though you couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, you imagined his blue eyes either darkened or glowed at the sight of you. Both stares always set the blood on fire in your veins. “Do you not like the dress? Should I rip it to shreds?”

“Don’t you dare,” you answered, narrowing your eyes when he chuckled. “I love this dress.”

“If you won’t let me tear this gown from your body, at least let me lift the skirt and bury myself in your pussy again,” he said, making you gasp when his cool lips brushed the shell of your ear. Your core throbbed at the idea, tempted to let him bend you over in front of the mirror as he took you apart. Once he turned you, you wouldn’t see your reflection ever again. “And if you love it, why have you stood here for the last two minutes, spinning and frowning at every angle?”

“As much as I’d love for you to ravage me, I don’t think we have time,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “And something’s missing. I can’t figure out what.”

Bucky hummed, gripping your chin to turn your head toward him. “I can get you off quickly," he said, which was true. "And you're missing an accessory. You need something around your throat.”

“Of course,” you smiled softly. Such a simple solution to a ridiculous problem. “What should I wear?"

He moved his hand to your neck before you could go to the armoire, making you moan when his fingers tightened. “I have something perfect in mind.”

“As much as I love this type of necklace,” you said, wetting your lips with your tongue. “I can’t go the whole meal with your hand around my throat.”

Bucky chuckled again, spinning you and pinning your back against the mirror with lightning speed. You trembled when his eyes began to glow, your blood rushing through your veins at the sight of his fangs. The mix of pain and pleasure whenever they pierced your skin brought you to a euphoric state. It was no wonder some begged to become a blood mistress or paramour.

You were lucky enough that you would belong to Bucky forever.

“And just because I can’t ravage you with my cock right this second doesn’t mean I can go through an entire meal without having a taste,” he whispered, pushing the skirt up so his cold hand could slide up your inner thigh. No tights and no underwear so he could have access to what belonged to him. His rule for the evening. “I need your blood and your cunt so I can behave myself."

“You better satisfy your craving then,” you whispered, knowing he’d want more before the sun came up. "And we'll see how well you actually behave."

Vampires had no shame when it came to sex or anyone who witnessed it.

Your wet, warm folds welcomed the cool feel of Bucky's expert touch. Before you could grip his arms, he pinned your hands above your head. His strength turned you on more, which you didn’t know was possible. You were almost in a constant state of arousal around him. “You'll beg for my cock long before you finish dinner,” he whispered against your lips, teasing your entrance as he kissed down the pulse in your neck. “Don't fucking move."

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, closing your eyes to brace yourself for what was coming.

Which would be you coming all over his fingers.

“Mine,” he growled, drawing a cry from you as he sank his fangs into your soft skin and slid two fingers inside your wet walls. You did your best to keep still as he slowly thrust and moaned against your neck. A submissive position he put you in to assert his power, yet you didn't feel weak. Even as he took your life essence and pleasure as his own he empowered you.

Because in return, you’d get every part of James Buchanan Barnes.

“Please, Bucky,” you begged when his thumb toyed with your clit. You wanted to grind your hips down, but he told you to stay still. If you had more time, you would've pushed to see what kind of punishment he'd dish out. But you knew he wanted to get you off quickly, like he said he could. "Please."

“So needy, darling. One of the things I love about you,” he said when he stopped drinking, blood running from your neck down your collarbone and chest as his fingers curled. He pulled back so you could see the red fluid around his lips. The feral look in his eyes as he licked them clean, your head spinning as you teetered on the edge. “Come for me.”

Your body seized up as you gushed around his fingers, your moan of ecstasy lost as he covered your mouth with his. You tasted your blood on his tongue as helped you ride out your orgasm. Days from now you would know the taste of him. Pleasure, eternity, love.

Your new life.

It took a moment for you to realize you were no longer against the mirror as you recovered. Bucky moved you to the bed to rest for a moment and catch your breath. the pinpricks in your neck closed and your dress straightened out. “Thank you for letting me have a taste,” he said, sucking his fingers into his mouth. “Didn’t think anything could make your blood sweeter, but your pussy does the trick.”

“Best combination,” you smiled.

“My favorite,” he agreed, helping you stand once your head stopped spinning. Lust still lingered in his gaze, but you couldn't ignore the concern that shone through. "Are you okay? I didn't take too much?"

"I'm okay," you assured him. He never wanted to lose control and take more than what he needed. No matter what, you were his number one priority. "And you won't have to worry once I you turn me."

"I'll still worry," he whispered. Loving you meant having something to lose. It also meant he had something worth living for. "One more thing before we go."

You smiled when he held up an onyx pendant surrounded by diamonds, like he pulled it out of thin air. Perfect to go with your dress. "It's beautiful," you said, allowing him to put it around your neck. "How did you manage to hide that from me?"

His fingers traced the delicate, gold chain as he smiled. "Because you aren't psychic, but you get feelings. Which is probably why you felt off when you looked in the mirror. You were waiting for me to give you this."

"It's like you know my gifts better than I do," you smiled, touching the pendant before you noticed there was still blood on your neck. "I should clean myself up."

"No," he said firmly, pulling you to his chest. You suspected his heart would race only for you if it could still beat. "You'll wear my mark with the necklace I gave you and your blood on your skin. You're going to be my wife and my mate. I want everyone to see that you belong to me and that there's no shame in my want for you."

You'd wear every brand and claim of his with pride.

"This won't show them that?" you asked, holding up your hand with your engagement ring.

"Vampires don't look at hands," he said, taking yours and kissing it. "They look at throats. And anyone who sees yours will know you're mine."

And I will be until the end of time.

"And when you turn me?" you asked, brushing your hand along his cheek. "Will I get to leave my mark on you and show everyone you're mine, too?"

"You can make an entire path of bites around my throat if that's what you desire," he offered, his icy hand covering yours. "I'll wear them proudly."

Bucky loved with his entire being. Not only were you strong and willing enough to accept it, you'd give him the same love in return. You would always be in each other's care.

My eternal partner.

"I might take you up on that," you smiled, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his pants. Tempted to drop to your knees and return the favor, you asked, "Do we have time for me to take care of you?"

"We're already running late," he said, giving you a gentle kiss. "But maybe you can keep my cock warm at the table. No one will mind."

"I thought you were going to behave at dinner if you had a taste," you said, your walls clenching with the need to surround him, like he hadn't brought you to orgasm moments before.

"I will behave," he said innocently, but his eyes flashed as he showed his fangs again. "But we'll see how long you last before you try to ride me in front of everyone."

"Well, you did say I'd beg for your cock before I finished dinner."

And you suspected his hand, the necklace, and your blood would be the only things you wore around your neck once he took you to bed for the night.

Who wouldn't want an eternity with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sparkledfirecracker]

Chapter one: The Kiss

Summary: Could an innocent date turn into more?

Pairing: CEO!Andy Barber x female reader

Word count: 3742

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit language, mild mention of sexual harassment in a work setting, slow burn, fluff, no smut (I know who the hell am I?), kissing/make-out.

A/N: 18+ only, please respect that. My first add-on to the wonderful collab with @chase-your-dreams-away​ and the adventure of our gym bro shenanigans. Also my entry for her lovely 800 followers challenge. The prompt given is still to come, I couldn’t fit it into this first chapter. It’s a mild slow burn and yes, even I’m surprised by it. Smut will be delivered eventually, patience!

Not beta-read, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​ and moodboard by @chase-your-dreams-away​.

Comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

I do not consent to have my works copies, reposted or translated on any other platform. Reposts on any given platform have been posted without my permission or consent. 

BY CLICKING ON KEEP READING YOU AGREE TO BE 18+ OR OVER!!

Excitement coursed your body with the outlook of having the afternoon off. It was Andy’s regular day off, so it wouldn’t interfere with your boss’s schedule. You had been looking forward to this date but hadn’t enjoyed the interrogations from Nathalie and Tess throughout the morning. It was none of their business who you were seeing. Work and privacy were two things that needed to be strictly separated, at least in your opinion.

You had been thankful that Andy hadn’t loaded your desk with too much work. Just some emails and a few documents to file. You scoffed at the sight of Ransom Drysdale’s name, wondering why Andy would keep the creep around. He was a liability to the company, touching up ladies and being completely reckless in his actions without taking any responsibility for them. 

Walking towards the water station, you let your thoughts wander. It hadn’t been rare for you and Ransom to have verbal arguments. You let out a giggle thinking back to Andy telling you both off. His demand had been adamant - you and Ransom had to stop the nonstop bickering. The both of you pretended to try but rarely succeeded. 

Sexual harassment was a real issue. Unfortunately, some of the investments into the organization made came from the Drysdale household. Giving Ransom all the freedom he needed to stick around for as long as he did. 

You hadn’t paid attention to the water overflowing your refillable water bottle. According to Steve, it was an environmentally friendly reinforcement and an important executive decision. In his effort to figure out a way not to pollute the environment as much.

Sometimes you wanted Steve to shut up as his ideas could get out of hand a little bit, but he was one of Andy’s best friends. Having met each other during their college days and stayed good friends as the years progressed. At least Steve had always been much better company than Ransom or any of the other guys.

You scrunched up your nose in disgust, thinking of the overheard conversations about illegally fucking a girl on the job. Or only being able to talk about anything fitness related. Having caught Johnny and Colin having a pissing contest whose biceps were bigger. Only to have Curtis join in and shame them all. Ending in long conversations about what exercises the two knuckleheads had to do to get biceps like Curtis. 

“Earth to the secretary.” 

Shaking your head, getting out of your trance and noticing the water pooling at your feet. Quickly shutting the tap and meeting Natahlie’s gaze. 

“Oh Jesus, what a day already.” You mustered in the sight that had unfolded beneath you while you had let your thoughts wander. 

“Where’s your head at?”

“Nowhere.” You wanted to hit yourself on the head for replying suspiciously fast.

“What are you up to?” Nathalie asked.

“Nothing. Work.”

“You know what I mean. I saw your name crossed off the lunch list. You never take time off, especially on days when Andy’s off.” Nathalie didn’t seem to want to let go of the topic. “In your words, you love the silence and peace.”

“I have too many extra hours to catch up on.” You shrugged, grabbing a cloth from a kitchen cupboard and throwing it on the floor. Your heel tried to wipe up the spilt liquid. The pencil skirt was too tight for you to bend down. 

“Oh, spill the beans,” Tess huffed, nudging Nathalie’s shoulder. “She’s probably just going on a date.” 

You stiffened at Tess’s assumption and rolled your eyes. Nathalie’s eyes grew bigger while stopping Tess in her tracks and frantically pointing at you. 

“Oh shit, she is. She is going on a date. Finally, my baby has grown up,” Nathalie cheered. The melodramatics felt exaggerated and unnecessary. “Who is it?” 

“No one you know, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“Name.” 

“Can't remember. I would have to look it up in the app.”

“You used a dating app?” Tess questioned, making you groan. “What’s his name? Where does he live? We want you safe.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be safe. It’s a museum date.” You smiled, receiving a few awes and kissing sounds. The ping of your phone went off. Glancing at the screen. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you later.’

Heat coursed through your body while reading the sweet message. He was just as excited as you were. You knew about his feelings. He had vocalised them well enough on multiple occasions. Although your last failed relationship was still in the back of your mind. Never being treated the way you deserved, but with this man, it felt different. He was willing to go the extra mile and treat you in a way you had never experienced before. 

“He’s called Stephen.” Nathalie grinned. You scoffed at the privacy intrusion but were thankful for how he was saved on your phone. “It isn’t a bad cover-up name for Rogers, right?”

“Gross.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.

Without any more words, you grabbed your water bottle and left the wet cloth on the floor. Nathalie shouted a verbal apology after you started to walk away and back to the upper level. 

Annoyed at Nathalie’s behaviour you sat behind your desk. They could not ever know what was happening. They should’ve minded their own business instead of sticking their noses up in yours. Shrugging off the annoyance, you dove into the final few tasks of the day.

As the alarm on your phone went off, you cleared up your desk by making sure no files were in sight and locked away. You grabbed your bag and made your way down the stairs towards the locker rooms. 

After a quick change and freshening up, you took a final glance in the mirror. Twirling from side to side if the chosen outfit accentuated all the right parts of your body. A nervous smile played on your face, breathing deeply in and exhaling out the bubbling anxiety. Everything was going to be fine, it all would work out. The worst part would probably be eventually, having to resign from a job you had come to love and one you appreciated a lot.

Nerves were overtaking you when you stood in front of the steps. Your eyes scanned the crowd, hopeful to see that one familiar face you were waiting on. The Museum of Fine Arts had been his choice and one you had always wanted to go to but never been able to. 

Nervously you glanced at your watch. Maybe he was running late. Deciding to check your phone to see if he had messaged you. No notifications when you tapped on the screen. Anxiety bubbled to the surface again and you started walking back and forth. The possible thought of others staring at you, the poor hopeless girl, getting stood up by her date.

Trying to shake the intrusive thought from your mind you tried to focus on the fallen leaves on the floor. Counting them as you paced past. Your head cocked up as you heard your name being called out. The familiarity of the voice instantly warmed you up inside. 

“I’m so sorry, I waited in line to get our tickets sorted and then my booking didn’t go through. It was a nightmare.” The word vomit immediately made you feel at ease, he was just as nervous as you were. 

“It’s okay, Andy.” The warmth of his hug made you melt into him. 

“No, it’s not, I’m so sorry. I could’ve at least sent you a message.” Andy apologized again, breaking the contact between you both. His wooded smell filled your nostrils and wanting nothing more than to smell him all day. “Let’s go, because we have a lot to see. I’m excited.”

You smiled at his vulnerable statement, adoring his openness and not hiding his feelings from you. A spark jolted through your body as he grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the entrance. 

Andy hadn’t been able to contain his excitement while guiding you through the museum. His outstanding knowledge of the museum and its artefacts made you wonder why you had refused to go on an earlier date with him. You knew why, but it seemed to be an excuse not to get hurt by yet another man. 

You rounded a corner, the low-lighted room made you stop in your tracks. One of your favourite paintings hanging on the wall. 

“If I’m correct, this is one of your favourite paintings.” Andy glanced your way taking in your awed expression. “Renoir, 1883.”

“Dance at Bougival.” You both spoke in unison, a slight warmth washing over you. The view of the painting gave you chills. Not quite being able to grasp why it was making you feel the way it did. The elegant way the woman held on to the man or how maybe it was the way the man leaned into the woman held firmly in his arms. Or was it the people in the back minding their business while the couple danced away the afternoon?

“Renoir had a thing for capturing intricate details of contemporary fashions. Just look at the woman’s red bonnet trimmed with purple fruits. Another open-air cafe in suburban Bougival - the floor littered with cigarettes, burnt matches, and a small bouquet. The touch placement of their hands and intimate proximity suggest a sensuous subtext to the scene.” Andy rambled on while pointing out all the different details on the decorated canvas. 

“Dance with me?” It came out like a question, one you hadn’t intended to be a question. Your eyes grew at the realisation of having asked the question out loud. 

Without hesitation, Andy whisked an arm around your waist while the other grabbed your hand. For a second, you both mirrored the dancing pose of the painted couple. Andy portrayed the man with the straw hat while you posed as the young woman with the red hat. 

An intimate moment shared, the proximity allowing you to feel Andy’s rapid heartbeat. The fact that he still was just as nervous as you were settling some intrusive thoughts you had been trying to push at the back of your mind. You turned your head. His lips brushed against yours for a split second. Watching his jaw clench, holding back on something you both seemed to desire. With a final twirl, he spun you away from his body, bowing down at you as if to thank you for this lovely dance.

Firsthand embarrassment was felt when a few people in the room clapped at your spontaneous moment. You wanted to hide away and run out of the room, but Andy stopped you just in time. His arm wrapped around you, holding you firmly against his side. One of your palms pressed into his chest while you both giggled at your escapade. 

“I miss being this in love. It’s good to see romance isn’t lost yet. You’re such a cute couple.” An older lady spoke nodding her head as if to approve of you both. 

“We ar-” 

“Thank you very much.” Andy’s lips pursed together as he nodded back towards the old lady. “But we must get going, otherwise we’ll be late for the next surprise.”

Confusion was written all over your face, as Andy strode out of the room. 

“Why did you do that? We’re not, this is-”

“We would’ve been stuck in that room for another hour if you had said we weren’t together.”

“The woman looked harmless.”

“And she also looked like one who would tell you that you’re wasting your time being single.”

You both laughed, walking towards the other wing of the building. The exhibition hall came into sight as Andy made his way to the entrance. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am.” You confessed. “Very happy.”

The exhibition poster informed you about Italian Romanticism. Italian paintings were an ode to your art-loving obsession. The delicacy and the attention to detail never made you get bored of any of it. Just sitting in front of a painting for hours, getting lost in the world being portrayed. A loud gasp filled the air and you were quick to cover your mouth. You looked over at Andy and he just gave you one of his infamous lopsided smiles, motioning for the empty bench. 

“What attracts you to this painting so much?” Andy asked, you kept silent for a few seconds debating if you should share the intimate answer with him. 

“I adore the simplicity of this painting.” You avoided his gaze, but from the corner of your eyes, you knew he was intrigued. “The subtle touch that captures a passionate gesture between two lovers.”

“Huh.” Andy’s head tilted to the side as if he was surprised by the answer and had never really thought about it that way.

Minutes of comfortable silence filled the room, just the two of you staring at the painting and both having a mutual appreciation for art. Both your heads tilted to observe the techniques used, watching the way the swipes of the paintbrush left delicate traces on the canvas. 

Once again intrusive thoughts weaselled their way into your brain. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, keeping from exploding at the thought of what it would feel like if Andy kissed you that way. How one finger would perfectly cup your cheek while his thumb would rest on your chin. A passionate gesture of eager desire. 

The way his other hand would hold the back of your head as his lips lingered over yours, feeling the bristles of his beard gently tickle your skin. His ocean-blue eyes turning into a pool of lustful waves from desired emotions before pressing his lips against yours with a fiery passion. 

The rapid flow of thoughts bouldered through your mind like an unstoppable train. Only coming back to reality when Andy shook your shoulder lightly calling out your name. 

“Sorry?”

“Lost in thought?”

“Yes, it’s what paintings do to me. They allow me to drown in stories and questions, making me fall down this rabbit hole of thoughts.”

“I love when that happens. It’s what art is supposed to be, it has to make you feel something.”

You simply nodded, agreeing to everything Andy added to this visit. The two of you wandered around the museum, making sure to have seen everything and losing track of time. Giggling at the announcement of the museum closing soon. Lost in conversations of art, discussions about artists and their problematic history. There was much more to Andy than you had anticipated and it felt new and exciting. 

Ending up at the exit gathering your coats from the wardrobe and heading your way outside. As soon as the fresh air hit, Andy started to fidget a little. He seemed nervous again like he did when he met you outside earlier. 

“Just spit it out, Andy.” You were preparing for the worst where he would tell you he hated every bit of the date and didn’t want to do this again. Preparing for a break-up while not being fully involved yet. The heartache already felt inside your chest. An uncomfortable rhythm of beats thumping inside your ribcage. Another disappointment in the dating scene. “It’s okay if you hated every second of it. It was nice going as friends.”

You rushed through your words, looking up at his stunned expression. A desperate need to want to get out of there and your feet bolted at the thought. Only to be held back by a hand firmly gripping your elbow. 

Your body was flung back, crashing into his chest. His mouth inches away from yours. Again you noticed the calculated jaw clench. His hot breath caused goosebumps to run down your spine. While his eyes kept glancing between your eyes and your lips. For a moment hopeful that he would go the extra mile and just kiss you like you had imagined he would. 

The softness of his lips almost to be felt but instead, another disappointment washed over you when he stepped back. An immediate rush of cold air ran between your separated bodies, making you miss his warmth. 

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” He asked, awkwardly stuffing his hands inside his pocket like a teenager.

It wasn’t a question you had expected. But it certainly wasn’t a question you were mad about. Surprising would’ve been a better explanation of how to feel. 

“Yes.” You nodded and without any hesitation, almost sure he had pumped a clenched victory fist inside his pocket before grabbing your hand with the other and dragging you along.

“Before I assume anything. Did you come by bike?”

“I don’t always cycle everywhere, Mr. Barber.”

“Very formal of you,” Andy laughed. “I’m taking that as a no.”

“That would be correct.”

A wide smile appeared on his face. It was a rarity, Andy never smiled. You hadn’t seen it often, at least not at work. But the fuzzy feeling in your stomach made you smile shyly. You wanted to jump for joy and squeal, but you had to keep it together. Squealing like a schoolgirl could be done behind doors later with no Andy in sight. 

“How does a lobster roll sound?” 

“I never had one.”

Andy stopped right in his tracks. Almost too shocked to even say something, gulping like a fish himself. 

“You what?”

“I never ever had a lobster roll.” 

“We’re going to fix that. I know the best place in town.”

It hadn’t been a far walk, but you had been thankful for being able to sit down. Your feet had been sore from strolling through the museum. 

Andy had gotten himself in line to get you both a roll. He seemed so excited to be able to share this first experience with you. One he hadn’t been anticipating. It had settled your worries from earlier that he might not have been enjoying himself.

Collected by your own thoughts, you sat up straight at the thud in front of you. Watching the glass of white wine being placed in front of you. Meeting Andy’s wide smile. 

“Had to bribe the owner to let me take this outside.”

“Bribe? Well, I didn’t take you for a crook.” You giggled, accepting the small plate he handed you. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He taunted, only making you more curious.

The sliced pickles and stacked potato chips made up the decor. The warm filled bun smell was incredible. Making you excited to try it out.

You hadn’t noticed that Andy had been staring when you took your first bite. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes and were met with his hopeful blue eyes that you nodded as you chewed. A lame thumbs up followed as you couldn’t chew as quickly to give him a worded reply. 

“What?”

“You got something on your cheek.” Andy smiled.

The rare trait slowly was growing on you. It felt nice to know that you had been the source of his smile. You leaned into his touch a little as he wiped your cheek with a napkin. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” 

Dinner had been so delicious. The tender and sweet lobster was placed inside the buttered-toasted bun. A certain simplicity to the dish, but you loved every second of it. You both had eaten in silence, with an occasional ask if the other was enjoying their food or wine. The chamblis had been a nice pick on Andy’s part for sure, matching the seafood tones nicely. He had warmed your heart with every stolen glance. If you had to describe the feeling, he would be a rock on solid ground. 

Andy Barber was going to be trouble to your heart, soul and body.  

You stood in front of your door. Keys fumbling in your hand, looking at Andy once again. Not really knowing what to say and how to act. You truly enjoyed yourself on this date and hopefully, he would want to repeat it one day. 

“Thank you for today.”

“My pleasure.” 

“I enjoyed myself.”

“I did too.”

“Get home safely.” 

Andy nodded and he turned around. It had been your queue to turn around, fumbling with the keys to finally fit into the lock. Twisting the lock and opening your door. You looked over your shoulder finding Andy debating something. 

“Are you okay?”

Your question startled him, and without blinking an eye he charged your way with large steps. Making you crash into your own door. Air left your lungs at the impact. Andy’s palms rested beside your head while his lips hovered over yours. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The response was barely audible, but his lips crashed hard onto yours. A rushed need of hopeless want. A fire rapidly spread inside, rushing and flooding every inch of your body. Andy’s tongue grazed your upper lip. Granting him access to battle over dominance. 

Your hands gripped his tie and shirt, pulling him into your body. No one was watching while the man that had given you butterflies devoured every part of your mouth. A circle around your tongue, scraping your palate. You hummed at his expert control of owning you. Melting into the pressure he applied by pushing his body into yours. 

His hands cradled your head while yours rested at his waist. With another deepened kiss you fisted his shirt underneath his grey coat. You needed Andy just as much as he needed you. He was all worked up because of you and allowed you to feel every inch. Not wanting to stop the one thing that kept you both going.

Unfortunately, it stopped, and your mind tried to gain back logical thinking. Your eyes opened staring back at Andy, his lips were swollen and reddened from your make-out session while yours still held a pucker to them.

“I need to go.”

“You can stay.”

“I won’t be able to hold myself back from taking you.”

You gave him a simple nod and rested your hands on his chest. His hands covered your wrists as he took a slight step backwards. He leaned in for a final peck on your lips. Leaving you without another word said. 

For a moment you doubted yourself if this had really happened. Your fingers ghosted over your plush lips, closing the door in disbelief. As soon as the door clicked in its lock, you jumped around and squealed loudly.

[jobean12-blog]

Fallen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Werewolf AU)

Word Count: 689

Summary: Nothing will keep you from the love of your life, not your father's blade and certaintly not a seemingly irreversible curse.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing this AU and although it's short I really enjoyed it and hope to revisit! This is for @pupandkisasaesthetics aesthetic challenge! Thank you bunches to @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting such a cool challange! 💕💕The prompt I was given is shown below. I know it gives a Viking vibe but I figured it would work as them hunting the werewolf- that's where my brain went! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰 I made a moodboard but it STINKS bc I just can't do it, I'm no good at it, but I included it at the bottom just because I wanted you to see some stuff I had in mind LOL 😆

Warnings: some angst during a chase, small mention of i-n-ju-r-y and b-lo-o-d, softness too!

Your fingers dig deep into thick fur as the powerful muscles beneath propel you forward at a pace that has the wind whipping around you and chilling you to the bone.

The forest is dark except for the ethereal glow of the moon as you race through the shadows, clinging to him and silently urging him on through every labored breath.

The flight is born out of necessity, the distant sound of clashing weapons and battle cries echoing through the trees, a constant reminder that danger is still close.

As the terrain changes and becomes more uneven you tighten your grip but your fingers slip through fur matted with blood. Darkness closes in around you, the trees growing denser and forming an almost protective barrier as you weave about the trunks.

You can feel his heart pound in rhythm with yours, his muscles strained and taut with tension. You whisper to him, a soft murmur against the backdrop of the night and with renewed strength he surges forward, carrying you closer to safety.

Just when it seems he can go no further, a clearing emerges ahead, your sanctuary. He surges forward with one last determined stride and collapses on the stone pathway.

The small cottage seems to have sprung from the very fabric of the woods, the weathered stones surrounded by overgrown moss and vegetation, blending in seamlessly within the trees.

You slide from his body, hot tears streaming down your face as you run your hands over his large body. The wound on his hind leg is deep, the dark red blood still seeping out.

“James,” you cry. “Please.”

Bright blue eyes meet yours and he whimpers before nuzzling his nose under your hand.

“Please,” you beg.

He heaves himself from the ground and limps toward the doorway. You rush forward and open it, helping him inside before he collapses again, unmoving other than the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

It’s late into the night when you finally get the bleeding to stop, his wound cleaned and covered. Your hands are stained red but your tears have dried as exhaustion takes over and you lay your head against his fur.

Sleep comes quickly but it’s fitful, plagued by the nightmares of what’s hunting you. When you awake you’re curled up between four legs, your body cocooned and warm in his soft fur.

You stretch your aching muscles and sit up to check on his leg.

“You haven’t changed back,” you say quietly.

“You were shivering in the night,” he answers as his tail settles on your lap, keeping you warm still.

You burrow closer to him and scratch behind his ears.

“Thank you.”

It’s just a whisper, barely audible to human ears.

His body starts to shift, the long back fur receding and bones realigning. Muscles ripple under skin, adjusting to their new form and sharp claws retract, leaving behind long human fingers.

With a trembling hand James reaches out, his blue eyes still holding something wild and feral, but when his skin brushes yours, tender and vulnerable, you fall into his embrace and feel him sag under your acceptance.

“We cannot stay here,” he murmurs. “Your father will never stop hunting me.”

You lift your hand, cradling his cheek, the skin underneath still lined with a shadow of hair, and brush your finger over his lips.

“Then I will never stop running,” you tell him as you lean closer.

His dark hair falls in front of his face and your fingers trace his jaw before you tuck it back behind his ear. He runs his nose along your skin with a deep inhale, down your throat and back up again until he finds your lips, a satisfied growl rumbling through his chest.

“You would leave it all behind?”

His question is gentle, a gasp against your lips as he wraps his large hand around your waist and pulls you closer.

“There is nothing for me there…not without you.”

Your name falls from his parted lips, leaving nothing but the breath between you and when his lips press to yours he consumes you, body and soul.

@book-dragon-13 @goldylions @sebstanwhore @hiddles-rose @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @kmc1989 @lookiamtrying @randomfandompenguin @late-to-the-party-81 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

[late-to-the-party-81]

The Search

AN: A further drabble, one of two today, mostly composed in a field at a festival. Have a snippet of our boys just being themselves with each other - i.e. being little shits.

Once more, unbeta’d

If you would like to be added to my tag list, click here.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Likes are loved, Reblogs are golden

Master List | SRB Master List | Stucky Geek Bingo Master list

Challenges and Bingos:

SGR Bingo Square A5  - Treasure Hunter

Stucky Geek Bingo Square O2 - Fighting over the remote

Summary: Steve’s on the hunt… within his own apartment. Will he find the object that Bucky has hidden from him?

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

WC: 650

CW: Domestic Fluff, is domestic crack a tag? it is now, Steve and Bucky being shits to each other, it’s their love language, boys kissing

Steve crept forward with all the stealth he could muster, which was quite a lot compared to most people, but much less than Bucky. The fact that he had to do this in the first place was a sign he shouldn’t be doing it, but he’d been an affectionate thorn in Bucky’s side since 1925 and just because it was almost 100 years later didn’t mean he had any intention of stopping soon.

He’d checked all of the obvious places first - Bucky was the master of the double and triple bluff after all - but no joy, so now Steve was having to think like Bucky. As he’d been in the living room anyway, he’d started there, checking the bookshelves, including the books themselves in case one was a fake book with a hiding place inside. 

It was never going to be that easy.

The prize he was searching for wasn’t in the kitchen, or the bathroom. It wasn’t in either of their studies or the bedroom. Heck, he’d even checked the linen closet in the hallway, between the stacks of Egyptian cotton sheets. Where could it be? He was driven by his stubbornness now, so determined to find the treasure that he’d almost lost interest in the reason he’d been looking for it in the first place.

A few frustrating hours later found Steve on his hands and knees, checking the floorboards, their apartment in disarray.. He knew Bucky had hidden things under loose boards in the past. Maybe it was a habit he still kept up? He was so focused on achieving his goal he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind him. 

”Whatcha’ doin’?”

Steve leapt into the air with a shout, whirling around to face… a grinning Bucky. A Bucky who had his hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

”Jeez, Buck. You scared me.”

Bucky removed his hands from his pockets and stalked forward, his gaze suddenly heavy and Steve gulped. He stopped scant inches from Steve’s body and looked him in the eye.

”Aren’t you supposed to be the world’s greatest tactician, Steve,” he drawled. “How didn’t you notice I was here? I wasn’t even trying to be quiet. Could it be that you were too distracted looking for something you shouldn’t have been, to be paying attention?”

The condescending tone made Steve feel two things at once. Firstly, it made him feel like he was still ninety-eight pounds and five foot six inches. The pout that appeared on his face was effectively an automatic reflex. Secondly, it made him feel desire. There had always been something in the way that Bucky spoke to him that made his body come alight. However, in this moment, the pout won out.

”I wasn’t gonna use it, Buck. Jus’ wanted to know where it was. For later. Unless you forgot where you put it.”

”Uh-huh?” Bucky took a step forward and Steve stepped back instinctually. His back hit the wall and his brain started to flash ‘Danger’ signs at him. His cock started to rejoice. “Are you telling the truth, Stevie? ‘Cause you know you’re not supposed to watch the next episode without me.”

Bucky was so close now, his breath hot on Steve’s cheek, his bulky body crowding Steve against the wall. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut as Bucky’s crotch brushed against his and…

His eyes shot open in realisation that all of his efforts had been in vain. He’d never have been able to find it, no matter how long he’d searched. He cocked an eyebrow and gave Bucky a withering look. “Is that a TV remote in your pocket, Buck? Or are you just pleased to see me?” he deadpanned.

The shit-eating grin was back. “Both,” said Bucky. “Both is good.” Then Bucky leaned in for a kiss and Steve forgot what he was mad about or the fact that he been going to sneak in the next episode of Bake Off on his own…

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@crayongirl-linz, @mightstill, @nicoline1998enilocin, @starrkermarvel,

@king814318, @scram1326

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB's Recommendation List: March

Welcome to March’s recommendation. Down below is the link to February’s part 2 featuring Peaky Blinders, Bucky Barnes, and more. March is a very busy month for me, I’m traveling all over to see specialists, so there may be more stories than usual, or there could be fewer. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, or your stories, or even just your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you are enjoying the new theme on the blog for March, as St. Patrick’s day holds a special day in my heart. My folks got married on that day in an intimate ceremony and again in July in a bigger ceremony many years ago, before many of your parents got together.

🌹 Feb. '23 Pt. 2

March '23 Pt. 2 🍀

Masterlist

A Handsome Stranger >> John Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Me and The Devil >> Alfie Solomons x Reader (Moodboard)

In Death's Realm >> Fortunate Souls Playlist, "Death has feelings, death weeps, death feels anger, death has hopes and dreams, and death has a heart."

Have It All by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Keep Us Safe by @zablfie >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Make A Good Thing Bad >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella (Moodboard)

My Darling Tommy (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x Reader "I do not think such a smile or happiness will be known till we are in each other's arms once more."

Lighthouse Vacation (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

Happy Birthday Buck (Moodboard + Drabble) >> Bucky Barnes x OFC!Sparrow Lake

How About Now by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader (Moodboard)

Polly Gray x Aberama Gold (Moodboard) "Across the vast quantity of multiverses, Polly Gray always fell in with Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold himself fell madly deeply in love with Mrs. Gray."

The Blackbird and The Lionheart (Playlist) >> Polly Gray x Aberama Gold

HEADCANON'S:

Being Finn's Twin Sister by @mindful-of-ideas >> I loved seeing more Finn Shelby on my dashboard.

ONE-SHOTS:

Fireflies by @acewritesfics >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Extended version of her Moodboard and Blurb. | Did I cry? Yes. Would I read it again? Yes, times a million. It's such a beautiful story, yet so sad.

A Handsome Stranger by @zablife >> Vampire!John Shelby x Reader - Summary: You meet a handsome man one night in a club who makes you feel a powerful desire for him. The events of the evening grow increasingly strange and difficult to comprehend. | I did not see that end coming at all, but then again, with all of Lee's writing, she always takes me by surprise with her endings! I hope to see more vampire!Shelby family.

BLURBS:

Pizza and Champagne. by @peakyscillian >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: A peek into your and Tommy's life. | So good, and I would love to have a night like this with Modern!Tommy.

Three's A Party by @peakyscillian >> Tommy Shelby x Reader x Ginger!Lady - Summary: You and Tommy have a threesome with a frequent female patron from The Garrison. Tommy thinks he just might be in Heaven. | This is so very hot. Please enjoy it.

MINI-SERIES:

Keep Us Safe by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Family history repeats itself when your daughter is taken by parish authorities. This time Tommy won't let them get away with it. | This story will make your eyes water and your heartache, but you will see a father's true desperation to do whatever it takes to make his family whole. Lee, you did such an outstanding job with this story.

What About Now by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy has been hard at work with your children Charlie and Ruby, planning something extra special for you. | This is very beautiful, and I absolutely adore it. Tommy puts so much effort into doing something for his significant and evolving his children. Be still my heart.

DRABBLES:

Request: Ties and Baton by @dameronscopilot >> Steven Grant x f!reader - Summary/Request: Okay, but now that you’ve mentioned it, Steven using his tie and batons on the reader. | I read the warnings, I promise I did, but I still did not expect it to be as hot as it was.

ONE-SHOT:

Favorite Kind of Trouble by @amhrosina >> Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock - Summary: Frank and you get up to no good at a gala event, and Matt’s enhanced senses can’t help but focus on the pretty sounds you’re making from across the room. | Be prepared to read something that has just the right amount of spiciness to it.

Present by @crazyunsexycool >> Alpha!Stucky x Reader - Summary: Reader has never presented as a beta, alpha, or omega, but she still managed to find the loves of her life. If she isn't presented, then why is she in the middle of a mission, cramping and hunched over, craving her two loves so badly? | If you are looking for some spicy Stucky x Reader, look no further. This will have you covered.

SERIES:

Push & Pull by @milkymoon2483 >> Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OC Hannah Friedman - Summary: You’re going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama, but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM, your dad’s long-time friend and probably the most attractive man you have ever met. When Frank finally sees you and realizes that you’re all grown up, he struggles with accepting his budding feelings for you. | Please do yourself a favor and go and read this, especially if you are on a Frank Castle kick or if you are a sad bunny like me. This story is just perfect. The emotions that are portrayed through the writing are just beautiful.

ONE-SHOTS:

Can You See His Silhouette? by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: You get your period and without anything to help you with it, you're mortified. Luckily Joel is there to help. | This is really sweet, leaving me wishing for Joel to take care of me.

Compass by @frenchiereading >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: You receive an unexpected visit that threatens to tip over the fragile balance you’ve been trying to maintain for the sake of your love, your family, and your marriage. Set about a year after the events of the movie. | Grab some tissues for this one, folk, because let me just say, you'll need them.

Crossroads of His Heart by @jake-g-lockley >> Frankie Morales x reader - Summary/Prompt: “would you acknowledge my feelings for you if i kissed you right now? you can’t seem to take a damn hint, [name]”, Glancing at you but immediately looking away when you catch them, Almost kissing, but someone walks in. | Can you tell I'm on a Triple Frontier kick, and I'm getting my fix? This was so adorable, especially the cotton candy scene.

Lush by @javierpinme >> Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!Reader - Summary: You buy a sex toy and accidentally send a request to your hot neighbor to join in. | Is this really hot? Yes. Did I need to splash cold water on myself after reading? Very much so.

Stay by @dameronscopilot >> Kacey Dutton x Reader - Summary: When a downtrodden Kayce arrives on your doorstep at nearly midnight on New Year’s Eve and shares unexpected news, reigning in the feelings you’ve harbored for him for years becomes exceedingly difficult. | I'm a big fan of Yellowstone, and Kacey is my favorite character, so I freaked out when I saw this. It's something I didn't know I needed and I want more of in my life. Please go read if you are a fan of Lukas Grimes or Yellowstone!

Worth the Risk by @melodygatesauthor >> Santiago "Pope" Garcia X f!Reader - Summary: You're visiting your hometown on college break, and you are staying overnight at your best friend's house. You never realized how attractive her dad was until that night. You wonder if he feels the same. | An Oscar Isaac character *chefs kiss* and some spiciness, just what everyone needs.

The Wow Factor by @movievillainess721 >> Frankie Morales x Plus Size!Female!Reader - Summary: You now owe Santi a favor. | Can something be adorable and hot at the same time? Well, this was.

MINI-SERIES:

*Grays Part 1 & Part 2 by @fuckyeahdindjarin >> Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader - Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head. | I only give you the summary of part 1, but trust me, you will want to read both parts. Part two is spicy, but part one is the teasing, and I just love this so much.

MOODBOARDS:

Arthur + Wedding by @acewritesfics >> Arthur Shelby x Reader | Arthur and Reader sneaking off just warms my heart. I need more Arthur in my life now.

Men (Modern AU) by @dreamlandcreations >> Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons - Blurb | TOMMY'S WHAT?!? Alex does a wonderful job making your jaw drop. Beautiful moodboard.

Your Eyes by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby - Poem | Such a beautiful poem and moodboard, Selene.

@acewritesfics - Ace was one of the very first Peaky Blinder writers I followed on Tumblr when I returned, and I'm so glad I did. I don't just follow her peaky content. I follow because Ace is so kind in her feedback on other people's content and just encouraging. She is definitely someone you want on your dashboard.