#navy and roo sleepover

[frostironfudge]

I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there. 

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features. 

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family. 

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other. 

Won together. 

Lost together. 

In the past few days died together. 

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory. 

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago. 

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor. 

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder. 

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it. 

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.” 

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?” 

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head. 

Wanda looks down at her hands. 

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re  preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all. 

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?” 

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you. 

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off. 

“I know, I did too.” 

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone. 

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart. 

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him. 

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows. 

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him. 

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places. 

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.” 

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene. 

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you. 

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens. 

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans. 

You stand there dumbfounded. 

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.  

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor. 

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you. 

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body. 

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you. 

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain. 

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.” 

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.” 

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face. 

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing. 

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell. 

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam. 

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated 

that about the company’s past. 

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you. 

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away. 

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems. 

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together. 

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia. 

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed. 

Opening it reveals a burner phone. 

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle. 

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it. 

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him. 

Opening the text. 

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain. 

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol. 

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair. 

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?” 

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink. 

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync. 

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun. 

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.” 

“So confident.” You raise your brows. 

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck. 

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face. 

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes. 

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you. 

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own. 

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.” 

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late. 

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel. 

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down. 

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.” 

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?” 

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand. 

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head. 

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle. 

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well. 

Both of you burst out laughing. 

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room. 

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?” 

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers. 

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered. 

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart. 

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes. 

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow. 

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself. 

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself. 

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him. 

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level. 

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights. 

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him. 

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him. 

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them. 

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried. 

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab. 

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn. 

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup. 

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own. 

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more. 

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him. 

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD. 

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him. 

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts. 

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare. 

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits. 

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury. 

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair. 

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all. 

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff. 

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes. 

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds. 

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods. 

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder. 

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow. 

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.” 

No one nods. 

Nick shakes his head leaving the room. 

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder. 

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further. 

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh. 

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan. 

Nat and Sam stare at you. 

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched. 

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze. 

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust. 

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.” 

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile. 

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead. 

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone. 

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back. 

His mouth opens again to speak. 

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?” 

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out. 

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting. 

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head. 

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators. 

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator. 

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him. 

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away. 

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator. 

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you. 

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers. 

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again. 

People trickle in and out. 

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you. 

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him. 

Finally it's just the two of you. 

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender. 

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched. 

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker. 

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him. 

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes. 

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge. 

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him. 

“You lied?” You repeat. 

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,” 

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up. 

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,” 

The doors open to your floor, you step out. 

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!” 

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door. 

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading. 

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over. 

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place. 

Mixed training was now mandatory. 

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you. 

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties. 

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down. 

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh. 

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh. 

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.” 

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen. 

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you. 

You grin at him. 

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Y/N.” 

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there. 

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench. 

Sam takes his arm away. 

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem. 

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news. 

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.” 

You glare at him, “Alright.” 

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough. 

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout. 

You frown in recognition. 

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him. 

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead. 

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans. 

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands. 

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space. 

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you. 

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper. 

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps. 

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area. 

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.” 

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path. 

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward. 

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him. 

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate. 

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck. 

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him? 

Why do you miss him? 

He hurt you. 

He lied. 

He hurt you. 

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway. 

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way. 

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall. 

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!” 

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you. 

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing. 

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous. 

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps. 

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort. 

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across. 

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew. 

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you. 

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it. 

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him. 

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,” 

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place. 

Your palms cover his, you look up at him. 

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him. 

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view. 

“Poppet, something is wrong.” 

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled? 

Why was he falling to his knees? 

You look behind him, people standing and watching. 

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him. 

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield. 

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up. 

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body. 

Steve keeps his eyes closed. 

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers. 

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath. 

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them. 

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration. 

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm. 

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher. 

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend. 

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.” 

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own. 

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city. 

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside. 

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair. 

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you. 

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...” 

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors. 

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core. 

“Steve—,” 

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you. 

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns. 

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?” 

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out. 

“I see and why is she yours?” 

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.” 

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.  

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens. 

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling. 

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked. 

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper. 

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place. 

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.” 

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch. 

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him. 

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured. 

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.” 

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed. 

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper. 

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again. 

“You can’t have him at risk again!” 

“I won’t let you die!” 

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you. 

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.” 

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts. 

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,” 

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.” 

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out. 

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features. 

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him. 

“He’s in the United Kingdom.” 

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?” 

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!” 

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you. 

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive. 

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way. 

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain. 

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault. 

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad. 

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.” 

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento. 

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across. 

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows. 

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off. 

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him. 

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over. 

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him. 

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief. 

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well. 

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away. 

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin. 

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you. 

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there. 

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop. 

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek. 

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you. 

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,” 

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall. 

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you. 

When your thighs clench around him,  Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos. 

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before. 

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched. 

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him. 

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy. 

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders. 

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture. 

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly. 

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet. 

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that  he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek. 

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

[buckets-and-trees]

SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k  Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: power imbalance; bribery; workplace manipulation; explicit language; NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT; explicit smut: risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him. 

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters. 

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras. 

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table. 

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said. 

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly. 

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours. 

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment. 

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way. 

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped. 

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face. 

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. 

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back. 

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you. 

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched. 

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you. 

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter. 

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips. 

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you. 

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet…

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.” 

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you.  “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.” 

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel. 

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer. 

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him. 

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort. 

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy. 

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.” 

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers. 

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering. 

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure. 

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted. 

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted. 

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements. 

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release. 

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him. 

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest. 

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again. 

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word. 

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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[mochie85]

The Chase

These Wicked Games Collection | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You and Loki continue the poker game from earlier in the night. A/N: This is a sequel to my Poker Face fic. You don't have to read that first. But I would greatly appreciate it if you do 🥰. I'm thinking this is going to be part of a collection. This won't be the last time you see this Loki and Reader. This is also my submission for @the-slumberparty Week 2 Challenge: Blast From The Past. Word Count: Over 2.5K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut; handcuffs, praise kink, hunter/prey dynamic, bondage, spreader bar- ya, you read that right. Fluff ending.

Loki’s smoldering eyes never left yours as his fingers continued to unbutton his shirt. You deftly shuffled the deck of cards, watching him strip bare in front of you. “A Las Vegas past, you say? I wonder how many other tricks you have up your sleeve, darling.”

You smirked, unable to come up with a witty retort. He had taken off his shirt and was working on the buttons of his trousers. Your eyes roamed his smooth skin. The contours of his muscles made you want to trace each and every line with your tongue.

He quickly unzipped his dress pants and let them pool down to the floor. He stepped out of them and hummed as he spotted you licking your lips at his half-erect cock, growing by the second. “Are you sure you won’t get distracted, darling? You know, we could forego all the formalities and just have our own game instead,” he tempted, coming closer to you. His naked body glistened in the light of the fireplace. And somehow that just made his voice sound deeper, richer, more perilous.

“But where’s the fun in that? Where’s the chase, Mischief?” you smoldered as you walked further away from him. You weren’t going to let him win. You were too proud, too stubborn, to let him get the upper hand.

“Oh, you’d like me to chase you. Is that right?” he provoked, standing proudly as his eyes stalked you moving further into his room, but still maintaining your distance.

Unbeknownst to you, you were already playing a game with the god of mischief. A game that he started earlier that night when he lost his hand to you. You had played right into his trap.

He knew you would win. He didn’t cheat. Although, he could have. It was all too easy after the first round where Barnes and Rogers taught him how to play.

When the rest of the group came, that’s when Loki learned that it was about deception. When Natasha suggested a provocative game of strip poker, he finalized the plans in his head of how he could get you alone.

Loki noticed how everyone was losing an article of clothing besides himself- and of course, you.

You were shrewd. Your canny ability to read everyone’s body language and the ability to mask your own made you so irresistible. So mysterious and intriguing. He wondered how he could break your poker face and finally get past that shield you seem to have put up.

“I have a wager for you,” Loki said in his deep husky voice.

“You’re already naked, Loki. I don’t think there’s anything else I want,” you said cooly, goading him along.

“Are you certain? There’s nothing else I can offer you?” he spoke so sharply you could hear the crinkle of his smile. “At least let me win back some article of clothing,” Loki added.

You expressly ran your stare down his sculpted body. From his strong shoulders down to his veinous arms that were holding onto his sharp hips. You purposely kept your stare on his evident arousal before looking directly into his eyes and grinning.

Confident that you wouldn’t lose, you agreed. “All right. For every hand you win, you can put on an article of clothing,” you stated. Loki smiled. “But what do I get if I win?” you asked.

“For every hand you win, you get a one-second head start before I catch you.” Loki teased. “And trust me, darling, I will catch you,” he said taking one step forward causing you to back away further and deeper into his room. You stood behind his desk, pushing his chair aside as you secured the table between you.

“This won’t stop me, dearest. You can put as many obstacles in my way as you want, but I would still seize my prize.”

Is that a promise? You wanted to ask. “Ok. Let’s make it simple. The game: Blackjack. Are you familiar?” you diverted and resisted the urge to smile. Loki nodded his head. “Wonderful. I’ll deal.”

“Excellent,” he agreed, and you dealt the cards out between you.

In the first two games, you won with 18 and 20, respectively. Loki wanted to see how you would play this out. You had kept your poker face on the entire time, not once giving him an inclination to your thought’s inner workings.

He adapted and analyzed you quickly. After winning a total of five seconds, you felt a sense of confidence and misplaced pride. Loki, standing proudly naked, decided to be riskier with his hits.

You drew the cards and Loki won with 19 to your 17. “All right, Laufeyson. One article of clothing,” you stated, expecting him to put his underwear back on. All Loki did was fold his arms and grin widely.

You felt a heavy weight pull on your left wrist that wasn’t there before. You felt the soft fur lining before you saw that Loki had conjured thin leather cuffs for you.

“Loki? What the hell is this?” holding your hand up for him to see.

“I’m just staking my gains, dear. You said I can add an article of clothing for every hand I win. You didn’t clarify what type of adornment I could add,” he smirked. “And on whom.”

You narrowed your eyes and seethed. “You sly little-”

“Would you expect anything else from me, my dear? Come on, darling. You have your five-second head start. Why don’t you try winning the cuffs off then?”

“All right. Bet.” You shuffled the deck and dealt each of you two cards. Loki won the hand when you busted at 23. Another cuff materialized on your right wrist.

“Are you cheating?” you accused him.

“No. Never with you, my dear. Winning you any other way would taint the joy of having you scream out my name.” He leaned down onto his desk and looked you in your eyes. “When I catch you, darling, I want you to remember that I won fair and square.” The devilish grin he gave you made you swallow. And now you weren’t sure whether you wanted to win or lose.

“Let fate decide,” he answered as if he could read your mind. “Play.”

You dealt out another set of cards. You lost the hand when he hit 20, and you busted at 22. You felt a weight attach itself to your left ankle. Looking down, you saw a cuff that matched the other two on your wrist.

You’re breathing got heavy. Your bravado shattered instantly. “Last game,” you tried to say nonchalantly.

“If you’d like,” Loki granted. “Although, I did want to see how tantalizing your neck would’ve looked adorned with a matching collar.”

You dealt the cards and received two kings. A small glimmer of hope swelled in your chest.

Loki had a Queen of Clubs. “How ironic,” he stated as he turned his other card around revealing an Ace of Spades. 21.

The look on your face fell as you realized that he had won his hand. A new weight was added to your right ankle. The now familiar fur lining rubbing against your skin.

“I suggest you start running, pet,” Loki said so sweetly. You looked up into his greedy eyes and tried to gather your thoughts together. “Five,” he started to count down.

“Four.” At this, you threw the cards onto the desk and ran towards his door, squealing when you passed him.

“Three.” The weight of the cuffs was evident, but not so much that it hindered your speed.

“Two.” Your hands reached for his doorknob, turning it over quickly and opening the door.

“One,” Loki growled in your ear. His hand was on his door, slamming it closed as he pinned you against it. You turned to face him, and he trapped you in between his arms, holding the door closed.

All at once he was everywhere around you, invading all your senses. You could see the craving in his eyes. You could smell the fine hint of his aftershave. You could feel the heat all around you as he caged you in between his arms and body. You could hear nothing but your heartbeat throbbing in time with his breathing.

He leaned down. His bright face was on level with yours. “I don’t think you really tried, pet. Did you want to get caught?”

“You cheat-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” He interrupted, putting his fingers on your lips. “I did not cheat! But what game are you playing at, my dear? Why did you come into my room? In the middle of the night? Certainly not just to play cards. Or maybe…as I stated before…you wanted to get caught.”

“Loki-”

He kissed you. He brought his mouth to yours and moaned as he finally savored the taste of your lips. He pushed you harder against the door and you could feel his hard length twitching against your body. “Tell me you want this…”

“I…unh…” he ground his pelvis into yours and you felt slick wetness coat your panties.

“Tell me, darling. Tell me that you’ve been fantasizing about this as I have,” he whimpered on your neck.

“I have, Loki,” you sighed as he thrust his hips against you again. He growled his desire as he picked you up and carried you over to his bed. He laid you down, his weight, a welcome heaviness that makes your breath hitch.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, kissing you again on your lips.

“It varies from moment to moment,” you said as he bit your lower lip.

“I’ll take it,” he chuckled at your answer. He gathered your wrist and suspended them above your head. The cuffs attached themselves to a chain that Loki seemed to have conjured. “Pull.” And you did as he instructed. The chain was taut, but the fur lining caressed your skin.

 He made his way down your sinful curves followed by the soft kisses of his lips. You hadn’t realized that he removed your clothing already. You lay there, panting heavily as he took in your erotic figure writhing on top of his sheets.

He knelt up at the edge of the bed. His heated touch followed the bows of your calves down to the cuffs adorning your ankles. He took one ankle in each hand and as he separated your legs, a bar had formed in between them, snapping your ankle cuffs in place.

The click of the metal bar echoed throughout his room whispering promises of lurid affairs yet to come.

“You beautiful, courageous creature!” Loki said adoringly. With the bar held in one of his hands, he pushed your knees back towards your head. “How I’m going to love ruining you.” His other hand stroked his hard shaft, placing the weeping tip at your slick entrance.

Slowly, he savored entering your tight walls. Your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy as you felt him strain your pussy.

You tried to clench, tried to close your knees together and indulge in the way he stretched you, but the bar prevented you from closing your legs altogether. As if Loki knew, he gave you a fleeting smile before he lunged himself in, grinding against you when he reached your walls.

He paused only for a moment before he picked up his pace. The erratic moans you cried were drowned out by Loki’s grunts. His hips pounded madly into yours. His hands held onto the bar, using it as leverage against your aching pussy by pushing it down to your chest.

The position left you feeling open and vulnerable. You were left to his whims as he took what he wanted mercilessly. “Unhh…th-that’s it. That’s my girl,” he huffed plunging back into your tightness. “You like being tied up, don’t you sweet thing? Letting me do what I want to your sweet…delectable…mhhmmm…”

His words sent a fire throughout your body. A spark that began in your aching cunt and made you seize up altogether. “L-Loki…I ca…I can’t…fuck…it feels so good.” You felt him push the bar further against your body. Your knees bent to your chest and you came.

You chanted his name as the never-ending wave of pleasure took hold of your body and wouldn’t let go. “Loki. My god…”

He pulled himself out quickly, and with his strength he turned the bar over, causing you to land on your knees. Your face was smothered on the pillow as your peach-shaped cheeks hung in the air. He spanked you, causing you to lose your breath once again.

“Call me your god again and I’ll bless you with the most spiritual enlightenment you’ll ever have.” Loki sank himself inside you. Your cries of ecstasy muffled against his pillows.

The position was different. The angle of his thrust went deeper. You could feel almost every vein. Every torturous pull of his shaft along your tight walls. Your legs were spread, your hands bound to the headboard. You felt like nothing more than a toy to the god who was giving you a glimpse of heaven.

Loki’s breathing got heavier. His thrust got more erratic and you could feel his thighs shake behind yours. You felt his chest against your back as he fell on top of you. He tried holding himself up, losing the fight against your hot slit.

You could hear his pleasure. His rhythmic grunts against your ear. “You’re so good for me.” The torrid whispers and compliments about your body. “Th-that’s it. Take it. Take it like a good girl.” You were close again. “Unnh…faen…Gods you’re amazing!”

At his praise, you shattered into another orgasm. He held your shoulders down, trying to gain more leverage as Loki came inside you. He felt the clutch of your muscles. The velvet of your sex trying to keep him inside you and he couldn’t help but have the widest grin of satisfaction on his face.

He pulled out slowly and watch as his spent dribbled down your thighs. “Loki…” you moved to get up.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“But-”

“I said. Don’t. Move.” You felt him get off the bed. Moments later a warm towel graced your thighs. He moved to cup your heated folds and when he finished, he quickly turned the bar and put you right to your back again.

With the snap of his fingers, both the bar and the cuffs dematerialized. He lifted one ankle and massaged it. He kissed where the cuffs used to be and gently set it down before reaching for your other ankle. He followed with your wrist. Ensuring that they weren’t blistered or cut.

His quiet reverence of your body contested with what he just did to it. “So, you’ve been fantasizing about me?” You asked, breaking the silence between you.

“I have,” he simpered.

“How long?”

“As long as you have.”

“That’s-”

“Shh.” Loki crawled up to you and ran his nose against your cheek while peppering kisses on your skin. You closed your eyes and savored the intimacy he was showing. “Sleep, love. Ask me your questions tomorrow.” He wrapped his blanket around you and nestled into the crook of his shoulder.

“All right,” you whispered, slowly drifting off into slumber. “But don’t think I won’t forget!” you threatened cherubically.

“I look forward to it,” Loki smiled as he watched you fall asleep in his arms.

⬅️Chapter 1: Poker Face | Chapter 3: 20 Questions➡️

🏷️@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writes @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias @lokixryss @athalialaufeyson @thedistractedagglomeration @theotherspiderlady @cheekyscamp

[duckybarnes1917]

18+ Only

Summary: Bucky hates you. Until he doesn't.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, mommy kink, sub Bucky, dom reader, oral sex (m and f), teasing, begging not cum, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, leather cuffs, color system

AN: My Valentine's Day fic this year also serves as my entry for @the-slumberparty week one I Spy challenge! I used the diamond necklace and leather cuffs. Also, this fic fills the enemies to lovers space (G3) on my @allcapsbingo bingo card!

Bucky had always hated you. Ever since you walked into the compound, showing off and flaunting all your assets. You were a good fighter; you didn't need to shove it in everyone's faces all the time. Every time he walked past the gym and saw you sitting on Sam's chest, pinning him down again, an ugly emotion coursed through Bucky. Your triumphant smile made him want to rip you off of Sam and show you a taste of your own medicine. But he always kept walking, doing his best to ignore you. 

He didn't think it was possible to hate you even more. But once again, you proved him wrong in that department. You were late. Very late. Bucky paced around the loft he had been living in undercover. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, perfectly in place. The mission called for him to pose as an art collector–with deep pockets and dark habits. He had been alone here for a month, slowly gaining the trust of the key players, and tonight was the night he was finally going to get the critical piece of information he needed. But there had been a hiccup. His mark, Zakaria Tate, had invited him to dinner. Not just any dinner, a Valentine's dinner. Date required. Bucky had begged Sam to send Yelena; her no-nonsense attitude would have made this super easy, but he declined. Bucky would have preferred that Sam himself joined him tonight over you. But Sam simply laughed and told him to suck it up. You were the only choice. 

Bucky rechecked his watch just as you burst through his front door, again proving him wrong. Because he hated you even more in the crimson dress that hung to you like it was your skin. 

"Don’t say it, Barnes. I know.” You pushed past him, heading toward the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of wine. 

“You’re late,” Bucky said through grit teeth. He stalked over to you and ripped the glass from your hand. 

You rolled your eyes, taking a long pull from the wine bottle instead. “It’s not my fault. This ridiculous lingerie took way too much work to get into.” 

Bucky tensed, his eyes immediately moving from your face to scan your body. “Wh–why would you–”

You shrugged, picking up the gift box you had walked in with. “It helps sell the part. If we were really dating. And you were really taking me out for Valentine’s. And you were really giving me that gift over there.” You paused to point at the jewelry box Bucky had waiting by the front door. “Then I would really fuck you stupid at the end of the night.” 

You smiled at him as you walked past, stroking his arm lightly with your hand. 

Bucky swallowed thickly, turning to watch the sway of your ass. He hated how easily you made him feel like this. Like he would drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him just for a taste. 

** 

To Bucky’s surprise, the dinner was going well. Zakaria loved you. That wasn’t surprising; everyone loved you except for him. But the character he was playing did–he needed to act the part. He swallowed his stubbornness and inched closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You smiled at him before placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“Oh, there he is, my loving boyfriend. Thought you forgot you’re supposed to want to touch me.” 

“Sorry, I’m not that good of an actor,” Bucky muttered. 

You ignored him and turned back to the conversation at the table. Despite his snarky comeback, Bucky couldn’t help the shiver that went through him in response to your touch. Your voice low in his ear was something he could get used to. 

Fuck. 

No. 

But his body was already reacting, squeezing your hip to pull you closer. You nuzzled into his side and placed your hand on his big thigh. 

Bucky took a deep inhale; he could do this. He knew what you were doing and would not let you ruffle him. 

But as soon as he relaxed, your thumb began slowly stroking his thigh. It was innocent–if he didn’t know you better. He gave you a sharp warning, but you wouldn’t look at him. Such a simple movement should not have had him turning to breathing exercises to keep himself from begging you to touch him more. 

As if you could read his thoughts, your hand glided down to his knee and back, and again and again. It was becoming more challenging for Bucky to focus on what anyone at the table was saying and even harder to keep his eyes from stealing glances down your dress. He couldn’t help it, he had the perfect view, and he wanted to know what color your lingerie was–in the dark lighting, it looked red, and his cock swelled. 

Shit. 

“Baby–” you giggled when Bucky finally looked up from your tits. “Zakaria wants to see what you got me.” 

“Oh–of course.” Bucky shook the lust off and handed you the jewelry box. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” 

God, his voice sounded like he had swallowed knives. 

Get it together. 

Genuine surprise flashed across your face as you picked up the glittering diamond necklace. Everyone at the table gasped in awe. That was the reaction Bucky had hoped for. 

“Go on, put it on her.” Zakaria urged. 

Bucky blushed as you turned your back to him and swept your hair out of the way. His hand was shaking as he drew the necklace around your neck; his fingers left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Once he got it clasped, you turned to him and stuck your chest out. “How does it look?” 

Bucky’s mouth watered as he looked at the diamonds glittering against your skin. The necklace dipped into your cleavage, and Bucky could see your nipples pebbled through the thin fabric of your dress. He hated how hard you made his cock. Hated that you would never do anything about it. Hated that he was always destined to imagine you fucking him while he stroked his cock alone. 

Zakaria laughed, “I think our friend may be ready to leave our company.” 

Fuck, was he being that transparent? 

“Not before dessert,” you said, smiling mischievously. 

Bucky wasn’t prepared for your lips to collide with his. You did it so fast; he wasn’t sure what had happened. By the time his brain caught up and he registered the soft warmth of your lips, you were already pulling back to whisper in his ear. 

“If I liked you, Barnes–” you sighed longingly, the heat of your breath tickling his ear. 

Bucky stared at you wide-eyed and begged silently for you to finish your thought. He needed it–for later. 

The entire time you ate your dessert, Bucky could only think about what you had left unsaid. What would you do if you liked him? What did you want to do to him? 

You threw back the last of your drink and suddenly flopped into Bucky’s lap–pretending to be the love-drunk girlfriend you were playing. You giggled, and Bucky helped you sit up; you used his leverage to scoot yourself into his lap. Bucky froze as your eyes snapped to his when your ass felt his sizeable bulge. 

“Oh, you fucking wish,” you whispered against his lips, that glint that Bucky hated so much in your eyes. 

Your smile looked predatory, and as hard as Bucky tried to find the hate inside himself that would allow him to push you off or at least come back with a witty response, all he could do was swallow down a whimper. 

Your smile grew, and you pushed your chest against him while your fingers ran through his hair. “Is this–” you circled your hips to emphasize what you were referencing, “why you hate me so much? You just wanna fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky begged quietly; his grip on your waist tightened, but you kept squirming. 

“Be a good boy, and I’ll go easy on you the rest of the night.” 

Bucky couldn’t help himself, his hips pushed up against you, and he cursed under his breath. Your eyes darkened, and Bucky knew he had indeed given himself away now. Usually, a comment like that would have gotten you a death glare and probably an ugly name thrown your way. But it had all been a mask, all of it. Because he wanted this. Too much. 

Suddenly you stood up. “We’re leaving. Thank you so much, Zakaria. It was lovely.” 

You hauled Bucky to his feet, and the protest Zakaria had started to give died on her tongue when she saw the obvious reason for his quick exit. 

“Have fun, you two; don’t be strangers.” 

Bucky didn’t even care that he had got nothing out of this dinner other than a raging hard-on. He couldn’t think past how your hips moved as you marched out of the restaurant. You didn’t stop once you were outside, and Bucky worried that he had completely fucked this up and made a jackass of himself. 

“Wait! Where are you going?!” Bucky jogged to catch up to you. 

“Back to the loft. Can’t talk here.” 

Bucky kept his mouth shut and followed you. Maybe you had noticed something he didn’t–since you were actually working the mission instead of acting like a horny teenager. As he followed you, he replayed the night, searching for something he missed, but all he could remember was you. He didn’t even realize you were back in the loft until you slammed the door shut and pushed him up against it. 

“What the fuck, Barnes?” 

“Wh–what?” Bucky tried not to rut his hips against you but failed when your grip on his wrists tightened. 

“This whole time? I thought you hated me–”

“I do,” Bucky groaned. “Hate that I can’t have you.” 

Your brows furrowed. “So you just decided to be a dick?” 

“Had to,” Bucky said breathlessly. “If I didn’t pretend that you make me so unbearably horny, I would have begged you to fuck me every goddamn mission.” 

Bucky’s face fell into a pout when you let him go and took a few steps back. You were gonna leave. Probably laugh in his face first and then leave him like this, hard and desperate. 

“So do it. Beg.” You stuck out your hip and crossed your arms to emphasize your breasts. 

Bucky stood stunned for a moment, still not sure if you were being serious. 

You sighed, irritated, and started to move toward the exit. Bucky immediately dropped to his knees. He wasn’t going to let you go that easily. 

“Please.” 

Bucky licked his lips nervously, not really sure what else to say. Your brow rose, unimpressed and expecting more. 

“I’m sorry, please; I want you so bad.” 

“What do you want from me, baby boy?” 

Bucky finally looked up at you, and the view made him groan. This is how he wanted to be all the time, on his knees, looking up at you. He needed to answer you before you got mad, but he didn't know what to ask for first; he wanted everything. 

“Want you to fuck me,” Bucky hated how needy he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. 

You smiled and stepped forward, tipping his head back. “I’ll think about it.” 

Panic was evident on Bucky’s face, he knew it, but all you did was laugh before lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder. 

“See if you can earn it.” 

Oh god. 

With a trembling hand, Bucky slid your short dress up your thighs slowly, mentally preparing himself for the sight of your coveted cunt. Nothing could have prepared him, and as soon as he saw your crotchless red panties, he whimpered and gripped your thigh harder. 

“Can I use my mouth?” He asked, eyes wide with hope. 

“Of course, you can, baby.” 

“Thank you, mommy,” Bucky stuck his head under your dress before he could see the shock and pleasure on your face. 

The sting in his scalp spurred him on as your grip tightened and you pressed him closer to your heat. His tongue moved urgently, and every time you made a pleasured noise, he moaned against your clit. 

“I’m close, baby, don’t stop,” your breathy sigh spurred Bucky to slide his hands up your thighs and grip your hips. He pulled you even closer, sliding his warm tongue into you over and over. 

“Fuck yes, baby boy, fuck me, fuck me.” Your hips moved frantically, using his nose to stimulate your clit. 

Bucky could have cried; this was fucking bliss. He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down, desperate to stroke himself in time with his tongue. 

“I didn’t say you could touch your cock,” you said breathlessly, and Bucky whimpered. He was desperate for some kind of relief, but he was afraid to disobey you. Instead, he moved his hand out of his pants and gripped your ass hard, fucking you even deeper with his tongue. He didn’t stop until you came so hard he had to hold you up so you wouldn’t fall. 

Bucky tried to remain patient while you lowered your leg and patted his head condescendingly. He was still afraid you would leave at any moment. 

“That was good, baby.” 

Bucky blushed, looking up at you hopefully. His hands were clenched at his sides to keep from touching himself. 

“Go to the bedroom and take all your clothes off.”

Bucky scrambled to his feet, ignoring your chuckle as he raced to the bedroom, peeling his clothes off. 

Thankfully, you didn’t make him wait long; you walked into the room and only paused momentarily to check him out. 

“Help me out of this dress, baby.” 

Bucky slid the zipper of your dress down quickly, almost breaking it. The silk puddled at your feet, and Bucky growled, low and deep, at the sight of you before him. You moved away too soon for his liking, directing him to lie on the bed. 

“You never opened my gift.” 

Bucky held his breath as you crawled over him. You sat on his chest and opened the gift for him. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he looked at the black leather cuffs inside. 

“Originally, I bought them as a joke. But…”

“Yes. Please.” Bucky held his wrists out to you excitedly. 

“You know the colors?” 

When Bucky nodded, you kissed his wrists before placing the cuffs on him. 

“This is gonna be fun,” you smiled wickedly at him before sitting back so you could unhook your bra. You removed it slowly, enjoying Bucky’s gaze and how he worried his lip every time you almost removed it completely. 

“Mommy, please!” He finally whined, and you threw the bra to the floor. 

Bucky reached his cuffed hands out, but you moved out of his reach. “Should have thought about that before you said yes, baby boy.” 

You grabbed his joined wrists and lifted them over his head, putting your breasts in reach of his hungry mouth. 

It was hard, but Bucky resisted, thrusting his hips in the air as he groaned. “Please, can I?” 

God, his lips practically brushed against your nipple as he spoke. 

“Can you what?” You teased. 

Bucky squirmed, frustrated, and unable to think with all his blood now in his swollen, ignored cock. “Tits. Want–” Bucky groaned as you lowered yourself even more. “Wanna suck your tits,” he rushed out in one breath. 

“Go ahead, baby.” 

Bucky’s tongue flicked over your nipple quickly before he sucked it into his mouth. His hips pistoned into the air as he sucked. He moved to the next one, giving it the same treatment. 

“Is there something else you need from me, baby?” 

Bucky whined, your breast still in his mouth and his eyes watery. 

You sat up and ran your finger over his pouting lips. “What else do you need, baby? Use your words.”

“Need–” Bucky’s breath caught as he looked at you, naked except for the diamond necklace around your neck and nuzzled between your breasts. “Need you to touch me.” 

“Come on, you can do better than that.” 

Bucky frowned, a confused look on his face. 

“I know you’ve got filthy, dirty thoughts in that big cyborg brain of yours. Come on.” 

“Oh god, I–” Bucky closed his eyes, trying to find some confidence. “I need you to touch my cock. Put it in your tight pussy and come all over me. Need you to make me come, mommy, wanna come inside you, fuck.” 

“That’s better, baby.” You kissed his chest, slowly dragging your lips down until you reached his throbbing cock. 

You didn’t show it, but you were just as wound up as he was. It would be so satisfying to slide him inside you now. Fuck him fast and frantic until you both came way too quickly. Maybe next time. For now, you needed to make him work for it. And maybe pay him back for being such a dick to you. You let your saliva dribble over the crown of his cock and stroked him lightly to spread it. He was already so wound up that simple action had him thrusting off the bed. 

You couldn’t resist pushing him further, sucking on his tip while your hand moved faster, and you rolled his balls gently. 

“Oh fuck! Yes! God, don’t stop!” 

You didn’t, only removing your mouth long enough to ask him if he wanted to come. A resounding yes made you chuckle. Poor boy. 

“Do you wanna come, or do you wanna stick your fat cock in my little pussy?” 

You didn’t give him time to think as your mouth wrapped around his tip again, and his mind went blank. 

“Bucky, I asked you a question.”

“Both?” He tried but knew it was pointless. 

“Choose, or I’ll choose for you.” 

Bucky hesitated, your mouth felt so fucking good, and he had imagined coming down your throat so many times. He was already so close it would only take a few more strokes, and he’d be there. 

He groaned, sagging against the bed. “Want your pussy.” 

But you didn’t stop; you took him deeper in your mouth and sucked hard. 

“Want your pussy!” Bucky gasped as suddenly he was in your throat, and you were swallowing around him. 

Was this a test? He didn’t think he was going to pass. His balls were heavy with need, and your tongue was coaxing him to the brink faster and faster. 

“Please, mommy! I’m gonna come! Please stop,” Bucky gasped, hands clenched tightly as he fought the oncoming orgasm. “Oh,” he drew the word out long and needy. “Please, I’ll come; stop, please.” He was so close now he could almost taste the pleasure. 

That was when you stopped, pulling your mouth off of him slowly and giving his crown one more good lick. 

“You did so good, baby boy.” You straddled him, running your wet pussy over his dick before pushing his tip inside. “Let’s see how long you last inside me.” 

Bucky’s mind went blank as you slid down his length. You looked so perfect, perched on his cock with nothing but diamonds on your sexy body. He couldn’t breathe. 

Your ass met his thick thighs, and Bucky groaned. “So–good,” he sounded drunk. 

“Don’t come.” 

That was the only warning he got before your hands found his thighs, and you began fucking yourself on his throbbing cock. 

“You’re so big, baby. I’m gonna come so hard.” You threw your head back, working your hips even faster. 

Bucky tasted blood in his mouth; he was biting his tongue, trying his best to keep from filling you up. 

Your hand drifted down your body, and Bucky had to close his eyes when you started rubbing your clit. 

“Mommy, I–I’m gonna come, please.” 

“You’re not allowed.” 

“But–” Bucky groaned as you moved your hands to his chest and fucked him faster. 

“This is what you asked for, baby boy. You wanted to be balls deep inside me. Wanted me to fuck you.” 

Bucky couldn’t argue. So he squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to hold back. Even as you came, moaning his name and squeezing his cock like a vice, he didn’t come. 

A tear ran down his cheek as you came down from your high. 

“Look at me, pretty boy.” You leaned forward and wiped the tear from his cheek. “You were so good for me.” 

Bucky sniffled as your lips brushed against his. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.” 

“Oh, Bucky,” you cupped his cheek and looked him in the eye. “I always liked you too. Only you. I’m sorry I was a pain in the ass.” 

You kissed him then, slow and deep. Bucky felt bad, but he broke out of the cuffs and gently moved you to lay on your back. He held your face as he kissed you back, stroking your tongue with his and holding you close. His cock throbbed angrily inside you, but you hadn’t given him permission to move. 

Your hand moved from his hair to his ass, grabbing it tightly. “Fuck me, Bucky.” 

Bucky’s hips punched forward. “I–I can’t. I’ll come.” 

He looked so disappointed. 

“I believe in you. Fuck me.” You spread your legs wide for him, and he dropped his forehead to rest on yours. 

“I hate you.” But you both knew now that he didn’t mean it. 

He kept you close while he moved his hips slowly, building up speed and keeping his thrusts as deep as he could. 

“Don’t stop,” you groaned when he started to slow down. 

“Gonna come,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Haven’t earned it,” you huffed back. “Fuck me. Hard.” 

Gathering the little self-control Bucky had left, he lifted himself onto his knees and grabbed your hips, pistoning into you as hard as he could manage. 

He shouldn’t have, but his hand reached out to squeeze one of your bouncing breasts. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, gotta stop.” 

You ignored him, arching your back and pushing your chest out. Bucky growled, quickly descending on your breasts with his mouth. Sucking one while he squeezed the other. His hips moved frantically, losing his rhythm. 

“Please, mommy, can I stop?” His voice was muffled against your chest. 

Your response was to wrap your legs around his waist tightly. He groaned, trying to think about something other than how wet and warm you were around him. You didn’t make it easy. 

“Fuck my little pussy, yeah, fuck, fuck, baby, mommy’s coming.” 

Your walls spasmed around him, and Bucky’s hot tears fell onto your chest as he held on for dear life, silently begging to stop before he spilled his seed inside you.

“Come, baby,” you said through deep breaths as your high faded. 

Bucky barely managed to ask where before he was pounding into you. When you said, “inside, come in my pussy.” Bucky’s hands moved to your ass, gripping it tight as he fucked into your warm, tight cunt frantically as if he was afraid you’d change your mind. 

“Thank you, thank you, mommy, pussy feels so good,” he whined, grinding deeper as his orgasm overtook him. He froze for a moment, gasping and groaning against your neck as he came harder than he ever had before. But soon, he was slowly fucking his come deeper into you, whispering praises against the column of your throat. 

Your hand ran through his hair, and he nuzzled deeper. 

“If I had known the serum kept you hard after orgasm, I would have let you come sooner.” 

“Fuck you,” Bucky groaned, punching his hips forward to make you gasp. 

“You liked it,” you giggled. 

“Fucking loved it, never wanna leave your pussy.” 

“Keep fucking me like that and calling me your mommy, and I’ll let you fuck me as much as you want.”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me,” Bucky whispered incredulously before moving you up the bed to start round two.

[georgiapeach30513]

When I Hear Your Name

Summary:  You should have never left.  Things were perfect.

Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit, dark, explicit language, explicit sexual content, depictions of PTSD, kidnapping, somnophilia, non con/dub con, degradation, bondage, fingering, squirting, creampie, pussy plug, breeding kink, holding people captive, cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.7K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

A/N:  My entry for @the-slumberparty Week 1 Challenge.  My random generator theme was ‘Descent into Madness’ and the setting was ‘Military’.  

Steve Rogers was a lot of things; he was strong, charismatic, a natural leader, righteous, handsome, sweet, and stubborn.  He was different before he went off to war.  He was always about making you giggle.  Holding you tight when you got scared.  His sweet lips nipping at every inch of your skin.  His body had yours memorized.

Things were harder when he came back.  There was this odd quality about him.  He wasn’t mean, he was just…distant.  It was like he was living from afar.  Never completely present with you.  He didn’t talk to you.  Barely looked at you.  He was just there taking up space.

Once upon a time he showered you with gifts.  Even if you didn’t have much, Steve managed to get that diamond bracelet that you had eyed for years.  Surprised you with his own homemade bouquets of flowers.  It became a weekly thing to see these adorable, if not crudely put together, flowers.  He tried, and that’s all you cared about.  Even would hand deliver them.

His romance was gone, as was his will to enjoy life.  There was no passion behind his actions.  He was but a meat suit with little to no emotions.  No excitement, no love, no passion.  It was infuriating.  It was worse seeing Steve like that.  You couldn’t explain it.  Couldn’t make sense out of it.  And you felt yourself losing your joy everyday.  

You tried getting him the help he needed.  Tried to be there for him, but it wasn’t enough.  

“Moonbeam,” Bucky whispered in your ear as the two of you watched a blank Steve staring up at the ceiling, “you don’t deserve this.”

“But…I love him,” you look up at Bucky, and only then does Steve stir.  His eyes glaring straight at his best friend.  “He doesn’t deserve this either.  Bucky, what am I supposed to do?  He barely eats or sleeps.  Won’t go to therapy.  Won’t talk to me.  I want our life back.”

“Have you ever thought it wasn’t coming back?” Steve sits up in the bed, and you flinch, taking a step towards him.

Bringing your hand to his cheek, he sighs, leaning more into it.  This was proof he was still in there.  He always leaned into your touch.  You pet around his face, giving him a tearful smile when he looks up at you.  Opening his mouth, but no words came out.  It was heartbreaking to see this great man become a ghost of his former self.  No smiles were ever present on his beautiful face.  He was lost.

“Moonbeam,” Bucky says again when you turn to leave.  Steve’s feet bounced his legs around, but you couldn’t do it anymore.  It was eating away at your soul.  Your hope was nearly dwindled down to nothing.  

“Moonbeam?” Bucky races out to grab your arm, “Where are you going?”

“Back home, Buck.  I can’t,” you cry up at him, giving him a tight hug.  Blind to your boyfriend’s darkened eyes peering at the two of you.  “I tried.  He’s never coming back is he?”

“I don’t have an answer for that.”

“I hope he does.  I hope he finds himself.  But I can’t do this.  I can’t see him like this anymore,” giving him a kiss to his cheek, you leave everything behind.  You didn’t need a reminder of how happy your life was.  How many dreams you and Steve had made come true, and how many you were still waiting on.  You wiped your hands clean, and it was the hardest thing you had ever done.

“What did you do?” Steve screams as he races towards Bucky.  “She left me, and it’s all your fault!” He knocks Bucky onto the floor, crawling over him to slam his head into the floor over and over again.  “You did this!”

“You did this, Steve!  She wants you, and you won’t fix it!”

“I can’t.”

——

“You got another package,” the girl at the front desk snips, smacking her gum, feigning annoyance.  “You know the boss is mad about all these personal deliveries.”

“They’re not personal when I don’t know who’s sending them,” opening the box, you gasp at the forever roses that were supposed to keep for over a year, and one in the center was a pure gold rose.  

‘I’ll love you until the last rose dies,’ ugh, so cliche.  If this was for you, he didn’t know you at all.

“You have no idea who’s sending you these,” she smacks her gum right beside you, and you have to silently count to ten.

“Nope.  Not even dating.  Probably someone gave them the wrong place of work.  Throw it away,” you didn’t care about gifts anymore anyways.  You didn’t care about love or happily ever after.  You cared about peace, and yourself.  You vowed to never fall in love again.  And you wouldn’t

“Some man just spent hundreds of dollars and you think he doesn’t know who you are?”

“Nope.  Clearly a mistake.”

“Your name is on the address,” giving you an incredulous look.  She believed you were bullshitting her and everyone in this office.  “No man is going to go out of his way to do this, along with flowers every Friday, if he wasn’t sure it was you.”

“What?” You stop in your tracks, turning back to look at her.  “What did you say?”

“You get flowers sent to you every Friday,” she blows a giant bubble with her gum, and you march back to the box, grabbing it up.  “So you know who sent them?”

“Nope,” you lie.  It wouldn’t be Steve.  This was a cruel joke.  You hadn’t heard from Steve in a few years.  These weren’t hand delivered like Steve did it.  They had it all wrong.  

You go out the back door, and slam the box into the garbage.  Your chest heaves with frustration.  “God, I can’t get away from him.”

“Because you weren’t meant to,” before you can scream, someone’s thick hand has been placed around your mouth as he drags you into a van.  You try kicking and screaming.  Try for anyone to get your attention, but it was useless.  

“Any second now,” your assailant grunts as your vision goes blurry.  “There ya go,” he hums, watching your eyes flutter close.  “Sweet dreams, Moonbeam.”

——

Your eyes pop open quickly, as you blink your vision back into view.  Tugging at your arms above your head, and your feet, but you were not going anywhere.  Hands tied above your head, while your legs were spread eagle.  Taking a deep breath to keep from crying, you look around.  

“Welcome home, darling,” Steve says sweetly, walking into the bedroom with a glass of water.  “I worried that you weren’t going to wake up.  It had been too long.  Your pulse was still steady.  You must have needed that extra bit of sleep.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Your voice was hoarse, like you had been screaming.  “Why am I naked?”

“Why are you asking questions?  You’re home, you should be happy.  Look, I’m talking to you again.  I tried sending you flowers, you didn’t thank me.  I had plans to hold you while we walked on the beach and talk for hours, but you didn’t call.  Had this big night planned for a romantic dinner, and then to take you dancing, but…yeah, you didn’t reach out to me.  So, I had to do what I had to do.  We’ve traded diamond bracelets for leather cuffs,” he gives the binds on your wrist a little tap.

“And they look so pretty on you.  Water?” You shake your head no, but he lowers a straw to you anyways.  “I suggest you drink some water.  You’re tired,” with his free hand he slaps at your core, chuckling when you yip.  

“What have you done?”

“You took too long to wake up.  I wanted what you promised was mine,” you cock up your eyebrow, needing him to go on, “You said that your pussy belonged to me.  So I took it.”

“You fucked me while I slept?” You growl up at him.  Disgusted that this was the man you had once loved.

“Yeah,” he answers easily.  “It’s my pussy.  It was just glistening with your juices.  If you weren’t turned on why were you so fucking wet?  Face it, Moonbeam, that cunt was made for me.  So I gave her what she wanted.  You needed a good hard fucking.  You were pitiful.  You still say my name in your sleep, too.  You know that?”

“Who was driving the van?”

“Hmm?” Steve smiles, looking down the expanse of your body.  Cupping your mound, moaning at the feeling of you, “Still wet.  You’re a slut for me, you know?” His hand slides up and down your split, and you try not to react, but damn if it didn’t feel good.  He knew your body.  Steve studied your body like he was being graded, this didn’t change.

“Who was driving the van?  There was someone else.  Was it Bucky?” You croak, letting a desperate mewl rise up out of your chest.  

“Why do you care so much about fucking Bucky?”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking Bucky.  I asked who was driving the fucking van,” Bucky was a sore subject for him.  His hand moves a bit faster.  A bit too hard on your sensitive nub.  “Steve,” you whine, anything had to be better than this.  “Steve, I wanna feel you.”

“No, you don’t.  You’re asking about Bucky.”

“No.  I…uh…I just wanted to know who was with you.  But…all I want right now is you.  I forgot what you felt like, and,” you bite at your lip as the pleasure starts to build up.  Getting a devilish smile from Steve.  He slows down his motions more, and you whimper out his name.  “Steve, I can’t remember.”

“I’ll make sure you remember.  I’ll make sure you feel me for a month.  You’ll take a step and be so sore that you’ll know my cock was buried so deep in your greedy little cunt.”

“Yes!  Yes, that’s…that’s exactly what I want.  Steve,” you breathlessly answer when he takes off his shirt.  Silver scars crisscross over his arm, and you can’t stop staring at the odd pattern of them.  

“Steve,” moaning out his name when he jerks his pants down.  His cock springing free, looking just as godlike as him.  Dripping of precum, and he crawls in between your legs.  Rubbing his tip through your arousal before slapping his cock over your clit.  “Steve!”

He continues playing with you, until strings of sticky arousal connect the two of you, and you jerk at your cuffs, needing to feel him.  “Yeah, you get forced to take whatever I give you,” he laughs as you try to bring your thighs together.  “Pathetic.  Trying to deny yourself an orgasm,” he tsks at you, changing to slapping you with his hand.

The sharpness was sending euphoria that you had never felt through every inch of your body.  Flowing through you like your blood.  Continuing until you were screaming out his name, and he crams two fingers into your tight channel.  Curling his fingers as he stabs into you.  There was no time to rest as he chases another high for you.

Your cunt was making the most vulgar squelching sounds that made his eyes roll into the back of his head.  The noise echoing through the rest of the house, and Steve hoped he heard.  “Just.  Let.  Go,” he demands, letting his calloused fingers hit over a sensitive spot in your core.  

“It’s…it’s….there she fucking is!” Steve screams as you squirt onto his chest.  Your juices being catapulted to your stomach, and still he didn’t stop.  “One more time.  Then I’ll give you what you need.  Go…on,” he pulls his hand out while you soak his thigh.

At lightning speed he had his cock driving into you.  Hips thrusting his fat cock in your warmth.  You were already speaking in tongues.  Head tilted back as you worshiped at the altar of Steven Grant Rogers.  My god, he was hitting every single spot that you had.  This wasn't sweet love making.  This was an urgent need to have you say his name like a prayer screaming off your lips.  A deep desire to destroy you, break you, so that you would never leave him again.

More arousal spews out from around his length as you clench down.  Your walls missed him.  And they were hugging him tightly.  So tight you start to see stars.  “Don’t you give out on me.  I missed your pretty eyes!  Missed the way you looked when you were taking my cock.  Look at you…right where you were made to be, taking my cock.  My little sexdoll.  It’s what you were designed for, huh?”

You give him a head nod, trying to catch your breath.  It was too much.  “I told you to drink your water.  Maybe next time you’ll listen.  Molded to my cock.  Gonna keep you in here so I can play with you whenever I want, Moonbeam.  I do miss the way you scratched down my back though. Just like you’re doing with your hands.”

It was true, you had your hands in a fist so tight, your nails had brought blood to your palms.  “Fuck,” Steve growls, railing into you harder.  “One day, when you don’t try to leave me, I’ll let you ride on top of me.  Okay?  Let that pretty little ass ride on my dick.”

“Steve!”

“Yeah, I know.  I know, you missed me just as much as your pussy.  I mean, my pussy.  She was always mine, wasn’t she?”

“Yes!  Yes!  Yes!” You scream out again as he drives into you hard.  Making your body jump up the bed.  You felt him in your throat, and you wanted more.  “Steve!”

“I know!  Right…there!” One more final thrust has you both coming hard.  Your creams mix together as Steve tries to catch his breath.  “Beautiful.  Now,” he groans, pulling out of you.  His hand shoves up against your ruined cunt and he reaches over to the bedside drawer, grabbing a plug that he shoves into your mouth.

“This is extra important,” he drags it down your body before removing his hand, and pushing it into your sex.  “There, that will keep that in there while I take care of something.  When you have my child, you’ll never want to leave.  We’ll become a family again.”

He kisses you hard on the lips before leaving you in a state of partially awake, and halfway asleep.  Walking down to the basement where he sees the chair, and two angry glowing eyes.  “See?  I told you she wanted me.  Now, I’m going to take your muzzle off and feed you.  When she stays freely, I’ll let you go.  Hey!” He shouts when Bucky snaps his teeth at him.

“Is that anyway to treat me?  I know you two had something going on.  This is to make sure you never think about fucking Moonbeam again.”

“It’s an expression.  I didn’t mean I wanted to fuck her.”

“Liar!” Steve shouts, clenching his fists together.  “She even said fucking Bucky.”

“I’ve never touched her!”

“Eh!” Steve holds up a glass of water with a straw, “Comply, soldier.  Quit fighting it.”

“You’ve gone fucking mad, Steve.  Let her help you.”

“I am,” Steve’s mouth turns up into a creepy smile as he puts the straw to Bucky’s mouth, “She’s going to give me babies.  I have my cum waiting in her snatch right now.  She’ll never leave.  And neither will you.  Not until you comply,” there was no use.  Bucky knew that Steve would keep him here until he gave him what he wanted.  It was over.

“Steve!” You scream from upstairs.  “Steve, please, don’t keep me here!  My parents have…they have…Steve!  I have somebody who needs me,” Steve slams the glass on the ground, knocking Bucky’s chair over.

“What was it that you didn’t do again?”

“I didn’t know, Steve!  I didn’t know!” Setting him back up right, Steve stomps up the stairs.  “Steve, let her go!  Steve!” Was the last thing Steve listened to before slamming the door closed, leaving Bucky to wonder, and Steve to brood, while you prayed you could get out of this.  Maybe.  At least this time you had a reason to fight, and a bigger reason to leave.  He could never break you.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss​ @navybrat817​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[alicewonderao3]

Making baby Hotchner

Title: Making Baby Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x oc female character.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Jack Hotchner, Derek Morgan (briefly mentioned), oc female character, JJ ( briefly mentioned,) and Emily Prentiss, (briefly mentioned)

Summary: What happens when Jack not so innocently asks his step-mom and dad for a baby brother or sister?

Warnings: 18 plus, there is smut, p in v, office sex, breeding, oral sex (m receiving), minors do not interact, and anything else I missed.

Authors note: So I wrote this for a bingo challenge and am just now getting around to posting it. I am experimenting more with smut in my writing, so, that's new. I'm also feeling like crap, I spent last Friday in the ER and am still feeling like crap. My body hates me, so I decided to post this today. Also, I know the summary sucks, but the general gist is there. I combined the squares office sex and breeding for this one. I'm tagging @the-slumberparty, I know this is late, but here it is. I had no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. If I missed any tags or warnings, please let me know. Enjoy!

I hadn't thought much about my future until I married Aaron. Marrying Aaron meant that I got a stepson, and I loved taking care of Jack. He was adorable and we'd bonded right away. So while Aaron worked at the BAU and caught bad guys, I stayed home with Jack and took care of him. I took him to school, made his favorite meals and everything. 

I still remember the first time he called me Mama. Aaron was gone on a case and I was picking up Jack from school, waiting with the other moms out front. Those eyes of his, so much like Aaron's, lit up when he saw me, and my heart stopped when a large smile lit up his face as he called out, running towards me, "Mama!" 

He launched himself into my arms, and I hugged him tightly to my chest, barely managing to keep my tears inside as I took him home. Later that night, I passed on the news to Aaron, after I'd put Jack to bed. I was cuddled in our bed, and I said, "He called me mama today, Aaron." I said, my voice soft. I heard Aaron go silent a moment, and then he whispered. "Really? He did?" 

I nodded. "He did. About melted my heart and made me cry. I wasn't sure if it was a fluke or not, you know with all his friends there, but he kept it up when we got back." I settled against the pillows, wiping a tear away. I could hear the grin in Aaron's voice as he said, "Well, he's ready for that. I mean, you are technically his mom, and we had that talk with him last week, remember?" 

I nodded again. Just last week, before Aaron left on this new case, Jack had brought up what he could call me while we ate dinner. He'd asked if it was okay to call me something other than Alice, and Aaron had said it was up to him. I wasn't surprised that he was calling me Mama now after that. Jack knew that Haley was his mom, that I was just someone extra to love on him, and that I'd never take her place. 

Aaron was due home today, and I was waiting to pick up Jack when he came running out with one of his friends, calling me mama and launching himself at me. I scooped him up and hugged him tightly, kissing him as he introduced me to his new friend, Andy. Andy's mom was very nice, and Andy couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to be a big brother. 

Over the next few hours, I saw the wheels in Jack's head turning, and I knew he had something up his sleeve when he waited specifically for Aaron to come home before he said something. Aaron was mid-bite when Jack, without looking up from his mashed potatoes, said, "Daddy, when will you and Mama make me a big brother?" 

I don't know how I kept my chuckle in as Aaron practically almost choked on his chicken. I gently patted his back as he faced Jack, and asked, "A-a big brother?" I saw Jack nod. "Yeah. Andy's gonna be a big brother, why can't I?" Again, I had to fight the smirk that threatened to form over my lips as Aaron's eyes met mine and I gave him a look that clearly said he was on his own. 

Aaron was silent a moment and then I saw his eyes sparkle, and I knew this couldn't be good for me when he said, "Well, I can't make that choice by myself, Jack. Mama has to want to do that too." I saw his eyes sparkle as he poked a bite of chicken on his fork as if to say, 'How's that?' Jack then turned his attention to me, his voice soft and pleading, "Mama?"

I turned to face him, looking into those beautiful brown eyes, so much like his dads, as he asked, in his best pleading voice. "Will you make me a big brother, Mama?" I couldn't help it, and I met Aaron's gaze a moment, enjoying the way he almost choked on his water when I said, "Of course, Jack. A new baby might be nice." 

Jack was gleeful as he finished his dinner and set his plate in the sink, darting off to the living room to play as Aaron met my eyes and said, "Well played, honey." I nodded, taking a bite of chicken. "Yeah, and I'm sure we're gonna have lots of fun making baby Hotchner," I said, as I ran my fingers along his shirt, headed for the sink to clean up from dinner. 

So we started trying, and I started keeping track of my cycles, which meant that there were some days when I knew I was ovulating that I would pounce on Aaron when he got home in a bid to make a baby. 

There were a few hits and misses, but we kept trying. One day in particular, when I knew I was ovulating, I came by the office with lunch for him. Morgan pointed to his office, saying "He's in there. I'd be careful mama, he's in a bad mood." I shook my head, muttering under my breath. "Not for me, he's not, if he knows what's good for him." 

I heard Derek chuckle at my words and I walked in and closed his door as he said. "Whatever it is, just leave it on the desk and go, I'm bu-" I held the plate and raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?" Aaron's eyes snapped up to mine and he sighed when he saw me. "Sorry, hon, I'm busy." 

I nodded, setting the plate on a side table, reaching over to close his blinds, and locked his door. "Busy? I can see that," I said, walking over to him, noting how tense he was as he focused on a file. "I think you need a little stress relief, honey," I said, as I turned his chair, ignoring his protest when I spun him to face me, as I dropped to my knees in front of him, pulling my curls back into a ponytail. 

My fingers nimbly undid his belt buckle as he huffed above me, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. "Alice I don't have time-" But his voice suddenly stopped speaking as I started rubbing him through his briefs, tugging his half-hard cock out and clucking softly, before gently licking the underside of it, then wrapping my lips around his head, sucking gently. 

I heard him groan, his fingers wrapping around my ponytail as I wrapped my lips around his cock again, before sinking to my knees and sucking and moving my head in the pattern he liked, his protesting giving way to soft groans of pleasure. I pulled off and licked him, my other hand moving what I couldn't fit in my mouth, a cheeky grin on my face. "Oh, don't have time for what, baby?" 

I asked him, as his eyes darkened and he stared down at me. "Looks like you need some stress release, Daddy, and I'm all too happy to help you." I cooed, before wrapping my lips around his cock, my head moving up and down as I sucked him, hollowing my cheeks and moaning as his hands reached down all along my body. 

I kept going, teasing him, bringing him to the brink, and then pulling back, slowly watching the thread that was his self-control snap as he finally hauled me up to my feet, his lips finding mine. His voice was dark as he ordered me, "Bend over my desk. Now." I shivered at the command in his tone and did as he instructed, getting a slap on my butt for my earlier sass. 

I felt him push my skirt up over my hips and heard his groan again when he realized I wasn't wearing underwear. I knew he was close, and on the edge, and I wiggled my ass at him, my voice soft but bratty. "Are you gonna stare at my ass or are you gonna fuck me, Daddy?" I asked him, squealing when he smacked my ass again, and I bit my lips when he entered me in one smooth stroke, taking my breath away. 

He took me hard and fast against the desk, his voice dark and teasing as he fucked me senseless. "Oh, not so brave now, are we?" He said, his thrusts even and slow. "I don't know if I should let you cum, after you sassed me so much. What happened to that brat who walked in here and took command? You get one taste of my cock and just go dumb?" 

I couldn't do anything but groan, my fingers clutching his desk as he fucked me. Papers fell off his desk, the wood groaning under my weight as he slowly and steadily fucked me into it. His hand reached around covering my lips, his voice dark in my ear. "Quiet, sweetheart. Do you want the whole office to hear me in here, fucking you dumb?" He asked and I shook my head. "Good, that's a good girl." 

He picked his pace up and I bit my lips to stifle my sounds as he fucked me. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my walls clenching and fluttering around me as I neared my orgasm. "Come on, honey, let me in," Aaron said, as he reached around to rub my clit, sending me over the edge, and I clamped tightly around him as I came, his hand pressed tightly to my lips to keep my sounds inside, as he came inside me, pressing deep into me. 

I was breathing heavily as he sank over me, hauling me upright and placing me on his lap with shaky legs. He pressed a kiss to my temple, his voice soft." Are you okay, baby?" I nodded. "Oh, yeah," I said as I turned to meet his eyes. "How about you? Feel better?" He nodded. "Thanks." 

He let me up to fix my skirt and shirt and said as he tucked his softening cock back into his slacks. "What brought you to see me?" he asked, and I handed him a plate. "I made you lunch and came to tell you I'm ovulating, but then Derek said you were in a bad mood. So, I helped you feel better and maybe we've finally succeeded in making baby Hotchner." 

I chuckled and he shook his head. "Yeah, and in my office no less." I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, it's one thing off my list." Aaron dug into his plate, raising an eyebrow at me. "Wait, you're telling me you wanted me to fuck you in here?" I nodded. "Why not? Bent over your desk, having to stay quiet as you fuck me senseless? Sounds like the best thing to me, and hey, now that we've done it, maybe we can do it again." I said teasingly, leaning over to kiss him. 

He chuckled and I said, "Alright, I'm gonna go home. I have a few things to do before I go get Jack. I'll see you later. I love you." I said, and he nodded, kissing me again, "Love you too, Alice." He smacked my ass as I left, a warm, wide smile on my face as I left his office. I passed Derek where he was speaking with Emily and JJ and said, "I think you'll find Aaron's in a much better mood now." 

I heard the three chuckle as I walked out. I knew it'd probably take a few more times until we finally made baby Hotchner, but I knew I'd have fun doing it. 

[onceuponastory]

fear of falling - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: Y/N loves Bucky, the gorgeous pilot at the airline they both work for, but she knows he doesn’t feel the same about her. ...Or does he? Pairing: Pilot!Bucky Barnes x FlightAttendant!Female!Reader Warnings: Angst with no happy ending yet, heartbreak, and miscommunication. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This was written for @the-slumberparty​‘s I Spy Challenge. I used the bouquet of flowers and diamond necklace prompts. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome aboard this Stark Airlines flight from New York to Chicago. On the flight deck this morning is Captain Bucky Barnes and First Officer Sam Wilson. I’m Y/N, your lead flight attendant, and myself and my fellow flight attendants will take care of you today.” As she rattles through the pre-flight announcements and the safety message that has become second nature to her by this point, Y/N smiles brightly. She loves her job, especially being able to travel around the world and meet new people. As a flight attendant, she sees people from all walks of life, and she’s glad to be a part of their journey, no matter their destination.

Once the flight reaches cruising altitude and the drinks service has started, Y/N heads to the cockpit. “Good morning, you two. Can I get you guys a drink or something to eat?” She asks as she steps inside. Honestly, she’s incredibly glad to have Bucky and Sam on her flight. Some pilots she works with can be unfriendly or just downright rude, but Bucky and Sam always greet her with a smile and make sure she and her team are okay. As Bucky turns to smile at her, she feels her chest tightening slightly. She appreciates it more than they’ll ever know.

“Hey you! Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s things?” Sam grins. 

“Not bad. Just been working. And I know! It’s been too long. I see Bucky more often than I see you. I swear he only takes flights I’m on.” She jokes. 

“Maybe I do.” Bucky smirks, and Y/N feels something in her stomach flutter. “I swear she deserves a present for putting up with me for so long.” Bucky chuckles, checking some instruments. 

“Hm. You can get me some flowers then.” 

“Nah, I think by this point you deserve a diamond necklace.” 

“Ooh, lucky me.” She chuckles, making a note of their orders before disappearing back to the galley. Although she can’t help but feel how her stomach twinges slightly at his words. She knows Bucky is just joking, but deep down she doesn’t want anything like a diamond necklace, or anything else material. Y/N wants something that can’t be bought, something that she’s convinced doesn’t exist. Y/N just wants Bucky to want her back, to feel the same love she feels for him. 

From the moment she first met the smooth talking Captain, Y/N fell head over heels in love with him. Handsome, charming, incredibly talented and kind, Bucky Barnes is the full package. Although she may joke about the amount of flights they take together, she’s glad to spend so much time with him. Because deep down, she knows they can’t be together outside of their job. At first, she wondered if his chest fluttered the same way hers does whenever they see each other, or if her smile makes his heart beat a little faster too. Perhaps he even thinks of just how her body looks under her uniform, too. Unfortunately, though, that dream got destroyed a long time ago. He may laugh and joke with her in the air, but Y/N’s convinced herself that on the ground, she means nothing to Bucky. Of course, she’s tried a few times to connect with him outside of work, suggesting going for dinner or even just for a coffee, but Bucky always seems to be just too busy for her. And after a while, Y/N stopped asking, telling herself to stop trying before she falls too hard, and her heart breaks beyond repair. Even though it’s hard enough to not think about the love of your life when you work alongside him as much as she does. As she fills Bucky and Sam’s coffee cups, she pictures Bucky’s smile, and her chest tightens once more.

Or maybe it already is broken beyond repair. 

After furiously wiping at her eyes to hide the tears that are no doubt building, Y/N re-enters the cockpit.

“Alright, you two, here’s your coffee.” 

“Thanks Y/N, you’re a star.” Bucky grins. Y/N nods, trying not to let her smile fall. She’s good at that. At falling apart with a smile on her face the whole time. Especially when Bucky is around.

“Thanks. Anything else I can get you both?”

“No, but we were wondering if you want to get dinner with us in Chicago tomorrow.” Sam offers.

“Yeah, it’s just a group of us, but you’re more than welcome to join.” Bucky adds.

“Of course it is. It always is.” Yet, she nods, reinforcing her perfectly fake smile. “That sounds perfect.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, Y/N sits in her hotel bar, nursing a drink. Tinder is open on her phone, and she scrolls through each potential match…rejecting every single one of them. There’s no way she’ll find her Mr Perfect here, especially since nobody is striking her as the one right away. “Because they’re not Bucky Barnes.” Sighing sadly, she places her phone down on the table and takes another gulp of her drink. Maybe after this, she’ll just go to her room and not come out ever again. After all, she’s already destined to be alone for the rest of her life, so she better start now.

“Is this seat taken?” An all too familiar voice asks, and Y/N’s stomach churns.

“Not at all.” She answers, regretting it almost immediately as Bucky sits opposite her. He’s wearing a navy blue shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. He’s dressed far more casually than she’s used to seeing him, but the look still makes her heartbeat intensify. He’s gorgeous, in or out of uniform. “Hey stranger.” Bucky furrows his brow, laughing.

“I saw you this morning, remember?” That moment feels like a lifetime ago, a whole other time. It’s then that Y/N realises this is the longest that both of them, and only them, have been together on the ground. She gulps.

“Oh…right.” She chuckles awkwardly. A silence falls amongst the pair, and Y/N’s sense of unease rises. Things have never been this awkward between them both. Then again, though, she’s never been alone with Bucky this long. This is all she wanted, and yet she has no idea what to do or say to him.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want another?” Bucky asks, gesturing to her almost empty glass. After he disappears to the bar, Y/N wrestles with what to do. A part of her worries that the second she opens her mouth again, all her thoughts and true feelings about Bucky will spill out before she can stop them. Her gaze turns to Bucky, like it always does. As she watches him laughing with the bartender, running a hand through his hair, she smiles happily. A familiar warm feeling, the one she always feels when Bucky is around her, builds in her stomach.

If he knew the truth, would that really be so bad?

“Here we go.” Bucky grins, sitting back opposite her. “Cheers to good friends and coworkers.” He announces, and the pair clink their glasses together. Y/N tries to suppress her disappointment. Maybe a coworker is all she’s destined to be to him. 

“Thanks for putting up with me for so long. Maybe you’re the one who needs a gift.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.

“Y/N, I was never putting up with you. I love having you on my flight crew. You have no idea how happy I get seeing you walking through the terminal. You’re my favourite person.” Y/N smiles, this time even wider. She swears this is the happiest and truest her smile has ever been. As Bucky smiles over at her, a thought enters her mind. Does he…feel the same about her? Her heart rate picks up, and her head spins. Bucky leans in closer, so close she can feel his breath on her skin. It feels like she’s on fire. “You know, Y/N….” He trails off, and her eyebrow raises.

But then, the sound of her phone beside her cuts through the conversation. And the notification that flashes up on the screen comes at the worst possible time. It’s Tinder, telling her that someone has liked her profile. Bucky’s face pales, and Y/N’s stomach churns. Immediately, she knows what that look means.

He’s seen it.

Bucky leans back in his seat with a sigh. “Oh. Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were looking for someone. Congrats.” He sounds deflated, like the happiness has been sucked out of him. And Y/N begins to panic. No. This cannot be happening. Not now. Not ever.

“Bucky, wait.” She gasps, but he shakes his head. 

“No, no. It’s okay. Good on you for trying to find someone. God knows it’s hard enough to find your true love in our profession.” He chuckles awkwardly. Yet, his laugh sounds like it’s lost all warmth. Like he’s just hiding behind a smile…just like her. And with that, her entire heart shatters. “I’m gonna finish this drink, then go to bed, I think. Busy day tomorrow.” Before she can protest, Bucky all but downs his drink, getting up soon after. “Goodnight Y/N.”

“Bucky, sit down and listen to me.” She hisses. “Please.” Bucky sighs, turning back to her. He can’t even meet her eyes.

“Y/N. Don’t give up on your chance at happiness. Trust me.” And then he’s gone, walking towards the elevators. Y/N knows she should go after him, but she can’t get up. All she can think about is how she’s messed everything up for both her and Bucky. The last thing either of them needs is her ruining everything even more. She’s already done enough.

And this time, the heartbreak hurts more than she could ever have imagined.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Y/N is roused from her restless sleep by a furious knocking on her hotel door. For a moment, she hopes it’s Bucky, here to admit the truth like they do in the movies. But then the entirety of their conversation from last night hits her again. It feels like a giant bucket of cold water has been dumped over her. And with it, the heartbreak starts all over again. 

When she opens the door, she knows she can’t be surprised that Bucky isn’t standing there, his trademark smile still on his lips. Although, she’s incredibly disappointed. He probably never wants to see her again. Or at least, not any time soon. Deep down, she knows she can’t even be mad at him for it. The person standing there is a hotel employee.

“Present for you, miss.” He announces, passing over a bouquet of flowers. Although they’re beautiful, and feature an array of her favourite colours, the sight makes Y/N’s heart sink. She already knows who they’re from before she even reads the card. 

“To the most special woman I know, the one who puts up with me on almost every flight and deserves far more than she gets. Honestly, you deserve a lot more than these flowers, but I know how much you love these ones, so I had to get you them. Thank you for all you have done for me so far…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. I wish you all the happiness that you deserve. One day you’ll get your necklace. From Bucky.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post.

[thornsnvultures]

Already There

Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x plus size!fem!reader

cw: slight angst, 950 words

a/n: a short follow up to my fic Ooey Gooey after Bucky leaves with Sam. I've had this 2/3rds written for like 5 or 6 months now 🙃 finished up the rest of it for @the-slumberparty 's week two prompt: Write a drabble/one shot as a continuation to one of your previous works. Based on the song "I'm Already There" by Lonestar. divider by @/firefly-graphics

Bucky can't sleep. Anxiety seeping through his bones. His body isn't used to being on the road for this long anymore.

Sitting at the edge of the too soft, too small bed in just his boxers. Even though the room is cool he's covered in sweat from a night of tossing and turning.

Bucky runs his hands through his hair and thinks of you. How your warm smile can wipe away all his worries. It's why he starts every day with you at the general store. And why he feels your absence so strongly now.

He wants to see you.

It's been days but it feels like years. His phone is a brick, built for making emergency calls out in the middle of nowhere, not video calls like Sam's fancy new iPhone. It still has an antenna for fuck's sake. Until you, Bucky didn't have a reason for a real cell phone. He knows Sam wouldn't mind Bucky using his but Bucky's not waking him up so he can tease him about giving his sort of girlfriend a call at one am.

So Bucky sits there, contemplating. He scratches his stubbled jaw, worrying at his lower lip. Would you even pick up this late at night? You said you'd answer no matter what, but this is different from his usual 9am calls when you're already up and most likely at work.

"Fuck."

Sam stirs behind him on the other bed but doesn't wake. Bucky throws on a pair of sweats and heads for the door to the balcony, grabbing the brick on his way out.

The cool night air wraps around Bucky his sweat slick skin feeling tight as he closes the sliding glass door. There's not much of a view, just the parking lot of this old motel and the fog dense trees beyond.

But the moon, she's nearly full and so, so bright.

Bucky takes a deep breath and dials your number, pushing away thoughts of whether or not he deserves to hear your voice right now. It doesn't matter, he can be selfish for a moment.

The phone rings twice and in those short seconds Bucky's heart rate skyrockets almost painfully until, finally, you answer.

"Bucky?"

The breathy way you whisper his name makes his stomach tighten. It's a moment too long before he responds.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?"

Bucky can hear your sheets rustling, the switch to your lamp clicking on as you presumably sit up in bed.

"Yeah...yeah I'm sorry for waking you. Just couldn't sleep."

He hesitates, the frayed drawstring hanging from his sweats unraveling even more as Bucky plays with it while he takes a deep, shaking breath.

"I -- uh, I wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh."

You sound surprised. Bucky hesitates.

"I'm sorry, it's late I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No! No, it's okay. I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, Bucky," your giggle makes Bucky smile, feel that warmth spread through his chest again like it did the last time he saw you. Filling him to burst with that one sound.

"God I miss you, sugar. Sam's keeping me up all night with his snoring."

"Oh, no. Is it that bad?," you gasp in mock horror.

Bucky smirks as one of Sam's snores rattles through the glass door behind him.

"The worst, sugar. He could wake the dead."

"Should'a sent you off with ear plugs, huh?"

"Mm, you'll have to remind me next time."

Bucky pauses at the prospect of a "next time", of leaving you again when he's just got started loving you like he's wanted to for what feels like forever.

"I miss you, sugar."

"I miss you too, Buck," he can hear your sweet smile. It makes his heart ache.

Bucky's throat feels tight. He didn't know how much he needed to see your beautiful face every day until he left.

"Is it silly to feel this way? Like I can't breathe without you here."

"It's not silly," you sniffle on the other end of the line and Bucky almost regrets saying anything.

"I can't wait to feel you again. Take you in my arms and not let you go."

You laugh into the receiver and Bucky can't stop from smiling.

"Sam will have to pry me off you with a crowbar to get you off me and back to the Mill."

"He's welcome to try," Bucky practically snarls.

"I love you, Bucky."

He swallows the lump in his throat, taken aback by your sudden admission.

"I know you're having a hard time, but I'm right there with you, sleeping under the same moonlight and wishing you were right here with me. It's not silly. You're not asking for too much. And I miss you way more than you miss me."

Bucky scoffs at your teasing and wipes at his eyes. "No way, sugar.

"Prove it to me when you get back, then. Show me how much you missed me when you see me again and we'll decide then."

"I love you, sugar."

"I know. Make it back home safe so I can have you all to myself."

Bucky adjusts his sleep pants, imagining all the ways he can have you just how he wants to.

"Get some sleep, Buck. I need to know you'll be safe out there on the road."

"I will. I promise."

"Good. Good night, handsome.

"Goodnight, sugar."

Bucky hangs up, giving the antenna a satisfying click shut. He takes one last look at the moon before heading back inside and crawling under the covers. For the first time since before his accident, Bucky falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. And he dreams of you, bathed in moonlight.

[lillywillow]

Blind Double Date

Summary: Your friend Foggy sets you up with his best friend Matt

Written for: @the-slumberparty

Words: 1246

Square Filled: G4- Set Up by Friends

Pairing: Matt Murdoch x Female Reader

Warnings: None

Ever since you first step foot in your Thursday night cooking class, you and Foggy Nelson had been pretty much inseparable. He was funny, really good to talk to and offered great advice if you had a problem. In short, Foggy was like a brother to you. In turn, Foggy had come to see you as a kind of sister. You also both often spoke about your love-lives. Foggy became protective when he heard of guys harassing you and you gave him advice on women.

…

Another Thursday night rolled around and you arrived at your usual spot, waving Foggy over as soon as he walked in.

“Hey, Y/N! How was your date last Friday?” Foggy asked, taking his place next to you.

“Not bad. Not great, but not bad,” you sighed.

“Yeah?”

“He was an okay guy, it’s just… I don’t know. Maybe my romance button is broken or needs resetting or something…” you shrugged, looking over this week’s recipe.

Foggy laughed and looked it over too.

“For what it’s worth, I get what you’re saying. My date last weekend wasn’t all that great either.”

As you started preparing your ingredients, you and Foggy lamented over your failed dates and complained about the state of your romantic lives. Sure, you could cut out the middleman and just date each other but you decided it might get awkward if things went wrong and you still had to come to this class every week. Also, you had become such great friends, the last thing you wanted to do was lose what you had.

“How about we set each other up with dates?” you suggested.

“Sounds good to me… got someone in mind?” he asked, turning down the heat on the cooking appliance.

“You know my friend Gracie?” you prompted, adding your ingredients to the mix.

“Is that the same Gracie that was caught topless sunbathing at what she thought was a nude beach?” he questioned.

“That’s the one,” you grinned.

During your time together, you had told Foggy many stories about your friend Gracie and her various antics.

“Heck yeah! Set that up!” he grinned back.

“What about you? Got someone in mind for me?”

“Sure do. You remember my friend Matt?”

“That’s your law firm partner, right?” you asked.

Foggy often spoke very highly of Matt, and had said a lot about him.

“Yep. How about him?” Foggy suggested.

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled.

“Great! So, I’ll set you up with Matt and you’ll set me up with Gracie.”

As you continued your cooking class, the pair of you discussed the best time for your blind double date.

…

The next night, you and Gracie went to the restaurant that you and Foggy agreed upon at the agreed time. Your friend asked you all sorts of questions while you waited for the two males to arrive.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Foggy with another man standing behind him. The man was brunette with a little stubble and wearing red glasses. You thought he was quite handsome. Introductions were exchanged and the four of you sat down. From that first moment, Gracie and Foggy made an instant connection, chatting away about this and that but for you and Matt, things were a little different. Connecting with other adults never came easy to you and you had the feeling Matt was a little guarded.

“So, Y/N, Foggy tells me you’re a teacher,” he began, trying to strike up a conversation.

“That’s right. I mostly work with underprivileged kids and those that the school has more or less given up on. I can see these kids trying so hard but so many people have turned their backs on them because they can’t be bothered. I want to show them that there’s someone out there who does care…”

Matt smiled warmly.

“I know what you mean. Foggy and I take on cases for people that society have given up on. It’s like they think the problem will go away on its own rather than deal with it before it gets to breaking point.”

“Exactly!”

With the ice broken, you felt a little more at ease. For you, that was one of the more difficult parts of being set up with a complete stranger; making small talk until you found that connection. The pair of you continued discussing the similarities between your jobs while Foggy and Gracie continued to get along. So well along that they decided to ditch the pair of you to get a room. Feeling a little abandoned by your friend, you started feeling that uneasiness again.

“I get the feeling you want to go home?” Matt asked, picking up on something you were putting out there.

“It’s not that… It’s just… Every time I go on a date lately, I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m not giving the guys a long enough chance. I mean, how well can you get to know a person over one dinner?”

Matt was silent for a few minutes.

“How about this… we go for a walk, spend a little more time with each other. If at the end of it, you don’t feel anything, you tell me to buzz off, no harm done…” You laughed a little at that. “But if you feel sparks… we can see where this goes,” he suggested.

“I’d really like that…”

…

After paying for your meals, you headed down the street. You held onto Matt’s arm partly as a guide, partly because it made you feel safe. As you walked, you got through all those basic “Getting to know you” questions that were common on a first date but not one did you feel awkward. At one point, you stopped to get some frozen yoghurt from a nice little shop nearby. You read the flavours out to Matt so he could make a decision and described the interior of the shop to him while you sat and ate. When you were finished, Matt walked you to your door.

“So… here we are… What’s the verdict?” Matt grinned.

“Hm, I don’t know… usually the goodnight kiss makes the final cut,” you playfully teased.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Smiling, you gently pressed your lips to his. Matt’s hands made their way to your cheeks, his thumbs stroking your skin. This is what you had built up in your head; a great date ending with the perfect kiss. His hands didn’t roam, his breath was fresh and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. This is everything you were looking for. As you pulled away, you had a dreamy smile on your face.

“So… is this the part you tell me to buzz off?”

You laughed and playfully punched his chest.

“No. That… that was a really good kiss,” you breathed.

“Do you want to see where this goes?” he asked.

“I do, Matt… I really do…”

After saying your goodbyes, Matt waited to make sure you were safe inside before heading off.

…

The following Thursday, you and Foggy celebrated over your successful dates for the night as you started cooking. Neither of you could believe your luck that you both walked away from what could have been awkward blind dates with potential new relationships. You couldn’t wait to see where they would lead you.

[the-slumberparty]

Weekend What If?

Ever wonder what would've happened if a character made a different choice? Or if a plot twist totally changed the course of a story?

Reblog if you'd like readers to ask you 'what ifs?' about any of your works?

[tom-whore-dleston]

Home is Wherever I'm With You

Pairing ▹ roommate!Joaquin Torres x f. reader

This fic contains ▹ fluff, some angst, implied smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, smoking weed, hospitals, mention of gunshots, a lot of pancakes

Word Count ▹ 2k

Summary ▹ Oh, home, let me come home | Home is wherever I'm with you

Notes ▹ Finally got around to completing my submission for @the-slumberparty’s Across the Universe (week 4) challenge. This fic is inspired by this moodboard from an old sleepover. Feel free to listen to the playlist for extra vibes! This is unbeta'ed so I take full responsibility for all the errors. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

You didn’t understand the phrase “home is where the heart is'' until you moved in with Joaquin Torres.

This living arrangement happened by chance, a chance that you were grateful to have stumbled upon. After deciding it was time for you to leave the nest, you found a place for rent that also had a few other roommates. One of them being Joaquin.

You met Joaquin and the other roommates before moving in with them. Luckily, you all hit it off right away and settled in fairly quickly. But you found yourself really close to Joaquin. He was the one roommate that had a similar schedule to yours. You both would wake up late in the morning before heading to work, and then come home in the darkest hours of the night. 

The first time you discovered how late Joaquin returned home from work was the night your friendship began. After coming home from a long day, you decided to treat yourself to a batch of pancakes. The rest of your roommates were heavy sleepers so you rarely disturbed them. Since you were occupied with the pancakes, you didn’t hear Joaquin come through the door. He waltzed into the kitchen upon smelling the pancakes and crept up behind you. 

“I bet those would taste amazing with bananas,” Joaquin commented nonchalantly. You whipped your head around, swatting the spatula in his direction and accidentally coating his nose with batter.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” You gasped, attempting to clean the mess from his face. “I thought you were an intruder. I didn’t mean to hurt you…or cover you in pancake batter.”

Joaquin snickered. “Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me at all. But I admire your self defense skills. I think that will give me motivation to keep the bathroom clean.”

You joined in his laughter. “I think I made enough for you if you’d like some pancakes. You might have to slice your own bananas, though.” 

With that, you and your roommate shared the short stacks while getting to know one another better. This ritual of late night snacks after work persisted until the conversations grew louder to the point of accidentally waking one of your other roommates. Since that incident, you and Joaquin decided it would be best to meet one another at the 24 hour diner down the street. 

Over time, your roommates moved out one by one until you and Joaquin were left to hold down the fort. The two of you living together consisted of movie binges on the weekends, checking out the monthly farmer’s market, dancing while cleaning the perimeter of the house, and taking walks along your street during sunset. Slowly, but surely, you were falling deeply in love with Joaquin. 

You knew you had strong feelings for him when you both decided to buy a bookshelf for your ever growing book collection. While building the bookshelf, you jammed the hammer against your finger, causing you to shriek in pain and the rest of your body to go numb. All you remembered before blacking out was your roommate rushing to your side and carrying you out the house bridal style. A few hours later, you woke up in the hospital with a cast wrapped around your finger and a relieved Joaquin holding a bouquet of roses and baby's breaths. The smell of the flowers and his sweet, handsome face instantly brought you comfort.

“Shouldn’t you be at work right now?” You asked upon noticing the time on your bedside.

“I told Sam what happened and he ordered that I stay here with you.” You gave him a sad look, feeling bad that your clumsiness caused him to miss out at work. Joaquin smiled, patting your hand. “Don’t worry, Sam is understanding.” The softness of his hand against yours sent butterflies to your stomach. Your heart began to swell as if it would explode inside your chest from all the feelings you were experiencing in that moment. His touch, his smile, his affection for you. It was all clear to you then. You were in love with Joaquin Torres. 

After returning home from the hospital, Joaquin spent the entire week by your side, making sure you were taken care of. Sure, you were a grown up and could care for yourself, but you appreciated how your roommate reminded you that you don’t have to be alone in the healing process. He would sing softly while tending to your finger and let you smoke some of his weed to ease the pain. Once you started feeling better, you and Joaquin finished building the bookcase together and he offered to read one of his favorite stories to you.

One day while Joaquin read to you, Sam called him, notifying him of an emergency assignment and was expected to leave right away. The night before he left, you and Joaquin crashed on the couch after getting high and watching an alien documentary on Netflix. You fell asleep before he did, and, naturally, your body curled up next to his as you dozed off. He listened to your snores for a few minutes before planting a tender peck on top of your head. Before he knew it, Joaquin drifted off to sleep.

You woke up alone in the living room, searching for Joaquin. Instead, you were met with a note on the coffee table.

Sorry I couldn’t give a proper goodbye. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I would have been a horrible friend to wake you up. I’ll see you in a month!

-J

While your roommate was away on mission, you spent your days sulking and missing him. You tried to go on with your routine as if he was still there, but things felt empty and meaningless. The pancakes from the diner didn’t taste as fluffy when you ate alone. The music you listened to while cleaning the house didn’t lift your mood the way it did with Joaquin. His favorite stories didn’t sweep you away to another world the way it did when he read them. The flowers around your house died faster, even though you tended to them the same way you always had. You didn’t even bother taking walks or going to the farmer’s market by yourself. It was the longest month you had ever experienced in your life. 

Meanwhile, Joaquin could not wait to fly back home to you. The days were long and draining, and it seemed as if he and Sam were constantly running into dead ends. What kept him motivated during this difficult mission was a photo booth strip he kept of you and him at the summer fair. Even though looking at the pictures made him miss you dearly, he was hopeful of the day he would reunite with him.

“Is that the roommate?” Sam inquired from behind Joaquin’s shoulder. The Falcon’s cheeks warmed up and he began smiling like a smitten school boy. Joaquin didn’t need to say anything for Sam to know what was on his mind.

“So, are you ever going to tell her you love her?” Captain America added with a quirked eyebrow. 

“I’ve been wanting to. I just get nervous.” Joaquin peered down at his combat boots. “She’s my best friend, Sam. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“Ouch, and after all we’ve been through, I thought I was your best friend.” Sam’s joke led to Joaquin letting out a small chuckle. “No, but seriously, you will feel much more free once you just tell her.” The younger lad nodded, imagining all the best case scenarios of confessing his love for you. His daydreams of you were cut off by the gunshots that echoed in the distance.

The end of the month finally rolled around, yet there was no sign of Joaquin. Anxiety took over your body as you wondered why he hasn’t come home yet. Part of you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but your sadness made your mind wander to anything and everything that could have gone wrong. You dragged yourself to work as you have been doing for the entirety of Joaquin’s absence. While you worked, you stared at the matching photo booth strip pinned to the wall of your office. A hot tear streamed down your cheek, longing to see Joaquin’s face and hear his voice again.

After work, you came home, ready to settle into your comfy bed. You sighed loudly as you hopped out of your car, slamming the driver’s door shut and locking it behind you. All of a sudden, your eyes landed on a motorcycle that you haven’t seen in over a month. Then, you saw light coming from inside the house. Could it be?

You ripped off your work pumps, bolting into the house barefoot in hopes that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. As you entered through the front door, the delicious scent of bananas and vanilla filled your nostrils. Your heart bursted at the seams upon the sight you found in the kitchen. Joaquin was humming along to your favorite song while drizzling a stack of banana pancakes with syrup. As if sensing your presence, he beamed a sparkling smile while turning to face you. 

“I came home an hour ago to an empty home. Figured you were still at work and you’d probably be hungry when you come back.” He paused, glancing at the plate on the counter. “I made sure to add bananas this time.”

Your lips trembled as you fought the urge to cry. You wanted to run and jump into his arms, feel his warmth bring you back to life, kiss the lips you have been aching to taste for an entire year. All you could do was drop your bag and heels by your side as you succumbed to the tears that fell from your face. Joaquin took that as his signal to step closer to you. He caressed your face, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

“I missed you,” you croaked, finally embracing him tightly. Your hearts beat in sync with one another, as if that was the way the universe wanted it.

“I missed you too.” He stroked the back of your head before making space to gaze into your glossy eyes. “It’s hard to be away from the girl I am madly in love with.” You couldn’t help but let out a tearful giggle at the words that left Joaquin’s mouth. It felt as if all of your wildest dreams were coming true. Yet it was only the beginning.

“Being The Falcon requires me to travel the world so often, and to see places I’ve always wanted to visit. But none of that matters to me because despite where I go, I find myself wanting to be wherever you are instead.”

“I love you, Joaquin.” You started to close the space between you and him. The tips of your noses brushed together, the heat from your breaths mingling like your feelings for one another.

“I love you, too, cariño.” With that, he finally pressed his lips against yours. You kissed one another with a passion that no one could snuff out. His lips were sweeter than the pancakes that were long neglected on the counter. Joaquin lifted you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist as he led you to the couch where you both professed your love throughout the rest of the night.

When you both woke up the next morning, bare bodies intertwined under the thin blanket, you felt a sense of belonging. It was unfamiliar to the two of you, but it was a feeling you accepted with open arms. You and Joaquin were both hopeful of the future that you were ready to build together like the bookcase filled with stories you hoped would become your reality. After locking eyes for what seemed like eternity, Joaquin kissed you with fervor, and you picked up where you left off from last night.

He was home, and so were you.

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[frostironfudge]

Keep My Secret - (Bucky x Reader x Steve)

Summary: The search for Bucky and Steve is shrouded in darkness, will you find the light and the loves of your lives?

my entry for @the-slumberparty 's week one i spy challenge, i had the theme isolation and setting fairy tale and this is what i came up with, hope you enjoy it! ‘Leather cuffs’ and ‘bouquet of flowers’ were also prompts.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: dark setting, allusions to future dub-con (none explicitly described or stated), isolation, kidnapping, dark magical elements, dark character and one soft dark character (i'm not saying who is who because i don't want to give it away), allusions to torture, wounds mentioned, mind control, power dynamics, dark fae magic.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Steve Rogers

Main Masterlist || AO3

The scent of rain soaked mud slowly clambers up the endless walls. You do remember the word for it, the grogginess around your mind isn’t clearing. Otherwise you’re sure you would know. 

A rumble in the distance followed by a louder boom. You hear a cough followed by a groan. The presence is familiar. The darkened room seldom aids your half mast gaze. 

Dull aches finally register along your temple and cheekbone. When your fingers reach out the remembrance sets in, leather cuffs. Binds that tie you to this fate. Another groan, your head lols towards it. You whimper as you recognise him despite the state of his body. 

“B-bucky?” You call out, his head snaps up, then he groans yet again. 

Bucky shakes off the pain, enhanced vision allowing him to trace you across the circular room. Strands of his now long hair fall back. Months. Months spent locked in this tower. Months since he was gone and asked you not to follow. 

His brows furrow, there was something different today in the tower and it wasn’t the petrichor. Cobwebs still decorated the ceilings, dust settled in around objects. The table with familiar tools is the only clean surface, and there lay coated in the softest of dew drops—bougainvillaeas. Tied with a leather string. Bucky’s eyes find you again. The flowers held meaning to you. Currently the bouquet symbolises you. 

“Malyshka (baby).” 

You look back at him from the floor. The flash of lightning outside illuminates him. Blue eyes full of worry, crimson coats his skin. It felt as if eons since you heard the endearment from his lips. 

“What have they done?” You beg to know, “Bucky, where have you been? I, I—,”

“Malyshka, I told you not to follow me.” He sighs, on his knees making his way towards you. The chain tugs on his arm when he attempts to touch your face. 

“You were gone, you promised and you were gone. Just like he did. I had to find you. We’ll get out.” You assure him, you had a plan, you had the tracker. Sam would find the two of you. “Then we’ll find him, we will all return home.”

“Malyshka, we are—,”

The door opens, cutting off Bucky’s reply. 

Fresh flame torches carried in by the soldiers in black and red replace the burnt out ones on the walls. The stone illuminated with an orange glow. The flames flicker as the only window allows wind into the room. They leave the door open. 

A larger figure walks in, a mask covering his face, a mane of dark hair surrounds him. 

“Did you like my present?” he questions, the voice carries an echo of foreign familiarity, his large palm moving to cradle Bucky’s head, fisting in his hair. Bucky’s jaw clenched. 

“Hmm, this hair suits you better. A reminder of glorious days.” The man hums. 

“I have no need for presents.” Bucky spits out and the man tsks. 

“The gift of flowers was for her, you need to be more appreciative. I remember you being more affectionate.” The man sighs, fingers running through Bucky’s hair, almost intimate. Your brows furrow. The brunette turns his head away away, then a slap echoes through the room, “Be respectful, Soldat.” 

Bucky spits out the iron laced saliva pooling in his mouth. 

You look at the flowers, one of your lesser known favourites. Only two people knew the meaning the flowers held for you. 

Your eyes widen at the HYDRA symbol on the man’s back. He turns to you. The mask hides his identity and unease pools in your stomach as you stare at the void blackened eyes of the mask. 

“Tell me then,” the man squats before you, gripping your chin harshly, you cry out as his gloved fingers dig into the cut along your jaw, “I asked you a question, did you not like flowers, mo chridhe (my heart)?” 

Bucky closes his eyes as your accusing gaze meets him, then back to the masked man. The dark laughter echoes around the room and cracks your heart into pieces. 

He squishes your cheeks together, your tears pool over his fingers, trailing down the glove to his wrist. 

“Ste-Steve?” You ask, he shakes his head, taking off his mask. The beard on him familiar, his hair longer, indicating the time of him being gone. However the blue eyes you fell in love with and saw your future in are now surrounded by a thin ring of silver. 

The lips belong to Steve but the smile is no longer warm, it only sends a cold chill through you. 

“B-bucky, what—,” You sputter, Steve’s grip tightens. 

“Are you going to tell her, baby?” He quirks a brow, lazily looking back at Bucky. 

Bucky’s shoulders shake, lips trembling. He meets your eyes with tear stained cheeks. 

“He isn’t, he isn’t our Steve.” 

Your widened eyes move back to him, no, it can’t be, Steve is, Steve is supposed to, what has HYDRA done to him?

“Oh mo chridhe, your shared Steve’s long gone, but fret not. I will make sure the two of you are cared for, like my own sweet little pets. I remember everything your Stevie did and had done to him by the two of you. Mmm, wrapped around me, wrapped around Bucky. You are quite the sight.” He smirks, eyes alight with a mirth you cannot find yourself in this bleak tower. 

“Who are you?” You question as he releases you, “you aren’t Steve, Bucky, this isn’t, no. Please we have to fight him! We have to find Steve!” You plead. 

Steve shifts, you then see it, Bucky’s missing arm. How had you not noticed? You look around the tower. Flashes pass through your mind, the forest, the mist, and the torn wings. The sobbing man. Pleading for help. 

The flash of blonde and blue. The call of help from brunette and azure.

You gave the hunched over man in pain your name. 

“Why, I’m Steve Rogers of course. He’s James Barnes and you are Y/N Y/L/N. You should never give the fae your name but shh, my little play things,” Steve cups your head and Bucky’s, “Those little soldiers outside know me as Hydra Supreme. So let's keep this little secret between us three. Hmm?” He raises a brow, then chuckles at your hurt expressions, eyes crinkling and reminding you so much of your Steve. 

“Oh cmon, you look at me as if I killed your little Stevie. Maybe I did, but I will make you forget, I’ll let you rule, well atleast beneath me.” He leans closer, lips brushing against Bucky’s chapped lips and then your busted one, he licks the stray traces of blood humming, “What do you say then my pets?” 

“If you think for one second we’re going to agree with you you second rate, fucking asshole—,” Bucky’s eyes glow silver, his words cut off, “I want to rule under you, Sire.” 

“Please, not Bucky, please, don’t we, Steve, please we—we will rule under you, Sire.” Your words aren’t your own, you watch on as Steve smiles pleased with the two of you. 

“Such good pets, I will allow the two of you to feel pleasure tonight but after I’ve had my fill. It’s going to be a long night.” He turns away, releasing the glamour from Bucky. 

Bucky blinks, the silver disappearing for a moment from his eyes. He stares down at his arms, both flesh and metal and then at you with your eyes gleaming silver. 

“Steve.” He says in warning, “She doesn’t deserve this, please reconsider. I know we wanted her all to ourselves but I can’t strip her of her will.” 

The blond clicks his tongue, eyes narrowed at his lover, “I do not appreciate you disregarding every single bit of my sacrifice for you two, James. Do not force me to stoop low for you too.” He turns walking towards the table, picking up the flowers. 

“You already have,” Bucky shakes his head, gently cradling your face, your eyes vacant, “I’m so sorry, Malyshka.” 

Steve’s jaw clenches, anger coursing through his veins. The flowers fall to the floor, stems broken, petals scattered. Bucky turns, reaching for the gun in his holster. 

“You shouldn’t have given me your name, James Barnes. You little humans, your love shall be your undoing.” Steve waves a hand, Bucky lands on his knees. 

Dust rising around the two of you, gleaming collars forming around your and Bucky’s necks, chains attached and held in Steve’s palm. 

“Now, crawl to your king, my pets.” His menacing smile widens as you both fall on all fours.

-x-

[callingsergeantbarnes]

Forever

Pairing:- Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

Vampire AU

Summary:- Bucky has spent a century without you, now that he has finally found you he is afraid to lose you. Will you be willing to spend forever with him, to become a creature of the night?

Word Count:- 1211 (I really tried to make this shorter but it ran away from me)

Warnings:- Explicit Sexual content.  Vampire AU. Vampire Bucky. Unprotected Sex (Practice safe sex) blood drinking - (vampires), hints of self-doubt. There are some feels in this one possibly. 

A/N:- 18+ For the @the-slumberparty​ Warm Up Drabble. I got the word Vampire. I hope you enjoy it, I did try and keep it short and sweet but it ended up going over a thousand words. No beta so some mistakes may have slipped through. Title banner is by me. Other banners is by  @maysdigitalarts  Divider is by @firefly-graphics​ 

He should have known one sip would never have been enough the first time he met you.

Not when the sweet wine of your blood tasted as divine on his tongue as it did. A golden nectar of captured sunlight, summer fruits, and the things he had longed for in the long, dark night.

One taste and you intoxicated him. One taste and you became his addiction. His craving, until all he could think about, was devouring you in all ways.

In the century he had lived, he had tasted no one quite like you, never been captivated by such a creature. It went beyond the mere taste of your blood, of how the scent of a summer’s day clung to your skin. Making him dream of days he had long since forgotten about. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he had pictured a summer’s day, dreamed of the sun. Except when lying next to you, your blood on his tongue, your scent surrounding him and the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat as you slept, he dreamed. He remembered. And he missed.

It wasn’t often he allowed himself to dwell on such memories, on forgotten things. Not when the night had brought him to you.

It wasn’t just your blood, though, that had him so captivated. You were beautiful. Your smile could light up a room, and your eyes glistened when the light caught them. You kept him on your toes, with your charm and quick wit, and your mind was always moving, learning, willing to explore.

And fuck did you want to explore.

You yearned for adventure; your soul burned for it as hot as the sun burned in the sky.

Your fearlessness had you going toe to toe with him at his worst, until he fucked you senseless, and you clawed at his back, urging him on, feeding him your blood and taking his own as you mewled with pleasure.

Bucky feared the day he would lose you. Feared the day that would fast approach. Time for a mortal was over in a blink of an eye, and he couldn’t imagine living the centuries without you now that he had met you. The endless cycle without you by his side, not now that he had found you, but was it his right to ask you to give up the world of the sun? The summer days. Possible children.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re brooding so much?” You asked, standing in the doorway of the beach house. The sound of the waves crashing along the shore carried through the night sky as the stars glistened above them.

It wasn’t often that he spent time at this property. A vampire having a home on the beach was asking for trouble, but it was winter, and you loved the beach even in the cold, so the two of you would make do for another week before you moved to a more secure house that offered more shelter for him.

Bucky turned towards you, noting the white lace teddy you were wearing. It shaped your body perfectly, and his gaze followed the shape of your body, the curve of your breasts. He could see the peak of your nipples.

“I’m thinking of the future.” He answered honestly because you knew him well enough to catch him out in a lie.

“You know you could always just ask me, rather than brooding about the future.” You breathed.

“What right do I have to ask?” he asked, brow creasing together.

You moved towards him, stepping outside onto the decking until you were standing right in front of him, before straddling him in his seat.

“Ask me the question, Bucky.” You whispered. He could hear the steady beat of your heart. The confidence you projected filled him with hope. But he had long since given up on hope. Hope wasn’t for a creature such as him.

“Will you stay with me? As a Vampire?”

One beat. Two beats. Three beats.

“I’m yours. Now and forever, Bucky. In whatever form that takes, in this life or the next. Always.”

Bucky stilled. Uncertain, he had heard you right.

You smiled at him. “Yes Bucky. As a Vampire.”

The weight of your gaze pressed along his skin, leaving scorch marks in their wake. Emotions swelled inside of him, and he couldn’t hold himself back from taking you there and then. Not to turn you, but to show you just how fucking happy you had made him.

It was easy enough to part your legs further, slip his robe aside. His cock already hard, the scent of your arousal already filling his nose.

You moved to lower yourself onto his cock, knowing what you both needed, taking him inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched around his girth before you clenched tightly, and he groaned at the sensation.

Bucky swallowed slowly, one hand brushing the strap of your teddy down your shoulder. Neither of you moved as your gazes met. Your heartbeat loudly, awaking the beast inside of him.

Heat enveloped him, and he strained against the urge to thrust hard and fast in and out of you.

“Bucky, fuck me hard and fast. Take me. Make me yours.”

Whispered words that snapped his control just enough to allow his vampiric nature to surge into the front seat.

His hips moved, his cock sliding out almost to the tip before he thrust hard and fast back into you. Your movements matching his as you rocked against him, hips swivelling ever so slightly, that he almost came right there and then.

A merciless, relentless rhythm of bodies moved against each other. A hum vibrated through his body. Fangs descended, and he bit down into your shoulder. The moan that escaped your lips vibrated through him, as he drank your blood, and took the substance he craved so much.

Fuck, did he love you.

Your own teeth scraped his bare shoulder, not sharp enough to pierce his own flesh, but sharp enough to give him a jolt of pleasure.

He held you tight as he drank and thrust hard and fast. Your wetness coated your thighs, and the hot walls engulfed him, clenched and pulsed with every stroke of his cock.

Flushed together, your arms wrapped around him tightly, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to make him shiver at the sharp pain that sent a current of electric shocks through his body.

Muscles at the base of his cock tightened, and the peak of both of your releases rushed through them with one last thrust.

His climax ripped through him. Muscles trembled as he held you, his pulse quickening. You shuddered, mouth open and a low moan came from your lips, making his cock pulse even more as the sound tickled his senses.

The noises you made were fucking delightful to hear. 

Satisfied and full, his fangs retracted, and he gave a slow lick of the wound, allowing his saliva to heal the wound quicker than it would have on its own,, as you snuggled into the side of neck.

“When?” You asked.

“Soon. You’ll enjoy the things you won’t be able to do again.”

“As long as I’m with you, Bucky. Nothing else will matter.”

[mochie85]

Congratulations!!🎉🎈🍾

Could you please do fluff prompt 48 You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” with Tom and shorter reader?

Falling Star

1K Masterlist One-shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: It's Hollywood's biggest night and Tom is hoping to win more than just an Oscar. A/N: Part of my 1k Celebration and @the-slumberparty week 3 writing challenge: Something New. I've never written short-reader trope before. Thank you to @lokisgoodgirl for being my BETA reader and @michelleleewise for some great ideas. I don't know how I could continue to write without your ladies' endless support 😘😘😘. And thank you to @huntress-artemiss for the request. Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Fluff Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Tom looked into the mirror as he rinsed the suds off his hands. Shaking off the excess water, he reached for a towel and dried them. He looked straight into his eyes, trying to keep the nervousness at bay.

It’s a big night for you. You’re going to do fine. You’re probably not going to win anyway, Tom sighed. Just focus on one thing and the rest of the night will go smoothly.

He ran his hands through his hair and pinched his bow tie one last time before he made his way out into the lobby. Focus on one thing, he repeated in his head.

These award shows always leave him a nervous wreck. He never expects to win. When he does, of course, it’s great, but then it brings on a whole new emotion of excitement and anxiety.

When he doesn’t win, it tends to be worse. He has to find that right balance of remorse and humbleness so that the media doesn’t portray him in an evil lie.

Oh, he could read the tabloids now, “And the Oscar goes to…, not Tom Hiddleston.” Or “Hiddles angry that he didn’t win his Oscar. Pictures and commentary on page 3.” He laughed about it internally, a smile on his face as he fixed his cufflinks.

“Come on man. Took you long enough,�� Chris exclaimed patting his back. “I think they stuck most of us in the same row.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. It’d be nice to see some familiar faces again.” Tom recounted the last time he saw anyone from The Avengers movie. The movie that brought together and cemented the friendship of seven individuals.

“I think Scarlet wants you to sit next to her.”

“Oh no. Does she?” Tom fretted.

“What?” Chris wondered.

“She’s been trying to set me up with one of her acquaintances,” Tom rolled his eyes.

“She can be quite persistent,” Hemsworth laughed.

Tom sighed as he accompanied Chris across the massive lobby. The plush red carpet matched the dramatic drapes hung from the ceiling. At the end of the hall was a grand staircase leading upstairs to the auditorium's main entrance.

The two friends stood in line waiting to ascend the stairs as photographers and reporters lined the banisters calling out their names, hoping to get an interview. Tom tried to drown out the noise. He tried to focus on one thing before he went crazy, and his anxiety took over. Tom took a deep breath. Just focus on one thing, he chanted in his head.

He opened his eyes and focused on the first thing he saw, an intricate design of beadwork and crystal that was in front of him. Tiny gold stars were scattered on a black sateen gown. They clustered at the top hem of the dress and sporadically fell towards the bottom. The back of the gown was secured by a beaded pin of a crescent moon, gracing your bare lower back. The whole gown looked like star fall plummeting in the night sky.

“Chris,” Tom whispered. “Is this whom I think it is?” Tom stared hard at your graceful figure. Not once taking his eyes off you. Chris gazed hard at you trying to see whom Tom was talking about.

“Ayee...yup. Yes, that’s her.”

“Didn’t she win the Oscar last year for…”

“Yes. I believe she did.” Chris mused.

“Is she up for anything tonight?”

“I think she’s presenting, actually.”

You gathered your dress, preparing to walk up the imposing staircase. Looking around you making sure you were not going to trip on your own outfit, you held your left hand out to steady yourself as you took that first step.

Tom, sensing you needed help, took your outstretched hand. “May I escort you up the stairs?”

The sudden voice and unexpected contact must have shocked you. You looked up at him with a startled expression and a blush on your face. A small smile graced his lips as he noted the sparkle in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as photographers flashed their cameras at your interaction. Tom held your hand firmly as you gathered the rest of your dress in your other hand. Focused on making each step, Tom held on to you tightly, becoming the anchor you needed in such a cumbersome gown. “They must have altered this dress three times already just for me. But they can’t seem to get the length right. Even with me in heels,” you admitted shyly.

Tom laughed, finally noticing the height difference between you two. He was so used to towering over everyone, he never really gave it much thought.  “Well, it looks lovely on you. You look beautiful tonight.” You looked up suddenly at his compliment. Heat radiating down your skin. Your eyes arrested his thoughts and hitched his breathing, making him at a loss for words.

“The…uh…the dress. The dress is quite beautiful. Oh, not to say that you’re not beautiful. You are! You’re beautiful. In the dress. Oh, God. Please tell me I haven’t botched this up completely?” He stuttered, hiding his face in his palm. You laughed and squeezed his hand.

You almost fumbled at the top step, if it weren’t for him holding on to you so securely. “Thank you,” you said once again, and he reluctantly let go of you. “Good luck tonight. I hope you win,” you said, cheering him on.

“Thank you. You, too. Me too. I-I mean I hope so,” Tom stumbled on his words. You smiled at him once again, heading inside, leaving him to stare after you.

“Smooth,” Chris said, clapping Tom on his shoulder. “Real smooth.”

“Ugh, I’m a complete knob!”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t think she noticed,” Chris said laughing.

Inside, the auditorium was stuffy and pompous. Two hours of everyone with their forged smiles and mock interests. Scarlet did manage to get Tom to sit next to her. She mentioned a friend of a friend who’s a writer for a late-night talk show in Los Angeles. Tom tried his best to be courteous but not commit to anything serious.

Minutes. Hours. They seem to drag by as the night continued up until it was time to announce Best Female Performance in a Leading Role. Tom knew you weren’t nominated for anything tonight, but that didn’t stop him from wondering where you were.

Were you sitting somewhere in the audience with other nominees? Or perhaps you were backstage mingling with some of tonight’s winners. It wouldn’t be long now till they got to the category he was nominated for, which made him nervous.

The heat in the room suddenly increased tenfold and the noise of the audience started to echo in his mind. Their clapping died down as the winner was announced and accepted her award. Focus on one thing. Focus on one thing. He closed his eyes as he took a lungful of air in. Breathing slowly.

Exhaling, Tom opened his eyes and suddenly everything else disappeared. Every sound went silent. Every light dimmed, focusing on a central spotlight on stage. And all he could see was you.

You walked out, unaccompanied, to the soundtrack of your award-winning movie. Tom watched you carefully, knowing full well that you were anxious about your dress and stumbling. With a cool look and a smile on your face, you hid your anxiety about tripping. You demonstrated exactly why you were worthy of that Oscar last year. Carefully taking a calculated step toward the podium and ignoring your long, imposing gown.

“Last year, I was very fortunate to stand up on this very stage and accept the award for Best Female Performance in a Leading Role…”

Tom tried to focus on you, instead of the nagging anxiety that was wracking his brain. Your gown had taken on a different hue under the bright spotlights. It had turned to a rich navy blue. The sequences on the stars shone brighter, glittering to gather everyone’s attention.

“This evening will be another night of firsts for me as I present the award for Best Male Performance in a Leading Role.” Tom was awestruck as he watched you on stage. Your smile was charming, and your laughter was contagious.

Tom heard you say his name twice that night. Once when you were reading the nominees. And the next, when you announced that he won. Chris and Scarlett patted him on the back and tried to wake him from his stupor.

“Mate, you better get up there,” Chris whispered, hugging him on his way. Tom was mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that he won. His nervousness threatened to eat him up whole as he stood up and made his way onstage. He remained focused on you instead, clapping for him as he made his way up more stairs.  You handed him his statue along with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

All at once, he faced the audience and didn’t know what to say. “I- uh…” Tom held on to the statue tightly and looked back at you.  You gave him a reassuring smile and he found that your calming presence helped alleviate his anxiety. “I wasn’t expecting to win tonight. Forgive me, I had no speech prepared,” Tom continued as the audience laughed.

He concluded his speech with thanks to the Academy, other nominees, and his friends and family for all their support.  

After a rousing applause, he made his way to follow you off the stage. He’d hoped to escort you like earlier and have another intimate moment with you. As you turned, your foot caught on the front of the dress causing you to fall forward.

In a heroic move, Tom sprinted to your side and caught you. His arms wrapped around your waist as you turned right-side up. He lunged forward before you fell to the floor, cradling your head.

There was a collective gasp from the audience as they watched the scene unfold. A heated blush spread throughout your body.

“Are you all right?” he asked, alarmed.

“Oh, my God. Yes! Thank you,” you stuttered, holding onto his lapels tightly.

“Of course, darling,” he said as he helped you stand back up.

“You seemed to be saving me a great deal tonight,” you gave him an apologetic look as you ran your hands over your dress. Tom offered his arm, and you gladly took it, hoping you wouldn’t trip again. “Oh, God. I’m so embarrassed. I must’ve looked like an idiot out there.”

“Nonsense, you look magnificent,” Tom replied, kissing your hand.

Tom sat in the dining area of the hotel room. Bright morning light shone through the windows as he read the newspapers and magazines sent to the room, along with the room service. It seemed that all anyone talked about was your tumble from last night and how he caught you. Rumors began to spread as everyone gave their opinions on the matter.

“Did Hiddleston win more than just an Oscar last night?” “Secret Relationship: How long have they been together?” “Was it staged?” These were not the headlines he was expecting to read this morning. A small smile crept on his face seeing all the pictures from different angles.

A soft moan stole his attention as you wrapped your arms around from behind him. “Come back to bed.” You gently kissed his neck, and he could still smell the lingering perfume in your hair.

“I ordered breakfast for us, darling,” he said with a soft whimper.

“How very thoughtful of you,” you teased. Tom grabbed your arm and pulled you around to sit on his lap. He noted that you were wearing nothing but his dress shirt from last night. The sleeves were rolled up and the tails sat just at your knees. You were swimming in his shirt, a look that he was starting to like more and more. Your tousled morning hair reminded him of the carnal way you both took each other last night.

“…Unnhh…” you moaned as he hoisted you against the wall. “Take this infernal dress off me. Please.” “With pleasure,” he snarled.

You sat with your legs over the handrest of the chair as you picked up the papers and read them. A scowl formed on your face the more you read. “I’m sorry, Tom. All this over me falling. I didn’t mean to take away from your big night.”

“That’s quite all right darling. As far as I’m concerned they can keep reporting it all they want.”

You looked at him through your lashes. His tall frame and long arms surround you, cherishing you.

“Why?” you asked coyly.

“Because in every picture, I get to see that mesmerizing look on your face.”

“What look?” you provoked.

“The same look I had on my face when I caught you.”

“And what was that?” you giggled.

“Like you were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

@emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr

[raqnarokr]

Earned It

The gif and images don't belong to me. Credits goes to the respective owners.

Pairing || Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Summary || After a long day of work, Loki decides to surprise you and relax you in the best and sexiest way possible.

Word count || Around 800

Warnings & Contents || 18+ content, minors dni, smut, boyfriend!Loki, rough sex, rough Loki, orgasm, dom x sub dynamic, sucking, rough oral sex, flirting, oral sex, handcuffs, face fucking, fucking, rough kissing, Loki giving presents, dom Loki, pet names (baby, darling), dirty talk, dirty thoughts

Author's note || this is for the first week of @the-slumberparty game. I decided to try and use the three words given: bouquet of flowers, diamond necklace and leather cuffs.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language, so my apologies for any misunderstandings or mistakes.

→ Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

It had been a long day of work. You were exhausted as you drove back home after your work shift ended. You just wanted to have a very relaxing bath, a good meal and cuddling with your boyfriend Loki. He had texted a message right after you were leaving your workplace asking how was your day and if you were on your way home. He is a sweetheart, always caring and worried for you and he is the best boyfriend you could have asked for.

You parked your car and after shutting the door and locking it, you started walking to the door of the house you share with Loki. You open the door, turn the light on, and see a big beautiful bouquet of flowers at the table where you usually put your keys. You open your mouth surprised. It was your favorite flower.

"Do you like them?", you turn to see your boyfriend holding a small box.

“Loki I–, this is wonderful, thank you baby”, you said as you approached him and give a sweet kiss.

“I have another thing for you", he extends you the box he was holding, “Here. I saw this in a store yesterday and I had to buy it for you". You grab the box carefully, and open it to see the most shiny and beautiful diamond necklace you've ever seen. You were amazed.

"Loki you didn't have to–", before you could speak more, he put a finger on your lips to hush you.

“Hush. Don't. You deserve it. You earned it. You always work so hard in every aspect of your life. I just wanna say thank you for everything you do. Especially everything you do for me". He answered by rubbing his thumb slowly on your soft lips. You mumble a "thank you" as Loki puts the necklace around your neck.

"It looks perfect on you darling", he smiled. "Now…you must be tired from work, I will take care of you, ok?" You nodded at his words and before you could say anything, Loki gently grabbed you in his arms. You hold yourself to him as you both go to the bathroom to take a relaxing bath together.

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[alicewonderao3]

Jealousy and Pie

Pairing: Dean Winchester and reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, reader, Sam Winchester

Summary: You, Sam, and Dean are at a local street festival in some small town working a case when you notice Dean flirting with a girl. This shouldn't bother you, but it does even if it's just for information purposes. So when the opportunity strikes to show Dean how you felt, you take it and damn the consequences.

Warnings: none, just fluff and some mild angst, my usual things.

word count: 1,420

Author's note: I had such a hard time with this one, as I started three different versions of this challenge for @the-slumberparty's June challenge. This is the one I'm happy with. My choices were: sundress and festival. I tried to write a version that has Bucky in it, but as usual, Dean decided it needed to be about him again. I might finish and post that one too, I'm not sure yet. I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

There was no reason to be jealous. Dean flirted with girls all the time, I told myself, watching him as he spoke to her. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, gazing up at him and I rolled my eyes, turning away. It was too hot to be working cases anyway, I thought, scanning the street festival for Sam's tall frame. 

I spotted him as he walked over with water for me and I smiled as I took it from him. He stood there with me and watched as Dean kept flirting with her. I frowned again and he nudged me, "It's just for information, you know that." I met his gaze, and my eyes narrowed. "What are you implying, Sam?" 

Sam held his hands up in mock surrender. "I know that look. You're jealous." I kept staring at him through narrowed eyes as Dean walked back up. When the girl came running back, slipping her number into Dean's hand, I turned and stalked away, a frustrated growl slipping through my lips. 

I was still frustrated as we tried to follow that lead the girl gave us, muttering under my breath as I sat in the back of the Impala. When we arrived in a residential neighborhood, and I spotted her seated on a porch, Sam and I both groaned. "Dean," I said, frustration leaking into my tone. "She didn't have any information for us. She was just hitting on you." I let my head fall back on the headrest as Sam groaned too, punching his brother on the shoulder. 

We went back to the street festival and I adjusted the pink sundress I wore as we scanned people, asking around when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to face whoever it was, smiling at his blue eyes, asking about the case in a way that was friendly until I felt eyes watching me. I turned, seeing Dean standing there with Sam, watching us. 

Sam had a large smirk on his face, and he raised an eyebrow as my eyes landed on Dean, who looked murderous as he watched us. Remembering how he made me feel earlier, I turned back to the guy, Brad, I think his name was, and upped my game, laughing and placing a hand on his arm as he spoke to me. 

I brushed my curls back, exposing the side of my neck as he told me more about the mysterious disappearances in the area, and when I reached for the gold necklace Dean had given me for my birthday two weeks ago, gently playing with the chain, I could feel Dean's eyes burning a hole into my head as the boy's eyes darted down to the chain in my hands.

I felt his arm reach out, tugging on my waist and before I knew it, Dean was right there, yanking me away with a murderous look sent in his direction. Brad? Bryan? Had stumbled back and walked away as Dean steered me over to a more private section of the festival. Dean had me backed up against a wall, looming over me as he stared down at me, his green eyes full of jealousy. 

I looked up at him and innocently asked, "What's wrong, Dean? I was just getting information from him." I said, watching as his nostrils flared at my choice of words. Dean stared down at me, his voice rough. "You were doing that on purpose." I continued to give him that innocent look as the music from the band playing at the end of the field drifted around us. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dean." 

He continued to stare down at me, shaking his head. "Uh-huh, I was watching you, I know all the signs of flirting." I chuckled, "Of course you do, you are the expert at that, aren't you?" Dean's eyes narrowed, and I could tell he was getting more frustrated by the second. "Don't try and turn this around on me," He growled, "You knew exactly what you were doing." 

I sighed, feeling a sense of frustration, "Oh, and you weren't doing the same thing with that girl earlier in the day? Flirting with her to make me jealous, Dean?" Dean's expression softened as he stared down at me. "I'm sorry," He said, his eyes meeting mine. I sigh, "We've never actually discussed if we are dating or not, Dean." I say, meeting his gaze. "Are we?" I ask, looking at him. "Do you want to date me? Am I going to be the woman who finally gets Dean Winchester to commit?" 

Dean's eyes met mine, and I could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You already have me making commitments, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and husky. "But to answer your question, yes, I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend."

I felt a surge of happiness wash over me as I heard his words. It was something that I had been hoping for, but I wasn't sure if he felt the same way. "Really?" I said, unable to keep the smile off my face.

Dean nodded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Really," he said. "I know I haven't been the easiest guy to figure out, but I want to make things official with you." I threw my arms around him, feeling a sense of joy and relief wash over me. "Yes," I said, my voice muffled against his chest. "I want that too." 

I felt Dean's hands gently lift my chin, his eyes looking down into mine. He leaned down and kissed me, soft and sweet, his lips gentle on mine. When he pulled away, he said, "I am sorry you know, about before." I nodded, whispering, "Me too." As he pulled away from the kiss, I could see the sincerity in his eyes, and I knew he meant it. The sounds of the street festival went around us, but I only had eyes for Dean. 

Dean smiled at me and I said, "Let's go enjoy this festival before we run off." I said, my eyes meeting his. "I saw a pie stand earlier this morning with Sam." We weaved our way through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds of the street festival. There were food stands, games, and live music playing in the background. It was a lively and festive atmosphere, and I couldn't help but feel happy as I walked alongside Dean.

Dean ordered a slice of apple pie, while I went for the classic cherry. As we sat down at a nearby table, I took a bite of my pie and closed my eyes in bliss. It was everything I had hoped for and more - sweet, tangy, and perfectly baked."This is amazing," I said, looking over at Dean. "You have to try it." Dean took a bite of his pie, and I could see the look of satisfaction on his face. "You're right," he said. "This is good."

As we walked with Sam back to the Impala, ready to make some headway on the case, I glanced over at him as he held my hand in his. "I love you," Dean said, his eyes meeting mine. "I love you too," I said, feeling a sense of happiness and gratitude for the man in front of me.

Sam pretended to gag, but I could see the smile on his face. "Gross, you guys," he said, rolling his eyes. Dean chuckled, but he didn't let go of my hand. "What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart." I smiled up at him, feeling a sense of warmth and affection for him. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," I said.

As we reached the Impala, I climbed into the backseat while Sam took the passenger seat. Dean got behind the wheel, and soon we were on our way, ready to face whatever challenges came our way. With Dean by my side, I knew that we could face anything that came our way. As we pulled up to the motel, I turned to Dean and gave him a quick kiss. "Thank you," I said, my eyes meeting his. "For what?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. "For everything," I said, smiling up at him. "For being there for me, for loving me, for being my partner in crime."Dean grinned at me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Anytime, sweetheart," he said. "Anytime."