#thread ― the sergeant.

[saturnmused]

@maidmyth ― bucky & remilia ― re: shippy starter call.

HIS TONE IS SOLEMN, but the expression on his features is not as heavy as it could be ; brightened by her presence, & reassured by her support. the night terrors that he gets almost daily have once again woken him, but this time, because she's slept over, they wake her too. she takes the time to sit with him, & he finally meets her gaze minutes after she'd woken. his own is apologetic, & the slight smile he gives is more akin to a grimace, but he's trying his best. ❝ thank you for being here with me, ❞ bucky says, but doesn't yet trust himself to reach for her hand, much as he wants to. he doesn't want to push things, when it all still seems so delicate between them. ❝ i usually need a midnight snack after that. d'you care for one too ? ❞ he asks as he moves to rise to feet.

[sergeantsporks]

Sewing machine can't win if I THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW <- actually what every sewing machine wants to drive you to do; they're spiteful and would rather die than help you sew something

[sergeantjessi]

Just discovered that Elon/twitter changed "you retweeted" to "you reposted" and no, no, change it back, no. I did not repost anything, stop it. How about we DON'T normalize the term and function of a "repost", thank you very much

[someotherdog]

♥ : for a loving voicemail

♚ : for a confessing voicemail

☆ : for a drunken voicemail

♦: for an apologetic voicemail

for soapgrid!!!

♥ : ingrid didn't know why she was feeling so warm inside. no reason at all for her to be in a good mood, especially considering how awful things had been for her in recent years, but god damn it, ingrid laura sergeant woke up on the right side of the bed that morning! she thought she'd text soap, but he didn't answer the various messages she sent in a row. decidedly annoying, ingrid took her next step and actually called him, only to have to leave a message. the horror.

"heeey soapie. i know it's not very millennial of me to call you and leave a voicemail, but that's what you get for not answering my texts! i guess i don't really have anything important to say, but i was going to stop by your apartment with some starbucks and a bag of nerds gummy clusters—the berry kind, not the rainbow—but you're a loser that doesn't look at their phone, so you get nothing. just because i'm not some super tough macho military guy doesn't mean you can ignore me, y'know? i might've even splurged and taken you on a trip to target but noooo. i guess i'll have to be your sugar mama, and i mean that literally, some other day. maybe i just wanted to say thank you for letting me hang around after everything, since i'm suuuch a nice person, but you'll never know and fuck it's about to cut me of—"

shit. well, she had been rambling anyway. if that didn't get his attention, she didn't know what would.

♚ : she had her good days. she had her bad days. most of them fell into the bad category, but occasionally there was a bright blip in the darkness. a lot of those blips had to do with soap. he didn't even do much, forever a stoic man that was tall as a mountain, but sometimes it felt like he was a mountain that shielded her from things getting too dark and sometimes she wished that he would kiss her. other times, that thought made her cringe. she thought it might've been called trauma bonding or maybe it was transference, she didn't really know or care, but it felt like he was a mountain or a life raft or just fucking something. something for her to hold onto. her siblings couldn't relate to her since she got back, her parents looked at her as if she was a stranger, and all the friends she had before had moved on in ways ingrid didn't know if she would ever be able to do. it was all so stupid. she knew she shouldn't have been calling him, bothering him once again in the middle of the night. maybe that's why her call went to voicemail. perhaps soap was getting sick of her shit. she was somewhat relieved he didn't pick up.

"hey soap. i know it's very late and i call you too much. i don't really know what i wanted to say so bad that i had to call you again at four in the morning. i guess... i guess that i just wanted to thank you. it feels like my heart is missing sometimes, i don't know if you'll understand what i mean by that. but it feels like i have it back when you pick up the phone or you come get me because i haven't left my apartment in days. sometimes... soap, sometimes it feels like i love you. jesus. that was a crazy thing to say. i'm sorry. i don't know that i actually do, if that helps. yeah. shit, i'm sorry. can you pretend you never heard this? thanks. anyway... goodnight. or good morning. whatever. bye."

yeah, she was definitely relieved he didn't pick up.

☆ : ingrid had never really been a party girl. even in high school, she really only attended parties because she felt like she had to. miss teen dream, the popular nice girl that was friends with everyone and cared about her studies, but not too much or she'd be boring. as an adult, she wasn't a stranger to having a glass of wine at dinner or having a cocktail after work with some coworkers, but she hadn't tossed back shots like a college girl since she was a college girl. on that night out though, after dealing with a tough case that made her want to rip her hair out, ingrid somehow kept drinking with barely any convincing from her friends. somehow, she ended up calling soap from the back of her uber.

"ummmm, hello? soapie. how dare you not answer my call? are the fuckin' queen of england or somethi—what? no, i'm not talking to you, uber driver. i don't even know you. anyway, sooooap! will you ever tell me your fucking real name? i know your parents didn't name you after a cleaning product. i mean, i don't know much about your family or really anything about you at all, meanwhile you know, like, my social security number and how much real, actual money i spent on candy crush last summer? that's not very fair. anyway, i hope your parents didn't name you soap. this uber driver keeps giving me weird looks. i don't think he thinks soap is your true christian name either... i gotta go, i kind of feel like throwing up... anyway, learn to answer your fucking phone!"

♦ : she had been a true, honest to god mess lately. ingrid realized she had been acting erratically, but she couldn't stop herself. knowing that she was pushing people away, people that wanted to help her, made her feel sick inside. it made her feel sick inside that no one could understand why she was acting out. no one but soap. she had fucked that up too, though. soap seemed to still feel some sort of protectiveness over her. she began to resent that supposed obligation. she had spent most of her life feeling protected, the eternal damsel in distress. the love that her loved ones felt for her started to feel like a cage and ingrid finally snapped. she cussed everyone out, drank like a fish, tapped out her savings and maxed out her credit cards. no one understood. they didn't close their eyes and see what she had seen. no one but soap. the only person that could understand, and as far as ingrid knew, never wanted to speak to her again. eventually, the darkness closing all the way in, she had to reach out. even if he didn't care for her anymore.

"errr—sorry. hi. um, i didn't expect to get your voicemail. i get it, though. i wouldn't want to talk to me either. i won't take up too much of your time, if you even listen to this or maybe just delete it immediately after seeing it, but i wanted to say that i'm sorry. for all of it. i've been a terrible person for, like, an entire year now. nobody wants to deal with my bullshit anymore, which i understand, but... i don't know. it still sucks, even if i did it to myself. i think i've been going through the five stages of grief or whatever since we came back, even though no one close to me died. just like... grief over the whole situation. we never should've been out there in the first place. anyway... this is getting too long. i'm sorry, soap. let me know if you'd like to go to a movie or something someday. if not, just know i really do wish the best for you. i hope you're coping with it better than i am. military training and all that. but, um, yeah. bye, soap. thank you for saving my life, though i don't know that i deserved it."

she didn't realize she had been crying until it was over.

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[testvelouriatheme]

dafldsfasd.

[saturnmused]

@solaridust ― bucky & steve ― re: starter call.

SENTIMENTALITY HITS unexpectedly, unfamiliar sensation in the sergeant's emotional repertoire, but not entirely unwelcome. if it ever does happen, it happens with steve, when they're together like this. just the two of them, spending time together in the same space but not necessarily interacting ; the calm quiet between them is relaxing, soothing in ways silence refuses to be with anyone else. it's one of the many things that bucky loves about steve, even after all these years, that steve never fails to be a comfort. ❝ hey, steve ? ❞

bucky speaks up after a moment of thought, fingers curling at the page he's on, dog-earring it in anticipation of conversation. ❝ d'you remember that one winter in '32 where you got really sick, 'nd i mean y'got sicker than you ever have been, when i stayed by your bedside for a whole week ? ❞ it's a harrowing memory, from what bucky can remember, but it reminds him of something important, something that feels just out of reach. ❝ we . . . we got a priest t'see you, 'nd everything. hoping you would be okay, figuring y'probably wouldn't be. ❞

[testvelouriatheme]

* i. persona. / ingrid sergeant. * ii. narrative. / ingrid sergeant. * iii. visage. / ingrid sergeant. * iv. thread. / ingrid & soap. * v. dynamic. / ingrid & soap.

* IDENTITY / ingrid sergeant. * NARRATIVE / ingrid sergeant. * VISAGE: ingrid sergeant. * THREAD: ingrid & soap. * DYNAMIC: ingrid & soap.

* INGRID SERGEANT / identity . * INGRID SERGEANT / narrative . * INGRID SERGEANT / visage . * INGRID SERGEANT / thread / soap . * INGRID SERGEANT / dynamic / theo . * STARTER / open . * WANTED / opposite . * WANTED / plot . * POSSIBE / fc .

[eldritch-spouse]

Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺

[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]

TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.

" Listen to me Breg. "

You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.

" I've been working up to this for a long while- "

" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.

Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.

" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "

His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.

Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "

His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.

" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "

" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "

"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "

When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.

Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.

Some hesitant seconds pass.

" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.

" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.

" Uhuh! "

True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.

" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.

" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "

He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.

" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.

It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.

" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "

One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.

" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "

" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "

You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.

Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.

" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "

Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.

Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.

Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.

Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "

Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "

And that's all it takes.

The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.

" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.

" Does it feel good? " He pants.

" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.

" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "

He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.

" Breg! "

" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "

It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.

When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.

" AH! HN- Breg?! "

You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.

You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.

" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "

That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "

" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "

" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.

" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "

Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.

It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.

When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.

" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "

Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "

Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "

Why are you even surprised...

[aikaterini-drag]

Night of Sensual Delights

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You plan a sweet and romantic Halloween night with your boyfriend, but he has other ideas for enjoying his candy.

Author's note: I hope you enjoy this sweet sinful Halloween delight! 🍭🎃 Show some love if you liked this, in any way you feel comfortable! Hugs and kisses!

Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral(fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, just shameless smut pals.

October was almost over and James and you decided to do something simple this Halloween just to get into the spirit. You had stocked up on all kinds of candies and planned a Halloween movie night with your boyfriend. With only a candle lit up, you snuggled into the couch, with James tucking you in his arms, a soft blanket draped over you. You cradled a bowl of candy in your arms, remote in the other hand and pressed play.

The movie of the night was a classic; The Addams Family.

Bucky hadn’t seen this one and was exited to find more about the films he had missed during his life as the winter soldier. As the movie started playing, you both watched and munched on the snacks. You laughed quietly at his reactions. He appeared unused to that kind of movies. At some point, he tensed up during a spooky scene and clutched you tight.

You grinned. "What’s wrong, oh, big, strong super soldier?"

He chuckled. “The transition was sudden.”

"Don't worry, Sergeant Barnes, I'll protect you from everything."

He took a popcorn from the bowl and tossed it at you. “You are such a teaser.”

“Hey!” You laughed and tossed another piece of popcorn at him. “Watch the movie!”

“You threw popcorn at me.”

“Well, you started it.” You gasped when he gently pinched your ass through you pajama pants. “You are doing it again!”

“What?” He lifted you against him, now both his palms pinching your bum.

“Barnes stop— ouch!”

“Liar,” he tapped your bottom. “I’m barely squeezing.”

You chuckled. “Well stop teasing my ass and watch the movie.”

“I’d rather watch you”, he drawled, his deep blue eyes gazing at you.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You are such a flirt.”

“Only with you.”

“Shut up, and have some chocolate,” you said sweetly, pressing a the sweet piece to his mouth.

He consumed it and in a sudden move, he flipped you over, your back colliding with the couch, him pressing between your legs. “I’d rather have something even sweeter.”

You gasped at the feel of him against your core. “What is it you want exactly?”

He caught your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. “Want to have you for Halloween. Want my sweet girl and her pretty little pussy. Will you give it to me, sweets?”

“Hmm… as if you have to ask…” you said in between wet kisses. “More, please… James…”

“I know baby, I’ve got you.”

And with that, he worked on removing your clothes, tugging at the Halloween pajamas, dragging at your underwear till there was nothing left but your smooth skin exposed to his eyes. He grasped your knees and steered them wide apart, leaning down to enjoy the view. Creamy thighs, and in between was the most pretty, pink puffy cunt begging for attention.

He licked his lips and with a low growl, he descended upon your mound, his teeth nibbling at the fat pussy lips before flicking his tongue around your clit. You threw your head back and threaded your hands through his hair, grinding your pussy against his face. He moaned his approval and thrust two warm fingers inside you, while teasing your clit with the metal one.

A few more thrusts and you keened, shook, and came apart with long-drawn moans. He didn’t stop teasing you, he fucked you with his fingers, moving up to devour your nipples, causing a series of less intense orgasms to rock through you. With a victorious grin, he left one last kiss on your pussy lips and cupped your face.

“My pretty pussy has the sweetest taste. Better than any candy.”

He claimed your mouth and you moaned at the taste of your essence on his tongue. Your hands traveled along his strong body, caressing his broad shoulders before traveling low to slip down his pants along with his boxers. He cooperated and tossed everything off and pressed his hot, raging hard body against you.

Pinning your hands above your head, he grabbed his fat cock and tapped it on your pussy lips. You watched as he rubbed the pulsing shaft until it coated in your juices, teasing you by thrusting the cockhead inside your little slit before drawing back. With a whine, you canted your hips, begging him in a series of whines and murmurs.

Cupping under your knees, he spread your legs and thrust forward, watching as you small slit was forced open by his dick. You both moaned at the sensations and once he was seated to the hilt you needed a few moments to adjust to the invasion. You always did. He was so big and thick, yet you both fit perfectly together.

After a few seconds, he puked back, his dick flushing with your arousal and slammed back in. You saw stars. He slowly did it again, his eyes fixed on your pretty cunt. He drew back till all his length was out, the pushed in, his swollen balls squeezed against your ass.

And then he pounded inside you, claiming your very soul.

Clutching your waist, he went faster, his mouth devouring your nipples while you clung to his shoulders for dear life and floated higher and higher. You shut your eyes tightly and came undone, your walls clenching hard around him. He followed almost immediately, delving to the hilt and shooting ropes of cum inside you. You felt his release, every pump that flooded your pussy and overflowed, dripping down your thighs.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he set you to lay on your side, cuddling you from behind, his still hard cock lodged deep within you. He kissed your lips and swallowed back your moans of pleasure, sucking your nipples and cupping your breasts in his hands. You relaxed into him, your body full and spent.

“We should watch the rest of the movie now,” he said in an absolutely serious tone.

You half-laughed. “We missed most of it.”

He kissed your head with a grin. “Are you complaining?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I think I’m gonna love celebrating Halloween.”

Grinning, you looked at him. “When did you turn into such a sex monster?”

“When you started making me feel alive again. You did that, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead and added, “Now watch the movie while I enjoy my Halloween treats.”

“What—” you didn’t manage to let out another word and moaned instead when he leaned down to kiss around your flushed breasts.

“James—”

“The movie, darling,” he said and gently thrust his cock, reminding you that he remained rock hard inside you.

“One day, your stamina will be the end of me,” you groaned as he moved against you, his hands, mouth and delicious length of him inside you teasing you to another orgasm. He ended up fucking you until the credits rolled and you had no strength to do anything else but melt sweetly into his arms and enjoy his ministrations.

[saturnmused]

other's thumb brushes over bucky's bottom lip, and it takes every ounce of restraint that the sergeant has not to take partner's finger in mouth. he manages without doing so, but just barely, lips puckering underneath other's delicate touch. the compliment is cute, a little touching to boot, and means a lot coming from steve. bucky smiles then, slow and sure, expression somewhat matching lover's. ❝ you know exactly how t'flatter a guy, rogers. you should be careful with that kind of power, ❞ he teases, sarcastic tone with an edge of playfulness. the praise is criminal, however, with the way that it makes heat flush straight through bucky. cheeks flush and bashful, almost shy smile comes to lips, aided by the look that steve gives him. ❝ with thanks to you, y'know. you make it . . . as easy as possible, to call this place home. to settle down. ❞ he leans forehead against the blond's for a fleeting moment, eyes briefly closing in a show of utter trust.

a soft hum leaves the super soldier as he watches how his own thumb brushes over bucky's lower lip. ❛   any look. but the gray sweatpants &* man-bun are so twenty-first-century. it looks good. looks like you're starting to make it feel like home. ❜ an easy going , lazy smile curves the blonde's lips as his gaze flickers up towards the others. he gently hooks his pointer finger under bucky's chin before drawing him closer so that he can peck his lips. ❛ my sweet , pretty boy. finally adjusting ? ❜ so affectionate when he's just woken up ------ a trademark of the ex-soldier.

[vanessaedp]

141 + König reacting to you taking off your mask.

taking off ur bally 😜😜✌️✌️😗😗🫶🫶

warnings: fluff, british slang 😛

FLASHING GIF WARNING

___

Price

He had known the reason why you wore a balaclava and if he's honest. He hadn't ever expected you to take it off.

That was until today.

It was a simple mission really, do some fancy dress up party and poison the target.

However, to get into the party you need to have a partner

So, you and Price partnered up and went to the party as a fake couple. You wore a simple red dress and he wore a tuxedo.

The day before the mission he approached you. "Planning to paint your mask to match the dress, Sergeant?" He joked.

"No sir." You shake your head. "Actually, I wasn't going to wear it at all but now that you say that I might have another idea." You scoff at Price's dissapointed expression.

On the day of the mission you and Price are sat in a vehicle, he's running through the mission with you and take your mask off.

His look alone sent shivers down your spine. You expected him to look at you with horror or disgust but to your suprise he looked at you with admiration.

"Bloody hell, your beautiful, sarge." He said, his voice raspy and his throat dry.

"Don't get too excited, captain." You laugh.

Ghost

You and Ghost had some things in common.

You both were traumatised at a young age and you both wore masks.

He cared for you somewhat. Like how he cared for Soap

Except he liked you more.

During this mission it hadn't gone well. You had a bullet graze the side of your head and now you were splayed across the concrete floor with Ghost surrounded by mangled metal.

"Wheres the bleeding?" Ghost checked everywhere.

"My head." You mutter, turning your head to show a dark patch on your mask.

"May I?" Ghost's fingers hooked under your mask as if he was going to rip it off anyway.

You furrow your brows and roll your eyes. "It's not like I have a bloody choice, i'm bleeding to death you tosser."

Ghost grumbles something under his breath before peeling the mask off and placing it beside your head.

You swear you see his eyes widen the teeny tiniest bit. His eyes trail down your face for a split second before setting on your bleeding skull. "Right.." He says with a sigh, his voice hoarse.

"Enjoying the view?" You scoff, wincing when he starts treating your wound.

"You wish." He mumbles, his gaze flickering down to your face and lingering there for a few seconds.

Soap

You and Soap had been dating for 3 years. Not once have you taken your mask off.

He doesn't mind but all he wants is for you to trust him.

Soap allowed to stay off while you were recovering from a near-death experience. His left arm was hanging on by a thread after being abushed in a mission. He survived and is now on drugs so he can handle the pain.

You visited after his deployment to see how he was. He acted like a drunk man when he saw you, probably from the drugs.

"Who the feck are you..?" He slurred, his head lolling to one side. "My girlfriend won't be happy to see this.." He mutters.

You giggle and take a seat beside his bed. "I am your girlfriend, Johnny." You look down at his leg. It's stitched neatly. You grimace for a moment. You can handle all the gore in the world but your boyfriends? Now thats a different story.

You hear his heartbeat monitor pick up. "You wha?" He asks, his voice higher pitched and his brows raised.

"I'm your girlfriend." You slowly place a hand on his face.

"Fucking hell." He mutters, his eyes wide. "Are you sure? I'm abit of a twat." He shuffles, trying to sit up however you place a hand on his chest and push him back down.

"If I wasn't your girlfriend would I do this?" You hesitantly lift your mask up and lean close, kissing his cheek. You do this because he'll probably forget about it but its precious to see his reaction anyway.

"Fuck me sideways." He says under his breath, looking at you with admiration. His eyes stare at your eyes then the little scar on your left eyebrow. Then the burn scar shaped like a cross. Presumably from a branding iron. He then stared at your lips. He licked his then spoke.

"Can you do that again? But on my lips this time."

Gaz

"Listen i'm so sorry.. I don't even know how this happened I swear i'll fix it." Gaz protested. He accidentally ripped your mask while in a sparring match, thankfully you covered your face before anyone else saw.

"Gaz, it's fine." You say a little sarcastically. Sure, you were pissed he had ripped your only mask but he offered to fix it so there wasn't much point in being annoyed with him. "I want it fixed by tomorrow."

"Of course. I promise it'll be fixed." He even pinky swore on it.

After a long 12 hours of being in your room without letting anyone in with fear that they will see you without your mask you hear a knock at the door. "Gaz?"

"I've got your mask. Can I come in." He asks, twisting the door knob.

"Alright.." You mumble and sit up. Watching the door open and Gaz step in, he shuts it behind him and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you.

"Christ." He swallows hard. "You don't really need this mask, do you? It's only a silly balaclava." He waves it around.

"Kyle give it here." You hold your hand out and Gaz sighs, walking up to you and handing it over. He visibly tenses up when your hand brushes against his.

"So does that mean you'll wear it less around me?" He sounds excited, his eyes fixed on your face as you slipped the mask back on.

"Don't get your hopes up, mate. Thanks for fixing it though." You stand up and give him a wink, hitting his shoulder playfully.

König

"Jesus christ how do you wear your hood for so long." You sigh, blowing raspberries through your lips and lifting the bottom of your mask up to let some air through.

It was a heatwave at the base and you were MELTING

"Mine's baggy. More airflow." König stared down at you, his arms folded across his chest. "Why don't you take it off?"

"Fuck off you manky wank-stain." You laugh, shaking your head. "Bloody hell." You whine, the heat irritating you.

"I have a spare hood if you want it, liebe." He offered. "Come." He gestures for you to follow him and you do. He takes you to his room and he rumages through his drawer, tossing you a shirt with two holes in it.

"The bloody hell is this?" You giggle, looking at the massive shirt. "Your a size.. XXL?" You look at the tag.

"Just put the shirt on, selbstgefällig." He rolls his eyes which widen when he sees you take your mask off. It was truly a beautiful sight. Your cheeks pink and flushed from the heat, some strands of hair stick to your forehead. It was all interrupted when you slipped the shirt over your head.

"Schatz.." He mumbles. "Your very pretty, you know. You don't need it." He holds his head low.

"Thank you, König thats very kind of you." You smile under the shirt and adjust it. "Thanks for the hood aswell." You step forward and cup where you think his face is from under the mask. "I'll wear this more often."

You leave the room, leaving König flustered, flabbergasted and head over heels in love.

___

here u go pookies come here and kiss me

[shmalk]

OKAY IM CURRENTLY WRITING THIS SO DON'T EVEN WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEADS <3

afab!reader x poly?141

bartender!reader who maybe works at the pub, or runs it, or maybe second in command, whose tall and lanky, and kind of clumsy but still the best rollerskater around (maybe the bar makes its employees use skates, maybe not)

and then the first person to meet reader is ghost, whose instantly obsessed, and you're not sure how, but eventually you're finding yourself stuck under him while he plows into you, hands tangled in your hair as he pulls you back just to fuck more of his cum into your poor, spent cunt-

next is probably roach, such a poor boy, and he's so touch starved that you can't help but tug him into your office, settling on your knees infront of him to take him into your mouth until he has tears in the corner of his eyes and his hands are practically ripping threads of your hair out as he begs in overstimulation please, god, fuck, please - i can't - i need to - wanna cum so bad f'you-

soap doesn't even bother trying to be slick about it, walking in when the bar isnt even opened just to tell you that he knows what youve been doing with the lieutenant and his sergeant, how he's going to tell everyone unless you bend him over the bar - just like that - plowing your hips against his as your strap reaches every goey spot that makes his legs shake and his eyes roll into the back of his head-

and gaz! such a sweet boy who offers to help when he sees you lugging kegs around, so you hand him one, and show him the way to the cellar until he's on his knees, you bent over one of the empty kegs and his face pressed between your folds, his tongue coated in you and your sticky sweetness, desperate to swallow everything you can give him.

john price is different, he's the one you have to look out for, coming in with his boys after a mission - you've not seen any of them for a few weeks and you're worried they've up and left you - when all five of them come in, the boys just wanting to show off their pretty little bartender whose so sweet and soft-

it's not long until he has you bouncing in his lap, despite being taller than him, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other holding a cigar. he doesn't care if the bar is crowded and anyone could turn around and see him tear a hole through the crotch of your jeans, if they could see him line himself up at your entrance, maybe shoving two fingers down your throat as he bounces you up and down.

I AM !!! RAVENNOUS !!! FOR THIS !>!>!>!>

[someotherdog]

she jumped back the moment his eyes snapped open, but not by much. “soap!” she cried, her voice instantly going from sorrowful and mournful to relieved and grateful. he wasn’t dead! he was near death, but he wasn’t dead. she had saved him. thank you, jesus, god, allah, zeus, thor, flying spaghetti monster, whoever the fuck was out there and listening to her teary, frenzied praying. his hand—the one he had left��grabbed her arm and she let out a keening sound without realizing. it felt like all the air squeezed out her lungs with just one touch of his hand, but she regained it all seconds later when he released his hold.

he released her, just to try and get up. her hands flew up to his shoulders, trying to hold him down. “soap—” honey was just about to be tacked on, but she caught herself. there was no time for terms of endearment, and she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the affection. “wait, stop!” she implored, uselessly trying to push him back down. she’d have better luck knocking over a brick wall with her bare hands. like before, he ignored her and tried to get up again, successfully this time. did he have nothing to say about his fucking arm being blown off? she would never understand that soldier’s mentality, how he just pushed on without dwelling on a single thing. it was baffling to her, a woman that spent most of her life reacting.

ingrid was still on the floor as the men discussed the next situation at hand. her face screwed up as gonzales stated he had dibs on one of the pods. soap threw her a look. her stomach turned. no. he didn’t even have to say it to know he was thinking it, her expression darkening as she stared at the two of them. there was no fucking way in hell she’d been through all of that with soap, just to leave him behind. didn’t he care that she dragged his ass out of an inferno after gonzales tried to stop her? didn’t he care that she needed him? did he care about her at all?

the tight smile he gave her, if it could even be classified as one, did nothing to relax her. in fact, it soured her stomach. he really meant it. he wanted to be left behind to die. how sick! the one bit of affection she received from him was the rictus he was going to wear when he fucking died, probably torn to shreds by one of those creatures or perhaps a self-inflicted gunshot wound. it was unfair. it was stupid. there had to be another way.

even as there were more bangs against the door, mere feet from her, she stayed on the ground and craned her neck to keep her angry stare on soap. it did little to deter him as the escape pods opened with a susurration behind her. soap crossed the short distance between them and lifted her off the ground like a wayward puppy picked up by their scruff. she let out a shallow yell of protest, hanging in the air for a few seconds before he placed her in the pod.

you have to go.

yes, she did. ingrid didn’t plan on staying on the ship, minutes from freedom. she just wanted soap to come along. she didn’t want to die with him, but she didn’t want to live without him, either. there had to be another way, god damn it!

“oh, screw your fucking nobility!” ingrid screamed, full of rage. she saved him just to be shoved off into space without him? in what universe did that make sense? she was being repaid poorly for saving his ass, and it just made her angrier. “don’t just fucking give up, you fucking piece of shit!” she felt like slapping soap, but there wouldn’t be a point. she was shouting into the wind. the decision had been made. “there has to be something we’re missing.“

she knew they were short on time. the banging outside the escape bay was only growing more intense, not slowing down. any creature that missed the first act was coming around for the encore. ingrid strong-armed her way out of the pod and ran towards the other side of the room, where some computer interfaces and panels were embedded into the wall. on one of the screens, she saw a camera feed that showed the hall outside. it was nearly wall-to-wall with those things. fuck.

ingrid was just delaying the inevitable, she knew that. however, that didn’t stop her. over her shoulder, she kept yelling at soap as she opened up drawers and knocked items to the ground, “i don’t fucking care, you’re not staying on this ship and that’s IT, soap! god damn it!” there was a box on the wall above her head, but she couldn’t reach it. that didn’t stop her from trying, straining on her tiptoes, her hand outstretched. her fingers only grazed it. she hadn’t stopped sobbing since they saved soap, chest heaving and tears streaming down her face.

By some divine intervention, Soap's eyes jolted open. His pupils were dilated. Somehow, breathing didn't feel natural. Air felt like smoke filling his lungs and his nose stung with every inhalation. It shot pain through the bridge of his nose and in his tear ducts. Still, he gasped for air, wildly looking around, grabbing for anything he could for a sense of where he was and what was going on. He thought he died.

A millisecond later, he realized he'd grabbed Ingrid's forearm. She was bent over him, this terrified look on her wet face. His shirt felt damp with her tears and snot. Gonzales was over her shoulder, finagling with an operating system linked to two escape pods attached to the wall. Then, all at once, it hit him: Where he was, and what was going on. Holy fuck, they made it. But there was no time to celebrate, hardly any time to feel relieved. Any remaining creatures growled weakly on the other side of the escape chamber door, still in relentless pursuit even after the explosion. And he was sure that, if there were any monsters still left on board who weren't in that corridor, he'd just alerted them all with the pellet bombs. Like ringing the dinner bell.

No time to waste.

Soap shot up, placing his palms on the ground as leverage to pull himself up—wait.

He swallowed.

Where his right arm was supposed to be, there was nothing. Just a singed end at the end of his bicep, covered just barely by the tattered sleeve of his t-shirt. Only the top sliver of his rose tattoo was left. He wanted to scream, but couldn't find the sound. Between the beeping from the operating system and the monstrous growls outside and Ingrid's sobbing right up to his face, he couldn't focus. Everything made up one nightmarish voice.

He pushed himself up once again, this time putting more weight on his left hand, and brushed past Ingrid. No time to waste.

"You're up," Gonzales quipped breathlessly, hunched over the operating system. "The emergency code they gave us doesn't work. It was never supposed to work. No one was ever supposed to escape." He typed hurriedly, trying to break the system, activate some sort of failsafe. "Anyway, we've got another problem. There's only two. And I've got dibs on one..."

Soap glanced over. The escape pods looked like metal coffins and had a small rectangular panel of glass near the face. Unopened, he could see parts of the pod through it: a breathing tube, oxygen mask, not much else. It was fit for one adult, with space for maybe a child. Even if two people could fit in the pod, that wouldn't solve the problem that they'd be shooting into the ether for God knows how long and only had enough oxygen for one person's voyage.

A sudden, but slow banging at the door snatched Soap's attention. It sounded like only one creature was outside so far. No doubt, though, others would follow.

His eyes darted to Ingrid, and by the look on his face, he hoped she knew what he was thinking. If there's only two, she had to be in one of them. No questions asked, no protests. And Soap didn't care whether Ingrid was kicking and screaming at him, he would get her to do what he wanted.

After all of this, with his life on the line and one arm gone, he was still bent on finishing his mission. Whatever it meant at this point. Before all of this, he hadn't had much left anyway. His army buddies were all dead and gone and whoever was left alive in his family didn't give a damn about him. Soap was all there was that was left, and it made sense, he thought, for him to die on this ship. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that it was all supposed to unfold this way, anyway. One way or another, he was going to die, and for some reason, life thought it appropriate to make him the last one alive. Maybe watching everyone die was supposed to teach him something important, but the revelation never came. And it never would.

Just one escape pod left. He shared one final look with Ingrid, almost like the one they'd had before they left the infirmary—but this one felt different. More final. Because he thought it'd make her feel better, he smiled. It wasn't a big smile by any means, and it could hardly be classified as a smile, but after all this time maybe Ingrid would come to appreciate it and knew exactly what it was—the way his tired mouth thinned ever so slightly and a stunted sigh left his nose.

If things went according to plan, she would go back home and tell everyone what happened. Bring some justice to every innocent person who'd died on the ship and shine light on a new alien life force that could potentially be dangerous if it ever found earth. In his head he imagined her hunched over a petri dish, watching the mutation happen to a cluster of cells just like it happened to all the passengers on this ship. And she'd be sure that nothing like this ever happened again.

But even if things didn't go according to plan or didn't have that credits-roll finish, all he'd wish for for Ingrid was her to live peacefully.

That was it. This was it.

A second later it sounded like more than one creature was banging at the door now. Their mutated and mangled faces slobbered all over the glass panel on the escape chamber door. At the same time, Soap heard a beeping—and the pair of escape pods hissed open.

"Fuck yes!" Gonzales cheered, taking off all of his gear and getting ready to board one of the pods.

Soap reached for Ingrid, intent on grabbing her and shoving her in the pod. With only one arm, she had more space to fight back, but he managed to lift her by the shirt into the pod. Her feet lined up with the markings on the ground. Two feet, for one person. He took the oxygen mask and shoved it against her chest.

There was no thank you. No goodbye. Just, "you have to go."

He turned to walk over to the operating system, big bright letters on the screen reading READY.

[saturnmused]

@learnedlucidity // bucky & fi // starter call.

❝ i love you too, you know. ❞ it's the first time he's saying so, though he's felt this way for some time now. bucky knows how much it must mean to her, for it means a lot to him, to feel safe and secure enough to voice how he truly feels for her. she allows it with her constant understanding and patience that she has with him, a core component of their relationship. he steps close, into her personal space, and reaches out to rub flesh thumb over the curve of her cheekbone. ❝ i'm sorry it's taken me this long t'say so. i love you . . . more than i can say. ❞

[cult0fdionysus]

Comfortable

Ghost x Reader

Cw: overall fluff, my writing

Summary: you find out ghost can be quite comfortable

A/n: little drabble

Book open on your lap as you chew at your nails, eyes fluttering over the pages. It's late in the 141's common room, the only light being a small lap to the left of the couch you are seated on. Being on your own like this is peaceful, it's nice and quiet no thrum of people in the halls, or slamming doors. Just you and your book.

The couch dips and you jump a little. A familiar figure is sitting next to you, hes clad in his usual balaclava and sleepwear.

"Shit, you scared me." You say a little out of breath from the scare.

"You should be paying attention to your surroundings then sergeant." Ghost states in a gruff tone. Eyes softening a moment later as he looks you over, you're wearing a tank top, and sleep shorts. "You look comfy," he adds. Then pullin the blanket —you added to the back of the couch— and throwing it over your ahoulders.

"Thank you," you say in a whisper, your body leaning towards his. Taking that as an invitation he puts your book down—with the book mark in it— and pulls you to lay on top of him.

Hes done this before, usually at night when you spend time reading in the common room. You always notice how he seems to sleep more soundly with you in his arms.

You sigh into him, threading your arms around his waist and he pulls you impossibly closer.

"You're so comfortable." You say smooshed against his chest. He lets out a chuckle and starts rubbing your back, soon lulling you to sleep.