#Lloyd Winters

[guy60660]

Alexandra Palace | © Lloyd Winters | Financial Times

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Bosses AU

The Devil Wears Armani | Tony Stark

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Office Space | Nick Fowler & Jonathan Pine

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Monster, Inc. | Lloyd Hansen

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Code of Conduct | Steve Rogers

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Backburner | Sam Wilson

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Paradigm Shift | Bucky Barnes & Loki

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

Unorthodox | Captain Syverson

1 💼 2 💼 3 💼 4 💼 5

[steve-kemp]

All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood. — Rainer Maria Rilke

[deliciousangelfestival]

"Darling, bad luck seems endless." - Bucky Barnes - 2

Summary: You've always been haunted by bad luck your entire life, despising it deeply, until you meet someone who finds it amusing.

Character: softdark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 .

Author's Note: Hello, everyone; this story is for thesleepover eventhosted by @the-slumberparty. What I chose is a strawberry sundae with gummy bears as the topping.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Bucky didn’t trust you yet. To test if what you said about your lousy luck was true, he sent you to his competitor, Damien, a mafia boss who owed money to Bucky.

Damien spent most of his time at a museum. Bucky gave you an order, “And I want to see if what you said is true.”

You didn’t thoroughly dislike the idea because, as an artist, you enjoyed going to museums. The museum was a grand, historical building with high ceilings and intricate architecture. Walking through the halls filled with timeless masterpieces, you felt a sense of calm despite the task at hand.

As you wandered, you spotted Damien. He was exactly as Bucky had described: an older man, about the same age as Sir Galileo, with an air of authority and a sharp gaze. You stood at a respectful distance, admiring the same painting he was fixated on—"Portrait of Madame X."

Noticing your interest, Damien turned to you. “A fine piece, isn’t it?” he said, his voice rich and cultured. “John Singer Sargent’s ‘Portrait of Madame X’. It caused quite a scandal when it was first exhibited.”

You listened intently as he explained the history and significance of the painting. His passion for art was evident, and you found yourself genuinely engaged in the conversation.

Suddenly, your phone rang. It was Bucky. “Where’s the bad luck? I see you talking to him without anything happening,” he demanded.

“Uhm…” You hesitated. You never knew when bad luck would strike.

Just then, a scream pierced the air. “Kyaa!”

You turned to see another visitor pointing in horror. The painting you had been admiring had fallen off the wall, landing dangerously close to Damien. You were too stunned to speak.

“No kidding,” Bucky muttered through the phone, equally shocked. It seemed impossible for a securely hung painting to suddenly fall in a museum. He was beginning to believe your curse might be real.

For the second test, Bucky sent you to a café. “Just choose a table and sit near my other competitor, Ivan. It’s an easy task,” he instructed.

You entered the cozy café, its atmosphere warm and inviting with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. You found a table near Ivan and started sketching another jewelry design for Bucky.

Ivan, seated nearby, glanced over and noticed your drawing. “That’s quite impressive,” he remarked, leaning in slightly.

“Thank you,” you replied, offering a polite smile.

“What inspires your designs?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Before you could answer, a waitress tripped and spilled a hot cup of coffee right onto Ivan’s thigh. He yelped in pain and surprise, the conversation abruptly ending.

Bucky, watching everything unfold on a screen, was astounded. “You really do bring bad luck.”

“...” You remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“But I’m getting all the advantages,” Bucky continued with a sly grin. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved that Bucky was starting to believe you.

The last incident that convinced Bucky was when he brought you to a ball party hosted by another gangster whom Bucky despised, who was there to show off his wealth.

The host planned to reveal a rare diamond during the party, but it was stolen. This was unexpected and seemingly impossible due to the high level of security. While everyone else panicked, Bucky remained calm. He looked at you and said, "You’re my lucky charm."

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

All these experiences made your once dull life exciting. You started to appreciate the bad luck you had. You realized that working with Sir Galileo was the longest job you had ever held.

One day, you asked him if he had ever faced misfortune. Surprisingly, he said, “I did. My former driver got into an accident, and the electricity short-circuited on the first day you worked here.”

You were shocked and felt guilty. “It must be because of me.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s nothing. I’ve lived a long time and faced a lot of things, especially working with gangsters and mafia. I just keep on living.”

‘Just keep on living.’ He’s right. Even with bad luck, you continued living. Life always punched you to the ground, but you got back up again.

Slowly, you started liking your bad luck. You experienced exciting events, even assisting Bucky in getting rid of his rival businesses.

But then you noticed that your bad luck didn’t happen as often. In fact, you started getting lucky.

You found $100 on the street one day, got a free coffee when the barista mistakenly made an extra, and even won a small prize in a local raffle. It felt like life was turning around.

Curious, you revisited the same paranormal. She said, “Bad luck left after you started liking it.”

“How?” you asked, bewildered.

“It’s complicated,” she replied with a knowing smile.

You still couldn’t believe it. You remembered the saying, “Fall in love with your problems, and maybe they will leave you too.”

Damn. Even bad luck left you.

If there was no bad luck, how could you help Bucky?

Since then, you stopped meeting Bucky, leaving him wondering. Days turned into weeks, and Bucky felt your absence deeply. Determined, he went to find you.

“Do you think I only wanted you because of your bad luck?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Didn’t you?” you replied, your heart pounding.

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I said before, you’re the only woman who’s willing to risk her life for me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you as he spoke. "Bucky, I—"

He interrupted, "It's not just your bad luck. It's you. You're brave, resilient, and you’ve changed my life in ways I never expected. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that took your breath away. "I never thought I'd hear you say that," you said softly.

"I mean it," he replied, taking your hand in his. "You bring something into my life that no one else ever has. Bad luck or not, I want you with me."

For a moment, you hesitated, memories of your past misfortunes flashing through your mind. But then you realized that with Bucky, you had faced and overcome those challenges together. And now, without the constant shadow of bad luck, you felt a new kind of strength.

"You really mean it?" you asked, needing to be sure.

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I do. We make a great team. And I want us to continue, no matter what comes our way."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and joy wash over you. "Alright, Bucky. Let's face the future together."

With that, he pulled you into a tender embrace, holding you close. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

You looked up at him, your heart full. "Thank you for believing in me."

From that moment on, your life with Bucky was filled with new adventures, challenges, love, and support. Together, you faced whatever came your way, more vital than ever. And you knew that, no matter what, you would always have each other.

-the end-

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@buckysdoll85

@lokislady82

[elvendeity]

"I'm only asking for strength for my days. Teach me the art of small steps."

1 @soracities || 2, 3 shanna van maurik || 4 winter of artifice by anaïs nin || 5 hermann hesse, in an excerpt from hermann hesse on little joys, breaking the trance of busyness, and the most important habit for living with presence, the marginalian || 6 café terrace at night (place du forum, arles), Vincent van Gogh || 7 oamul lu || 8 leaves, lloyd Schwartz || 8 tony kushner, angels in america || 10 dead poets society || 11 a prayer, antoine de saint-exupéry 

reading lists and more

[lloydfrontera]

lloyd 'survived on one meal per day for years' frontera would absolutely see sharing food as a love language and javier 'lived in the streets for months as a child' asrahan would be fluent in it

i do believe there is a point in their lives where they both heal from the trauma of going through severe food insecurity but neither of them ever quite really forget just how important food can be. and when the other shares their food with them, they appreciate it as the show of affection it was meant to be

[wukpng]

??freak

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen, and August Walker

Note: Welcome back yall

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

Steve lets out a long breath and shuts the book. He lays it on the bath desk and nods. You stay where you, mashing your palms together by the door, longing to run away.  

“Take this away,” he demands curtly without looking at you. 

“Yes, sir,” you trip forward and clack your heels on the tile before you can steady yourself. 

You remove the empty glass, streaked with moisture, and put it on the counter. Then you lift the lap desk, balancing the book atop it, and rest it further back on the marble. The water shifts noisily behind you and reluctantly, you face him again. 

“I prefer the sage and peppermint soap,” he says as he leans back against the side of the tub, his head tilted back with a sigh, “ugh, long day...” 

You let his words hang. Is he mocking you? Yes. This is all at your expense. 

You near the tub again and look at the bath shelf. There’s several bottles that weren’t there before. You bend to reach over him as he waits expectantly. You take the black silicon body scrubber along with the sage soap and stand straight. You squeeze out a dollop onto the soft bristles and dare to look down on Steve. 

Oh. You try not to see, only try to do what he wants. You set the soap aside and dip the scrubber into the water then lather. You grip the edge of the tub as you lean over him. Your hand shakes as you reach to touch his broad chest. The tension eases as you drag across his firm muscle. 

He’s watching you. You feel his gaze and are caught glancing up by his crystal blue eyes. You blanch and he smirks. 

“When you use that toy, do you think of me?” He growls. 

You flinch but don’t recoil. You look down as you focus on washing his chest and shoulders. You swallow and bite down on your humiliation.  

“Honey, I know you’re not blind. Neither am I. You’re a gorgeous girl and well, look at me...” he purrs and brings his hand above the surface to tickle your other hand. “You wanna play with that toy tonight? Want someone to play with?” 

You quiver and dip your hand in the water again. He snickers and sits up, bracing the sides of the tub, and stands. The water slakes off of his thick form. 

“Why am I asking?” He faces you, “you’ll do whatever I want, honey.” He stands before you staunchly, “continue.” 

You continue to wash him. You push the suds down his stomach and he sucks it in as his muscles contract. You gets his sides then his back as he turns. The lower you get, the less diligent you are.  

When he faces you again, he catches your hand, and you let out a squeak. He’s hard. He slips the scrubber from your hand and replaces it with a cloth. He closes your grasp around his rigid length. 

“Gotta get it all,” he purrs. 

You tremble and he pumps your hand once, up, then down. 

“Be thorough, honey.” 

You stare at the lines of his torso, just above your hand. You move mechanically, stroking him firmly, gripping tighter just to keep from disassembling. He chuffs and shakes, grunting through his nose as he latches onto your chest. 

“Little more,” he grits between his teeth. 

You close your eyes and keep the motion. This is disgusting. He’s disgusting. And you have no choice. As he squeezes your tit, kneading it, you can only think of that woman in her smeared make up. Is she still around or are you merely a replacement? 

“Ah, god,” he spasms and warmth spurts up your forearm and down the washcloth’s edge. You open your eyes with immediate regret. His cum strings in glistening ribbons, the smell cutting through the scent of sage. “Mmm,” he fondles you a little more before he pulls away, “bad girls make messes, good girls clean them up.” 

You open your hand and let go of him. Before you can use it to wipe clean your arm, he snatches it. He holds it above you, dripping onto the tile in front of you. 

“No,” he sneers “not like that.” 

You frown in confusion. 

“Clean it up,” he repeats with punctuation and taps your mouth with his thick finger. 

His meaning sinks into your stomach and churns. You shudder and lift your arm. Your lip curls as you bring it up and poke out your tongue. The taste nearly makes your wretch. Your body racks as you make yourself lick up his cup. 

He hums as he watches you, “such a good girl, keeping me clean.” 

Your eyes sting with tears as your stomach and chest contract. You’re repulsed by yourself as much as him. How fucking weak are you just going along with it. What else can you do? The flashes of the woman’s pretty face streaked with tears and fear keep you from letting out the surge of self-hatred and rage. 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper. 

“Finish.” He demands. 

You swallow down the order and the taste of him. Humiliation roils around you, adding to the heat fed into the air by the bath water. He takes the washcloth and tosses it, returning the scrubber to your hand. You continue on the task, pretending as if you were merely washing a counter or a tabletop. 

When at last he’s content, he lowers himself back into the water. You cling to the scrubbie, unsure. He growls. You go rigid. 

“Hair.” 

The order is clear. You put the soap back on the shelf, trading it for shampoo in a similar scent. You use the small plastic jug to wet his hair, using your hand to block the pour from his face. You lather, scrubbing his scalp, the act made awkward as your thoughts race. You’ve never had to wash another person’s hair.  

His groans taint the innocent deed as he leans his head back. You try not to show your uncertainty. Your bottom continues to pulse each time you think of resisting. You can even recall exactly how the table felt against you with each heartless strike. 

You rinse out the soap, dragging your fingers through his hair, pouring until the water is clear and free of bubbles. You set the thing back as you found them and Steve stretches his neck with a choked grunt. He Pushes himself to his feet again, careless of the water that drips onto the floor. 

He steps over the edge and you back up. You search and grab the towel. The little things are your last attempt at appeasing him. You might just make it through the night. Does it matter? What about tomorrow? 

You dry him off as he drips onto the bath mat and around it. He lets you, bending for you to get his hair. Even naked, his size and strength is stark against your own. You don’t miss the twitching lower down either. 

“Did you lay my pajamas out for me?” He asks. 

You cringe. Of course, you’re missing something. You let him claim the towel as he wraps it around his waist.  

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t have the chance--” 

“Go, do it,” he commands. 

“Yes, sir.” 

You are happy enough to get some space. As demeaning as his tone is, it’s better than lingering. You turn and flit off to figure out the pajamas. 

You head down the hall and slow. Steve clears his throat from behind you and you turn back to find him peeking around the door frame. 

“The main bedroom. At the end,” he instructs. 

You nod and carry on. You’d almost gone into the room you’d been occupying. You deign to call it your own room. This place is not your home. It’s a prison and you hate yourself for not realising it sooner. Every single red flag waves in your memory and makes you want to tear your own eyes out. 

You go into the larger bedroom. You flick the light on and peer around. The overhead light has a simplistic white glass shade that casts over the space brightly. There are sconces on either side of the king bed, a switch beside each for their control, and nightstands that match the sleek black bed frame. Beneath the grand bed, a plush white rug across the dark hardwood. Like the rest of the house, it’s pristine. 

There’s a large closet nearly the expanse of a whole wall and two tall dressers, one to either corner as if to bookend the door you’ve come through. Another door stands opposite the closet through which you can only see shadows and the glean of the overhead light. It must be another bathroom. 

You step further inside and stop short as movement catches your eye. You didn’t notice your reflection before, there above the headboard of the bed. Your heart drops and you look up. The bed is mirrored perfectly by the reflective panel above. You shiver and turn to the dresser. 

You put your hand around the knob and pause. You squint as you bend to read the label and notice one on every drawer; each a single letter. You notice only four variations in initials; S, B, L, and A. That’s what they must be; S is Steve. Your blood simmers to a boil. There are more of them. That man on the speaker must be one of them. 

You pull open the top drawer marked S. You pull out a pair of pajamas; plain blue cotton, a tee and matching pants. You shut the drawer with your hip and carry the armful to the bed. 

You hear him coming down the hall. You lay the pajamas on the mattress and back up. He marches through and stops at the foot of the bed. He swipes the towel from around his waist and hurls it at you. You catch it with a gasp. 

“There’s a mess in there.” 

“Yes, sir,” you force out and keep the towel in hand. 

“Towel goes in the laundry tomorrow. With my clothes. Hamper at the end of the hall.” 

You repeat your acquiescence and carry on. The heels click incessantly beneath your strained arches. You enter the bathroom and gather up his disposed clothing. You ball it all up with the towel and dump it all in the standing hamper.  

You drain the tub and wipe down the sides. You take the washcloth from the sink and add it to the laundry. You’d rather burn it. You wash your hand before you finish sopping up the little puddles of water on the tile. You hang the bathmat over the edge of the tub to dry out. You even flush the yellow piss he left in the toilet. That feels especially deliberate of him. 

You return to him, click, click, click. You stop in the doorway as he pulls back the bedcovers. He glances over and narrows his eyes. Great, what cryptic order have you missed. 

“You don’t look ready for bed.” 

“Sorry, sir--” 

“Get changed,” he interrupts you, “come back here.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Off again. You’re irked by how he orders you around. You feel like a dog. 

The room is barren of your things. It isn’t yours, that’s why. It’s made for the doll they’re trying to make you into. You go to the dresser and pull it open. It’s full of lace and silk and sheer fabrics. None of it meant for practicality. 

You pull out a jade green nightly and shake your head. You retreat to the bed and sit, clutching the silk. This isn’t right. For once in your life, you’d rather be stocking shelves amidst the greedy customers and crow-like managers. You hate this all. You hate yourself for not being strong enough to get out. 

“Never keep your man waiting,” the woman’s voice returns and makes you wince. You look around and find one of the picture frames has dissolved its usual image of a bicycle wheel and bucket. Her eyes is swollen and bruised despite her efforts to cover it with makeup, “men do not like to wait. You not only disrespect their time but them—Ah!” 

She throws her hand up to shield herself before the screen goes black. You whimper and slump your shoulders. Your lip trembles as tears threaten to spill over. You can’t do this. Eventually, you’ll slip up again. You don’t want to be like her. A hollow shell of fear and yet what else can you do? 

“Doll,” the man’s voice ripples through the air, “don’t make me repeat myself.” 

You look up at the ceiling defiantly. You scowl and the bodiless voice laughs.  

“Keep on,” he goads, “I’ll remember every single one.” 

You stand and put your chin down. His threat is clear. Tonight, it’s Steve, one night, it will be him. You strip down and as you pull the silk over your head, the man’s low timbre roll in the air. 

“Can’t wait, doll,” he taunts and the microphone clicks decisively. 

You collect the clothes and put those in the hamper as well. You come back down the hall and make certain the lights are all off. You make your death walk towards the main room and peek inside as you approach. Steve lays across the bed, his pants tented without shame. He has one light on at his side of the bed. 

“Turn that off,” he demands as you enter. 

You flick off the overhead and come forward. He lifts his head to watch you. You approach the side of the bed and he stretches his arm across to rub the space beside him. He flips back the covers and winks. 

“You look good but... green’s not my colour.” 

You furrow your brows as you warily touch the mattress, pressing one knee to the edge, “sorry, sir, should I change?” 

“No,” he rolls onto his side and grabs your arm, hauling you up impatiently, “I like the way your tits look in that.” 

You clamp your lips tight to keep form showing your repulsion. He forces you against him so you feel his need against you. He growls in his throat as his hand trails up your arm. He frames your chin and forces you to look at him. His nose brushes yours. 

“I knew you were perfect the day you signed the lease, honey,” he snarls as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “So sweet and soft--” 

You press your hand to his chest and whimper. The idea that he’s been planning this, that it was all manufactured, a trap, is worse than the reality itself. Was the washer made to break or was it just a perfect opportunity? 

“It’s really too bad no one’s seen you around the building in days...” he purrs, “and once you fail to turn up for work... well... they’ll replace you but who will really think to look. Another missing girl in the city. Forgotten with yesterday’s headlines.” 

“Please, stop,” you beg as you curl your fingers against the light cotton across his chest. 

“You should be thanking me, baby,” he pulls you with him as he falls onto his back, keeping you nestled in his thick arm, “a girl like you shouldn’t be stocking shelves and smiling at strange men.” He reaches with his other hand to flip off the light, “you should know your place. You need a good man, maybe more, to show you.” 

The darkness sets in with the ominous tilt of his words. There is no way out of it. And even if someone were to look for you, how could they even know you would be here? You never mentioned it to your coworkers, never thought to say anything to your mother’s sparse texts. She never answered anyhow. 

You were stupid. You trusted him. A fucking landlord. You should know better than that. 

[lupoteodoro]

Salute to Captain Lloyd Cox. If it weren't for his heroic act of standing between the other two men, Major R. D. Winters wouldn't be looking at the camera but instead turning his head to smile at his best boyfriend Captain Lewis Nixon III.

[eccentricallygothic]

if he's not scaring the living daylights out of you, is he even the one?

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 199 & 200

A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 35 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Perfect for Me - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Coincidence - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Wildflowers - (Brock Rumlow X Sinthea Schmidt) - @nekoannie-chan

MIDNIGHT MAGNETISM - (Andy x Reader) - @labella420

Enjoying the Show - (Ari x Reader x Ransom) - @stargazingfangirl18

Night Night, Nugget! - (Bucky x Reader) - @nicoline1998enilocin

Gun for hire (Prologue) - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Steve Drabble - @stargazingfangirl18

The Gift - (Andy x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Filled to the Brim - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420

Come back - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Fight For Me - Chp 1 - (Alvey Kulina/OFC) - @talia-rumlow

What's Hers Is Mine - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer

Tunnel - (Ororo Munroe, Logan Howlett) - @nekoannie-chan

Office - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Little Punk - (Bucky x Reader) - @targaryenvampireslayer

Bad Romance - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Jawbreaker - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Ari Dark Concepts - @hansensgirl

His Inheritance ~ Chp 34 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

Gun for hire (1) - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Gun for hire (2) - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Lurking in the Shadows - (Curtis x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

A Bit Longer - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Like This - (Winter Soldier x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

You and Me - (Winter Soldier x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Escape - (Steve, Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Books - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Feelings - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 6 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Evermore - Proposal - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Evermore - Part 4 - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Finding Home (5) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Reconnect - We Don't Talk Anymore - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Your Mark On Me - Part 9 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

[sunvmars]

｡･ﾟ･ღ¸.✻´ fic masterlist `✻.¸ღ･ﾟ･｡

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | old masterlist

-updated: 01/15/24

-writing and taking requests for marvel, bullet train, the gray man, stranger things

✮ smut | ♡ fluff | ❄ angst | ❀ general romance | ☽ misc.

Bucky Barnes

one-shots:

stars around my scars ♡ ❀

during a day off, you and bucky reminisce about how you met and your past experiences.

sunshine ♡ ❀

you and bucky host a get-together for the team, an expected surprise causes you to confide in steve.

you showed me how ♡ ❀

bucky was never one for love, unsure he was even capable of it- but then there’s you.

Steve Rogers

one-shots:

tangled ♡ ✮

(archived for revision)

honeybee ♡ ✮ ❀

steve knows everything about you, his best friend, and he strives to make you happy. you make the first move and steve wants to learn how to please you in other ways.

sunday morning ♡ ❀

a rainy day ruins your date plans, so steve brings the date to you.

if i could give you the moon ♡ ✮ ❄ ☽

your relationship with steve is nothing more than a string of lies and promises in a hearty affair.

only you ♡ ❀ ❄ ☽

on a night out with the team, only shortly after you and steve’s breakup, you end up drinking a little too much and refuse to go home with anyone but steve.

afterglow

06/20/24-06/27/24

a quiet hue ♡ ❀

you meet steve during a creative block, and he eases you out of it.

two-shots:

01. fireworks ❀

everyone but you and steve realize you like each other.

02. sparks ♡ ✮ ❀

 just steve fulfilling his craving of you.

01. a quiet hue ♡ ❀ ☽

during an extreme case of art block, you meet steve on your apartment's rooftop. he helps cure your blocked creative flow, and sparks something else along the way.

02. a brighter hue ♡ ✮ ❀

you and steve go on a date, deepening your connection in ways you couldn't have even dreamed of. (01/20/24-01/25/24)

wip series:

bitter sweet series you've grown to resent steve after he breaks up with you and you give him the cold shoulder for weeks. you soon discover you're pregnant and show back up on his doorstep to tell him the news. he tells you the real reason for his leaving forcing both of you to work together and cooperate. will things go back to how they were, or is it forever unfixable?

01. bitter sweet ❄

02. sour ♡ ❄

03. tart ❄

04. citrus ♡ ❄

05. sickeningly sweet ❀ ♡

06-1. as sweet as cake ♡ ✮ ❀

06. fresh start ♡ ❀ ☽

rogue series

01. rogue

timeweaver (mini-series)

01. coming soon

Wade Wilson

one-shots:

i love you, wade wilson ♡ ❀

a simple, lazy weekend with wade. (coming soon)

Billy Hargrove

one-shots:

remember ❄ ♡ ❀

billy's first and only love returns

you're so good ♡ ✮ ❄

you and billy connect, forming a close bond.

Steve Harrington

one-shots:

i missed you ♡

{steve confesses after nancy leaves}

Tangerine

one-shots:

kyoto ✮ ❀

tan stumbles (literally) upon you on the way to kyoto

Ladybug

coming soon

Six/Court Gentry

coming soon

Lloyd Hansen

coming soon

[traumatournament]

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let Me Love You | 5 - B. Barnes

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Today, you didn't attend class with your usual high spirits. Despite indulging in the sweetest latte with your friends, the sugar failed to lift your mood. Your melancholy was palpable, evident even to Bucky.

Concern etched on his face, Bucky inquired, "What's wrong? Are you sick? You look pale. I have paracetamol with me. Do you want to take one?"

His worry touched you, a new sensation in your interactions. You chuckled softly and replied, "I'm alright. I'm just stressed for tonight."

Bucky furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled by your response.

Taking a moment to explain, you elaborated, "I have to accompany my ex to the gala tonight. He needs me to maintain his good image."

Bucky tilted his head, contemplating your predicament.

"You can't escape it?" he asked, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

You shook your head resignedly. "No."

Observing the concern in Bucky's eyes, you felt a flicker of gratitude towards him. His genuine care sparked a desire in you to confide in him further.

Night had descended upon the venue as you and Lloyd arrived, the air thick with tension. As you approached the entrance, Lloyd linked his arm with yours, creating the facade of a happy couple.

Leaning close to your ear, he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation, "Tonight, just lie. Even though you hate me, in front of everyone, tell them you love me."

His words hung heavy in the air, leaving a bitter taste in both of your mouths.

You gazed at him wordlessly, your eyes betraying the turmoil within. Though no words escaped your lips, your expression spoke volumes, a mixture of resentment and resignation evident in your features.

Before you could respond, the football coach intervened, greeting Lloyd and ushering both of you to greet the guests.

The attendees comprised students who had received scholarships, successful alumni, and sponsors of the university. Among them was Nicky, accompanied by her father. She approached Lloyd with a smile. "Lloyd, you're finally here. I thought tonight would be boring." Then, turning to you, she added with a hint of malice, "Oh, fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

You responded with a polite smile, sensing the underlying hostility in Nicky's demeanor. It wasn't worth causing a scene, especially considering Nicky's powerful family connections compared to your own lack of influence.

A senior attendee who had frequented the gala noticed the rearranged seating. He directed his question to Nicky, "Your table got changed? Usually, your family sits near the stage."

Nicky clicked her tongue in annoyance, turning to survey the empty table. "Yeah, I heard the main sponsor of the university never shows their face. But suddenly, last night they decided to come. It caught my mom and her team off guard."

Lloyd's eyes widened in surprise. Besides, Nicky's family was another sponsor, seemingly even more influential?

Suddenly, the MC made announcements, prompting the guests to take their seats at their assigned tables. You found yourself seated beside Lloyd at a circular table, but your discomfort grew as Nicky appeared and took the seat beside him.

You couldn't help but feel as though Nicky was trying to assert her presence, as if she were ready to step into your role.

"Well, Nicky," you thought bitterly, "you can have the trash."

However, Lloyd seemed equally displeased with the seating arrangement. You could tell he wanted to sit with you, perhaps to talk things over. Despite his past mistakes, he couldn't bear the thought of being without you.

Opting to converse with the seniors at the table, you tried to distract yourself from the tension between Lloyd and Nicky.

Meanwhile, Nicky attempted to engage Lloyd in conversation, but her efforts were met with short, dismissive replies.

"Oh, I'll think about it," Lloyd replied curtly to one of Nicky's questions.

"Maybe another time," he added to another, clearly uninterested in engaging with her.

Back on the stage, the headmaster of the university began delivering the opening remarks, highlighting the institution's achievements over the past year to the investors gathered.

As the headmaster highlighted the achievements of the football team, including Lloyd and his teammates winning the championship, they were called to the stage to receive their awards and prizes. Lloyd, along with his team and coach, were initially confused, not expecting any additional gifts.

Nevertheless, they made their way to the stage, greeted by applause from the audience.

Once everyone was gathered on stage, the headmaster invited the CEO of Vamps and his son to join them. Murmurs of surprise rippled through the crowd as the prestigious Vamps company was revealed, known for its presence among the top three companies in the world, specializing in foods, luxury goods, and hotels.

The dimming of the stage lights and the commencement of music heightened the anticipation in the room.

Finally, the owner of Vamps, Michael Barnes, made his entrance. His friendly demeanor and firm handshake conveyed his pride as an alumnus, congratulating the team on their success.

As the moment arrived to present the prizes, Lloyd and you couldn't believe your eyes. It was Bucky who stepped forward, holding the awards and the cheque.

A hush fell over the students of St. Louis University, stunned by the unexpected turn of events.

Wait? Bucky is the heir to the Vamps company?

Bucky? The same Bucky who drove to class in an old car, while Vamps raked in billions yearly?

Lloyd felt his world crumble around him. He had belittled Bucky, calling him a loser, unaware of the immense wealth and power Bucky possessed.

As he stood on the stage, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the gala, Lloyd couldn't help but feel small and insignificant. His once towering confidence faltered, replaced by a cold sweat and a sinking feeling of inadequacy.

Unable to see you in the dimmed light of the guest tables, Lloyd's heart pounded with regret. He had never imagined that Bucky, someone he had dismissed as insignificant, would outshine him in such a grand manner.

And you? You are also speechless and stunned. Realizing Bucky's true identity left you reeling, questioning everything you thought you knew about him. You had never thought Bucky was this powerful because each time you spent time with him, he never once flaunted his wealth.

After the awards ceremony, the football team returned to their seats, jubilant over their newfound wealth. But Lloyd sat there, his joy overshadowed by a profound sense of defeat.

Nicky's congratulatory words felt hollow to Lloyd, a feeble attempt to pierce through the darkness engulfing him.

In a sudden and desperate move, Lloyd grabbed your hand, his voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and despair. "We're leaving," he declared, his eyes searching for an escape from the suffocating reality closing in around him.

Caught off guard by his abruptness, you struggled to find the right words to respond. "Ah, wait—". You attempted to protest, but the weight of his touch and the turmoil in his eyes silenced you momentarily.

Lloyd felt like he was being chased when, as he and you walked past two tables, he heard his name, "Lloyd Hansen."

The voice didn't belong to Bucky. When he turned around, he saw the headmaster standing with Bucky and Michael.

The headmaster gestured for Lloyd to come closer. He wanted to introduce Lloyd, "He is the reason why our team won."

Michael shook Lloyd's hand, causing him to let go of you. "You have a great future, kid. Keep it up. I heard you will be the first NFL athlete from our university."

Lloyd stammered, "I, uhm, you're too kind."

Bucky seized the opportunity to be with you. You noticed how his style had changed compared to his daily outfit. Right now, he really looked like he belonged to the top 1%.

Bucky's sudden appearance beside you only deepened Lloyd's sense of despair. He watched helplessly as you gravitated towards Bucky's table, leaving him behind in a sea of uncertainty.

Lloyd's heart sank as he felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him. Each word of praise from Michael and the headmaster felt like another blow to his ego, leaving him feeling small and insignificant.

Lloyd looked at you, now freed from his grasp, feeling utterly empty.

Invited to join Bucky's table, you glanced back at Lloyd, his expression a tableau of despair and resentment. In that moment, he felt utterly alone, abandoned by his own inadequacies and overshadowed by your presence.

Lloyd's chest tightened with a mixture of resentment and longing as he realized that he had lost not only you but also any chance of reclaiming his former glory. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that he had let his arrogance and complacency cost him everything he held dear.

Meanwhile, Nicky, who was dressed in her best attire, had hired the best makeup artist and had spared no expense, couldn't accept why you, who wore a simple dress, no jewelry, and minimal makeup, were the center of attention.

Nicky's jealousy radiated off her like a palpable force, her perfectly manicured nails biting into her thumb as she seethed with envy. Seeing you, the object of Lloyd's affection, being drawn to Bucky's side was like a dagger to her heart.

It just wasn't fair!

Nicky = Drama Mama?! 🙄

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[waterghostype]

world’s worst polycule

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer Masterlist

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen, August Walker)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6