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untitled-writer-013 · 2 years

Note

How would yanderes Peter Parker and Stucky(poly) react to reader’s boss yelling at them but reader is too shy and sad to do anything about it and doesn’t dare to go against her boss. And he also misbehaves with her too, reader is at a fix and doesn’t know what to do and she’s miserable and cries sometimes as well

Yandere!Stucky x Fem!Reader, Yandere!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader,

Bonus Character: Yandere!Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Reader (Abusive Boss HCs)

warning(s): yandere themes (but you knew that :3), mentions of verbal, physical, and slightly sexual abuse, abusive workplace, helpless reader, mentions of violence, mentions of murder, protective yanderes, asshole boss

Steve and Bucky had confessed their feelings for (Y/n), and they were pleasantly surprised when she said she felt the same way.

They supported her with everything that she wanted to do, including working a job. They had talked about it, and they only wanted her to promise to not overwork herself.

They were happy to see (Y/n) was happy that she could have a job, so they always assumed that she was happy with working and only praised her for doing such a wonderful job every day.

Sadly, that wasn’t how it was for her when she went to work. She worked from home if she could, but her boss was very stubborn so she found herself walking into the office building yet again, a slight sinking feeling in her stomach.

Her boss had a cheeky smirk on his face, giving her shoulder a good squeeze as she forced a smile on her face, wishing him a good morning. She managed to get him to eventually let her go to her desk, sighing as he followed and pestered her about her job and tasks for the day.

“Sir, I really can’t focus on my work when you’re trying to talk to me.” (Y/n) stated, resisting the strong urge to roll her eyes as she looked up at him, calmly telling him to leave her alone.

He glared at her, looking to see if her coworkers were around before he gripped her arm tightly, making her yelp as she stared up at him. “You think your ‘boyfriends’ can protect you? I don’t see them anywhere here. So fix that attitude, or I’ll do it for you.” He growled out, making (Y/n) shake as she fell silent, terrified as he let her go and walked away.

(Y/n) tried her best to return to her work, the incident still plaguing her mind even as she left to return home. Steve and Bucky always made sure to give (Y/n) a warm welcome home, with Bucky fixing all of them dinner while Steve looked for a tv show they could all binge together.

(Y/n) pushed herself to remain strong, she didn’t want to give her boss a reaction that she knew he wanted. That, and she didn’t want Steve or Bucky to get in trouble because of her. She returned home, letting herself forget about work as her boyfriends welcomed her home with warm food and her favorite show on.

This was how (Y/n) dealt with her boss’ antics as the week wore on, wondering when he would finally take the hint that she wasn’t interested in him. It wasn’t until one day that (Y/n) would find out just how far her boss was willing to go.

(Y/n) had been called into his office, begrudgingly making her way there as she wondered which lecture she’d have to listen to. She stepped into his office, shutting the door behind her before she felt someone wrap an arm around her waist and clamp a hand on her mouth. She struggled against him, not willing to let him overpower her as she tried to reach for the door, yelping when he yanked her to the floor.

She knew that this time was different, this time, he was really going to hurt her. Her eyes widened as she quickly pressed a button hidden on the back of her necklace, alerting not only the police, but her boyfriends that she was in danger. She hoped the gift would actually work, meanwhile she tried to buy herself time by kicking at him and backing up from him. He had quite a big office, and no one was outside to overhear what was going on, so she knew she had to fight back as much as she could.

Steve and Bucky were shocked to receive an alert from (Y/n), having received her location and a message that she was in danger. They both rushed to her place of work, wondering what was going on as they pushed past the New York crowd. They didn’t waste any time as they made their way through the building, looking to see where she could be as their worry grew.

(Y/n) could hear her boyfriends reach the floor they were on, her eyes widening as she let out a scream, alerting them to where she was. Her boss glared at her, slapping her as he pinned her down on the floor, straddling her as his eyes filled with anger.

Steve and Bucky ran to the door they heard (Y/n)’s scream come from, kicking it open as they spotted (Y/n), being pinned underneath her boss. The two super soldiers saw red, Bucky being the one to force the man off of (Y/n) while Steve swooped in to pick her up, gently reassuring her while Bucky held the man up by his throat, the cold metal making her boss cringe as he struggled.

Steve resisted the urge in joining Bucky, focused on getting their darling home. He held her bridal style to his chest, letting Bucky do what he pleased as he left the two men alone, making sure to not let (Y/n) hear the pleas and screams for mercy.

Bucky arrived home late, making sure that everything had been taken care of with the help of Tony before he cleaned himself up, going into his shared bedroom, where he spotted his two lovers asleep. He smiled gently, glad they had been there to save her as he climbed into bed, promising to himself that they would always protect (Y/n) as he felt her hold onto his arm.

Peter had always adored his beloved (Y/n), and wanted her to be as happy as she could be. When she had practically pleaded with him to let her have her own job, he couldn’t help but cave in, knowing how much she loved the job she was applying for. He celebrated when (Y/n) told him that she had been accepted, making sure to fix something extra special for dinner.

(Y/n) was over the moon to get her dream job, not knowing her excitement would soon be crushed by her boss. At first, she didn’t pay him any mind. She knew that she was the newest employee there, so she thought that maybe he was testing to see if she could handle it. She continued to hold her head high for a few months, until she realized he was serious.

(Y/n) had worked too hard to get this job, and she wasn’t going to let this asshole ruin it for her, so she gritted her teeth and continued working, making sure her lovely boyfriend wouldn’t worry about her. She pursued through the hurtful comments he would make, how uncomfortably close he’d get while she was working, and eventually it became exhausting.

She hesitantly left her boyfriend in their bed, getting ready for the day as she made sure she had everything she needed for work, leaving a note for Peter before she left. As usual, her boss picked on her, pointing out invisible flaws in her work before he told her to meet him in his office.

(Y/n) frowned, letting out a sigh as she made sure to save her essay before she stood, expecting to get a bit berated before he would leave her alone. She stepped into his office, looking up at him only to see that he was taking off his tie, her fear only worsening when he began to unbutton his shirt. She refused to watch this, running out of his office, wondering where the hell her co-workers had gone as she ran to the women’s bathroom, locking herself inside while she called Peter, shaking as she heard someone banging on the door.

Peter answered the call, smiling as he asked her what she needed, only for his smile to drop as he heard her panicked breaths, listening as she begged for him to come get her. He didn’t hesitate, getting suited up before he made his way to her place of work, not wanting to keep his darling waiting.

(Y/n) cried as she heard her boss yank and pull on the door, freezing in fear when she heard him begin to mess with his keys, knowing he’d be able to get in as she begged for Peter to get there soon. She waited with bated breath, listening as everything had gone silent, wondering how long it had been before she heard the door open. She let out a sob, too scared to see who it was as the person gently cupped her face.

She was surprised, looking up to see it was Peter, her beloved Peter. She let out a relieved sob, holding onto him as he gently rubbed her back, reassuring her that she was safe with him as he brought her home, making sure he wore his mask before swinging to their home. He made sure she would never get hurt again, his heart warming as he felt her cling onto him.

Loki was elated when he had learned that his beloved (Y/n) felt the same way for him. He promised her that he would make her happy, and when he heard her talking about getting a job, he supported her. He helped her find a job that he believed she would enjoy, making sure it wasn’t too far from their shared home. Loki had a few second doubts, wondering if he was willing to have her away from him, but he knew it was worth it when (Y/n)’s face lit up, telling him she had gotten the job as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

Ever since then, (Y/n) made sure to make her wonderful boyfriend proud, making sure she put in her all at work, but made sure she didn’t overwork herself. (Y/n) wouldn’t notice the flirtations from her boss at first, mostly just assuming he was just a friendly guy. It wasn’t until he placed a hand around her waist that she had confidently told him that she was taken, making sure she made him let go of her before she left, wanting to return to something more important.

As the days dragged on, her boss seemed to leave her alone, making snide remarks under his breath, leaving before she could make out what he had said. It didn’t bother her, mostly glad that he seemed to finally take the hint. She was working, just like she usually was, going over the presentation she had made and was making adjustments, making sure that it looked professional and the information was accurate. As (Y/n) was working, she was notified by an intern that her boss wanted to see her in his office, making her let out a gentle sigh before she thanked the intern, watching as she left to join her co-workers at the party they were throwing downstairs.

(Y/n) had opted out of the party, wanting to finish her work so she could spend time with Loki once she got home. She came to a stopping point before she made her way to the office, not worrying about what would happen since all she saw was a man with a deflated ego. (Y/n) opened the door to the office, noticing that the chair that her boss would sit in was turned around from her. She was slightly confused, stepping inside and closing the door, wondering if he knew she was there. As she walked up to the desk, she felt someone wrap their arm around her throat, making her gasp as she began to struggle, fighting and kicking with all of her strength, trying to yell curses at him as he tried to choke her out.

(Y/n) was determined to not let him overpower her, biting him as hard as she could on his arm as he let out a yell, throwing her off of him and making her crash against the wall. She felt her head pound as she became dizzy, her nose bleeding as she tried to get away from him, kicking at him when he tried to grab her ankle. The struggle was interrupted by Loki, (Y/n)’s lunch in hand since she had forgotten it at home. Everyone seemed to freeze, Loki’s eyes immediately spotting her bloody nose and the bruises forming around her throat. He then turned his attention to her boss, letting her lunch fall from his hand before he lunged at him, pinning her boss to the ground as he began to beat him.

(Y/n) would normally be freaked out, but she was so grateful that he had arrived just in time, hiding her face as he heard him curse at her boss, beating him to a pulp before she gently tugged his arm, telling him he had done enough. Loki looked down at her boss, realizing that he had passed out a while ago. He let out a sigh, standing before he turned to (Y/n), helping clean up her bloody nose before he pressed a kiss to her cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Shh, you’re safe with me, my love. Let’s go home, we can do whatever you’d like.” Loki stated, smiling gently as he took her by the hand, letting the police take care of the man as they left, giving her hand a squeeze as he looked down at her. Perhaps now she would stay with him, after all he had warned her before that people would try to hurt her, and this had only proved his point.

~fin~

author’s note: these boys will never let you get mistreated, you deserve so much better! don’t worry though, they’ll do anything just to keep you safe, even if that means breaking a bone or three! <33

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year

Text

No Apologies

Pairing: orc!Bucky Barnes x reader x orc!Steve Rogers

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, forced marriage, breeding, magic tattoo, double penetration, my usual orc filth, bad dirty talk.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will.

P.S. Ok, it was not me who wrote it, it was a horny spirit possessing my body yesterday 👀

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"Fucking finally!" A huge dark-haired orc twice bigger than any man exclamed, inadvertently making you jump as you stared at him and his friend.

These two barbarians were the ones who captured you and brought you to the orcs' caves where other human women abducted recently were held - before they were forcefully married to those who kidnapped them, that is, just like you were a couple of hours before.

"Did you mark her with a tattoo?"

The orc behind you smirked, proudly gesturing to your naked crotch with a faintly glowing heart - a magic emblem of sorts, an orc's claim to demonstrate you were a monster whore, a wife of an orc. Or of the two of them, like in your case.

"You're scaring her," the other male said gently, his hand on his friend's shoulder as he eyed you up, humming with satisfaction when you tried to stop your tears, humiliated and afraid, completely naked in front of him. "Thank you for preparing her, brother. We'll take it from here."

The orc behind your back let out a sound close to a bark - he was probably laughing - before finally taking his hands off you and marching back to the main cave where the girls were held before they were given to their respective husbands. A couple of hours before you were presented to your personal orc bastards, you were scrubbed clean, marked with a crotch tattoo, and fed a few sickeningly sweet fruits for your first mating night, as orcs called it. Although, technically, tattoo was binding you to your orcs, the ceremony was considered official once they both filled you with their seed, your kidnappers informed you kindly. It was in your best interest, they said, since if your husbands wouldn't fill your baby room, other orcs could make their claim and take you for themselves. All you had to do was to spread your pretty legs and get a good fuck, they smirked, making your nauseous as you clenched your fists, your arms bound behind your back from the moment you were captured.

Well, you couldn't imagine sleeping with these two brutes with their cocks the size of your arm and staying alive.

"It's gonna be alright," the fair-haired orc smiled at you, gesturing to their bed - a pretty fancy bed for crude creatures like them - and stepping closer to you as if he meant no offense, and you wed him willingly. "We won't hurt you."

"Sure," you whispered as you watched the dark-haired orc licking his tusks as he stared directly at your naked chest. It was cruel of them to pretend to be kind, but they were orcs. Cruel was what they were. "You gonna tear me apart, and I will die."

"What? No, no!" The orc protested immediately as you took a step back, shivering, your arms aching from the rope. "We will prepare you properly before doing anything. It won't hurt, I swear!"

Yes, sure. As if they cared about your well-being, dragging you here like a sac, not listening to you wailing while you plead for your life until your throat started to hurt.

The other male narrowed his eyes at you, visibly irritated, before advancing at you and holding you by the arm. You flinched, your eyes on the ground not to provoke him further. You'd probably die if he decided to punch you. "You humans think anyone different from you is a monster, but, unlike you, we never marry a woman to abuse her. You'll be fine, stop trembling like a mouse."

The hot touch of his rough, work-weary hand only made you shake harder. They were two scary, scary creatures, and you could do nothing to protect yourself, naked and bound, alone in the caves full of orcs who treated you like a child's toy. Nothing good was gonna happen to you here. It was bad enough to be kidnapped, but kidnapped by monsters...

You didn't even feel it when tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Again.

"Please don't hurt me," you mumbled, afraid to raise your eyes to your captors, your knees trembling.

The orcs looked at each other silently, and the blonde one shook his head, sending his friend a sad smile. The other one softened his grasp on your arm then, gently guiding you to the bed with his other hand caressing your back. "We won't, little girl. I promise, it won't hurt at all."

He waited until you landed on the bed with an anxious look on your face and gestured to the several little bottles on a nightstand you haven't seen before, the other orc opening one of them and pouring some sort of oil on his hand. "Look, all of this is to make you feel better. We'll oil you well before doing anything, and magic will help. It won't hurt even a second. It's your mating night, it's for your and our pleasure."

He nodded to his friend who eagerly spread the thick herbal substance between his huge palms, and the man landed on his knee, taking your feet and massaging the oil into the skin. For a second you shivered, expecting something weird to happen, but you felt nothing except warmth slowly spreading beneath orc's fingers. It was... alright. He wasn't beating you into submission, at least.

"See? We'll put it all over your body, and you'll feel fantastic," the fair-haired male sent you a reassuring smile, pouring the oil directly on your skin, massaging it into your feet and going up as you stared at him, dumbfounded. He was really giving you a massage, an orc who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him just a couple of hours before. "Bucky, help me, please."

You stared at them, unsure, when they both put themselves of their knees in front of you, each taking your foot in their hands and slowly rubbing in the oil. It was still scary to let those huge men, almost complete strangers, touch you, but at least they weren't actively trying to rape or punch you. Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will. Why were they doing it? Why bother about what you felt? They clearly didn't care for your consent before, so why?

The more oil they used, the less cold you felt, you came to realize as orcs rubbed your unbound hands and shoulders with care, their breathing deep, calm as if they weren't aroused by your naked body. You could almost believe them if you didn't see their cocks bulging beneath the fabric of their pants. Instantly panicking, you raised your eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking there, and they softly rubbed your wrists where it hurt the most from the ropes.

No, they said they wouldn't abuse you. Surely, there was no reason to lie to you? They could have already taken what they wanted, there was no need to coax you into mating with them. It would still feel good for them even if they tore you apart. Instead, they kept spreading this strange magical essence, making sure you were all covered in it, their hands travelling to your shoulders and stomach as they kept rubbing your skin glistening from oil.

It almost felt nice, especially Bucky's arms on your belly. All of a sudden the dark-haired orc you were so scared of turned out to be really affectionate with you, his hands massaging your tummy tenderly but not going lower as he stood on his knees in between your thighs, his friend sitting on the bed behind your back, his fingers softly rubbing below your shoulder blades. It felt good. Serene. The orcs seemed almost disarming now. Was it the magic of the oil? It must have been. But weren't you supposed to feel hot by now? You thought the oil definitely contained some form of an aphrodisiac, considering they were going to bed you, anyway. But you just felt calm and nice, and it didn't make you want to jump on their cocks.

"I thought you'd put something arousing in there," you admitted as Bucky put his hands on your hips, and the other orc, Steve, chuckled. "So that I'd do it with you."

"We don't need any sex potions to arouse you. This oil is to make you relax. Doesn't it feel nice now?" he whispered into your ear gently, his hands cupping your breasts. "You'll be soft and warm, that's all you need to feel pleasure. Now please spread your thighs for Bucky, he has to put this oil inside you, and you won't feel pain at all when we bed you."

Letting your body relax and lean on Steve's chest for support, you slowly spread your legs for Bucky, and he generously poured magic oil onto his palm before covering your crotch with it, his thick fingers rubbing your lower lips and your clit as you exhaled loudly, turning your eyes to the ceiling. It was better now. Maybe you hadn't wed them willingly, but they treated you far better than you expected. Now you believed they weren't going to tear you apart, and you let out a sigh of relief, tears finally falling down your cheeks before Bucky gently wiped them away, his fingers caressing your face as you stared at his soft, warm expression.

Your breasts were already slick with oil, too, but Steve was still massaging them, pressing his thumbs in your nipples, rubbing them in between his thick fingers so that they became puffy and started to itch. Soon it felt really good when he pinched and tugged them a little, leaving nice little kisses behind your ear.

When Bucky slipped his fingers inside your already leaking pussy, you were kissing Steve then who stuck his longue, thick tongue down your throat. It took just a little fingering till you cummed nicely, Bucky's hand slick with your juices as you moaned, your lower belly pleasantly hot. You cummed two more times once your orcs started eating your holes out, their lovely tongues reaching every right place as you orgasmed with your legs spread wide, your knees trembling. Yes, it felt really nice now when Bucky's tongue pressed that spongy spot inside you, and you cummed on his face.

When you let out a moan again, Bucky left a loving kiss on your crotch tattoo gleaming softly in the dark. "That's a good girl. See, told you it would feel nice."

You caressed his thick, coarse dark hair absent-mindedly, "It's because you didn't put your horse cocks in me. They're too huge."

You heard Steve snickering as he hugged you from behind, his pulsing member rubbing your lower back. "Horse cocks, baby? That's a very nice thing to say."

Bucky smiled at that, his fingers on your aching clit, "Don't worry, the oil is working. Now we can breed your cunt, and you'll feel real good, kitten. I bet you'd ride me first thing tomorrow morning."

"Doubtful," you murmured before Steve turned your face to him and made you open your mouth, his tongue licking yours as his cockhead teased the tight ring of your muscles, slowly penetrating your ass.

Bucky was getting as much impatient, his monstrous cock sliding with ease in your pussy while you let out a sigh: it felt so good, just as they said it would. They were warm and strong and gentle, and even their cocks felt right once they started moving in one rhythm, stretching your holes. Your pussy had been tiny for Bucky's member thick as your arm, but now when his cockhead kissed your cervix, you just cummed a little, your pussy spasming and clenching around a nice, thick cock. Having Steve fuck your ass was even more bizarre idea, and yet it didn't hurt either. On the contrary, when his cock was rubbing against Bucky's, separated just by the back wall of your vagina, you orgasmed again with your eyes rolling inside your skull.

Fuck, that was it. You needed to mate. You wanted your holes full of orcs' seed to consummate your marriage and have them fucking you whenever you wanted. Wouldn't it be nice? It'd be so lovely if you could just stroke their cocks whenever you felt like fucking, and they'd sandwiched you between their bodies like now. You imagined walking up to Bucky and just getting your panties down, showing off your aching pussy to have him hammer his cock in you immediately. Or perhaps complaining to Steve that your empty cunt hurt, and you needed his thick, fat cum to feel better. Surely, it would be lovely to have them constantly use their cocks to please you.

You were cumming your brains out. You couldn't even count how many times you orgasmed already, the orcs changing angles and poses to have you on cloud 9. They were talking to you - Steve said something about the restriction to cum in your mouth unless you got knocked up, but Bucky assured him you were getting pregnant real soon - but you couldn't say much with your brain switched off. Now you could only think with your pussy. Sure, why not get pregnant with little orclings? Your orc husbands said they'd keep fucking you, anyway. They'd be so proud of you with your tattoo getting bigger, showing you were knocked up with orcs' seed, a sweet little slut with monster babies in your belly. Your orc husbands would fuck you as much as you wanted them if that happened, they promised to you as your pussy started spasming again, the tip of Bucky's cock kissing your cervix.

"I think it's time," Steve licked his lips, slowly taking his cock our of your ass while you moaned in protest. "Shhhh, baby. We have something special for you."

The other orc smirked, pulling out his member, too, his tip rubbing your drenched lower lips until Steve's cock joined him. You opened your eyes right away.

"It can't be," you said, your voice hoarse as you stared Steve in the face. "You're joking."

"No, baby, you're ready to take us both," he murmured, squeezing your perky nipples as his cockhead penetrated your cunt, Bucky's member entering your poor leaking hole at the same time, stretching it enourmously. "We have to end the mating ceremony like that, fucking you in one hole. Look how good you're taking us."

You stared with horror at your bulging belly, their cocks stretching you so much it looked like you were already pregnant. Shit, why did it feel so good to have them in your cunt together? These too monstrous, barbaric cocks pounding your sweet human pussy, soiling it with their dirty cum, forcing you to bear them babies... Could you ask them to do it more? To have their cocks in you every day? Bucky said something about you riding him tomorrow, right? You could do that. You could milk his horse cock till he emptied his balls in you. And you could suck Steve off real good, regardless of the taboo. You were definitely gonna get knocked up today, why waiting when you could give him a great blowjob with your tight throat?

Shit, two monster cocks abusing your cervix felt so fucking good.

Yeah, you were gonna make babies with them. You were gonna let your orcs have you where they wanted you if you got to command them to fuck you whenever you wanted to.

"A nice creampie for you, baby, for being so good to us," Bucky murmured into your lips, kissing you as your belly grew bigger with his and Steve's seed filling your baby room. "Look, your tattoo is already glowing. Congratulations on becoming an orc mama, you sweet slut."

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#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #yandere #orc!stucky

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p3sephone · 2 years

Text

No way out. (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Summary: you are a worker in the Stark Tower, only aiming to grow your career and keep your life simple. Actually, you were the kind of person who admired the avengers but from afar but Steve Rogers didn’t have the same plan once he started talking with you.

Serie warnings: this is a serie so there are going to be many specific warnings that will be given throught all the chapters. This is a dark! Steve Rogers x reader, dark! Bucky Barnes x reader serie. This serie is DARK, so expect heavy themes such as non-con, unwanted touches and all that. If you do not feel comfortable with this or if you’re a minor, do not read and block this account.

Chapter 1 warnings: feeling uncomfortable.

Word count: 1,5k.

Note: this is my first serie ever and it was inspired by this one shot here. Reblogs, comments and likes are always welcome and well appreciated! <3

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

You were nervous, looking at the building in front of you. You could hear the voice inside your head grin and tell you that you would never make it. You weren't able to hold a person's attention for more than 5 seconds, imagine doing a work of this caliber. You were a professional looking for a job and you expected a somewhat mediocre or at least moderate job. You didn't expect your candidacy sent to Stark Tower to be seriously accepted. The salary was just perfect, more than adequate for you living alone in a small apartment. You could have bought several things and not worried about not being able to make ends meet, but could you have made it through the first day of work? Or rather, every day? You sighed looking at the smartwatch on your wrist, deciding you had to go inside. It certainly couldn't stop time and you couldn't be late on your first day. With a decisive, albeit fake step, you headed towards the large building. You saw people at the exit mingling and getting less and less as you went, until you showed your e-pass to enter. You entered without problems and looked around: a classic building, yes, but by Stark. And it looked good. You inhaled through your nose trying not to show your nervousness, on the contrary, forcing a small smile on your face. You had to make an effort to at least look happy and satisfied with this new job. Everything had already been explained to you in advance by email, you even had an interview to ensure that no confidential information ever came out of your mouth. You had turned your nose slightly up at this: your job was simple and those files weren't really that secret, what could they worry about? But of course it wasn't your business and you certainly didn't have a say about it. You went to the third floor, take the right. Your office was there: there were no new colleagues to talk to, just a coffee machine on the ground floor and your office waiting for you with a great view outside. It was tiny but perfectly adequate for your job. You smiled slightly, placing your briefcase on the desk and taking a few seconds to admire the place. You found it minimal, perfect. You loved simple things. You heard little noises at the door, so you briefly composed yourself as you turned around. "Can I help you?" the question came out almost spontaneously, so much so that you had not taken into consideration the person in front of you. Steve Rogers. He was one of the avengers, you knew him and were grateful for his work. You knew the story of him, you had seen the videos.

He was the perfect hero and soldier, but heroes weren't really your thing. Maybe you were wrong, but you felt gratitude, yes, but not as much gratitude as felt by the many inhabitants of New York and other cities. You were okay, the avengers were too and did their job while you did yours, and it didn't seem like a really bad thing. You wanted to leave things as they were and had made it clear right away that you didn't want to be involved in any kind of danger. "Well no, actually I just wanted to say hello. I saw you outside... you looked very nervous." he giggled nervously, putting his hand to his hair as if to fix it.

As if he had something out of place. You suppressed a little twitch in the eye of nervousness, annoyed that someone had seen you. You hated being seen that way, not because there was something wrong, but because all your life they made you believe it was wrong and now... you just got used to it. You put the most fake smile on your face and then you shake your head. "I was actually nervous, but only for the amount of work. I'm really happy to be here and for the welcome, thank you very much." you have denied how much he may have understood of your nervousness, making your voice silky and gentle. You had to behave like this with the public, you knew that. You could see that he was not at all convinced of your answer, almost as if he knew you were lying. You didn't care, after all your work wasn't in contact with the avengers. And to be honest, you could admit that deep down you were scared of men with abilities like Steve Rogers or others. You loved simplicity, they weren't simple, they were anything but. You were hoping that the golden soldier of America might give up and leave you alone to do your job, but he didn't. Instead, he decided to go further into your office, crossing the threshold of the door and frowning around. "Tony should do something about these offices. They're so bare." he frowned, then paused on you with a small smile. "I really hope you brought something to decorate them with. It’d mean, you know, that you will stay here a long time. Nice to have company." he tried to make you comfortable, but he only got the opposite. You frowned completely this time, dropping the mask and pointing out your confusion. "Company? There are a lot of people in this building." you commented with a nervous laugh, not understanding what his point was. You never thought in your entire life that you could say that, but Steve managed to make you deeply uncomfortable, as well as that overwhelming body. Normally it is thought that the bigger a man is, the more he can offer protection and safety, right? For you it was the other way around. It was as if you were afraid of it, deep down, but you didn't want to admit it. So when he approached you further with a little smile and a frown you pretended to be fine, stopping the urge to play with your nails or look away. He tilted his head slightly, giggling, shaking his head. "The third floor is almost completely empty. It's a new sector, Stark needed a few professionals and they have all already been distributed. Your office is very close to the rooms of us avengers, but in this corridor you are almost alone. Most of the rooms are archives. Weren't you informed? " his tone was almost mocking, you almost found that he wanted to discredit you. Or maybe it was your paranoia that spoke. You nearly choked on your own saliva upon receiving and processing that information, but you couldn't go back now. You had to get used to it. So you did what came naturally to you: pretend to laugh in situations of profound discomfort. "I think I missed it in the email sent, but thanks for the information, now I know why there were very few people here." you offered one of your best smiles, looking first at his blue eyes and then at the door, as if to indicate that he should go. He smiled back at you in the best possible way, almost seemed to commit himself. But he didn't get your message. You then cleared your throat, heading over to your desk and opening your briefcase. A photo of you came out but you didn't worry about it at that moment, thinking of sitting gracefully in your armchair. It was only time to turn around, that only after you surprised the infamous Steve Rogers with your photo in hand. Without thinking twice, you took it from his hands, holding it tight to your chest. Only when you saw his shocked expression on him did you realize your mistake: you lost control. You then cleared your throat, looking down embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just that important but I wasn’t-" You didn't really know what to say, there was no real excuse. The truth was that you were right and he didn't have the right to take your things, but could you really start your first day like that? Fortunately, his gallantry preceded him. "No really, I'm sorry! It was my fault, I shouldn't have... I just saw it and you, it was really beautiful. The view too." he giggled nervously, backing away. He felt deeply uncomfortable, like you. There was an awkward silence, followed by a brief "see you later" and his footsteps farther and farther away from him. You thought Steve Rogers was a great soldier, a good avenger but you didn't think he was capable of making you so uncomfortable. You didn't think about it, shaking your head and getting to work. You didn't have the time or the will to think. You knew you weren't nice and didn't need to believe otherwise, and above all you knew you weren't in that building to make friends or get acquainted. You loved the simplicity of your work, you would not have allowed someone to ruin it even just by entering your mind for a bad impression.

#dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark avengers #dark bucky barnes #dark winter soldier #dark! steve #dark steve #dark! steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #yandere steve rogers #dark stucky #dark! stucky #dark steve serie #dark steve fiction #dark bucky x reader #dark! bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark james buchanan barnes #dark stucky x reader

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foxgloveprincess · 2 years

Text

Another Taste Of Devouring Rush

Pairing: Pagan Gods Stucky x Female Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 8.8K

Summary: Growing up in a brothel, you’ve known and prepared for the fate that awaits you. But your madam’s scheme is looking for the highest bidder, and two potential bidders have caught your eye—though you’ve never seen their faces.

Warnings: Dark (Soft Dark Stucky), Medieval(ish) AU (Historical Inaccuracy because it’s a fictional setting), Polytheistic/Pagan Beliefs, Mythology, Yandere Behavior, Obsession, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Smut (Foreplay, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected Sex, Loss of Virginity), Forced Escorting/Companionship/Prostitution, Virginity Auction/Bidding on Virginity, Innocence Kink (sorta), Minor Character Death, Abuse/Violence, Blood/Gore. All characters depicted/discussed as SWers are over the age of 18. Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: This is in the same universe as A Little Touch of Heavenly Light. Though I think it’s perhaps darker than Tony’s tale. Not just Steve and Bucky, but also the reader’s circumstances make this one a bit of a doozy. Anyone who gets the Man of La Mancha nod, you’re my new favorite person.

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my own AO3 account. Seeing this anywhere else means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

Title from “Breath of Life” by Florence + the Machine

This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Enjoy!

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or unwilling to read/consume dark content, thank you!

I was born in a ditch, left naked and alone to die. Too cold to even cry out for my mother. A mother who abandoned me.

Another woman, named Aida, wandering through the cold streets deep in the night, stumbled across me and carried my fragile, near-frozen body to her abode. Tucked close to her breast, beating warm and welcoming.

The sign for The Broken Beast has always hung crooked over its doorway, welcoming customers to a small establishment of the world’s oldest profession. Not the most ideal situation for a growing girl. But no one ever touched me. Not the patrons, not the prostitutes. Not unless they wanted Aida’s wrath to rain down upon them like the tide of the Gods’ Blood. And it has been all I’ve ever known.

“You’re special, my jewel,” she says, brushing away my worries with the strands of my hair that stick to my forehead. “Only when you are ripe shall you be plucked.”

And every day I wait, learning from the women and men of the brothel—my siblings in trade. Etiquette, composure, seduction, sensuality. Blossoming and utilizing my developing talents to become appealing—the perfect fantasy. For I know, one day, that is my fate.

Yet every dawn, when their weary legs carry their heavy hearts to the small temple at the edge of the city and they bow before Ari the God of Pleasure and Passion, I weave my way toward others. The Righteous Captain and his companion, The Freed Soldier.

Of course, they remain silent. What use would two gods have for a future wretch. It soothes my soul, though, surrounded by their offerings. Gorgeous works of art and ornamented trinkets. No spark of envy in my heart, but a longing for that beauty. True beauty, when my world constructs it from fantasy more fragile than a butterfly’s silken wing.

I bow before them, my head resting against my hands, prayers muttered on syllables barely a whisper. My heart clenches in my chest and tears prick at my eyes. Hope a withering thing in my chest. Anticipating the day my precarious peace will shatter.

Shuffling feet alert me to an approach. Skye, her kind eyes gazing upon my prostrated form with pity. Not much older than I, but a mistress to many lonely souls. Still she remains soft, the closest person to a friend I have.

“Let’s go home,” she beckons with an outstretched hand.

I accept, as I must.

“You come closer every day, my jewel,” Aida declares, the flimsy material of her curtains obstructing her view of the street below.

My shoulders slump, sinking into my chair as my spirit droops within.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I conceal my distress with a pristine,“Of course, ma’am.”

“How are your lessons?” she asks, turning her eyes to pierce through me. Locked on every movement with an exacting precision. Never in my life have I been able to hide from her scrutiny.

“They teach me well,” I reply, folding my hands in my lap and shifting upon the cushion of the chair, sitting straight. I clear my throat of despair, biting back the temptation keen to voice my deepest desires and greatest fears. My ankles cross behind the chair’s leg, uncomfortable no matter how I settle. I feel it, deep in me. The question rises from within my gut, and before I can halt its progress I ask, “Shall I be presented upon the dais tonight?”

Aida scoffs, a fond smile tilting her lips. “Oh, my gem.” She stands and saunters toward me, lifting my chin with a gentle finger. “You shall be the most prized whore in all of the Nine Kingdoms.” She pats my cheek and returns to sit behind the sturdy mahogany of her desk. A ledger falls open before her, pages filled with names and sums. Her voice stills like water after it ripples, tone clear and dispassionate. “You shall begin to entertain tonight. But only the one who desires you most will have the chance to gaze upon you and enjoy your deflowering.”

I clamp my lips together, a distressed noise stuck in my throat. My gaze drops to my lap and my fidgeting fingers before I glance back up. Aida’s quill scratches more names into her book, waiting. She knows me too well.

“There are others, far more beautiful than I. My features bear nothing exquisite,” I insist with a gesture toward myself, heart pleading for my freedom toward the only mother I have ever known. Yet, as well as she knows me, she never seems to hear. “Should any new courtesan not do just as well?”

Regretful eyes meet mine. “Oh, my jewel, you are far more precious.” Her hands fold together and prop her chin atop her desk. She sighs. “Your innocence is far more potent in attraction than any fine face. And it shall win us a grand sum.” She stands and leans forward on her palms. “You shall be my crowning glory.”

The tears well along my waterline, blinked away and choked down. I nod. Anguish creeps along my spine, grasping at my heart and squeezing until my breath hitches.

“Of course, ma’am.” With my final word, I stand, bowing my head and retreating from her stifling expectation.

Descending the steps to the vast main room with its bar and many tables, my steps grow heavy, bile churning in my gut at the thought of strutting across this floor and seducing patrons for Aida’s purse.

Melinda greets me from her stool with a stoic nod. She tips back her drink and shifts silently in her seat. Though she says nothing, barely acknowledges me, her eyes flicker with the briefest glimpse of sympathy. It’s enough to draw me closer, settling beside her and dropping my head to the smooth, well-worn wood. Her presence—the slightest sense of her understanding—washes over me like the flames of a cozy fire in the dead of winter.

A bottle of aqua vitae clinks on the bar before my eyes, Melinda’s hand wrapped around it’s neck. She pours me a small glass, watching as I stare wide-eyed at the spirit.

“Don’t let them have more than they need.” The caution in Melinda’s voice startles me, the quiet woman not one to often offer advice. “Keep something for yourself. Your rage, your humor, your joy—keep something and tuck it away.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I straighten to meet her gaze, gratitude lacing every word. My throat grows tight with emotion, tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

She says nothing more, grabs her bottle of mead, and swaggers away. Chin held high, shoulders straight, yet burdened by the many years of her trade.

I remain at the bar, staring into the cup before me and the rippling drink within. It’s never touched my lips before, but I’ve heard of the acrid burn, the numbness. Too many girls getting lost in drink before entertaining their suitors. The dangers and temptations. Delicate fingers trace the rim, a debate rampant and inconclusive whirring through my mind. In the end, I push it away. Deserting the bar for the solace of my shared room.

The day passes in distraction. Evening draws nigh. The sun dipping toward the horizon. As the others leave for the bar downstairs, to get to work and earn their keep, I begin the transformation. Style my hair. Rouge my cheeks. Dress in my finest rags.

Voices swell below, raucous laughter and tittering giggles of delight. A farce. But one that brings coin and keeps customers returning again and again. My lungs expand on a deep breath and I stand without another look in the mirror.

“No,” Aida chastises from the doorway with only a glimpse of me, her frustration leaking from her pores. “This shan’t do.” Her fingers pluck in disgust at my cheeks. A sneer contorts her lip, hands grabbing at my chin.

A cloth wipes rough against my cheeks and her hands peel away the unsatisfactory outfit. She insists I wash again and presents a fine garment of crystal blue—pure, almost holy in its shade. Her foot taps as I scramble to appease her, turning once I am finished and awaiting her approval.

Her face remains a careful mask, though preferable to the disgust of before. She reaches out her hand. “Come.”

I nod and follow, navigating the hallways of the brothel until we reach a room empty of occupant, but not of purpose. This place, once used for boarding, looks nothing like the barren chamber of the rooms where we sleep. Cushions in lush textiles line the floors. Colorful lamps swing overhead, flickering their flames. Swaths of fabric drape over once bare walls. A table rests before a long, translucent purple curtain partitioning the room.

Aida draws me over and places me behind it. “You shall sit here,” she instructs, waiting to continue until I find my place. Raised upon a platform to survey the room before me. “Entertain your guests and who knows? One may desire to keep you.” She smiles, no warmth to her eyes, but a greed that consumes her. One with which I am well acquainted. It strikes me with her every glance in my direction.

“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper.

She hums and spins on her heel, exiting with a click of the latch on the door.

Many pass over the threshold throughout the night, curious eyes seeking the Beast’s jewel. Some leave after a glimpse of the gossamer barrier. Others stay longer, sitting before me for a moment of my time. Ever demure in tone and bearing, I entertain them—ask of their stories and charm them as I’ve been taught.

It is not until the late hours of the night, when a kind older man departs with promises of a return, do I receive my final callers.

Two figures enter. Strutting into the room with all the air of royalty. They sit like kings across the cushions, sprawling in a display of regal leisure.

“My lords,” I greet, my chin dipping toward my chest, a gesture of deference still visible through the barrier.

They do not speak for a moment. The silence elongating until I shift in my position and contemplate how I should continue to address them.

“What’s your name?” one asks, pleasant and genuine curiosity lacing his rich baritone.

Whether he expects a pseudonym or the truth, I answer with my name on a stuttered breath, struck by his gaiety and left intrigued.

“Your age?” he inquires.

Again, I answer with the truth, counting the years of my life. Older than the youngest who sell themselves here, well into womanhood and past the hopefulness of youth. The perfect age, Aida once said, to know better, yet not know at all.

He hums. His companion remains silent. The companion’s head tilts, and I shift once more. Despite the gossamer partition fixed between us, his eyes bore through me. I swallow and match his stare, waiting.

“Tell me of your tastes,” the first continues. And my gaze drifts from the silent figure.

“Tastes, my lord?” I question, not quite grasping his meaning. “Do you wish to speak of certain proclivities? Or—”

“Your favorites,” he intones, voice warm and soft with a tinge of amusement rife on his tongue. It’s sweet and disarming. I pause, contemplating the correct answer when he prompts, “Just the truth will suffice. Tell me of the foods you enjoy. The colors that catch your eye. The songs to which you long to dance.”

“I,” The words cuts off as my mind scrambles for the truth—too many thoughts whirling like a windstorm in my mind. I focus on the response most easily given. “My palate may not be as well traveled as some, sir, but I enjoy the sweet buns from the bakery down by the temple.”

“You enjoy sweets, then? All the better,” he jests with the confirmation of my reluctant nod, “for now I know a weakness. I must use it to my advantage.”

A laugh—a spontaneous thing, unpracticed and genuine—bursts from me. My lips spread in a smile.

“And you, sir? What are your weaknesses?” I inquire, with an honest interest lurking behind my words. Never have I felt the necessity of knowing potential paramours in such a way, but something within my belly yearns for it now.

“He’s bullheaded, and always pursues heavenly creatures without relent,” the companion speaks for the first time.

His voice, soft and smoky, wraps around me and dizzies my head. My eyes trace his obscured form, and I breathe a laugh again. The delighted sound accompanied by them both.

The rest of our night, we spend in each other’s company, exchanging pleasantries and small tidbits of favor until Aida shatters our peace to escort the potential bidders out.

Disappointment sits heavy in my gut, but I wait for my madam’s return. She sweeps into the room and brushes the curtain away, a twinkle of triumph in her eyes. My lips part on a question. Yet it goes unanswered, guided as I am to my rooms to sleep and prepare for the rigors of the next evening.

Many more visit the second night. More the third. But each night, I wait. Bated breath and hopes high, anticipating the the arrival of the two lords who begin to occupy my every waking thought.

Each night, always the last, they return, enlivening me with their attention and gentle affections. They grow bolder, sneaking closer toward the curtain. Prodding at the boundary between us.

“Why deep purple, little blossom?” one asks, soft voice reaching me. His fingers skim the fabric, catching on the tips and tugging until it flutters. “I have seen many don the color here. Is it the brand of your establishment?”

I swallow, leaning away from his unconscious lure. So close to them, so thin a barrier between us. The impulse tickles my spine and bids my fingers move—but I resist.

“My lord,” I explain with caution, “surely you know, in these lands, purple is the mark of a whore.”

Silence stretches.

Broken by a growl—an almost inhuman sound, accompanying a cutting assertion, “You are not a whore.”

I swallow, a spike of fear flickering at the base of my skull at the strict remonstrance. Lips parting, my mind scrambles for an apt response. Working through stunned and fluttering thoughts, I reply, “I am not, as of yet, my lord.” My head bows, unwilling to peek at their figures behind the delicate material. Heat warms my cheeks. “But I might be yours.”

A sharp inhale meets my ears.

The door bursts open, Aida ready for her nightly routine. The men stand, unmoving for a moment as they attempt to peer at my visage. To no avail as the curtain remains in place, not a shift or quiver.

No, the only quake comes from my blood, thrumming through my veins in an intoxicating rush. I wait, as I always do, for their reaction—just one more word from either of their lips. My fingers sink into the cushion beneath me, threatening to rip the cloth and expose the feathers and fluff beneath. But they remain as silent as me.

In incremental movements, I begin to stand. My legs untuck from under me, lifting me up. A shaking hand reaches forward. Fingers brush the fabric and begin to grip. Though my reason rebels against the instinct, every fiber in my being wishes to gaze upon their faces. To trace their features and drink in their presence without any impediment.

“My lords, if you would follow me,” Aida insists. Her tone breaks me from my thrall, barbed and biting—her ire roiling behind a composed guise.

When she returns, her nails dig into my arms, grip tight and painful. There is no gentleness in her treatment that night. Only a threat and a lesson learned.

Journeying with the others the next morning, I find the temple on an empty stomach, coaxed to deliver the first of my offerings to the God of Pleasure.

Everything within me revolts at his feet, bowing my head and refusing to utter my prayer. But I offer a coin from my meager purse before weaving my way toward beauty.

It feels right, supplicating myself to the patron of lost souls. The Freed Soldier looking upon my fatigued frame with indifference.

“I cannot go on,” I lament at his feet, unable to glance at the altar of the Righteous Captain, knowing too well how conflicting my position is to his virtue. Only the Soldier may be my confessor this morning. “This venture, it taints me—spreading like a stain until it will cover every part of me.” Beneath my skirts, I loose a tiny sachet from around my thigh—a few aromatic herbs, a shard of iridescent glass, and a speckled pebble encased inside. “Please, I beg you. I will be loyal all my days.” Tears drip down my cheeks, and splash across the tiled floor. “Help me,” I whisper from quivering lips.

There is no answer.

The night falls, as it must, and I return to my shrouded position. The faces blur in their familiarity from behind my curtain. Voices returning from the nights previous. Aida keeps new, curious gazes away—culling the interest pool to those wealthy enough to bid for my innocence.

The older man returns from the first night, his voice jovial. Though he doesn’t tell me it, his name sits scrawled on a piece of parchment resting under Aida’s arm, along with the others who vie for my attentions.

They’ve started to sit closer, their curiosity feeding a need to discern my appearance. But none catch a glimpse—none that I wish to catch a glimpse.

Except for them.

Only one comes that night. His companion absent from his side. My heart sinks, distraught and cycling through notions of my failure before he speaks.

“I hope you will forgive me,” the man excuses, sitting before the curtain, pressing probing fingers across the translucent cloth. “I wished for a moment of your time, alone.”

My throat clears, mind searching for the words to express my curiosity and sate my incompetence with answers. “Then your friend has no need of my services?”

“No, no,” he rushes to reassure, “business calls him away this night. Though he should return tomorrow, neither of us wished to lose an opportunity to see you.”

Relief floods through my veins, a grin stretching my lips. “I suppose that will do.”

“Be assured, my sweet, we shall only ever have you together.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. His implications and passion striking me to my core. His figure leans closer to the drape, so close I might perceive his features if it were more sheer. Even still, his proximity ensnares my senses, scenting the faintest hint of sage on his clothes, the brush of his breath. My heartbeat thumps in my ears.

“You shall be my sweet, shan’t you?” he questions no louder than a whisper.

Before my thoughts can form coherence, my lips murmur, “yes,” without pause, fervor rife in the declaration.

“Then I have something for you.”

He turns away, hands procuring a bag tied to his belt. He offers it out. Just on the other side of the curtain but no further. I reach for it, charades of anonymity and mystery cursed to the riverbed.

The curtain parts around my arm, fingers grasping at the pouch. A hand locks around my wrist, lips descending for a tantalizing caress. I gasp.

The man smooths his fingertips over my skin. Such tenderness, reverence in the gesture. And I sit still, unable to break the sanctity of the moment until he releases me with a final kiss to my knuckles.

I swallow, a lump forming in my throat, impeding any sentiment I might utter. My eyes flick away from the shadow of his face, locking onto my gift and untying the ties. Pulse fluttering beneath my skin, every fiber of my being grasps for composure.

Peeking into the linen bag, my fingers pluck out a small, dark shard which melts in my touch.

“Eat it,” he encourages, eager and insistent. “It’s called chocolate.”

I hesitate, wondering at the food, trying to discern its flavor without a taste. Yet chocolate is not something with which I am familiar. But the shard finds its way to my mouth, melting as it did between my fingers. It coats my palate with sweet bitterness. A sound of delight trills in my throat, looking to the man who offered such a fine gift.

“Thank you,” I whisper, still struggling to form words and lost in the pleasures of the treat, and even a simple offering of gratitude feels ill-equipped to convey my appreciation.

“Steve.”

“What?” I ask in confusion, glancing toward the pouch now resting in my lap and back to the gossamer.

“Steve,” he repeats, a patience to his voice, “it’s my name.”

“Steve.” It repeats on my tongue, sweeter than the chocolate still lingering. “A pleasure to know your name, my lord.” A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. An ache growing within my chest—inexplicable yet all-consuming. Akin to tenderness, affection. Accompanied by a pang, worse than those of a growing body. Knowing he and his companion are still but one of many who might win my innocence. Possibility and probability and favor warring against our fates that may not align.

But I disregard it. Allowing my own indulgence, engaging Steve in conversation and gaiety—as if I were not hiding behind a veil, and he were any man I might meet on the street.

And the next night, they return together. My endearment to them growing even more incisive. Heavy as a boulder within my chest and piercing through me. Yet I have been taught well. A charming air shielding my true feelings from them, just as my face remains concealed.

“What think you of your other suitors?”

The jubilance of my laughter ceases. Stunned by the man’s inquiry. Steve turns to face his companion, fidgeting in his seat. My eyelids blink, batting away bewilderment.

“They are of no concern, my lord,” I rush to say, stumbling over the words. Dread slithers down my spine, colder than winter’s frost. “You may be my only master, should you wish it.”

“And what would be the price of that?” he growls.

“James,” Steve reprimands, cautioning his companion and introducing me to him for the first time.

Though my throat dries and my nerves pluck with discomfort, I reply, “I will never set the price, my lord. It is not one I wish to collect from you.”

Silence settles between the three of us. Long moments spent with our own thoughts. A chair creaks. A cup clinks. My breath stays within my chest, refusing to escape my lungs.

“Do you wish to be ours?” James asks, an edge to his words that I cannot define nor fathom.

“More than any other,” I reply.

“No matter the price,” Steve intones, question woven with an intensity much like his companion’s.

“Yes, my lord.”

It is the last thing I say to them. Their bodies rising as one and exiting the room. A strong, determined steeliness lining their shoulders and regimenting their gait.

Aida barges into my room, expression a blazing inferno of rage. Her nails sink into my arms, dragging me from my bed and shoving me against the floor.

“You think to trick me, to make a fool of my endeavors?” she questions, tone sharp and pointed.

My chin ducks, unaware of my slight against her. Trying to puzzle together whatever infraction I have committed.

She tilts my gaze up, fingers squishing my cheeks and nails biting at my skin. “I own you,” she seethes. “Until the breath leaves my lungs and my soul fords the Gods’ Blood, you are mine and no one else’s.” She pushes me away and I yelp, head smacking against the frame of Skye’s cot. “Play your games with your suitors, my gem,” she spits, “but do not think you may challenge me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I whisper, still lost and perplexed by her sudden wrath. But unwilling to provoke it further.

“Now,” she straightens, smoothing her hands over her bodice and turning her gaze from me. Yet still it sends a shiver down my spine. “You shall pray with your sisters and brothers at the temple. And come the evening, you shall see no more of those two lords who think themselves your keepers.”

I swallow hard, nodding and waiting to gather myself until her steps retreat down the hall. Head dizzy, I stumble to my feet and brush away the tears lining my eyes. For I know of whom Aida speaks. No two other men had sought me so ardently than James and Steve. I sniff away the distress and smooth my dress. Leaving my sorrow tucked away in the empty room.

My steps tread heavy toward the temple. My knees aching before Ari. Sorrow clings to me like a shroud and I cannot remember the words of my prayers before his feet.

I stay with my siblings at the temple, too forlorn to find my way to any other god to plead my case. Aida has spoken. As the madam of the brothel, her word equates to law and I cannot defy her. I cannot even fathom any strength to try.

Skye wraps her arm around me, guiding me back toward the temple door. Passing by a priestess with a half-veiled face, my steps falter. Her hand stretches before my waist, blocking my exit.

“You so often find your way to this temple,” she states, her voice smooth and deep. A curl of shocking red hair falling to brush her cheek. Feline eyes scrupulous as they survey my frozen form.

My throat dries, a spark of fear curdling in my belly. “Yes,” I reply on a stuttered breath.

“You do not seek out your gods today,” she presses, gaze narrowed.

Skye’s hold tightens upon my arm, a firm tug urging me away. But even she knows the respect owed to those in service of the gods. I release myself from her grasp and turn more fully to the priestess, whose emerald eyes shine with some divine knowledge.

“You know our station, sister,” Skye replies for me, biting even as her gentle hands reach for my waist. “Our prayers are sent to Ari in the morning light.”

“Yet her prayers are not yours,” the priestess refutes, turning her attention away from the woman at my side.

I swallow, lips parted on some protestation that does not come.

The priestess’s hands enfold mine, a small object placed in my palm. Voice soft, she whispers, “I have seen this appear upon their altar only when your prayers are the most sincere. Yet you have never noticed that it is yours.” With no further explanation, she bows her head and spins on her heel, returning to other duties of the temple and leaving me stunned with the weight of such a holy gift in my hand.

“Come,” Skye urges, wrapping her guiding arm around me again. Her eyes trail after the priestess, confused and wary.

My hand drops to my side. The points of the trinket prick at my palm, but every notion in my head knows without doubt that this precious thing must be protected. That Aida must never know it has come into my possession. It slips beneath my pillow, a ten-pointed star strung upon a smooth string. Out of sight and safe and mine.

The evening looms closer with the passing of hours, my heart heavy in my chest. For I know, with Aida’s supervision, I won’t see Steve or James again.

As the sun descends on the horizon, despite my disappointment, I carry myself with charm and poise. Hoping to endear myself toward one of my few other suitors. For I must. My life hangs in the balance of their favor.

“So, my dear,” the older gentleman inquires, “what shall I bring you?”

Swallowing down my dry throat, I reply with words fit to choke me, “Just yourself, my lord. I only wish for you.” The falsehoods are bitter on my tongue, forced. And I cannot help but compare them with the truths often spoken with my two favorites, the ones forbidden to me.

Instead, I am left to please strangers, to lure the rich and bait them with innocence and false fidelity. It drains me each night. The first passing with no sign of Steve and James. The second falling with little hope.

Until a crash sounds from outside my room. A cacophonous racket that sends me jumping in my seat. It startles my suitor as well—a younger man pleased by strokes to his ego and unconcerned with truth.

“What in the Land Beyond is happening out there?” he huffs, standing from his place and stomping toward the door.

Only to be forced back as it bursts open and another figure storms inside. He calls my name, his rough voice a boon, lifting my spirits—James.

I stand, stepping toward the gossamer partition and wait for his approach. My tongue ties in my mouth, unable to exclaim in curiosity or astonishment, simply gazing at his form through the curtain. Sounds from without reach my ears, more crashes—broken cups and chairs. A ruckus that must have stemmed from him.

“You entertain them still?” he questions, hushed and incredulous. Reaching through the barrier between us, his touch wraps around my wrist. With a gentle tug, he attempts to draw me forward—an attempt I reluctantly resist. “You need not. Come.” He urges me forward again.

“My madam forbids it, sir,” I protest, voice quiet as a mouse yet as loud as I can make it. I do not budge from my spot before my pedestal, nerves a flurry of fear and confusion fluttering within my chest.

He pauses, grip pulsing around my wrist with a stern strength. “You wish to stay here with them?” James spits the words with contempt, releasing me as if I scalded him.

My lips part on a confirmation I cannot voice, silenced by an inability to form the proper words on my tongue. Tears prick at my eyes, dripping in cool rivulets down my cheeks.

He huffs a scornful bark of a laugh, shaking his head and turning toward my evening’s patron. “You think you may have her?” he questions, tense shoulders held like a threat, feet stalking forward. “You will not.”

“Wait!” I cry, hiccuping a sob in distress. My hands grip the curtain, threatening to tear it from its hanging. “Please, James. Don’t—”

Another figure fills the doorway, just as broad and strong. He steps inside and closes the door behind him.

“Are we ready?” Steve asks, his voice sure and soothing.

“She will not come,” James replies, turning his attention back toward me and approaching on ominous steps. “Yet.” He whispers the word, almost against my lips through the thin barrier between us.

His head tilts. A moment of calm passes, our breaths shared. But striking out in an instant, his hand wraps around my nape and drags me forward until his lips crash against mine.

The fabric remains between us, but I taste his ardent desire in his touch and kiss, shaking me to my core. His heat burns me, tantalizing and tempestuous. And just as suddenly as he had ravished my senses, he releases me.

“You have promised yourself to us, lost little blossom, do not forget,” he murmurs against my lips before stepping back toward his companion.

They both leave through the door without a glance back. And I am left stunned. Lifting gentle fingers to trace my lips, my knees weaken beneath me and I fall upon my cushioned seat.

Dazed, I continue my duties of the night, inattentive and lost to contemplation. Of Steve and James’ reappearance and urgency—of the hunger in James’ kiss. Ill-defined figures pass before the curtain, shadows forming the men left in my cadre of callers. Even in my dreams, hand tucked under my pillow and clinging to the star, I cannot bid my thoughts settle. Instead, it replays in my mind over and over. The press of James’ lips. His hand on my skin. His heat. The piercing of Steve’s gaze. His soft voice. His calm in the midst of chaos. Fantasies weaving together, leaving me in fits of sleep and waking with a gnawing need.

It is the first time my prayers ring sincere as I bow before Ari—beseeching his lenience, desire threatening to overwhelm and consume me.

Sitting before his feet, morning light soft against my skin, I prostrate myself, bending low and touching my forehead to the cool stone floor.

“Ravenous One, God of Passion and Pleasure, patron to lovers and the fallen, grant me clarity, I beg.” I speak through the dryness of my throat, spine pricking with awareness, knowing the bodies lined beside me might overhear my whispered plea. Yet I persevere knowing I can neither abide nor endure my heart beating for two men I shall never have. “Give me strength to fulfill my duty, to obey my madam, to forget those I—” Words threaten to fall from my lips, perched precariously on my tongue—words of love and affection I cannot entertain. I finish the thought, swallowing down those tempting utterances which wish to be spoken, “to forget those I fear I cannot.” My voice cracks, as fragile as my state of mind, searching for mercy—from my desires, from the gods, from myself. I lick my dry lips and stumble over the rest. “So I may serve you in all ways, a loyal and ready supplicant to indulgence. And may the Gods’ Blood flow forever and ever.”

The candles before the god’s feet flicker. A soft draft brushing against them. I sigh and stand, patting my hands against my skirts and placing my offering upon the altar. A strip of luxurious fabric taken from my cushion wrapped around a small flask of Melinda’s best mead.

Staring up at my new patron god, tears sting my eyes. A soul-deep acceptance settling within me. His fiery eyes gaze down at me, unseeing and unsympathetic.

Preparing for the night brings me to the partitioned room, shrouded in secret and ready to beguile.

An hour passes. Aida’s presence stifling in the close quarters. We wait in silence, yet my madam cannot stay still. Her irritation and uncertainty growing with each passing second. Her shoulders tense. Her fingers pressing to her cheeks and kneading the flesh there. She casts glances toward me over her shoulder, staring at the door with a glare.

“What have you done?” she grits out between clenched teeth. Though she doesn’t turn, she waits for my answer.

“Nothing ma’am, I don’t understand. I thought—”

She raises her hand to silence me, storming from the room.

Alone, I puzzle over the absence of my suitors. For they had all been eager—if not for our carefully constructed rapport, than for the thought of defiling my body. Surely they could not have all lost their interest in the span of one day.

My teeth sink into my lower lip, worrying over the flesh as dread rises like bile up my throat. To disappoint Aida would be a sentence worse than death—for she would make it so. Hands clasped before my chest, I mutter a prayer to Ari, pleading for my salvation.

And it comes with the opening of the door.

The older gentleman, the one with kind words and a penchant for trying to charm me in return, enters my room and sits before my curtain.

“You must forgive me my tardiness,” he excuses with a good nature. “I was discussing some business with your madam.”

“Please, sir, uh, do not fret over such matters,” I rush to appease, stumbling over the placation with a huff of relief. “I will wait for you, with pleasure.”

He makes a happy little sound in the back of his throat and eases into his chair, conversing with me freely and distracting me from the lack of other men eager for my company. He stays until Aida collects him at the end of our night, ushering him out with promises of satisfaction.

And my routine shifts abruptly. When I stand to weave my way back to my bed, the latch on the door will not budge. Locked in the lavish room, I’m once again left waiting with no explanation.

The door opens again, a delighted Aida waiting for me without. My brow creases with worry, unsure of this abrupt change in temperament.

“My jewel, come with me,” she begs with a gentle hand guiding my elbow. “Master Radcliffe quite enjoys your company and has just this night bid for your maidenhead.” She smiles over at me, brushing her fingers against my cheek.

Everything within me braces so that I do not flinch under her touch. “So he will be my new master, ma’am?” I inquire, keeping my voice steady though it wishes to crack and crumble into sobs.

She hums an amused sound. “Only for one night.” She tucks my chin with her finger before drawing me toward her personal chambers. “If he wishes to own you, he shall have to pay a much more fine price.” Her fingers pinch at my upper arm. “If you wish for more, you shall have to please him, shan’t you?”

She chuckles and prods me into her room. Her bed sits pushed into the corner adjacent to the window. Before the window, her desk. Across sits a cabinet—one I know well.

The box bed waits with its doors open, the bed still small and cramped and lined with soft linens. My childhood spent locked away during the night, to keep me from wandering eyes and hands. It used to make me feel safe and protected. Now, the space sends a bolt of fear up my spine.

“Ma’am?”

“In you go, my dazzling jewel,” she urges with a tinge of impatience, pushing me toward the door and dipping her hand between her breasts to retrieve an old, iron key. “We must assure your innocence only one day more. I promised Master Radcliffe we would take every precaution.” She smiles, a sinister glee sparkling in her eyes. “I will bring you your meals and allow you to bathe before your formal introduction.”

My feet hesitate, stuck to their spots on the floor before the bed. My lips part on a plea, but there is no time for its utterance.

“Get in,” Aida insists, a firm hand on my back shoving me inside.

My legs tuck beneath me just as the doors swing shut, the lock clicking into place and leaving me in darkness.

Her steps retreat and her door latches, though the flame in her room continues to flicker on its wick. The candlelight a sliver between the seam of the bed’s doors.

My knees fold beneath me, the flat pillow cradled to my chest, face tucking into the cushion. Filling my body with air, I struggle to remain calm. Forgotten memories flash before my eyes, nights spent crying within these sheets, waiting for a kind word or comforting embrace.

Skimming over the wood to my side, my fingers find the small notch of a carving. The two stars well-worn by so many years spent tracing the crude shapes. Sinking into the bed and turning on my side, my shaky breaths calm, legends of the Righteous Captain and the Freed Soldier stirring a gentle warmth within my chest. Years of learning my destined craft accompanied by an overheard story, a whisper of legend, a glimpse of splendorous offerings.

My lips press together. My eyes close. There are no more prayers for me to utter, but still I spend a restless moment with thoughts of them before I drift off to sleep.

The doors rattle. An unsteady hand presses the key into the lock of my bed, the iron clicking several times. I jolt awake, body forced upright.

“Is everything alright?” I ask, fearful of the answer. Despite the fatigue clinging to my limbs, I remain alert, heart pounding as no response returns. “Aida?”

The low light of the early morning greets me when the doors swing open. The grey fog outside Aida’s window tints the room with its dreary presence. Befuddlement strikes me. It is far too early for the girls to be awake and readying for their prayers. And I was sure I would not be permitted for the sake of my intact innocence. But instead of Aida standing before me, Skye’s wide eyes stare back in terror.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper, foreboding dripping down my throat and pooling in my belly.

“You,” her voice cracks and she glances away a moment before sniffing and turning back to me, “You have to come with me.”

Her hand reaches toward me in offering, spattered with crimson drops. My head tilts as I accept. Sore bones from the cramped space protest when I stand. But I make no complaint, focused on my friend—her mind wandering on thoughts I cannot comprehend.

She rushes away, dragging me behind, her steps quick and frantic toward the room I share with her and a few others. Though their beds are disheveled from sleep, they are absent. My lips part in inquiry, but Skye proceeds with urging me to wash and dress, glancing over her shoulder after every move.

“Wear this,” she insists, helping me don the gown of crystal blue—the one I wore my first night behind the veil—though it sparkles more now, shining incandescent in the dim light. “It is what they want.”

“Aida and Master Radcliffe?”

Skye’s head shakes in denial, but her quivering lips do not grant me any other crumb of information. So I am left following her, and stuck in bewilderment. The house remains far too quiet as she finishes readying me. Only thoughts of Aida’s endeavor make sense as Skye checks my appearance. No other explanation forms within my mind. Yet she denied it.

“Hurry,” Skye beckons with urgency. “We can make them wait no longer.” Her voice cracks over the words, eyes shiny with tears.

I only pause one moment, reaching beneath my pillow to take the gift from the gods and shove it within the pouch of my pocket. Then my hasty steps mirror Skye’s, unsure yet scared for her distress, descending the stairs to find a captive crowd.

By the time my feet find the middle step, the scene stretches before me in gruesome spectacle. Cowering in fear, my brothers and sister of the brothel remain by the bar—dotted by the same crimson splattered against Skye’s hands. On their faces, their clothes, staining their skin. Before them, lining the floor sit eight heads. Unfamiliar faces filthy and sitting in a pool of blood, their mouths open and eyes bloody and burnt hollows. Flies buzz about the room, landing upon slack lips and tongues, burrowing into the empty sockets. The stench curls in my nose, death and decay striking pungent and vile. Bile rises in my throat and I freeze. The horrific sight, inexplicable and grotesque, stays my step. Even as Skye prods me forward, I cannot force myself to continue.

Then I hear my name, honey sweet and calm, from a voice I know so well. “Please, join us, my sweet.”

I comply on trembling legs, swallowing hard and fighting back the urge to heave and scream.

Steve and James stand in the center of the room, swords brandished and dripping. Pride in their bearing, a confidence borne of their bloodthirst. Just as crimson speckled as the rest, yet faces alight with satisfaction.

Skye scurries toward our siblings, stepping carefully around the congealing substance on the floor. Welcomed into their terrified and protective embrace as all eyes turn to me.

And I’m alone at the foot of the stair, unable to tear my gaze from the two men I once thought my salvation. Our focus does not waver, though mine darts between the two. Trying to fathom the meaning behind their display. Unable to place a name to their face—seeing them for the first time, unprepared for their beauty and their brutality.

“Who,” I croak, clearing my throat in the attempt to speak louder than a whisper, “Who are those men?” My trembling hand gestures toward the macabre sight.

“You do not recognize them?” one asks, brow tilted in skepticism. That voice—James? My head shakes in response, denying any knowledge of the men. He hums, pleased by the response. “They thought themselves worthy of you. To sit beside you and relish in your company.”

My eyes blink, a slow motion that tempers the faint feeling that assaults my head. A hand reaches out, gripping the bannister of the stairs and my other plunges into my pocket through my dress, grasping the pendant in an effort to ground myself.

Lined up in a row, the men who bid for my maidenhead. Tracing their features with my eyes, sickness assaults my senses. My knees bend beneath me, weakened by the thoughts flurrying through my mind. The meaning of such violence. The cause for such ghastly arrangement.

And then I see her. Behind the line of dismembered heads, contorted in an unpleasant pose sprawls Aida’s corpse. Her eyes staring blind toward the ceiling and arms splayed to her sides in unnatural angles. A thick, jagged line of red slices across her throat, no longer spurting her blood, but slick with it. It coats down her dress and across the floor—the source of the pool beneath the necks of those unfortunate men.

I hiccup a sob, the sound stuck in my throat. Crashing around me, the world slips from beneath my feet. My legs collapse. Only the strong grip which wraps about my waist keeps me upright. Not Skye or Melinda or any other from the brothel. No. My head tilts, the sight of my rescuer churning my guts in a nauseous wave. The brown hair that brushes his shoulders, the crystalline gaze which pierces through my very soul.

He shushes my whimpers, caressing his fingertips across my cheek, a look of awe brightening his features. He smiles.

“Loyal for all your days,” he murmurs, focus attracted to the parted flesh of my lips. An aborted noise of horror chokes in my throat. “There will be many of them.” The promise rings in my ears as he rights me on my feet and gathers me close, bringing me toward his companion.

“I believe formal introductions are in order,” the other says, standing tall and stalwart beside the severed heads, triumph straightening his shoulders. “We’ve waited for this moment for so long. Though I will admit, we hoped for more amenable circumstances.” His hand reaches up, scratching at the beard on his cheeks, a sheepish smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

I’m released by the brunet’s arm, left standing where the pool of blood just grazes the side of my shoe.

A babble of noise rises from those by the bar, harsh and harried. One swift glance from the blond stops it short, before a single phrase may form.

He turns back to me, catching my eye and bowing his head. The softness of his expression, the warmth of his stare, before he utters the words, I know. “I’m Steve, little sweet.”

“I’m James,” the brunet intones, a smirk plucking at his upper lip. He holds himself with a bold smugness I do not understand, until he open his mouth to speak again. “Though perhaps, despite our many meetings, you might know us better by a different title.”

A subtle glow begins to form around them both. Not from the rising of the sun, though it does begin to crest the horizon. It is something innate within them that grows and brightens. Almost until it burns.

He gestures to Steve with a tilt of his head. “Patron to artists and carrier of justice.” His hand sweeps before himself as he steps forward, snaking his arm back around my waist. “I shoulder free will and aid lost souls.”

I do not need to speak the words aloud. Though they sit, perched on the tip of my tongue. Instead, the Soldier sees them in my terrified gaze and nudges my chin with one of his fingers. But my head shakes and shakes and shakes, denial coursing through me.

“Will you come with us now?” Steve asks, stepping forward, a hopeful tilt to his brow. He reaches forward and gently grasps my arm, lifting it until my wrist sits within his grasp and he can brush his lips across the skin of my hand.

“Or must we extinguish this whole place?” Bucky inquires, whispering into my ear with a glance sent toward the people standing by the bar.

I swallow, heart stuttering in my chest and heave a deep breath. “I will go with you,” I reply around the lump in my throat.

In the Land Beyond the River, where the gods reside, time moves differently. Every morning I wake to a new day, full of luxury and leisure. Yet every night it is the night of my ruin.

Wandering hands, whispered words—over and over and over. My innocence taken from me again and again with the same affection and tenderness as the first night when I was stolen from The Broken Beast and found myself in the God’s Domain.

“Here, little blossom,” James coos, pressing a ripe fernberry to my lips, “taste this and let me savor it on your tongue.”

My teeth pierce the flesh, tears already welling in my eyes—waiting for the moment it comes. When he will brace himself on my thighs and sink into me. Juice dribbles down my chin, tilted back so that Steve might lap at the sweet nectar.

“You are divine, my sweet,” Steve sighs, fingers cradling my jaw and holding me steady.

Contorted as I am, I never ache—at least not for long. No matter how they may handle my body, my muscles never weaken and never tire. Instead, their ravenous embrace holds me tight until each is satisfied and I might drift away on pleasurable waves of respite.

“Say it,” James prompts, the same words every night.

I swallow around them, stuck behind my teeth. Though each night it gets easier and easier to say it, to confess and lay myself upon their mercy, to believe it with my whole heart. “I love you,” I say, repeating it like a chant, captured by Steve’s lips until they’re muffled in his kiss.

My thighs part wide, held by caring hands that smooth over the skin with a devoted reverence.

“And we love you,” James assures with a soft smile, “more than you will ever know.”

His member, thick and turgid, brushes against my delicate petals. My breath catches in my throat as it taps upon that sensational bundle of nerves.

Fingers ease his way, stretching me until my lips parts on a moaning gasp, the very core of me weeping for them both. Then, with a tilt of his hips, James begins the plunge. It stings, as it does every night. No amount of gentleness or preparation readying me for that initial thrust.

His hips rock against mine, furthering himself into me. Steve holds me secure, cradling me against his chest, keeping my legs wrapped over his, and my arms locked to my sides. He murmurs sweet sentiments into my ear until my mind turns hazy, dripping with their syrupy honey.

“That’s it. I’ve got you,” he coos in my ear, “our most precious girl.”

“Yes,” I moan as James stills, the sting of his length accompanied by an all-encompassing hunger. The longer he remains dormant within me, the more ravenous it grows.

James presses a kiss to my cheek, lips drawn in a smile. “Right where you belong.” He grasps my chin with sticky fingers, tongue licking into my mouth and tasting the sweet fruit and passion that coats my palate. He hums and consumes.

And I let him, reveling in it. Aching for it.

How many days have passed thus, I cannot count. Each as steady as the way James plunders me. His hips striking against mine in his fervor. He chases our ecstasy and drags me with him until we plummet into bliss. And Steve does the same. Maneuvering my body to his whims. His tender attentions guiding me until I fall again and again. Until no thought lingers in my mind, but of them. Not the slickness of the sweat on our bodies nor the coolness of the silk cushions. Not the brilliant moon lighting the horizon nor the crash of the river upon its shore.

Just them. Always them.

read more of The Avengers Pantheon at The Undone and the Divine

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #medieval au #polytheistic au #mythology au #the avengers pantheon #dark #dark fic #tw dub con #dub con #yandere vibes #smut #heed the warning #18+#minors dni

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Note

I know i suck at drawing but i couldnt describe it with words

Red one is Steve and blue is bucky

They want you to decide who you will be facing (v) and who will get the back view (a) while you are riding them

Also my internet connection is stable right now, i couldnt be happier, get ready to get spammed

I'm glad the connection is stable right now, lovely! And I love this drawing!❤️

As far as who gets which view, both would be very appreciative no matter which view they get. I feel like 40s!Bucky would love watching your ass bounce as you take them, lightly smacking your cheeks to get a reaction out of you. God, pre-serum!Steve trying to breathe as he pushes his face against your chest. He'd happily go out that way if he could.

The soft part of me after Bucky is free, he craves eye contact with you and would prefer you facing him. Post-serum Steve is fine with that. It gives him a chance to palm your perfect ass, both of them praising you for taking them so well. Who wouldn't want to be the middle of that super soldier sandwich?

Why isn't this my life? 🔥

Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat answers #fuel for thots #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #stucky x reader #why isn't this my life?#yandere stories #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

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imsonick · 2 years

Text

Imagine...

You are lady in waiting to queen Sarah in time when the king dies and New Kings Stucky are coming from they provinces to take over the throne. They have mistresses- but the queen dowager does not approve of them.

Suddenly you catch eyes of both of them with a little machination by the queen- she just want you to marry her sons.

But you are not so willing as the Kings would like, so it gets a little darkish...😈

#stucky #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #fanfiction #yandere steve rogers #yandere bucky barnes #dark stucky x reader #dark stucky #yandere avengers #medieval au #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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ametrictonofaudacity · 11 months

Note

Hey do you have a masterlist?

I do not currently because I don’t have a lot of posts but I can make one!

DC Works!

Bat family Works

Gaps Series (Yandere Platonic Batfam and Mentally Ill/ Forgetful Reader)

Gaps 1

Gaps 2

Gaps 3

Gaps 4

Gaps Interlude 1

Gaps Interlude 2

Bonds Series (Yandere Platonic Batfam and Trans Masc Reader

Bonds 1

Asks

Yandere Platonic Batfamily and Marvel Crossover Reader whos like Laura from X-Men

Yandere Platonic Batfamily and Spiderverse Reader

Yandere Platonic Batfam and a Reader who barricades themselves in the room

Yandere Platonic Batfam and sick Reader

Joker

Yandere Platonic Joker and nihilistic college reader as best friend part 1

Part two to nihilistic reader

Superfamily

Yandere Fatherly Superman Scenerio

How yandere father Superman would punish reader if they tried to escape snippet

Headcanons for meeting Ma and Pa Kent and Lois (non-yanderes with platonic yandere Superman)

Yandere Platonic Superman with Readers with Powers Scenerio

Lois reacting to Alternate Marvel Reader going to Vanessa for comfort ask

Yandere Platonic Superman ask

Castlevania

Yandere Platonic Trevor Belmont and shape shifter reader who is selectively mute

Marvel Works

Yandere Platonic Stucky and Telekinetic Reader

Yandere Platonic Daredevil and Empathic Reader

Transformers Works

Which continuities I write for

Star Wars Works

Yandere Platonic Anakin Skywalker and Force Sensitive Reader

#masterlist #my works #yandere dc #yandere marvel #yandere castlevania #yandere star wars

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nekoannie-chan · 2 months

Text

Week 6 Reblog Masterlist

}Welcome to Week 6 2024 or Week 214, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my February reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 5 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 7 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 6 2024:

Idiots in love (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @moonvis 💚💙

Favourite food (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @buckys-wintersoldier 💚💙

I know where I belong part 8 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💚

Ghosts of the past (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @the-soot-sprit💙

The right size (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bolontiku 💚

For the longest time (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @dem-obscure-imagines 💚

Will jilted (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sarahowritesostucky 💚

Ever present shadow (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @the-soot-sprit💙

Never pegged you for a deviant (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @androidsalienswizards❤️

Jilted part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sarahowritesostucky ❤️

Epilogue (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @the-soot-sprit💙

Are we still for (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @intrepidacious 💚

Blackberry (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mariaxxxxx❤️

I want to go down (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @howlingscarlet❤️

Jilted part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sarahowritesostucky ❤️

The spectre of hope (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @the-soot-sprit💙

Mission 100 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sebastianstanisahotmf💙

Imagine by @moonlit-imagines💙

Yandere Steve alphabet (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @yanderemcu 💚💙❤️

Wonderstruck chapter 11 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @messedupfan💚

Trust (Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @kgficz💙

Let me in (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @happy74827💙

Dashing through the snow (Brock Rumlow X Reader) by @e-dubbc11💚

Back and forth part 4.1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @anika-ann 💙

Worth to wait (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stargazingfangirl18❤️

Back in time (Logan Howlett X Reader) by @kgficz💙

Drip (Stucky X Reader) by @biteofcherry❤️

Unbreakable chapter 8 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @crazyunsexycool 💚💙

#Annie recommends #Week 6 Reblog masterlist

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untitled-writer-013 · 2 years

Note

Hi ! I wanted to tell you that I love what you write before asking anything, don’t forget to stay healthy too !

So for my request, how would Yandere!Stucky (poly) and Yandere!Loki Laufeyson would react to having a reader that likes hiding their mouth and noses with plushies or any kind of stuff ? For example when they hug reader will move their arm to have the lower part of their face hidden.

Yandere!Stucky, Yandere!Loki Laufeyson x GN!Reader (S/O hides face HCs)

warning(s): yandere themes, mentions of blood, hints of murder / violence, three very loving yanderes, overall wholesome.

- Steve and Bucky had fallen in love with you even more once they noticed just how often you did this. They hugged you after giving you a compliment? You would hide your face against them. They praised you for all of the hard work you had done? You were hiding your face with your sleeves.

- Whenever Steve or Bucky noticed this, they would either tease you for doing it, or they would cover the upper half of your face in kisses while holding you.

- Now, if Bucky or Steve caught someone else teasing you for doing this, you can bet that same person will end up missing. After all, they had disrespected you and your wonderful little quirks.

- These super soldiers wouldn’t let anyone make you feel ashamed for wanting to hide your face, and they would make sure that you weren’t hiding your face because you felt self conscious.

- If that was the case, they would reassure you that you are absolutely perfect in their eyes, and that you have nothing to be ashamed of.

- Loki hadn’t noticed this little behavior of yours at first, sometimes thinking you were wiping something off your face when you hid behind your hands. But eventually, he noticed you did this a lot, almost all of the time.

- He confirmed this common behavior when you hid your face against his chest as he held you, making his heart warm as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

- Now that the mischievous god had this information, he would playfully tease you, just to watch you hide your face in a pillow as it turned a bright red. Sometimes, he would cover your face in kisses until you would try and hide your face, only to quickly move whatever was hiding that pretty face of yours out of the way and press a kiss to your lips.

- He knew that it was a harmless habit of yours, and sometimes you did it in public, which of course he didn’t mind. But if someone were to try and shame you for it, he would quickly make them regret ever daring to look at you. Afterwards, he would be grateful that your face was hidden by your stuffed animal when he got home, not wanting you to spot the blood he was covered in.

- In his more vulnerable moments, while he may be cooking or washing the dishes, he would feel you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face against his back while gently holding him. He would sweetly smile to himself, placing a free hand on top of yours as he continued what he was doing.

~fin~

author’s note: oh my goodness, thank you so much for the sweet note! this warmed my heart and made my day. i’m so glad you enjoy my writing, and i appreciate the love and support from you and the rest of my readers. thank you everyone for supporting me and my writing, and for 339 followers! sincerely, i thank all of you. feel free to send more requests, messages, anything you’d like. interacting with my followers always makes me happy. <33

#Yandere Stucky #yandere stucky #yandere stucky x reader #yandere loki #loki laufeyson #yandere bucky barnes #yandere steve rogers #yandere marvel x reader #yandere loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #yandere loki x reader #original writing #taking requests #yandere marvel

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

Text

Masterlist 1

Emoji Guide

Dark themes = 🖤

Smut = ❤️

Find masterlist 2 here

Marvel

-Steve Rogers

An understanding between artists

Steve is in love with the male reader and outed

Police officer Steve Rogers x male reader

-Bucky Barnes

Werewolf Bucky x vampire male reader

“Can you please come get me?” drabble

“You’re gonna be okay, baby, just breathe. It’s all going to be fine.” Drabble

Bucky Barnes with a male reader who has a prosthetic arm

Bucky Barnes with a male reader who likes pastel and sanrio

-Poly Stucky

Relaxing on a snowy morning part 1

A snowy evening (Relaxing on a snowy morning part 2)

Party of one, two, three? (ftm reader) part 1

Party of one, two, three? (ftm reader) part 2

Poly Stucky x shapeshifter male reader who turns into a wolf pup

-Tony Stark

Tony Stark x Ftm teen reader

Tony Stark x top rival male reader

-Loki Laufeyson

Loki x Tank/Healer male reader

-Moon Knight (Marc, Steven and Jake)

Marc and Steven being comforted by the reader after being yelled at

Shower fun with Marc❤️

Khonshu x ftm reader

Steven Grant x Monster/Non human male reader

Sub Jake Lockley x Dom male reader (scent and Collar)❤️

Jake Lockley x ftm reader❤️

Sub Jake Lockey x Dom reader, Alleyway❤️

Moonboys with male reader who says the safeword

Moonboys x ftm reader who was harrassed for being gay and trans

Moonboys with a flirty male reader and how he flusters them

Moonboys with a tall and buff male reader

Steven Grant venting to his boyfriend

-multiple

Nine realm headcanons

Bucky and Loki x Oblivious male reader

Avengers forgetting about your anniversary

Marvel x Eldritch horror male reader

Marvel Characters reacting to reader suprise hugging them

-Dick Grayson

Lazy-day

Dick Grayson x male reader meeting at a gala part 1

Dick Grayson x Male reader meeting at a gala part 2

Dick Grayson x male reader, undercover❤️

Dick Grayson x ftm reader who is dysphoric

Dick Grayson x Possesive dom male reader❤️

Dick Grayson x former circus performer male reader

Dick Grayson nsfw alphabet❤️

Dick Grayson with a ftm reader whos been deadnamed and misgendered on purpose

Dick Grayson being brought into subspace by the reader with sparring❤️(ish?)

-Jason Todd

Sub Jason Todd x Dom Older vigilante male reader❤️

Sub Jason Todd x Dom Older vigilante male reader part 2❤️

Sub Jason Todd x Dom male reader, desperate for each others touch❤️

Jason Todd nsfw alphabet❤️

Jason Todd being insecure about his appearence with an artist reader

Jason having flashbacks as the reader stitches him up

Jason with a male reader whos older and is like his sugar daddy ❤️

-Tim Drake

Tim Drake trying to flirt with a Tiefling reader but he has no idea how

-Damian Wayne

Damian Wayne and speedster male reader who he hates but starts to like

-Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne nsfw alphabet❤️

-Klarion

Klarion x young justice hero male reader

-Edward Nashton/The Riddler (2022)

Reader comforts Edward when hes working

Edward and the reader are obsessed with each other

Edward x male reader whos a huge romantic

Reader tries to figure out who the Riddler is part 1

Reader tries to figure out who the Riddler is part 2🖤

Top Edward x Bottom male reader, who met at Arkham❤️

-Bruce Wayne/Batman (2022)

Bruce x Male reader who is big and intimidating, but a softy

Bruce x Detective male reader

Sub Bruce x dom male reader❤️

-Hal Jordan

Hal Jordan nsfw alphabet❤️

Ftm Hal Jordan with a Ftm reader ❤️

Hal Jordan with subspace, edging under a weighted blanket ❤️

Hal Jordan and the reader having enough of him putting himself down ❤️

-Barry Allen

Barry Allen nsfw alphabet❤️

-Wally West

Bottom Wally West x Top Kryptonian male reader❤️

-Clark Kent

Clark Kent nsfw alphabet❤️

yandere Clark Kent nsfw alphabet ❤️

-Conner Kent/Kon-el

Conner Kent/Kon-el with a ftm reader

Conner Kent/Kon-el nsfw alphabet ❤️

Conner Kent/Kon-el loving the readers scent and stealing their hoodies

Conner Kent/Kon-el x kryptonian male reader ❤️

Conner kent/Kon-el cuddling with the reader for the first time

-Kaldur'ahm

Kaldur'ahm x alien male reader

-Joker

Joker x ftm reader

Ledger!Joker taking care of the sick reader

-multiple

Batson headcanons

Batsons x ftm reader

Batsons x Himbo ftm reader

Batfam x Unlucky male reader part 1

Batfam x Unlucky male reader part 2

Batfam x Unlucky male reader part 3

Batman/fam being determined to adopt a criminal/vigilante reader

Batboys throwing eachother around as bonding

DC characters and what kind of yandere i think they would be

Batsons with an autistic reader who mirrors them

The Boys

-Homelander/John Gillman

Homelander being spanked by dom reader ❤️

Fight Club

-Tyler Durden and the Narrator

The Narrator is extremely in love with the male reader who also catches Tylers attention

Slashers

-Billy Lenz

Billy Lenz x male reader headcanons

-Poly Ghostface

Handsome Devil part 1 (slasher male reader)🖤

Handsome devil part 2 (slasher male reader)🖤

Poly ghostface x himbo reader part 1

Poly ghostface x himbo reader part 2

Poly ghostface x autistic male reader

Poly ghsotface with a reader whos in denial about their sexuality

Poly ghostface x metalhead reader with a personality similar to Stu

Poly ghostface x reader whos fascinated by gore and blood

-Brahms Heelshire

Brahms Heelshire x protective male reader

Brahms Heelshire being comforted by male reader

Cuddling Brahms after a rough day

-Michael Myers

Michael Myers x himbo reader

Yandere Corey Cunningham and Michael Myers x male reader

Michael Myers with a voice kink ❤️

-Thomas Hewitt

Thomas Hewitt sfw alphabet

-Corey Cunningham

Corey Cunningham x slasher male reader who replaces Michael 🖤

Yandere Corey Cunningham and Michael Myers x male reader

Corey Cunningham comforting an overstimulated reader

-multiple

Slashers x male reader who is insecure about their thighs

Slashers with an s/o who vapes

Slashers and a weirdly strong male reader who keeps beating them

Slashers being given a flowercrown

Michael Myers and Brahms Heelshire with petplay

Jason Voorhees and Pyramid head with violent hide and seek

Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers and Pyramid head Proposing

Dead by Daylight

-Evan Macmillan (The Trapper)

Evan Macmillan sfw and nsfw alphabet❤️

-multiple

Frank Morrison and Danny “Jed Olsen” Johsen with a s/o whos built like a brick house

Evan Macmillan, Jason Voorhees and Bubba sawyer bottoming for the first time

Star Wars

-Din Djarin

Keldabe

Din x Tall tanker male reader who is secretly a softy

Din Djarin x Flirty bounty hunter male reader

Din Djarin x Stoic male reader

Din Djarin nsfw alphabet❤️

-Poly Bobadin

Riduur

-Anakin Skywalker

Anakin skywalker x ftm reader

Padawan Anakin Skywalker x Touchy male reader

Anakin comforting reader who was tortured and has night terrors

Anakin x Jedi male reader who is Plo Koons padawan

Sub Anakin x Dom male reader who is scared of intimacy, plus handcuffs❤️

Anakin with a ftm reader who has dysphoria

Padawan Anakin and a father figure male reader who falls in love with Shmi

-Luke Skywalker

Luke Skywalker x Shapeshifter male reader

-multiple

Clonetroopers x ftm reader

Anakin, Darth Vader, Obi wan and Cody, overall headcanons

Deaged star wars ocs

Fnaf

-Montgomery Gator

Vending Machine Mechanic

Monty x tiny male reader

-multiple

How the security breach cast would help the reader instead of freddy

Security breach cast x animatronic male reader

Harry Potter

-George Weasley

George Weasley x slythering male reader

Solo Leveling

-Sung Jin Woo

Sung Jin Woo x childhood friend male reader

One punch man

-multiple

Saitama and Genos relationship headcanons

Pokemon

-Guzma

Guzma with a stoic reader who has a centiskortch

-multiple

Team star bosses with a reader who is the leader and a psychic type user

Rick and Morty

-Rick Sanchez

Rick Sanchez (C-137) being flirted with

Rick Sanchez (C-137) with a ftm reader with autism

Call of Duty

-Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost with a short male reader who is underestimated because of his height

Ghost with knifeplay ❤️

Ghost with knifeplay part 2 (theres actually no knives in this one)

Ghost with a reader whos bigger and scarier than himself

-Multiple

Call of Duty characters being fucked while being interrogated ❤️

Alejandro, Soap and König with a tall feminine male reader

Ghost and Soap with a himbo reader who is submissive and breedable ❤️

John, Alejandro,Gaz and König finding their partner asleep with animals.

Soap, Ghost, Rudy and König with a partner on the autism spectrum who copies their accent

Rudy, Alejandro and Price as biology teachers

Rudy, Alejandro and Price with an s/o whos a biology teacher

141 with a male reader who owns a huge wolf

Alejandro, Rudy and Soap with a flirty reader who speaks multiple languages

Ghost and König with a big chested male reader

Call of duty characters with a reader whos tongue tied and fumbles to speak

How the team reacts to ghost having a husband with colored hair and stretched ears

Ghost, Price, Alejandro, König, Gaz and Rudy with a male reader with long hair

141 with an older reader who still moves like a 20 year old they gush over

Cod characters with a male reader who has thick thighs and stretch marks

Cod characters reacting to meeting Prices husband

Cod characters with a male reader with a very low spice tolerance

#masterlist #male reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanon #dc imagine #dc headcanon #star wars imagine #star wars headcanon #slasher imagine #slasher headcanon #Rick and morty headcanon #rick and morty imagine #one punch man headcanon #one punch man imagine #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling headcanon #call of duty imagine #call of duty headcanon

927 notes · View notes

atlasscrumpit · 1 year

Text

Yandere Masterlist

Moon Knight

Marc/Steven x reader - Sick

M/S/J x Reader - Punishment

Part 2 ^

MarcSteven

Part 2 ^

Forced Age Regression

Arthur x reader

You belong here

Part 2 ^

JakeSteven

We’re saving you

Part 2 ^

NSFW

M/S/J x reader

A few more bites

Cold reminders

Part 2 ^

Lessons in obedience

MarcStevenJake

Part 2 ^

Window

Marc x reader

No matter how hard it gets

You can’t leave

Platonic Yandere

You need to learn

Platonic yandere (2)

I can’t let you go

Never again

MarcStevenJake

Nerves and burns

Good behaviour

Insomnia

Play Along

Moon dads

You love us

Don’t ever think that

Shot

Not like this

To make you stay

He won't hurt you

No more running

MarcStevenJake

Around your wrists

NSFW

Run, run away

Jealously

Affection

NSFW

Surprised

Give up control

Four player game

Cereal

Five’s a crowd

Shock

Protection from the moon

Dorm room

A little too far

Welcome home

A nice long sleep

Home time

Obedience

Avengers

Avengers x reader part 2

Steve Rogers x reader

Stucky x reader

Bucky x reader

Steve/Bucky x reader

Yandere Avengers

Yandere Loki

The Mandalorian

Din x reader

#masterlist #yandere #moon knight #marvel #avengers #yandere avengers #yandere moon knight #fic

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p3sephone · 2 years

Text

No Way Out Masterlist. (Dark! Steve Rogers)

Status: on going.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

#dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky x reader #dark stucky #dark steve x reader #dark steve #dark! steve rogers #dark! bucky barnes #dark stucky x reader #dark! stucky #yandere steve rogers #yandere bucky barnes #dark marvel #dark avengers #dark marvel x reader #dark avengers x reader #dark steve rogers serie

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Text

working on it

main masterlist

this is a list of all my wips (including requests) so we can all be on the same page in regards to what i have coming up 🖤

*these aren’t in any particular order - as you guys know, i write what i have inspiration to write and not in order of when requests were received or series were updated.* if you don't see your request on here, and did not get a response from me letting you know i'd be unable to write it, then i didn't receive it. feel free to send it in again if you'd like.

i saw @sweetpeapod’s “to do list” and it’s such a great idea i literally never would’ve thought to make one myself so all credit to her for this! 🥰

updated: 06/06/23

legend: actively writing • on hold/writer’s block • haven’t started

series

bucky barnes:

if i could - chapter five

keeping secrets - chapter seven

stucky:

trust me - chapter two

drabbles, one shots or continuations (not series)

andy barber:

waiting - pt 2

dark!professor andy

bucky barnes:

soft!dark bucky - basement wife

dark!brat tamer bucky

you can’t - pt 2

dark!ex bucky - pregnant reader (might not end up dark lolll)

when a stranger calls bucky

yandere mechanic bucky

“enemies” to lovers bucky

iou - pt 2…possible miniseries

enemies to lovers - one bed trope

die happy - chubby!reader

first time for everything - drabble

call it what you want to - pt 2

mean!bucky one shot

duke!bucky x duchess!reader (soft!dark?)

pro wrestler!bucky

charles blackwood:

dark!charles halloween fic

lee bodecker:

dark!lee - traveling!reader

dark!lee - salem witch trial

lloyd hansen:

ransom drysdale:

delivery - one shot

mean!ransom one shot

nick fowler:

dark!nick - daddy’s dead - one shot

steve kemp:

steve rogers:

mean!steve one shot

stucky:

dark! road trip fic (two stories in one/choose your own adventure)

royalty au

fumbling - drabble

fawn - pt 2

requests

humble request to the queen of my lil dark heart for your sluttiest a/b/o with your man of choice inspired by ‘hurt you’ by the weeknd 🖤

bucky barnes:

request/imagine: mafia bucky x reader where bucky is very obviously obsessed/infatuated with the reader and just wants her to be his but she plays hard to get (for some time) and starts hanging out with other men so he gets jealous and punishes her (smut if you want with degradation/humiliation kink idk💀) very new to tumblr so idk if im doing this right or not. thank you! 💘

Dearie write some angry seggs with Bucky barnes

Scenario 5 10 17 22 please & Dialogue prompts 32 and 38 please with bucky 😭 he’s a total grinch throughout but seeing the reader happy makes him happy and I love the grumpy x sunshine trope🤤😮‍💨

Hey yo! I'm not sure if you're still accepting Christmas prompts or anything (I've absolutely loved reading them) But I've been listening to this song on repeat and idk, I can just imagine the reader singing it to Buck on their first christmas together, and him falling even more in love with them. Anywho, happy holidays, can't wait to read anything and everything you bless us all with 🥰❤️🎄

What would have happened in a AU version of your dark biker Bucky finding his soulmate finally…and also meeting her husband?

What if the reader had a really toxic husband who wouldn’t let her go or let their divorce proceed unless she cheated on him? Only the man she picks for her affair, Bucky Barnes, is WAY worse than her husband and she doesn’t realize until it’s too late? (No idea though if this is like a mobster Bucky or Winter Solider or some other profession)

a bucky fic of any length based on this text exchange with my husband (who’s deployed) ((i’m the red bubble lol)) 🥹 you work is magic so i trust however you wanna take this

Bellllaaaaa hiiii:) I’m hooked on biker/bartender bucky(even tattoo artist bucky) with fucking Tats right now and I’d totally love if you could maybe write him and chubby/plus sized reader having a flirty relationship, maybe they’re like a fling or something. She works at his bar/tattoo shop, whichever au you pick, and they’re just fucking flirty and so naughty together lol. Smut is always welcomed!! Thank u bby in advance<3 mwahhh🥺💋

Was curious if you could do a TFAWS Bucky request? Reader is a curvy plus size gal, and Sam has been trying and trying to get Bucky to ask her out. Then one day, he finds her really upset and self conscious… He finally lets his true feelings show, trying to make her feel better… maybe it turns into more? 👀🥰 Like…. ‘Let me just show you how beautiful you are..’ kinda thing lol. I really hope that made sense ☠️☠️

charles blackwood:

Hello there I want to ask... Do you still write Charles blackwood x reader fanfic? It has to be very romantic but very naughty. Charles being very sexy and dominating. It is also the reader's very first time with him too. Can it include a photo of Charles as well? Thanks x

max burnett:

Hi can I request a max Burnett x plus!size reader.

nick fowler:

Okay, speaking of thots, having the Nick Fowler says something sexy in Romanian and leaves gifs back-to-back with the 'no, I'm not okay; I should be sucking his dick rn" thot was— 🥵 Think you could combine those two into a little (or big, would not complain 😉) something something? 😘🤍 👉🏻👈🏻

I’m reading a book about the history evolution of dating, and it has this section on sugar daddies and babies. Apparently a lot of sugar babies are warned not to fall for their daddies, but the women report that usually it’s the other way around and the men fall for them. So what about a soft dark mafia Nick who quickly gets obsessed with his sugar baby reader? He just get more intense the more she denies an emotion connection because it’s just bad business on her end.

pwyc! bucky:

Hi I loved your Pretty when you cry series read it twice already and you did a amazing job 🥰 I was wondering if you could write the reader from that series being catcalled by some creep and dark biker Bucky witnesses it and completely losing it and defending her and maybe it ends with some fluff I hope you have a lovely day or night ❤️

OK maybe After Reading your Dark Soulmate Story I want/need more 😁 So I was thinking about Bucky and the Curvy Reader. Was there ever a time when Bucky Breaks down and cry? Like, He is so Hurt that he is Not Angry but gets really sad? How would the Reader react? How would Bucky himself react? Thanks again For creating These two and thank you For your time🖤 i Love them.

Hi Bella! So you’re my fav tumblr writer and I’m never gonna get over pwyc cause it’s pretty fucking amazing, and I don’t know if you’re taking requests for drabbles or anything like that, but I thought I might as well ask! So imagine that Bucky and Y/N have been living together for a while and things have been great, but Bucky is thinking of proposing, but Y/N is so not ready to get married or have kids, and her and Bucky get into a huge fight over it, and maybe she briefly moves out, and Bucky is basically lost but like also super angry cause we all know he doesn’t take rejection too well, but in the end they make up and by that I mean smut, and you can decide if they get engaged or not, but yeah that’s basically it

Hi! I love pwyc so much then when i saw the new trust series was from you I did a little happy dance! I was wondering if i could request a little drabble of what would happen if reader found out she was pregant and how biker Bucky would react? If not no pressure honestly love all your fics thanks for sharing them with us!

Belllllllaaaaa I have a request to make for pwyc series💕❤️ Imagine bucky getting possessive and jealous of readers coworkers, the reader trying to escape when he thought they were finally getting somewhere in their relationship…..😬😬 would he be angry or upset just love feral bucky 🫣😭🥵

Pwyc reader having nightmare about that night Bucky raped her. While dark!pwyc Bucky is sleeping right next to her. So reader started crying in her sleep,tears and all (cause that's what she does best) from the nightmare with him in it and woke Bucky up. Bucky can tell what it was about and started to soothe her nightmares the only way his perverted ass knows how. He started nuzzling and kissing her neck all over and kiss all her all over her face including her lips,eyes and her tears away while his hands roam all over her body to wake her up. Reader woke up still crying and Bucky ended up giving her the most gentlest (?),angsty or passionate sex? Idk,it doesn't have to be gentle. Just like really angsty and passionate in a really pwyc dark!Bucky way to show reader he's her only choice no matter what so she just gonna learn how to love him and get over her fear and nigthmare with the fear and nightmare himself. And maybe some angsty stomach flipping aftercare afterwards. Dark! request ofc. This can be during pwyc or after pywc,it's up to you. Reader being a crybaby makes this fic special to me :,D Been looking for a pic like this. Thank you so much and sorry if my English sucks a lil. I try. Tysm again 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hiii Bella!! I love your writing so much, you're very talented 😍 I found the pwyc series about three days ago and I've read it twice 😅 I wasn't that productive at work ig 🤣 as a curvy girl myself who falls very close into the description of the reader/soulmate who loves Bucky, I felt very satisfied. So... I'm rubbish at requests but I thought I would like to ask for something and it's nice that you're kind and understanding so I don't feel too anxious about doing so 👀 so... what about reader going out shopping a dress for an occasion (idk what exactly, something formal-ish ig... a birthday party/dinner maybe?) and the shop assistants make her feel bad by saying things like "we don't have clothes in that big of a size, miss" or "this doesn't suit your fat thighs/stomach" (this has happened a lot to me, unfortunately)? And she gets home sad and spends all week self-loathing and insecure, wearing very baggy clothes and starving herself and pwyc bucky doesn't exactly get what's going on because she doesn't want to discuss it but he feels how down she feels and worries. Then he hears her explaining the experience to eva and he becomes a man on a mission. He has one thing in mind; to shower her with compliments, sweet nothings and have beautiful, passionate and rough sex with her 😏 (and also decides to punch whoever said sh*t about his girl). Thank youuu 💜💜 P.S. Sorry if this was too long☺️

hiii so i just thought of pwyc fluff (bc i love two hopeless romantics) so uhhh what if reader gives bucky a pet name? calls him "love" in front of his friends and bucky just melts and swoons

I just want pwyc reader and bucky to have kids 🫣😬😂 it would be so unexpected and I’m sure bucky would be super excited even if the news comes out of the blue 🥺🥺💕💕 it would be so funny though 😂😂

Just finished your dark soulmate Bucky fic-absolutely loved it, stayed up WAY too late reading it because I couldn’t stop. I was wondering if kids are ever discussed between them? I feel like no for both of them because Bucky seems too greedy to share the reader/lose time with her and I don’t know if the reader would really want babies with him after their start, even if she’s forgiven him. But I do wonder what would happen to Bucky’s mindset-does having a daughter make him realize any new aspects of what he did? Does a son make him worry about raising a man who could do what Bucky did to his own soulmate?

I have a pwyc prompt! Reader borrows Bucky’s beloved car as hers is in his shop. He tells her to be careful as it’s his baby. She misjudges a turn and wrecks it, only gets minor cuts/bruises but goes hospital to get checked out in case concussion. She doesn’t want to see bucky - freaking out about seeing him and admitting she crashed his baby but of course his main worries lie with someone else’s welfare!

what if reader wasn't bucky's soulmate but he wants her anyway. (long request)

Sorry in advance if this is too indulgent even for fanfic, but would you be interested in a prompt where pwyc Bucky is thrilled that the reader is gaining weight? Either because he takes it as a sign that she’s happy so she eating more, they’re going out on fun dates and have delicious things to eat or they’re spending too much time together for her to work out, etc etc. but he’s super into it. And loves to show it, especially during moments when she’s upset about it? So it’s something positive instead of negative.

Hi Bella. Love your work and love that you write curvy/plus size reader as I’m a curvier girl myself. I was wondering if you could write a Drabble/fic with pwyc bucky worshipping/praising reader’s bigger body - maybe she’s having a bad self image day or similar and he kisses all of her curves and lumps/bumps because he genuinely adores her figure and also is very much turned on by her even if she sometimes worries his muscular frame would be better suited to smaller partners as he’s so in shape.

This but she hurts herself bad?🤔🥺

“You come across any other kinks you wanna try, you just let me know. You know I’ll do anything for you, pretty girl.” Hmm how about breeding kink combined with marking kink. I believe the possessive side of Bucky here would absolutely eat this up and be feral. Would love to see your take on this, but if you don’t want, that’s okay! Thank youuu! 🫶🏻

Hi Bella! I have an idea for a PWYC Drabble please don’t feel obligated to respond or make it. So today I was walking and some total jerks yelled out the window calling me fat. I wonder how Bucky would either comfort reader or handle it. I know you have something similar with your knight drabble. Thank you for all of the incredible work you’ve given us, this is my favorite series of all time— you’re a great writer. ♥️🥹

Hi! I’m a huge fan of PWYC and I was wondering if you thought about doing a pregnancy one shot, or multiple shots related to Bucky and reader starting a family? I’m curious how the dynamic would be considering how Bucky already acts towards reader and how he tends to be very loving but also on consistent watch over reader. If you don’t like the idea or aren’t interested that’s totally okay too!

steve rogers:

I would love to see a stalker Steve Rogers who thinks he’s “courting” you when he buys you presents off your (private) wishlists, takes care of chores around the house when you’re sleeping or away, has lunch delivered to your workplace for you, etc. (sure it’s scary and weird all these things are happening to you, but I would also like to come home to packages on my porch and my lawn mowed, you know?)

#bellasburdens #masterlist #my wips #nickfowlerrr

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