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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Shameless

Sequel to Graceless

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

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

Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson

Note: Here we are. The sequel but not the end.

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

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

Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖

The string of the glove’s seam trails loosely from the thumb. You twist the thread, playing with it, but doing little to mend it. Even with a needle in hand, you have no whim to darn. There are many things in life that cannot be repaired no matter how you try. Occurrences which cannot be taken back.

You pull at the seam until a hole forms in it. You poke your finger through with no heed for the glove’s integrity. You detest that pair anyhow. The very same you wore… that day.

Albina lays at the foot of the bed, her head bent back over the edge as she peruses one of her novellas. Hannah and Cora disappeared ages ago and you only just heard them through the windows. They are likely causing chaos in the gardens. You hope your mother finds them and issues a reprimand for their immaturity.

The autumn thins the air as it creeps in around the window frame and you smell that discerning scent of dirt and leaves. Only a week and it feels as if the whole world has changed seasons. Your world has transformed irrevocably.

There’s a clatter and you glance over as Albina rolls onto her side. She’s always hated to be disturbed amid her stories. She huffs and falls onto her back to begin again, but the door bursts open, your two other sisters tromping through with excitement.

Albina shuts her book loudly and sighs as she sits up. You go back to your exploration of the glove, watching the thread stretch along the seam as you tug. If only that were Cora. If only you could rent her pretty hair from her pretty head. Or in the least, swat the smug grin from her lips.

You can’t even look at her. It just makes you think of him. Of how stupid you’d been. You believed his promises were meant for you but it’s only as you relive that haunting episode every night that you realise, he never proclaimed his intent for you, only alluded to a vague offer. Another mean trick.

“Lord Rogers has sent a gift,” Cora trills as she stands at the vanity, shuffling something unseen before her. Hannah stands at her side, bouncing with anticipation.

“Oh, what do you think it is?” Hannah chimes.

“Could you not unveil it in the sunroom, where there is no one reading?” Albina says as she drags herself to the edge of the bed, resting her book on her skirts.

“Could you not get your head out of those ridiculous fancies,” Cora retorts over her shoulder, “if you ever do for long enough, you might just find a husband too.”

You don’t look up. You refuse to give her the satisfaction. You haven’t missed her wandering glances, how she taunts you without even a word. She turns back to her gift and rustles beneath the thick paper.

“Oh, heavens,” she swoons and spins, “isn’t it beautiful?”

“Are those rubies?” Hannah preens.

“I think.”

“Garnet?” Albina suggests.

“No, no, surely they are rubies,” Cora insists. “Do you see?” She swirls around the room closer to you, “I must find the perfect gown to wear with this. Oh, he would fawn to see me in his ribbon, wouldn’t he, sister?”

You grip the glove tight as her figure looms over you. With your other hand, you clutch the needle, letting it jab into your palm until your eyes prick. You nod, “very beautiful.”

You stand the moment you get the words free of your dry throat. You try to smile but can only muster a strained grimace. You try to step past Cora but she moves with you.

“You’ve not even looked,” she says, “how would know how beautiful it is?”

“Cora, please.”

“No, no, have a look. It’s so elegant, isn’t it?”

You clamp your lips together. Your insides tangle painfully. Even as the tenderness leaves the bruises in your thighs, you swear they hurt just as much as the day after. You sniff.

“Please, move out of my way,” you beg.

“Oh, sister, why must you be so dour? Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” you snarl. Jealousy. Oh, something much deeper, something agonizing. “I said move.”

“Move? Well, it looks like I am the first to wear a title so it is me who should be issuing the orders, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Cor, you are not duchess yet,” Albina reproaches, “let her pass.”

The heat rises up your back and crawls onto your neck. You feel like you’re suffocating. You feel like the walls are closer together, as if the world is hewn in fire. It is all burning down around you.

“She is being a sour little brat about it, Al,” Cora snaps, “it isn’t fair of her to ruin my engagement. I don’t know where she ever got the idea that Lord Rogers had any mind for h–”

You don’t think. You need to get out of here. You shove Cora out of your way and stomp past her as she gasps. You drop the glove as the needle sinks further into your palm. You sweep out of the door and hurry down the corridor. You hear her, whining pitifully as you flee.

“She shoved me! She–”

“Oh, you did goad her,” Albina’s quiet scolding follows you to the stairs, “put that ribbon away, you’ll only ruin it.”

Ruin…

The word clings to you as you barrel down the stairs, as if running from your own shame and anger. You love your sister, you would never wish anything horrid on her, but you can’t help that small whisper in your mind that suggests that Lord Rogers may just treat her as cruelly as he has done you.

💙

The autumn continues its slow advance, nipping in the air and at the foliage alike. You smell the crispness as it wafts through the open window of the carriage, cooling the cluster of bodies within. Your father rides with the driver, guffawing loudly with the clop of hooves. Your mother fans herself as she needles away with her relentless critique.

…Albina, push your shoulders back; Hannah, keep your lips shut tight, you don’t need horseflies wandering in; You, fix your bonnet, it is dipping at the front; Oh, Cora, isn’t that a lovely ribbon…

You try not to mope. The more you do, the more pleasure Cora takes in her victory. You will forget it, you will go on as you’ve ever done. Dejected. You fold one hand around the other, your palm tender from the bite of the needle still wrought into your flesh.

You look up as the carriage slows. The lush green of the promenade tinges with edges of russet and patches of goldenrod. Lords and ladies stroll along the brickwork walkway, skirts swishing around languid steps, arms hooked in one another, others perched upon benches or huddled around the grand fountain at the center.

Your father climbs down as the driver unlatches the door. Your mother emerges first, her fan clapping shut sharply and knocking against the frame. Cora is second, then Albina, Hannah, and yourself. You come out behind them and feel your height all the more. You hunch and grip your wrist tight.

“Do not slouch,” your mother looks back and raps your arm with her fan, “no lord wants to walk alongside a hobbling giant.”

“Yes, mother,” you correct yourself and let your vision drift off into a vacant blur.

“Ladies,” a familiar timbre approaches with a pair of footsteps, “you’ve arrived.”

You refuse to look at Lord Rogers as he stands just along your peripheral. He greets your mother with a cordial bow of his head and shakes your father’s hand. At last, he addresses his betrothed as she wiggles in her skirts and nearly squeaks.

“Lord Rogers,” she drawls, “I wore the rubies.”

“Beautiful,” he praises, “my lady, might I request a stroll upon the promenade?”

“Aye, you may,” your father answers, volunteering himself as escort.

“Sir,” Rogers accepts elegantly and offers his arm to Cora, “and perhaps a few more daughters might care to join us?”

“They will remain with me,” your mother insists, “we would like to see the roses.”

You wait until they’ve departed to dare a peek at them. Lord Rogers struts away confidently with his arm through Cora’s. Your father trails them with his brass-tipped cane. Your ribs rack as if they might collapse in on themselves.

“Come girls, the autumn will wilt away the roses,” your mother declares, “let us make our rounds, perhaps we might have two engagements this season, hm?”

You linger behind the others. You keep your head down as you watch the toes of your boots poke out from beneath your skirts with each step. Your led by the hem of your sisters ahead of you.

As you approach the hoop of rose bushes, there is an unexpected furor. Voices trill and flutter, a booming laugh that rolls like thunder. You raise your eyes and see a blond head above a cluster of hats. You don't recognise the lord amid the clan of amused men.

"How rowdy," your mother remarks in her curmudgeon way.

She ignores the pluck of glee for the thorny tangles. Hannah and Albina give longing looks to the uproar but dutifully accompany your mother to the hedges. The eldest of your quartet pets the paling pink petals and grieves the browning at the edges.

The dullness of that moment feels like a promise. This is how life will always be for someone like you. You will never know excitement, you will only ever be a witness, a scrap of collateral left to squander.

You pretend to admire the greenery. The colours are faded and worn. Just like everything since that night. As you are.

You smell the leaves and the pollen and you're taken back to that moonlit moment. The cool air on your skin, the friction of his figure, his weight trapping you on the stone.

The leaves mesh together in a tapestry of swirling hues. You quickly dab your eyes before your tears can spill over. Those bouts come suddenly and dry up just as soon. You cannot let it take you here.

An emptiness enshrines you and you peer over to find yourself all alone. Your sisters and your mother have left you, forgotten you. Not such an unexpected plight but painful nonetheless. You turn in search of them and nearly collide with another.

You press yourself to the bushes behind you and swallow a gasp, creaking out an apology.

"Apologies, my lord, I did not see you–"

"Lady," the man greets with a courteous dip of his chin, looking down at you. Down! He is even taller than you.

The same lord with the blond hair who had a crowd raucous. You do not know him. He is rather older than any courtly debut.

"You mustn't catch yourself," he reaches around you delicately and untangles a fold of your skirt from the thorny vines, "it is too fine a dress to tarnish."

"Thank you, sir, it seems I am a bit obtuse at the moment," you force a smile.

He is very handsome. He eyes a brighter shade than even Lord Rogers and his hair even more golden. That comparison urges you back to the ground. You are still you and you cannot be so foolish as to let yourself believe contrary ever again.

"Might I–"

"I spy–"

You speak at the same time and both correct yourself. You defer and touch your lips in embarrassment, "apologies, once more, I keep treading on your toes."

"I have tough toes," he japes, "I meant to ask if I might have your name."

"Oh, yes, sir," you give him your name, "I admit I am ignorant of your own identity."

"Ah, yes, I have come from far," he grins, "Lord Thor Odinson, of Asgard."

"Asgard, why that is very far," you comment, "well, sir, it was a delight to meet you. Welcome to our homeland."

"A privilege," he returns, "if I might be so forward, as I am a stranger to this land, I would extend to you an invitation to dinner as I acquaint myself with your country. Would that be too improper?"

"Sir," you flutter your fingers at your side as you stand awkwardly before him, "I would needs ask my father."

"Yes, certainly you would, as you are unwed," he says as if untwining a riddle, "I do hope you will be permitted."

"My lord," you bow your head, "my mother…"

You look past him to your mother's fan as she beckons to you with it. Lord Odinson steps aside and extends his arm in gallant dismissal. You shift to move past him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Allow me to thank you, lady, for entertaining my tedious conversation," he counters and you quickly flit away.

You near your mother as your other sisters crowd her. She is jibbering behind her fan, "...an ambassador," she says and snaps together the folds, "I hope you did not spoil our welcome."

"Mother?" You look at her in confusion, your cheek hot and tingling still.

"With that Lord, he did invite us to a dinner," she explains, "it would be very important for your father."

You shake your head. You don't argue. Ah, but the invitation was extended to all. Are you so foolish to think otherwise? You must shield yourself in the harsh lesson you've been taught. You are not and can never be special.

💙

The night of Lord Odinson's dinner arrives. You wear a gown of black patterned with deep green vines. Plain attire in contrast to Cora's shining scarlet silk, Alvina's buoyant blue bodice, and Hannah's deep rose sleeves. You add a simple beaded ribbon around your head, and a string of pearls around your neck.

"Dour," your mother remarks as she emerges in a tangerine satin, "ah, Cora, my darling, you look splendid. And to think, now that your engagement is public, you will be a pretty ornament on Lord Rogers' arm."

"Mother," she preens, averting her eyes in feigned modesty.

You clutch your reticule tight and glance over as you hear the approach of hooves. It is Lord Rogers' coach. The vehicle bustles towards the gates, open in expectation of him, and you look away. You can hardly bear the sight of red paint that decorates the doors.

His driver slows and breaks in the dirt. He greets your father as ever, gallant and proper. You put your teeth over your lower lip and peek up, catching the glint of Rogers' sapphire irises. His cheek dimples as his brows twitch. You swiftly rescind your gaze, favouring the dust on your slippers to him. He is as handsome as ever but to you, he is a vile cad. A demon clothed in cravat and vest.

He helps your mother first into the coach, then Cora, Hannah, Alvina, and finally yourself. He extends his gloved hand to you and you stare at his palm with disgust. You put your hand in his and step up into the vehicle. He squeezes before he lets go, a subtle tug on your skirt as you duck inside.

You sit on the bench between Albina and Hannah. You play with the strap of your reticule, focusing on it as you coil it like a snake. You only need to survive the journey to lord's manor. You've survived worse, and all at his hand.

💙

The manor is called The Nine Pillars, a rather strange name for a house, but referenced by the columns set into the stone walls. Each is topped with the facsimile of a different beast's head; a lion, a boar, a bear, a wolf, a falcon, a stallion, a bull, a viper, and an elephant. You lean over Albina to take it in, only to be nudged back to the middle.

You sigh and trail the part from the court. Attendants await your arrival at the broad steps of the manor house, the style much unlike that of the other courtly homes. The peak of the house resembles a warship overturned and the walls are without the typical white wash. It is very antiquated yet refined.

You enter the glowing hall, the glass lamps hung from the walls lit in an illuminating speckle. Voices carry from the drawing room where other guests gather and the bustle of the house staff flutters around the corridors and clamours from the kitchen. Your stole is taken by a groom and you nod in acknowledgement at his diligence. Your stomach swirls nervously.

The drawing room is a cluster of swishing skirts, flapping fans, and waggling coat tails. Your mother and father greet another older couple as your sisters disperse; Cora to show off her betrothed, Albina to whisper to Maria about her novels, and Hannah to gossip about the newest debuts. You find yourself lost before the sea of elegant figures.

You wade towards them, weaving between the bodies, looking around for any sense of welcome. Those who do see you, turn away quickly, as others pretend not to notice your towering form. You will find a place on the wall as you ever do.

"Lady," a deep voice calls but you don't bother to hear it. It cannot possibly be directed at you. It calls again, several times, before pronouncing your name. You spin to face Lord Odinson before you can retreat to your setinel against the wallpaper.

"My Lord," you greet him, "pardon me, there is much going on, I mustn't have heard you calling."

"Ah, but forgive me, it is rather uncouth to be shouting," he stops before you, "my mother always said I did blow in like a storm."

"Oh," you nod politely. You're not used to someone looking you in the eye, not without having to awkwardly contort your posture.

"She would like you, very much, I think."

"Why would you think that, my lord? You hardly know me."

"But I see you, a strong woman, built like a valkyrie. You are resilient and might I so forwardly say, resplendent."

"Sir?" You peer around, looking for an audience, for someone in collusion taking amusement from his false interest. It is always a trick.

"Again, I am the tempest, I cannot be subtle, not with a lady so stunning. Awe-inspiring. If I am the storm, you must be the sky," he remarks boldly.

You face him, a frown.

"Lady, it is a compliment," his face turns sober, "I hope I didn't overstep--"

"It is a joke. Who do you make laugh? For who am I the farce tonight?"

"Joke? Not at all. Never," he glances around the room. He is quiet as he takes in those around him. As he sees their elusive eyes and cold shoulders. "They cannot see what is right in front of them. A goddess--"

"No," you nearly sob, "no. I am not goddess." You bow your head, as you hear that same word from enough, a memory; Athena. "No sir," you put your chin up defiantly, "I will not be fooled by you."

"Fooled, my lady--"

"Excuse me," you shuffle away from him, "I need air..."

"Lady," he calls again but you elude him, delving into the crowd, marching away with head and shoulders down.

As you near the door, you hear a familiar laugh. You look to find Lord Rogers with Cora on his arm, his golden hair shining, her locks perfectly spiraled and set. He tilts his head towards her, "I call her my Athena," he says loudly, as if he knows you are listening, "for I worship her."

His eyes flick up and meet yours. You recoil and spin on your heel. Scalded, you flee into the hall and huddle into an alcove. No one would notice if you stayed out here all night.

💙

You sit among the guests at the table. The women chatter as the men speak in low voices about their business or some writ tabled in session that morning. You do neither as you're isolated in the fervor. As sherry and wine flows generously, you partake only of lemon water and loneliness.

You peer down the table and find yourself drawn to a pair of eyes. Lord Odinson. Where you expect tension or disappointment, you find only an amiable smile. He is almost dreamy as he watches you. You turn in your seat and look at Albina next to you, she's bent so far toward Hannah in her whispering that he likely cannot even see you.

You keep your gaze on the table. You will not encourage him. Lord Rogers taught you caution, he taught you your worth and not to think yourself above it. You feel suddenly sick, as if you could spew onto the table.

There is the clink of glass and someone clears their throat. The buzz around you hushes and all turn to the head of the table. You look over reluctantly. It is Lord Odinson, the host, about to make his toast. He stands, a crystal glass in hand.

"Welcome and thank you all for attending. You've all made me feel rather at home," he raises his glass and the guests mirror him. You lift yours a few seconds too late. He sets down the flute and continues, "and while you've all ingratiated me so kindly, I hope you might tolerate a little piece of my homeland."

He pauses and gestures to someone you can't see. A servant comes forward, holding a wooden box carved with symbols you don't recognise. Runes, perhaps.

"In my faith, there are the Valkyrie. They are the embodiment of female power and prestige and thus they are the keeper of our culture, of our ways. They are fertile and beautiful. So it is that each season, one lady is crowned as Valkyrie. I understand that I've come late but I am honoured to spend the season here, in your society. Thus, tonight has been more than a dinner..."

He stops as the servant opens the box. He takes out a crown of daisies wrought in gold and silver. He presents it to the room with a smile.

Cora leans forward as her eyes round in greed and the other women sit up, admiring the piece of jewelry and peeking at each other. You don't move, you stare at the wall and wait. You wonder who it will be. Maybe Cora or Maybelle and her doe eyes.

There is another lull, swollen with anticipation and intrigue. Lord Odinson gives a soft chuckle before he declares his valkyrie. No one speaks, none says a word. You blink. He speaks again.

You feel a nudge on your elbow as Albina leans towards you and whispers, "it's you."

You glance at her, then along the table. Cora's eyes are narrowed at you and Lord Rogers looks like he's chewing his own tongue. You turn your attention to Lord Odinson, trapped in surprise and disbelief.

"Yes, lady, please, come and claim your crown."

You grasp the arms of the chair and push it out as you rise. You walk stiffly, keenly aware of those watching you. You stride down the long table and near Lord Odinson. He faces you and hovers the crown over your head. You bow and he lowers it on, wiggling it to be sure it's firmly in place.

"It is I who shoulder defer to you, sweet lady," he lowers himself to a knee and bows his head, "our valkyrie."

The silence looms. You refuse to look back. You feel the stare, the disapproval, and disappointment. There's a clap and you flinch. Then another, and slowly the applause build.

Lord Odinson stands again and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your fingers. You meet his eyes, so intense you could melt.

"As I said," he keeps his timbre low, "it was not a joke."

💙

"Can I see it?" Albina asks as you go to set the crown on the narrow table.

"Oh, certainly," you turn to her. You're still burning with excitement. It's only one night, it doesn't mean anything, but it is a good night.

You hand her the crown and she takes it, admiring the craftwork with aw and showing it to Hannah as she nears. She places it on her head and rocks her shoulders.

"I am the valkyrie," she japes.

"No, I am the valkyrie," Hannah snatches the crown and dawns it.

"You are both children," Cora sneers as she shoves her ribbon of rubies into her jewelry box, "please, that lord is only here to pander to our king on his family's behalf. Nothing else."

"You're only jealous," Hannah rebukes.

"Am not," Cora stomps up and swipes the crown of daisies, "what would I need with a meaningless thing like this. Queen of what? The chimera? You don't even know what a valkyrie is."

"Nor do you," Hannah retorts.

"I do," Albina asserts, "they are an army of female warriors who lead the dead--"

"I do not give a fig," Cora flings the crown so it hits the bedframe and bounces off, "we don't believe in them here. That man is a fool."

"Oh, I saw you fawning over him, Cor," Albina goads, "don't lie. Rogers himself looked concerned."

"Fawning? Don't be silly."

You don't say a word as you go to fetch the crown from where it's fallen. You notice that one of the petals is bent out of shape. Oh, no.

"It's fine. She's right, it's just a silly crown."

"You all need to grow up," Cora insists, "as a woman soon to be married, I can see now how juvenile you lot are."

"Not married yet," Hannah snaps, "sooner the better if it means you're off."

"Charming, Hannah, I wonder why you've not had a proposal yet?"

Hannah waves her off with her hand and goes to Albina, "I'm tired. Help me out of my dress."

You turn away and set the crown on top of your own jewelry box. You take your time undoing the ribbon on your head and unclasping your pearls. You peel off your gloves and as you face the bed, you see Cora's hot glare.

"You'll see. That Lord Odinson will leave you behind and next season, you'll be on your way to a convent."

You swallow down her bitter words. Deep down, you don't doubt it. She is likely right but less than clairvoyant. You know better than any what your fate will be.

💙

You watch from the window as Cora walks in the gardens with Lord Rogers. Albina is in bed, moaning and rubbing her pelvis, as Hannah is downstairs with your mother stitching at her frame. The winds of autumn rattle the window frame and you back away, nervous to be caught observing.

You sit on the mattress and lean back against the pillow. Albina curls up on her side and faces you. You offer your hand and she latches on, squeezing. Her cramps have struck and she's already stained several shifts. Her blood has her in agony.

You don't mind keeping her company. Your own was due a week ago. You know because you've not stopped counting the days since... since Lord Rogers' proposal.

"I should hate to miss the promenade..." she mourns.

"You shouldn't miss very much," you assure her.

"Yes, but it will be cold soon. Too cold and it will snow and I will hate to go," she utters, "will you go?"

"Perhaps," you answer.

"And walk with Lord Odinson again?"

"If he wishes."

"I am certain he does. He is very friendly. Last night, when he told us of his families stronghold. About the mountains and the crossing rivers..."

"He has many stories," you agree, "and he tells them well."

"Oh, he does. He tells them for you."

"Pardon?" You nearly laugh.

"Sister, don't act clueless. He gave you his crown--"

"It was only a game."

"I do not think he plays."

"Why..."

"He always finds us on the promenade, doesn't he?"

"He is polite."

"Oh, you are stubborn."

You puff but don't argue further. She's wrong but she can't realise she is. She doesn't know what's happened, how you know for certain that he has no true intentions. That he cannot be any different than Lord Rogers.

💙

The hedges along the promenade are thinning. The roses have wilted away and the greenery curls and recedes. You wear a pair of lambskin gloves and an unlined cloak. It isn’t cold enough yet for fur.

As he does most days, Lord Rogers approaches to greet your family. Your mother and father bow to him briefly and bid their best before strolling off to meet with their peers. The betrothed couple will lead the way, as you walk behind with Hannah. Albina remains abed at home, her presence sorely missed as Hannah yawns and makes faces at the duke and his engaged.

You resist the urge to look around, to search for the man who crowned you valkyrie, the same who appeared at your side nearly every day. You restrained yourself from depending on his presence, from longing for it. He is a fleeting acquaintance, destined to return to Asgard one day. You shouldn't think so much of him.

“I wish we could have a summer wedding,” Lord Rogers declares, his voice raised loud enough for you to hear.

“But, my lord, that is so far away,” Cora protests, “so long as we wed before the snows, I will be content.”

“You, content. I am not mistaken, I know the sort of wife I’ve chosen,” he chides, “you only relish in that you might wear velvet.”

“Not at all my lord. I relish that I should marry you,” she preens, her arm hooked in his firmly.

You stare at the linking of their bodies. You remember the way he held you down, the way he cooed and coaxed, how he so softly coerced you. You should fear for your own sister, yet their misconceptions may be mutual.

“My ladies,” Lord Odinson’s voice precedes him and he steps up beside you, “and my lord. You are ashen, does the cold not agree with you?”

Lord Rogers glances over his shoulder, an edge in his jaw, “I handle it finely.”

You don’t mention he was only just longing for the summer. It isn’t any of your concern and you don’t very much care. Or you try not to.

“In Asgard, the winters, ah, they are splendid,” Odinson begins vibrantly, “there are days when the snow builds walls on its own and the next, they blow over to rippling oceans of frost. Endless and powdery.”

“Oh, we do not get so much snow here,” Hannah comments, “I don’t think I would survive such winters.”

You nod, listening intently as you picture the swirling snow and white dunes. It reminds you of a fairytale or a scene from one of Albina’s novels. Otherworldly and fantastical. Something entirely new and wonderful, but terrifying.

“And you, my valkyrie, would you face the blizzards?” Odinson challenges.

You hum thoughtfully. You know he is looking at you but you are too shy, too wary to return his gaze.

“I suppose with the proper cloak and a thick pair of boots, I might make it through, sir.”

“A coach and a horse, and any lady would say the same,” Rogers scoffs back at you, “girls hardly know the truth in matters of spirit. They can be overly presumptuous upon their own abilities.”

Odinson pushes his jacket back, hooking his finger in the pocket of his vest, “women are strong in ways men can never be. They carry lives, they bear the burden of the world, they maintain a grace lost on most men.”

“And the demure to the strength of men, to the wisdom they can never possess,” Rogers snaps back, laughing cruelly, “it is in the vows they take, is it not?”

“Only the strongest man can see the strength of women,” Odinson dismisses calmly, “my own mother keeps a pack of snow wolves. She goes out in the winter storms and reins her own sleigh. All while my father sits warm before his hearth. Her victories are not his losses.”

“Sounds rather quaint, Lord Odinson,” Rogers clucks, “your country strikes me as lacking civility.”

“Uncivil is a boring way of saying lively, and I promise, my home is much and more,” Odinson affirms, “but I think that fate has a way of placing us all where we belong, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rogers is quiet for a moment, his steps heavy as he strides on. He turns his head, his eye flicking between Odinson and yourself. He snorts and turns forward again.

“We must all take as we earn, accept what we do and do not get,” he says tritely, speaking animatedly with his hand in the air, “more often than not, we have only ourselves to thank… or blame.”

As cryptic as his words are, they are plain to you. That night with him was not unearned. Your foolishness bought your destruction. You must now live out your sentence of watching him walk arm in arm with another woman, your sister, everyday. You must accept that what he took can never be reclaimed.

💙

You sit in the garden, wrapped in a shawl as autumn breezes around the table. Your mother has a fur on her shoulders and your sisters chatter their teeth as they sip their tea. You rub your hands together, your gloves doing little against the crisp air. You suspect the days of dining without are close to done.

As you watch a leaf drift down from a branch, the hinges whine, and your father emerges from within. He gives an emphatic shiver as he claps his hands together. He seems rather pleases as he has his shoulders pushed back and his hat on a tilt.

"Daughters, my lovely wife, it is a beautiful day, is it not?"

You wonder at his uncharacteristic glee. Your father is ever practical and serious, on all matters. More so, he confounds as through the mutter of responses, he looks to you. You nod and agree with his sentiment softly.

"My daughter, my eldest, you... have a visitor."

You blink and withhold a grimace. He hates when you make faces. You force a smile and your voice crackles as you muster your voice.

"A visitor, father?"

"He is inside, he cannot have his tea alone," he says as if you should know who he alludes to.

You stand as Cora rolls her eyes, "who could be here for her?"

You notice how Albina and Hannah share a look. You cannot determine whether it is at your expense or Cora's.

"Daughter," your father drawls, "do not be sour that your betrothed eludes you."

"He does not--"

"So be happy for your sister and enjoy your tea."

She huffs and reaches for her cup. You step around her chair and approach your father. He smiles and as you near, he puts his hands on your arms. He is smiling. Genuinely.

"He has my blessing, of course, I will need accompany you to maintain propriety," he speaks quietly, "come."

You dip your chin down and meekly follow him inside. A servant pulls the door closed behind you. Your steps echo down the corridor as your father leads you to the sunroom. As you enter, there is some rustling and a subtle creak.

You peek up to find Lord Odinson standing with a hand on his vest. He bows to you and your father. You stop in the archway.

Your father proceeds, unaffected, and sits in the cushioned chair nearest the fireplace. He slaps his thighs as he splays his legs and grunts.

"Well, then, get on with it," your father grumbles.

Lord Odinson straightens his posture and gulps. He reaches up and toys with his cravat, the starch fabric already askew. He smiles, his cheeks reddening. He sways and looks between your father and yourself.

"I thought it very difficult to put this in ink but now I am here, I find the same is true of words," he says, laughing at his own joke, "so, lady, I trust this isn't very surprising to you. I've made my intentions clear and I've made your father a proposal, which he has graciously approved. Thus I put to you the question..." he twists his cravat, stops himself, then grips his jacket lapel, "would I be a fair husband to you? Er, or rather, would you... would you... honour me as a wife?"

The air stills and the chill that trailed you in dissipates. You blink dumbly and let your mouth fall open. You glance at your father. You understand his happiness now and yet you cannot believe it.

Your stomach churns and you clamp your mouth shut. The silence turns unbearable. You notice how Lord Odinson's cheek spasms and his complexion drains.

"Yes, sir, I... suppose... rather, I would..." you feel as if you're choking, "is it true? A marriage?"

"You wouldn't have to leave your homeland forever. I have some months ahead of me and my holdings here. We could visit--"

"Yes, yes, I will marry you," you murmur.

You hold your breath. Waiting. For one of them to break. For a peel of laughter between them. For it all to be another trick.

"Glory," Odinson exclaims as he proffers his hand, "shall we sit for tea, then, my valkyrie?"

You nod, unable to speak for fear of croaking. It is real. This man is real but you worry, his attention may yet prove false.

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buckyownsmylife · 1 year

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Finding You #21 - Steve Rogers, Ari Levinson or Frank Adler smut (your choice!)

The one with somnophilia

When you end up being transformed into an omega without any understanding of what it entails, five Alphas find themselves responsible for your well-being. Guess it’s only expected you’d take care of them too, huh?

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: Another short drabble!

I watched her sleep peacefully between Andy and Ransom, her breasts moving with every breath she took.

She must have been tired, the poor thing. We really were insatiable when it came to her, and unfortunately, I wasn’t able to hold myself back just yet.

I needed to have her again.

“Hey, it’s me…” I whispered against her shoulder once I was able to fit my body between my brother’s and behind hers, in bed. “Kiss me, kiss me.”

Our noses bumped as she struggled to abide by my wishes, still being more or less asleep, but it was everything that I wanted.

She was everything that I had always wanted.

Despite her lack of help, it wasn’t hard pulling her underwear to the side and shoving myself inside of her. I mentally complained about my brothers for dressing her up, knowing another one of us would unavoidably want to be buried in her after they were done, but since I was able to make do, I figured I shouldn’t really complain all that much.

A few little tears escaped the corners of her eyes as she moaned, a bit in pleasure and a bit in pain from being used so much. I kissed them away as I started to gently move in and out of her.

“Shh…” I tried to quiet her down so she’d continue sleeping. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll take care of you.”

Her eyes remained closed as I fucked into her softly, but I knew she wasn’t asleep anymore. So I grabbed her ass as I drilled into her deeper, pulling her leg up to help me in my intentions.

“Tell me you love me,” I quietly begged, right against her ear as I heard her breathing get shallower and shallower. “Please?”

“I love you,” she answered at the same volume, careful not to wake up the boys. “I love you, Alpha.”

And that was everything that I needed.

#my series #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #smut #frank adler smut #frank adler #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #alpha!steve rogers #alpha!frank adler #alpha! ari levinson #steve rogers x reade #ari levinson x reader #frank adler x reader

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realangelahernandez · 4 months

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Go to therapy or read another fan fiction of your favorite fictional character?

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kotekenobiiiii · 10 months

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LIKE WHY ARE THEY COMPLIMENTING AND CALLING EACH OTHER 'GENIUS' OR 'LOVE IT' LIKE A MARRIED COUPLE THIS CAN'T BE REAL I- I CAN'T-

#we won again #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #steve x tony #stony #marvel #ALSO UNDERCOVER IN A PARTY?? I LITERALLY READ THIS IN AO3 YESTERDAY

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buckys-wintersoldier · 8 months

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Fics you need to read.

(Marvel and their cast)

I thought it's a funny idea to write all my favourite fics here. (I saw that a few times on here so, lets do it) I would say it's my 200 Follower special.

So thank you so much for 200 Follower in just a month, that means so much for me.

Masterlist Bingo (request open)

Kink-tober 2023

If you don't want me to tag you here, tell me, and I will delete it.

To be honest there are so much I love and it's hard to write all, so those are just a few of them.

Want me to read yours? Just tell me, but I'm a bit picky, so your fic isn't bad just because I didn't tag it here.

♡-fluff

◇-smut

♧-dark

○-angst

/-non of that

bucky barnes:

◇ heavy patting (@buckyysdoll)

/ john fucking walker (@buckyysdoll)

♡ babysitting duty (@nicoline1998enilocin)

♡ hello? Mr. Pickle? (@wwilsonbarness)

♡ it's not my cup of tea (@malum-forev)

♡ sweet dreams bee (@angrythingstarlight)

◇ teach me (@buckyalpine)

◇ 4 minutes (@kurogxrix)

◇ friend of a friend b.b s.r. (@angelkhi)

◇ You let him in my pussy? (@itiswormtimebaby)

◇ Wait till I get home? (@jamesbuckybarnes1917)

♡ You have a girlfriend? (@antiquarianfics)

◇♡ let me take care of you (@theeleggymeggy)

◇ What goes around (@navybrat817)

♡ uncle bucky (@multiversefanfics)

♡ clingy (@sleepypanda27)

◇ don't move (@lavykitty)

- continue

tony stark:

◇ touched for the very first time (@nicoline1998enilocin)

♡ making a new friend (@nicoline1998enilocin)

◇♡ a small miracle (@nicoline1998enilocin)

-continue

steve rogers:

◇♡ forbidden fruit (@sebastianstanisahotmf)

-continue

other character:

◇ mommy's good boy [randsom drysdale] (@nicoline1998enilocin)

-continue

♡ your age is showing [andy barber] (@worksby-d)

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hsllfirescoops · 2 months

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most written in their fandom

bucky barnes 🤝 eddie munson

been here longer but less written about them

steve rogers 🤝 steve harrington

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navybrat817 · 6 months

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October Reading List

Hey, lovelies! Here are the fics I've had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of October. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

Love, thanks, and happy reading!

Marvel Characters

Bucky Barnes

Feelin' Gourd by @jobean12-blog

Never Saw You Comin' by @nickfowlerrr

Healing Hands by @rookthorne

Mile High Club by @writing-for-marvel

Off Day by @theeleggymeggy

Hold Me Down by @flordeamatista

Blood Sweat and Tears by @treatbuckywkisses

Protective Biker!Bucky by @pellucid-constellations

Insomnia by @intrepidacious

Chain Around My Neck by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Storm by @bucky-barnes-diaries

Biker!Bucky Headcanon by @sinner-as-saint

Smitten by @buckylattes

Give Up Part 1 and Part 2 by @fineanddandy

New Perspective by @honeybloomss

Behave by @becca-e-barnes

Steve Rogers

Haunted by @targaryenvampireslayer

Let's Get Physical by @mrsmischief209

Darkness Between the Stars by @biteofcherry

You Are in Love by @scrumptious-delusion

Baby Girl by @wint3r-h3art

Drain You by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Morning Light by @drabblewithfrannybarnes

Interrupted by @ciarawritesmarvel

Steve Rogers as a Husband @neonovember

What You Can Do For Your Country by @krirebr

I Made Your Favorite by @heli0s-writes

The Cinema Experience by @myfictionaldreams

Learn My Lesson by @cockslutpadalecki

Breathe Me by @fushic0re

An Olive Branch by @real-jane

Stucky

Letters to the Moon by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Chris Evans Characters

Andy Barber

Your Age is Showing by @worksby-d

Rosebud by @kthynes

Second Shot by @/drabblewithfrannybarnes

Ari Levinson

Beauty Wrought of Rapture and Desire by @the-iceni-bitch

The Domestic Life @imyourbratzdoll

Of Service by @stargazingfangirl18

The New Romantics - Part 1 by @slvttyfied

Curtis Everett

Lots of Candles by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Can I Try Something? by @luxeavenger

Lloyd Hansen

Trucker!Lloyd by @oh-my-damn

Alpha by @boxofbonesfic

Sebastian Stan Characters

Lee Bodecker

It Will Come Back by @slyyywriting

Lights Out by @vellicore

No Way Out by @shadeysprings

Captivity by @wheezy-stucky

Devil Devil by @sgt-seabass

Snuggle Time by @holylulusworld

#navy's fic recs #reading list #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x female reader #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader

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howdoyousleep3 · 1 month

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Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: 4.7K Notable Tags: Dom/Sub AU, Heavy Power Imbalance, Non-Con (from characters other than Steve and in the past, no major detail), Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Sex Trafficking, Human Trafficking, Submissive Auction, Angst With a Happy Ending, Depressive Thoughts, Depressed Bucky Barnes, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Crying, Subspace, Blowjob, Face Fucking, Orgasm Denial, Cock Cage, Size Kink, Size Difference A/N: This was originally supposed to be published in the last Kinktober I participated in under my Age Difference day. I've only read one story that was in the Dom/Sub AU and I was so taken with it, it's all I thought about as I wrote this. It's a universe where, kind of like Omegaverse, everyone has a designation of Dominant or Submissive. I didn't dive into it too heavily, but I left it totally up for my interpretation so...don't mind me lol. Compared to what I usually write, this one is kind of twisted and dark. Please read the tags and don't continue reading if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️

Read here on Ao3.

The lights in this room are much more dim than the ones in the showcase room they’ve just performed in. He feels the line of his shoulders relax at the sight, be it merely a smidgen, heart still hammering against his rib cage. His limbs continue to tremble unpleasantly, his head pounding, his hole wet and aching to the point of pain.

He is used to this happening when he’s used without completion, climax other than his own being robbed from him, when he isn’t used for his purpose. He does as they’ve trained him though— he ignores his tender emotions and his body’s biological signs of unfulfilled submission.

Bucky barely has half the mind to take in his surroundings, to lift his chin and glance around the room he’s quickly being shuffled into. It almost looks like a study, someone’s personal office or library. It’s deceivingly cozy with its maroon walls and moody lighting, a fireplace lit and in use on one end of the room, bookshelves lining the opposite wall. He’s slow to take in the bed in the center of the room, one that seems entirely out of place yet perfect in this setting, large and cloud-like and luxurious.

The exhaustive ache that Bucky feels deep down to the center of his being yearns to curl up in the center of that bed like a kitten, to not be roused for hours on end. Instead he’s ordered to his knees on the rug next to it, the command settling unpleasantly on the nape of his neck like they always do.

He looks down at himself, his nude and flushed form, eyes locking onto his hands bound and curled together in his lap, and he wonders how this is where he ended up in life.

“Listen to me,” the handler tells him, voice unharsh yet still grating, the command one he’s forced to listen to. Bucky’s never enjoyed his designation, has rarely ever been comfortable being a Sub, but these moments are the ones he hates the most. He despises not having a choice, has a special kind of hatred for being commanded against his will, his body listening before his mind can fight against it. But he’s quick to respond, quick to mumble, “Yes, Sir,” because that’s what they’ve spent the last three months training Bucky to do.

“You no longer belong to us,” the Dominant handler states without emotion, and even given the circumstances, relief kicks up into Bucky’s chest. “Your personal possessions are in this bag, your Dom will handle everything else once your bond is initiated. If it is initiated.” Bucky flinches. “You understand the reputation we hold here and the standards we’ve instilled in you, yes?”

Bucky bites out another, “Yes, Sir,” before the handler is done moving purposefully around the room, coming to stand in front of Bucky. He doesn’t raise his head, just as he’s been taught.

“Good. I advise you to keep those in mind once you leave this place. You haven’t been the easiest Sub to deal with, James. I’d hate for your Dom to send you back here because you did not meet expectations. He won you fair and square with the highest bid; don’t make him regret that.”

The severity of the situation Bucky’s been put in, the past few months, hits him in the solar plexus when he hears these words. He isn’t sure why his brain decides to catch up in this moment, why he decides to feel the weight of the past weeks here at the feet of his handler in the very last moment they’ll see each other, but he feels his chest constrict painfully. His hole aches in waves, mouth watering in preparation for what it thinks is coming, desperate, and Bucky bites back his whimper when he feels his dick wish to fill out.

He never gets what he wants, what he needs, is always left feeling unfulfilled and purposeless. They’ve had to increase his dosage of meds they give him each day as a result of how affected he has become from touch after touch leaving him emptier and emptier. A Sub shouldn’t live like this yet here he is, having been picked up off the streets and trained to be the best of the best on such evil touches.

He’s going to be so fucked up because of this place.

Having been put on display in every possible way in the performance room during his shining moment, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll feel so used and hollow. Will his new Dom continue to leave him feeling so empty? Will he make Bucky do things he doesn’t want to do, use him against his will, take advantage of him and his designation? He feels so low in this moment he can’t see anything but that happening, of being owned and living this life of misery. Surely Bucky won’t survive.

His handler doesn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t acknowledge Bucky as he leaves, and Bucky hates how much that hurts. He’s once again betrayed by his biological needs, betrayed by the intrinsic need to please and to obey, and even given the piss poor treatment they’ve put him through here, Bucky wishes his handler would leave him with more positive words, with the praise he so desperately craves.

When he hears the door close behind the Dom, he can’t help the whimper that bubbles up and out of his mouth.

His eyes don’t leave the floor because no one has told him he can raise his head, and even though he no longer belongs to this establishment, he can’t will his inner submissive to look up. Instead, his eyes lock onto the cage around his dick. He despises this thing. Before he was lured in with promises of a warm meal and an even warmer bed he had only heard of cock cages being utilized in either the most severe of relationships or for fun, no in between. He had never worn one until his training.

He hates it, has tried taking it off on his own multiple times before his harshest of training had set in. He hasn’t come once during his time here, can barely remember what his own climax feels like.

“Your pleasure no longer belongs to you, James. Your orgasms are not your own; they belong to your Dom.”

It’s ironic yet devastating to Bucky that all of this training, all of this pain, was pointless. Bucky could be a good Sub for someone, he knows it. He could give the right someone all of the things his training had brought out without the misery he’s gone through for these people. He could give his mind, body, and soul easily over to the right person. This line of thinking shifts into the only thing that brought him comfort each night; the only thing that helped him get the little sleep that he did—

His Daddy.

Well, hopefully his Daddy.

If he’s the perfect man for Bucky, he’ll be his Daddy.

And his knight in shining armor, this perfect Dom, his Daddy, would come one day to take him away from this hell. That’s what he dreamt about each night, that his Dom, strong enough for the both of them, big enough to easily cradle Bucky’s not entirely petite form close to his chest, would whisk him away from this place and give him everything he could ever need. His Dom that can teach him how to cook his favorite meals for him, his Dom that is patient, his Dom that is proud of Bucky. Every night when he needed comfort to sleep, this man would be the comfort Bucky needed to finally rest.

Bucky wonders what his Dom is going to be like, what he’s going to look like, but most of all Bucky wonders if he is going to like Bucky. Surely he is attracted to Bucky if he got into a bidding war with someone else for Bucky, if he paid damn near a million dollars for Bucky’s bond, for his life. There is a sliver of hope that the highest bidder’s intentions are pure.

Bucky is so exhausted, right down to the bone, that he doesn’t even startle when he hears the door to the room open once more. He doesn’t lift his head, as he’s been taught, but this time he does it because of the onslaught of nerves that wrack his body. This is it, this is his new Dom, the one he’ll have for life, the one whose bond will be initiated tonight. With one last unmated deep breath, Bucky sends a wish out into the universe for his Dom to be kind, for him to show Bucky the love he’s never been given in life, to love Bucky.

The sound of steady footsteps reach his ears at almost the same moment a sense of calm washes over Bucky’s being. It hits him in waves, drips down his spine like warm honey, a sensation so pleasurable his chest shakes with his caged sob. His nostrils fill with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and a bonfire deep in the forest. His eyes well up with tears as he continues to look down at his hands, mind racing in disbelief at his body’s immediate reaction to his new Dom, a reaction he’s not experienced before.

Hope begins to seep into Bucky’s limbs as a pair of sleek, black boots come into view.

“James?”

Oh.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until his next exhale comes out as a choked sob. Upon hearing that voice the hope in his body bursts, shatters, into something more fierce, something that has him responding with a quiet and thoughtless—

“Daddy?”

He doesn’t look up, doesn’t let his eyes leave the floor, those expensive boots. He feels his hands tremble in his lap, can almost hear them do so. He isn’t given enough time to panic about addressing his new Dom by a title that wasn’t approved by him, wasn’t given permission to use, because his Dom is responding confidently.

“Look at me, please.”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter upon hearing the gentle command in such a soothing, rich voice, and he takes a deep and shaky breath before listening like a good boy…

And immediately begins sobbing in full.

It’s the faceless man from Bucky’s dreams, he’s sure of it. He has kind ocean eyes, an otherworldly physical presence. There’s experience etched into every part of his being, from his graying hair to the wrinkles around his eyes to the calmness that sweeps off of him in waves. He smiles down at Bucky and it makes him feel like he’s the most precious creature on the planet.

“Oh, my angel…”

This is the man that is going to save his life.

This is his Daddy.

With his eyesight now blurry because of his tears, he doesn’t see the hand coming down before it cups his chin. There’s a strength in this grip that Bucky knows will soothe him, hold him, love him for the rest of his life. A thumb swipes at his tears, wiping them from his cheek. He can’t remember the last time he felt such comfort from another human being. Even before he was forced into this facility, through all his sexual encounters, gentleness and softness were not things he experienced. He’s almost forgotten what it’s like, to feel a reassuring touch.

“James,” his Daddy reverently murmurs, stroking his thumb over Bucky’s trembling bottom lip. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?”

He swallows thickly, his eyes roving over his Daddy’s face, taking a few seconds to selfishly drink the older man in. His body reacts to its Dom’s presence like it knows its Daddy is finally here, its biological needs taking over all other needs, roaring to life within him. Bucky’s eyes fight to cross when he takes in the size of his Dom’s denim-clad thighs, how he fills out his cozy sweater. His Daddy’s so big. He wiggles his hips where he sits, chin in his Daddy’s big hand.

“I’ve just…I’ve…I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” is what Bucky ends up saying quietly, sniffling, and his Dom’s smile is slow and sweet, like he enjoys Bucky’s answer.

“I’ve been waiting for you forever, James.”

Those words feel like pure sunlight.

But Bucky shakes his head without thought, stops himself abruptly after two shakes. He’s reminded then of his handler’s words, that he was a difficult Sub. He can’t take the risk of being anything but the best Sub. He’s already afraid to lose his Daddy; he has to be good.

But his Dom has caught his defiance.

“What is it, James?”

“Nothing, Sir.”

His Dom doesn’t miss a beat.

“No, sweetheart— no lies, no holding back, no unspoken feelings. I always want to know what you are thinking, what your feelings are. So tell me, James. What is it?”

Christ. Bucky can’t help but sniffle again, unable to get his tears under control. His Dom is perfect.

“B-Bucky,” he mumbles. “I go by Bucky. I don’t…I don’t like James.”

His Dom’s smile is warm, his fingers that squeeze around Bucky’s chin reassuring. He repeats Bucky’s name, practicing it a few times, each one sending Bucky melting further into his head and surely into the floor.

“Of course, sweetheart— Bucky. My name is Steve,” he tells him, and Bucky’s insides warm with more of that sunlight Steve is bringing into his life.

Steve.

A strong name for a strong man, a name that belongs to a man that gently commands attention. It’s the perfect name, or so Bucky thinks.

“But you can call me Daddy, Bucky.’

That’s the best name, the perfect name.

Hands still tied together in his lap, dick still in its cage, Bucky turns his head and nuzzles his cheek into his new Daddy’s palm, the warmth and sheer size of it making him lightheaded. It takes him a moment to recognize that this is the beginnings of him going under, of finding that sweet space within. He’d gotten so used to being forced there, his designation being used against him to put him under, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be sent there willingly.

His whimpers seem endless even to his own ears.

“Look at that,” Steve marvels from his place above Bucky, voice the most soothing of tones, a sensation in and of itself. He allows Bucky to nuzzle his cheek further into his palm, even as Bucky gives into the urge and desire to press kisses to his fingers. Such a forgiving Dom.

“I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you, that you’d be everything I’ve dreamt of having all to myself.”

Bucky sobs. The emotions that one sentence brings him is enough to beg Steve to not go any further. But Bucky is selfish, he is admittedly greedy. He’s been given nothing while being here, before this. He has continuously poured from a deserted and infinitely empty cup and has been given nothing when his heart, his mind, his body demands it, needs it, in order to survive.

“Your tears,” Steve murmurs, interjecting his own shared line of thinking. “Are they good or bad, Bucky? Please tell me.”

A request yet a command. A tender one. One Bucky must answer, is finally willing to answer. “Both,” is what he decides to admit.

“Both?”

He nods his head within Steve’s grip. “Yes, Daddy. Bad because…because I am sad for my past self. That I was never given a chance to be good and then said chance was forcefully taken away from me.” Before Steve can speak to those words, Bucky quickly continues. “But good because you’re here…you’re finally here. And I…I get to be so g-good for you.”

Steve’s exhale is heavy, laced with a sound of pleasure that settles over Bucky’s own shoulders and neck. Bucky’s dick strains against its cage, his mind slipping from himself further.

Steve sticks his thick thumb between Bucky’s lips and Bucky nearly sobs again, hiccuping around where he purses his mouth.

“You are extraordinary,” Steve tells him and Bucky truly believes it given his reverent tone. “The moment you stepped on stage, I knew it. I’ve been coming here for years. Did they tell you that? Years, Bucky. I’m their hardest client to please, the one they couldn’t wait to be rid of. Money is of no importance, my preferences vague. Kept telling them I’d know when to bid, when the right Sub would be coming home with me.”

Bucky sucks on Steve’s thumb harder, grateful to have something in his mouth as his Dom showers him with praise.

“They even told me they’d go out of their way to find someone that fit what I was looking for, that we could forgo an auction altogether. I told them no.”

His Daddy is so powerful.

Bucky slips further into his head.

“Never once did I question myself; I knew you were out there. And when you stepped onto that stage with those legs and that mouth and those eyes…oh, kitten— you were made for me.”

Bucky sways forward, head dizzy with need and relief curling together, tightly wound. Steve wraps his other fingers around Bucky’s chin, holding him steady.

“And you’re going to be the sweetest, most affectionate boy for me, aren’t you? This is everything we’ve both been waiting for, isn’t it?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, laps at Steve’s thumb and sucks it into the back of his mouth.

“You’re going to bring us so much joy through your submission, aren’t you? You’re going to bring us the purpose we’ve been craving. Together.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to communicate that his feelings are terribly overwhelming, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. The force of his emotions leave his body trembling where he kneels. If Steve’s thumb weren’t in his mouth his teeth would surely be clacking against one another with the force of his tremors. His head spins in less of the dizzy way he’s been experiencing these past weeks and more in a euphoric way he’s always dreamt it could.

His body already trusts its Daddy, leaning towards him and into his touch, loosening up further and further. The line in his shoulders softens, the tension in his thighs diminishes. Even with Steve’s thumb in his mouth, the tightness no longer residing in his jaw is obvious.

Even as Bucky spent his nights dreaming of this moment, weeping for this moment, he never imagined it could be this perfect.

But then Steve is reaching for his belt buckle with his other hand, the button on his black dress pants, and Bucky wonders if he is in fact dreaming.

“Let Daddy give you something else to suck on, sugar. You look like you need it,” Steve purrs, reaching into his now open dress pants and pulling out his cock. Weeping nearly as much as Bucky has been, Steve’s cock is impossibly thick and deliciously heavy. It has Bucky’s hips wiggling once more, his vision going blurry as he’s presented with his Daddy’s cock for the very first time. He can’t stop the onslaught of sniffles and weepy eyes as he reminds himself once more that he’s so goddamn lucky Steve waited for him.

He opens his mouth as soon as that cock is above him, letting Steve’s thumb pop from between his lips, whining as he does so. He can smell Steve from here, his warm scent with an added muskiness to it that has Bucky unabashedly groaning, tongue out.

And then Steve pulls his balls out too, and Bucky nearly asks to be pinched.

“Daddy…”

“Gimme a kiss, sweetheart. Let Daddy feel that precious mouth.”

The moment the fat head of Steve’s cock lands on his tongue, Bucky feels the closest thing to submissive bliss he’s ever felt. It’s euphoric. The taste of him, this Dom, his Daddy, blooms on his tongue, bursts through his being. The taste of his excitement, his precome, forces another ragged noise from Bucky as he sucks Steve further into his mouth, savoring every inch of him. Steve’s thunderous and drawn out groan feels like a climax to Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve exclaims through an exhale, Bucky barely tethered to the earth. “That’s it. Show Daddy how much you’ve missed him, show him how perfect you are.”

In the three months he’s been here, servicing a Dom has not once felt like this. In his time before this, his time on the streets and beyond, he’s never felt solid within his submissiveness. The stretch of his jaw, the hot slide of velvet wrapped steel on his tongue and down his throat, the feel of Steve’s large fingers sliding through his hair; it all brings him a sense of purpose he’s failed to receive all these years.

And he can’t help but sob around his mouthful.

“I knew it, I…fuck, I knew you were made for me, Bucky” Steve tells him, voice full of awe and dripping with lust. “I can’t wait to see how far you drop, how far I can push you. You’re gonna let Daddy push you, aren’t you? You’re gonna let him learn all about you?”

Bucky confirms Steve’s suspicions with another loud, garbled noise around his cock, one of obvious enthusiasm. He’s dropping hard now, wants to tell his Daddy he’s barely holding on, but then Steve’s hands are moving, holding Bucky’s head in place as he pulls his hips back.

Using Bucky.

What little headspace Bucky has left reserved for himself is used to marvel at how easily, how purposefully, it was for Steve to step into this role as his Daddy.

He’d give Steve the world.

He’ll give Steve whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, all the time.

This is his life’s purpose now, being used for his Daddy’s pleasure, serving his Daddy. Being owned by his Daddy.

He’s left with no choice but to cry.

Bucky opens up his throat as his eyes begin to close, leaning forward on his knees, letting Steve fuck his mouth. With an easy and sharp noise, Bucky immediately knows that Steve wants his eyes open and on him. He does just that, looking up at Steve as he sticks his tongue out obediently, moaning at the fullness of his mouth.

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” Steve murmurs, voice melting down Bucky’s spine as Steve’s fingers dig into his hair. “You’re so good, you’re already so good for your Daddy. Look at you, look how much you love sucking on your Daddy’s cock. You perfect baby Sub.”

Bucky’s head grows fuzzier, his dick aching, his core aching. He slurps around Steve’s cock but it does nothing to slow the trail of spit dripping down his chin and sliding towards his neck. Steve is a dream, an absolute dream. Bucky needs a communicator, needs someone who will listen and who will talk to him, especially when it’s filthy. Bucky wants to be talked dirty to, wants to experience that side of sex, especially when it’s praise. Especially when it’s from Steve.

Without warning, Steve kicks his hips forward, a noise akin to a growl falling from his lips, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s hair. It’s a slip of his obvious control, his inner Dom breaking through, impatient. Bucky meets him full force with his own submission, moaning around his Daddy’s cock, showing him he can take it.

“Yeah, you know what that is, don’t you? Your Sub knows a Dom when he feels one, doesn’t he?”

Bucky’s whine is damn near desperate.

“You know how hard it is for your Dom not to take you right here on this fucking floor, sweetheart? Makes me feel feral, the way I want to make you mine. Mhmm, your Daddy doesn’t want that though. Your Daddy wants to take you home, take you away from this place forever. He wants to treat you right.”

Bucky swallows around his mouthful.

He can feel Steve’s groan all the way down here, down in his toes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, his hands holding onto both sides of his face. He pulls his cock out of Bucky’s mouth just enough to where Bucky can only suckle on the tip of it given the restraint Steve has put him in. The connection of their eyes, the way Steve looks down at him, strikes a chord deep, deep within Bucky.

He whimpers as he suckles on the big, swollen head of his Daddy’s cock as he listens.

“I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to give you my come, fill your pretty belly with it. I have a hunch that’s going to send you right under, which is perfect. You’re so perfect, angel.”

Bucky whimpers again.

“And then Daddy’s going to take you home. And when we get home, I’m going to give you a bath and play with your little body until you’re nice and loose and ready to take my big cock.”

Bucky whimpers again.

“And then I’m going to fuck your little hole until it sends you right back under, until you come all over my cock, until our bond snaps into place and we finally and officially belong to one another.”

Oh.

Bucky sniffles as he lets Steve use his mouth, tears trailing down his cheeks and mixing with the spit smeared on his chin. He wasn’t sure if the person who bought him would want to bond so quickly, if they’d want to bond at all. It’s been implied to him since he got here that he was too difficult of a Sub to become bonded. To hear that Steve wants to take him away from this dreadful place, to their home, in order to bond with him is a dream come true.

It’s what begins to send him under.

“That’s it, kitten,” Steve pants, fucking himself impossibly deep into Bucky’s mouth. “That’s it, baby. Oh, I can almost feel you slipping from me. Have you stolen my heart already? Have you tempted my bond already, Bucky?”

Bucky’s vision begins to grow fuzzy around the edges, his mind pulling in on itself, hypnotized by the drag of Steve’s cock in and out of his mouth. In and out, in and out, in and out. Blessedly not rough, but intense and all-consuming. His jaw nearly aches at the stretch of Steve’s girth and it’s—

It’s bliss.

Daddy’s hands in his hair, Daddy’s cock in his mouth, Daddy’s praise in his ear, Daddy’s eyes on his face, Daddy’s come on his tongue.

“Daddy.”

“You’re mine now, Bucky. No one is ever going to hurt you, never again. I’ll give you everything you could ever want as a Sub and as a boy. You’ll never wish for anything now that I’m your Daddy,” Steve tells him as he shoots off down Bucky’s throat, hands in Bucky’s hair, petting him as he pumps his hips.

His Daddy’s voice is steady and strong, full of promise and love. And as he kneels there at his Daddy’s feet with Steve’s warm come settling into his belly, his Daddy’s cock still in his slack mouth, Bucky finally, finally lets himself sink.

#stucky fic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #howdoyousleep #dark fic #dark smut #my writing #please please please read the tags my god #plz don't mind any errors

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saiyanprincessswanie · 4 days

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SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 195 & 196

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

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

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

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE.

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

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

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

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Morning Cravings - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ethereal Part 5 - (Ari x Reader) - @labella420

Thoughts - (Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Revenge - (Brock) - @nekoannie-chan

Late Night - (Andy x Reader) - @katherineswritingsblog

It Was Sunday - (Bucky x Reader) - @ellemj

Wrecked (Part 3) - (Frank x Reader, Billy x Reader) - @tuiccim

Competition 2.0 - (Lloyd x Reader, God the Bounty Hunter x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Love and Flowers - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Ethereal Part 6 - (Ari x Reader) - @labella420

Reconnect - We’ll Always Be Friends - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Switched Sides part 5 - @deliciousangelfestival

Flood - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @biteofcherry

Alone again - (Jack R) - @nekoannie-chan

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

Evermore: Part. One - (Ari x Reader, Andy x Reader) - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog

Lost in the Dark (Part 2) - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim

Helicarrier - (Steve) - @nekoannie-chan

Your Mark On Me - Part 7 - (Steve x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Monkey See, Monkey Do - Chapter 15 - @spectre-posts @what-is-your-plan-today

Indecent Proposal (1) - (Stucky x Reader)- @holylulusworld

Promises To Keep - (Andy x Reader) - @americasass81

Winning - (Brock x Reader, Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Advantages - @nekoannie-chan

The Tarzan to my Jane - (Ari x Reader) - @nicoline1998enilocin

Release Me Pt. 4 - (Andy x Reader) - @labella420

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

In the Boss’s Grip - (Ari x Reader) - @labella420

Teased and Tied - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Aftermath - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Two Bosses Part 11 - (Ransom x Reader) - @labella420

Wrecked (Part 4) - (Frank x Reader, Billy x Reader) - @tuiccim

Just Like That - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Collared part 39 - @spnexploration

Collared part 40 - @spnexploration

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #ari levinson x reader #andy barber x reader #frank castle x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #stucky x reader #brock rumlow #jack rollins #billy russo x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

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super-marvel-dc · 6 months

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Bucky: I CAN'T DO IT!

Y/N, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Bucky: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Soap: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Bucky:

Bucky: I appreciate it.

Bucky: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Alejandro: Bucky-

Bucky: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Ghost: Bucky we gotta-

Bucky: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Bucky: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

Bucky, motioning to Steve: NOT FUCKING THIS!

#Steve did something reckless again...#simon ghost riley x reader #bucky barnes x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #steve rogers x reader #read it as any pairing!#incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect call of duty modern warfare quotes #incorrect call of duty mw2 quotes

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imtryingbuck · 2 months

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Theses are the fics I've read this month and would highly recommend you reading. Please go and show some love to these amazing creators!

Please read the warnings to each fic🤍

Divider by @saradika

fluff - ❀ angst - ❁ both - ✾ smut - ❅ series - ✸

Bucky Barnes

Dick pic - @buckys-wintersoldier ❅

My subby Alpha - @buckys-wintersoldier ❅

Squirting - @mrsbuckybarnes1917 ❅

Like A Virgin - @holylulusworld ❅ (also part of a series)

Steve Rogers

offer me my deathless death - @witchywithwhiskey ❅

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simsamsum2023 · 8 months

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Intertwined - Masterlist

Series Plot: You and Loki are bound together as soulmates through the red string of fate. Even though he's a villain, you are tied by destiny. You are also given poems that are recited for your ears only. They're there to help you figure out who your connected with along the way.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader (Eventually) Steve Rogers x Female Reader (For some time)

Warnings: Smut (Not the best at it but I am trying), language, violence (Maybe more warnings later on but will add to this later on so keep checking when a new part comes out)

Part 1: Destiny's a b**ch

Part 2: Unspoken truth

Part 3: Unplanned visits

Part 4: You'll always just be a villain

Part 5: The last of it

Part 6: Just the beginning for us

#loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x reader #loki odinson #love triangle #x reader #red string of fate #romance #long reads #loki x female reader smut #steve rogers #loki fanfic #fanfic #steve rodgers x reader #friends w/ benfits au #enemies to lovers #soulmates

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

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Hi, love your fics so much. Do you have any fluffy headcannons about what Steve Rogers is like as a boyfriend and then Husband?

hi!! thank you so much!!

I didn't have any written, but I've written one for you! I hope it's what you wanted and it's good, it's my first time writing a headcanon.

gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

FLUFFY HEADCANONS OF STEVE ROGERS (BOYFRIEND)

When Steve asked you out, he was so nervous. His palms were all clammy, and he swears his asthma came back, but the moment you said yes and smiled at him. He felt relief, and he was the cutest shade of red.

The date was a cute little picnic in a meadow full of flowers, watching the sunset with each other. Steve found out that it was your dream date from Nat.

He’d pick flowers for you, knowing you’d rather that instead of wasting money that will just die.

He made sure that he set aside time for you. Date nights were once a week. You’d try every restaurant around the area and see which were worth returning to.

Steve makes sure there are always snacks stocked up anywhere you’d go. He’d carry a chocolate bar in each pocket, knowing you’d get hungry at some point.

As you go to sleep, he’d tell you about the 40s and run his fingers through your hair. He stared at you lovingly as you drifted off, thanking the universe for putting you in his path.

On your anniversary day, he looks down at the ring he bought. A small, simple ring. He was glad that whenever you looked at rings, you avoided the big, shiny ones.

He set up a picnic, copying the first date. After eating and talking, he took the ring out and asked you right then and there if you’d marry him. He beamed when you said yes.

FLUFFY HEADCANONS OF STEVE ROGERS (HUSBAND)

At the altar, he cried. When you walked out as beautiful as ever, he lost his breath, and Bucky had to poke him to get him to snap out of it. The minute you both said ‘I do’, he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

As a husband now, he loves you even more than when you were just dating. He dotes on you daily and without you asking. He gave up being Captain America.

Once a week, you still have a date night and at least twice a week, you both stop everything and take care of one another. You run a bath, cook a fantastic meal, maybe even order in. Massages are involved, and sweet words are exchanged.

Steve’s taken up gardening and many other hobbies, and he loves spending time with you.

He’s happier with the news you shared with him.

He still picks flowers for you and stocks snacks everywhere. Honestly, if you asked Steve if he’d rather be anywhere else, he’d say no.

Because you are his home.

As a husband now, he loves you even more than when you were just dating. He dotes on you daily and without you asking. He gave up being Captain America.

Steve’s taken up gardening and many other hobbies, and he loves spending time with you.

He’s happier with the news you shared with him.

He still picks flowers for you and stocks snacks everywhere. Honestly, if you asked Steve if he’d rather be anywhere else, he’d say no.

Because you are his home.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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ilikereadingthisiswhatilike · 8 months

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Steve Rogers

A collection of Steve x reader stories. Give the craters love.

No Smut

A Misunderstanding @kinanabinks Summery: You and Steve slept together a couple of weeks ago and, though he said he would, he hasn't called you since. Harsh words from your best friend lead you to accept that he just doesn't want you in that way. Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Bullying, Drugs, Alcohol, Angst Special Tags: College AU, Frat AU,

NO VACANCY @giorno-plays-piano Summery: He told you so much already, describing in details his native planet, its nature and weather conditions, the way Vaalorian society works, and their history and values. Warnings: Kidnaping, Mentions of Rape

Noble Intentions @giorno-plays-piano Summary: He told you so much already. It’s hard to comprehend their complex technology. You’re willing to learn more as long as Steve is willing to talk. Warnings: Kidnaping Special Tag: Alien AU

Smut

The Passenger @deceitfuldevout Summery: Hydra has taken over S.H.I.E.L.D, forcing Steve and the other avengers to flee. Now on the run with no one to trust. All you wanted was to go home. Warnings: Rape, Public Sex, Violence Special Tags: Dark

So Pretty With a Knife in Your Hand @witchywithwhiskey Summery: You lure a man out of the club by pretending to be drunk, but instead of taking you home, he falls right into your trap and winds up in the clutches of your serial killer boyfriend. Warnings: Mentions of Rape, Murder, Violence, Kidnapping, Torture Special Tags: Dark, Serial Killer AU, Dirty

Nothing He Could Do But Touch You @witchywithwhiskey Summery: You move in and become Steve's roommate, but the longer you live in his apartment, the more obsessed with you he gets—until he just can't help but touch you while you're sleeping. Warnings: Rape Special Tags: Dark, Voyeurism, Somnophilia

Sweetheart @clints-lucky-arrow Summery: Fondly, you think of him as the spirit of the young boy who lived - and died - here many years ago. His name is Steve, but you mostly call him ‘sweetheart.’ Warnings: Rape, Stalking, Violence, Murder, Special Tag: Horror AU, Dirty

Kiss and Cry Summery: Steve Roger's was known as the 'nice guy's but to you he was the son of Satan. He made your life hell on earth. But that all changes when you one day when your parents invite him and his family over for dinner. Warnings: Bullying, Stalking, Forced Relationship. Special Tag: Omegaverse, Highschool AU, Dark

Honey not vinegar @biteofcherry Summery: He brakes you down with praise Warnings: Manipulation, Verbal Humiliation Special Tag: Omegaverse, Dark, Soft

Preying on You Tonight @evansbby Summery: Steve is the menacing alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every single day. But what happens when Steve finds out you have a boyfriend? Warning: Bullying, Stalking, Verbal Abuse, Rape Special Tag: Omegaverse, Dark, College AU, Dirty

Run Rabbit Run @dreamlessinparis Summary: When a simple Friday the 13th party turns into an unexpected night of horrors Warnings: Violence, Drugs, kidnaping Special Tag: Horror

#steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #x reader #book recommendations #reading fanfiction #free books

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kitsune024 · 3 months

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Stucky Fic Recs Part 2 - will add later

Bucky and Steve's Excellent Adventure by blue_beans I Chapters: 48/48 I Completed Post-Avengers: Endgame Bucky Barnes is very suicidal for a good chunk of this, Sentient Infinity Stones, Fix-It fic, Action/Adventure, Time Travel, slow burn

Six months ago, Steve set out on a final mission to return the infinity stones to their proper timelines, and returned a minute later having lived out a life of peace and contentment with Peggy Carter in the past. He died in his sleep a few days later, surrounded by his friends. Or so Bucky assumes. He wouldn't know, he'd been busy being locked up on the Raft while the government decided whether or not to pardon him for the whole Winter Soldier thing. What with the court-mandated therapy and the constant surveillance by alphabet agencies and the crushing weight of his past, he's not sure if giving him a chance at "normal life" is more cruel than the alternative. But he's doing fine. Great, actually, so don't ask. He didn't have a nightmare. Especially not that strangely disturbing one about Steve... *** AKA I wanted to write the reverse time-heist and I'm still salty about Endgame. This is the result.

Seasons of War by eretria I Chapters 11/11 I Completed Friends to Lovers, World War II, war horrors, Dark

Chasing Bucky, always a step behind, Steve remembers the cycle of seasons that took him from the raw and naive young man to the Captain America who led the Howling Commandos into hell and, except for Bucky, out again. As his memories center on Bucky, one question haunts him: Is the Bucky he knew in the war the same one he knew before?

ampersand by kaydeefalls I Chapters 1/1 I one shot World War II, Friends to Lovers, the Winter Soldier started long before Bucky fell from the train

They've been steveandbucky since they were kids, but that ignores the parts of their lives that don't wrap around each other, that never did. (Bucky needs to figure out who he is, just him, with or without Steve.)

In Vain by kireteiru I Chapters 1/1 I one shot James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers(unrequited), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Endgame, All hurt no comfort, not a fix it :(

"Nothing of the heart remains, Even if we could've stayed, We've been here long enough, Long enough to know it's all in vain. Everything we tried to say, Up until the final day, I guess we said enough, Said enough to know it's all in vain." _ "In Vain", Within Temptation (Resist) A choice was made, and now the world will bear its consequences.

i'm the furthest thing from heaven, but the closest to home by @buckyismybicycle I Chapters: 6/6 I Completed Guardian Angel Bucky, Identity Reveal, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss

When Steve loses Bucky in Kreischberg, he’s lost the only thing left he cares about. He crashes the Valkyrie into the Arctic, ready to be reunited with his love, but instead, he’s saved by an angel. Except this angel isn’t like the ones he’s read about — no, his angel is armed to the teeth and has wings the colour of blood and night. Yet, there’s something eerily familiar about this angel.

Good God, Let Me Give You My Life by @bellefyre I Chapters 6/6 I Completed Bucky/others, One-Sided Relationship, Non-Consensual Touching, rape, Hydra, Steve/Bucky is Endgame

5+1 meme, five people over the decades who fell in love with the Winter Soldier and died because of him and the one person the Winter Soldier loved and lived because of him.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by @writeonclara I Chapters 6 /6 I Completed funny fic, gift giving, Steve falls for the Winter Soldier before finding out his Identity, Courting, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, bad ideas

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

Ready to Comply by @exclamation I Chapters 31/31 I Completed Canon Divergence - Post-CA: The Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, Hurt/Comfort-But Mostly Hurt, Angst, Protective Steve Rogers

The asset's orders at the end of The Winter Soldier weren't to kill Captain America, but to capture him, so that he could be wiped and turned into another asset. The asset has succeeded in that mission, capturing its target and taking him back to the Hydra base. But the Hydra soldiers are dead, captured, or fled, so there is no one there to give the asset new orders. Alone with its captive, the asset has no instructions on how it is meant to act. But the more time it spends with its target, the more old protocols start to assert themselves, like the protocol that when that face is hurt and bleeding, the asset is supposed to clean away the blood.

From Grit to Pearl by @bluesimplicity73 I Chapters 38/38 I Completed Bucky & Rebecca Barnes, Bucky Recovering, Body Horror, BAMF Bucky, BAMF Rebecca Barnes, Angst, AU - Canon Divergence, Hydra

He does not have a name. He has been called many things over the years; a weapon, a ghost, HYDRA’s Fist, the Soldier, and from what they have told him his work has shaped the century. But he does not have a name. His name, like so many other things, has been taken from him, stolen. Forgotten. Until the day it is not, and remembering, he breaks free, killing his handler and making his escape in a desperate bid for freedom. Frightened, lost and hurt, he seeks out the last person in the world he can trust, his baby sister, now an almost eighty-year-old widow, somehow knowing she is the only one who can help him. It is a difficult journey, one filled with pain, tears, and things that should not be possible. But also with recovery and redemption, rebirth and miracles, family and hope. This story is a love letter between Bucky and his sister Rebecca, the world, and eventually his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, the boy he once loved. But ultimately, it is the love letter Bucky writes to himself, as he reclaims who he once was, discovers who he is now, builds a new life for himself and realizes he might, just might, be as strong, as beautiful, as precious as a pearl.

Bookmark Series

Til the Sun Goes Down by @scyllaya I Part 1 - 2 I Bucky & Loki, Thor & Loki, Kid Loki

Stucky with Fanart

to memory now I can't recall by @etharei | Chapters: 16/16 I Completed Time Travel, World War II, Memory Loss, Identity Porn, Alien Technology The Good Monster by Taste_is_Sweet | Chapters: 2/2 | Completed Canon Divergence, Transformation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Harm despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by @praximeter | Chapters: 20/20 | Completed Non-Consensual Body Modification, Canon Divergence, Identity Reveal, Drug Withdrawal, Body Horror, identity Porn, American Sign Language The Second Labor by @aidaronan I Chapters: 18/18 I Completed wartime imagery and violence, pre-serum steve, Alternative Timeline, Psychological Torture, Medical Torture, AU - Canon Divergence

Bookmark Series

Ipseity by @skyisgray I Part 1-3 I Completed Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Torture

#stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #bucky x steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ao3 fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #stucky #winter soldier au #stucky fanart #fic recs #I ain't gonna put in all the tags in each fic so yall better read the tags some of them are dark #stevebucky #my rec list #stucky fics

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