Tumgik
#for 'stealing' that writer away
gravelsong · 8 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And if you listen closely in the direction of Canada, you can hear the faint, anguished warbling of a man who could've had it all
Tumblr media
God he's so cool though
100 notes · View notes
mariejordans · 5 months
Text
limoreau au ideas that i crave
1. ballet au—i’m thinking something like marie as the new ballerina in a ballet company and jordan as one of the veteran principal dancers who always gets cast for supporting roles, but never main bc management/casting is never quite sure how to cast them bc of their gender identity (bc management and casting are cowards basically) even though they’re one of the best dancers in the company (and everyone knows it.) so they’re always put in side roles that are comedic or gender-neutral (such as puck in a midsummer night’s dream or mercutio in romeo and juliet) and they’re like, SO frustrated, bc they want to be THE star, not just a side character. and so the end jordan’s contract is coming to an end soon and they’re very unsure if they’ll get a renewal, while marie is on a one year contract, so it’s also up in the air whether hers will be renewed too.
and then one day jordan and marie are randomly paired together for pas de deux (maybe it’s for a rehearsal or class/warm-up) and everyone is just floored by the instant chemistry and they end up getting cast in a brand new contemporary ballet set to premiere the following season bc the choreographer (i’m thinking maybe victoria?) just happens to also witness them and is inspired so much that they end up largely influencing the choreography and roles end up being specifically made for them.
and management is like, kinda nervous to allow them to be cast bc marie is like this freshly new ballerina who was just hired and is pretty much a rookie in all aspects, and they’re still worried about jordan’s marketability and such, but victoria vouches for them and fights super hard, so basically they can’t fuck it up at all bc it might be their only chance to really prove themselves and get their contract renewal.
and like the company is also putting on this super classic ballet (very much the opposite of the contemporary, which is very intense and sensual and dark) starring their two most popular principal dancers (luke and cate probs) and its very much implied that this new ballet has to perform as well as, if not better, than the classic ballet in order to secure their contract renewals. and so they really have to work together and help each other out so that they can both prove themselves.
also marie and jordan kinda hate each other at first bc like, marie was actually a big fan of jordans pre-getting into the company and were super excited to meet them until she finds out that jordan almost cost her a spot in the company, bc they just so happened to have seen her audition and mentioned to brink (who was on the auditioning panel) that she seemed too inexperienced and “not ready” etc etc (he ended up getting outvoted anyway bc the rest of the panel liked her) and so they basically can’t stand each other, which only makes the chemistry THAT more intense and palpable.
2. camp counselors au—marie and jordan are camp counselors at a vought summer camp for supe children. they both know each other vaguely from god u, specifically from an end of semester party where the two hooked up and had a one night stand. and so they are both totally shocked to see that the other is also working at the summer camp and the tension is still off the charts, but here’s the catch: there’s no fraternization policy between counselors, and if you’re caught hooking up with another counselor, you’re basically sent home.
and so, neither jordan or marie can afford to be sent home, so they really try to be “just friends” at first, but they just can’t stay away from one another, so there’s a LOT of sneaking around, stolen kisses and secret hook-ups. they eventually get caught at some point but like they just get slap on the wrist and sent back to their stations (apparently so many other people have broken the no fraternization rule it happens so often and they can’t fire everyone.)
the entire gang is also there (emma, cate, and marie share a cabin while luke, andre, sam, and jordan share another.) marie is in charge of arts and crafts, while jordan is a lifeguard (lifeguard jordan does things to me omg)
(also this plot is very much inspired by wildfire by hannah grace)
3. royalty au—just, this entire thread. it’s so perfect.
4. gossip girl/rich kids au—marie as a transfer student on scholarship to this very exclusive fancy boarding school. she’s there for one reason, and one reason only: to study, make valedictorian, and get into her dream university, [insert ivy league school here.] she quickly encounters the richest kids in school, a clique made up of luke riordan, andre anderson, cate dunlap, and, of course, jordan li. luke, andre, and cate warm up to marie pretty quickly, but jordan is very cold towards marie for no reason, and she doesn’t know why. but it doesn’t even matter, bc soon she realizes her biggest competition for valedictorian is jordan themself, and the two have their little academic rivals to lovers arc.
also, emma is marie’s boarding school roommate who mostly stays on the outskirts of the social scene (she’s happy to observe) but also always know all the gossip and the drama happening. and if it’s a true gossip girl au, someone like sam ends up being gossip girl lmao.
5. childhood friends au—basically canon but if marie and jordan had been as childhood best friends. like they used to live in the same neighborhood and would often play together as children, their parents were all friends; they were basically inseparable. and then when they started school, they would ride the bus together, they would do homework together. and marie being the first person to know about jordan’s powers and was there when they manifested, and was the first person to fully accept not only just their powers, but their identity as well.
but then marie’s dad gets a job offer in a different city, a different state, and at twelve and fourteen years old, the two are ripped apart for the first time. they promise to email each other everyday, and they do for two years straight until marie stops emailing one day. and jordan keeps trying to contact her, emails her constantly, tries for about a year until they give up. and they’re So angry at marie, bc it’s like they’ve been abandoned yet again. they’re So deeply hurt and betrayed. they tell themselves they don’t need her and they should just forget about her and they almost succeed.
they’ve almost managed to completely forget the best friend they’ve ever had until her application shows up in the crime-fighting applications database thing (or whatever its called idk.) and they’re like, just stunned, because as far as they were aware, marie was not a supe, and she had pretty much ceased to exist outside of distant memories from their childhood. and even then, it’s still as if she doesn’t exist, with her non-existent social media presence, and no experience in crime-fighting whatsoever.
and so they reject her application, bc of her lack of qualifications, because they weren’t prepared for her to exist to them again. they had just gotten used to her absence, and it still hurt them so bad that she had forgotten them so quickly. and even though they would hardly admit it, a part of them was trying to protect her, though from what exactly, they couldn’t say.
meanwhile, marie had been forced to stop emailing once she arrived at red river. and to be honest, even if she could, she doesn’t think she could’ve continued to email jordan like everything was fine. and so she cut off contact completely, even though it hurt her so much.
around the age of 16/17, marie realized she needed a plan to get out of red river. getting adopted was so unlikely, and she couldn’t stomach the thought of elmira. and then she saw jordan’s face on a brochure for a godolkin university and a plan begins to form in her mind. and when she gets the email that she’s been offered a full ride to god u, she finally lets herself hope. not only for future where she’s successful and her sister forgives her, but also that maybe jordan still remembers her and maybe they’ll be able to pick up where they left off all those years ago.
and marie is so disappointed that she let herself hope for that when she finally comes face to face with her old best friend years later and finds that they want nothing to do with her.
105 notes · View notes
Text
I saw a post and it made me mad because my girl deserves respect
Tumblr media
Aang couldn't do what she did and Korra couldn't do what Aang did but they're both valid.
14 notes · View notes
dnangelic · 18 days
Text
sometimes i think abt towa and argentine in the very last manga chapter n cry
#*・゚⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT.#waaaa waaaa my lucifer my boy-king and the respect and power he doesn't even want but deserves sm#dark wouldnt want towa n argentine's help if he could go without it!! all his theft has been bc he cared#n its the fact he n dai care tht they genuinely deserve the sort of trust respect n acknowledgement from the niwa fam#that the rest of the world who doesnt properly or intimately know the likes of dark n dai doesnt afford them#i justttt wooooughhhh towa argentine gratefully graciously bowing themselves with fealty#to dark who's always been bearing all this insane burden and self-expectation alone#all by himself#afraid even of that solitude but nevertheless doing everything he could for the sake of#what he felt was right saving the artworks saving precious things even if he had to steal them away and disparage himself#more and more (the more he succeeds the more he disgraces himself as a villain and a criminal)#aaaa waaaa INNER NIWA FAM CHARAS r just so special.... THEY GET TO SEE IT ALL...#how heavy the pressure is on dark n dai both actually despite the superficial layers like elmroot says#the 'outer self' that enjoys being a phantom thief and then the inner that 'hunts his own kind'#how tired dark is sometimes...#well. w/e. point is niwa fam chara writers who ever take this into account ill kiss u forever#dark can be annoying or behave in spoiled/lazy/belligerent ways sometimes but it rlly makes him and dai more like the#rebel angel leader / boy king example i try to write them as. they still care ofc they doooo#it's just they're the equivalent of the highest seat holding together their little country#their miniature empire that dark n the niwa have built up over yrs n yrs n yrs!!#dark never claims himself a king or a prince he doesn't throw his weight or titles around like that#but between paradise lost and POTO's occasional angel of darkness/PRINCE of darkness#the vibes are there in between the lines. they r right there. this dude has so much hes taking responsibility for#even though he doesn't even Have To. but in doing so- he is. and SHOULD rightly be supported#in the manner of someone in service demonstrating loyalty to him#ok. ramble over
9 notes · View notes
sunshineandviolets · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
girl you literally just met her and she spilt coffee on you
like i know the lesbians move fast but damn!!!
25 notes · View notes
aspiringnexu · 1 year
Text
Headcanon that Elves generally keep to themselves not through the aloofness brought about because of their immortality but because they are fucking helpless when it comes to mortal children.
Any mortal children. Man, Hobbit, Dwarf, any kid. Elflings are beloved for a reason but Elflings are still Elves at heart and do not possess the frankly worrying amounts of curiosity and determination that mortal children have and which gives them a certain aura of adorable that the Eldar cannot resist.
I know Elrond took Aragorn in because they took his mother in but I cannot help but think he also saw a tiny human and it clicked in his (admittedly half-Elven but it still counts) brain that this is an adorable baby and he needs doting on.
83 notes · View notes
hemminicky · 6 months
Text
I'm currently too busy to completely freak out about the Jean book news, but believe me that I'm going feral in the most low-energy, lying on the floor, no expression on my face kind of way.
10 notes · View notes
choices-binglebonkus · 9 months
Note
Another infidelity book?!💀 are they so obsessed with ruining a marriage!? and why the wife must be always the bad guy?!
I wish I understood, but I don’t.
13 notes · View notes
hillbillyhipster84 · 1 year
Text
Open Requests! Sample of some of the stuff I do! All my artwork and goofy stuff can be seen on tumblr (hillbillyhipster84). My growing RDR2 illustrated fanfics are on AO3 (hillbillyhipster84). And my original Western Comic “Steal Away to Me” is on WebToons.com. Also a future podcast is in the works, called “Ride With Me: The Queerness of Red Dead Redemption 2”. Give me a follow too on Twitter (hllbllyhipster) and Instagram (hllbllyhipster84)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes
radarchives · 2 years
Note
everytime i see that inheritance money ss of mammon i think of that one fic of him where he absolutely rocked the hell outta lucifer and punted him into the ground
the one what now
but honestly. even without context, lucifer being lucifer i just know he deserved it
24 notes · View notes
cierics · 2 years
Text
where's that text post that's like 'i love dragon age so much i wish it was good'
1 note · View note
ohnoitstbskyen · 4 months
Text
re: Somerton
Not for nothing, but I think we should remember that James Somerton's fans and subscribers are normal people, just like you. They are people who received his output in good faith, and extended to him a normal amount of grace and benefit of the doubt, which he took advantage of.
I don't think it's helpful to respond to the exposé on Somerton with sentiments along the lines of "wow, how could anyone ever think THIS GUY'S videos were any good, ha ha ha, how did he ever get subscribers?" because 1) you have the substantial benefit of hindsight and a disengaged outsider perspective, and 2) it's a rhetoric that creates a divide between you (refined, savvy, smart, sophisticated) and Somerton's audience (gullible, unrefined, easily taken advantage of, terrible taste), which is a false divide, with a false sense of security.
Somerton's success happened because he stole good writing. He found interesting, insightful, in-depth work done by other people, applied the one skill he actually has which is marketing, and re-packaged it as his own. He targeted a market which is starving for the exact kind of writing he was stealing, and pushed his audience to disengage from sources that conflicted with him.
Hbomberguy makes this point in his exposé video: good queer writing is hard to find and incredibly easy to lose. The writers Somerton stole from were often poor or precarious, writing freelance work for small circles under shitty conditions, without the means or the reach or the privileges necessary to find bigger markets. And, as Hbomb demonstrated, when people did discover Somerton's plagiarism, he used his substantial audience to hound them away and dissuade anyone else from trying to hold him accountable.
He stole queer writing by marginalized people, about experiences and perspectives that people are desperate to hear more about, and even if his delivery and aesthetics were naff, his words resonated with people because the original writers who actually wrote them poured their goddamn hearts and souls into it.
Somerton also maintained a consistent narrative of persecution and marginalization about himself. He took the plain truth, which is that queer people and perspectives are discriminated against, and worked that into a story about himself as a lone, brave truth-teller, daring to voice an authentic queer perspective, constantly beset by bigots and adversaries who sought to tear him down. As @aranock, who works with some of the people he targeted, writes in this post, Somerton weaponized whatever casual bias and bigotry he could find in his audience to reinforce his me vs them narrative (usually misogyny and various forms of transphobia), which is what grifters do. They find a vulnerable thread in a community and pull on it. And while you may not have the particular vulnerability that he exploited, you do have vulnerabilities, and they can be exploited too.
People felt compelled to support him, even if his work was sometimes shoddy, because he presented himself as a vulnerable, marginalized person in need of help, he pulled on that vulnerable thread.
Again, he has a degree in marketing, and just like propaganda, nobody is immune to marketing.
YouTube as a system is set up to push for more, constantly more. More content, more videos, more output, more more more more, and part of Somerton and Illuminaughty's success was their ability to push out large amounts of content to the hungry algorithm, even if it was of inferior quality. The algorithm rewarded their volume of output with more eyeballs and attention, and therefore more opportunities to find people who were vulnerable to their grift.
It is a system which quite literally rewards the exact kind of plagiarism that they do, because watch-time and engagement are easily measurable metrics for a corporation, and academic rigor is not. There is pressure to deliver, and a lot of rewards to gain from cutting corners to do it.
Somerton and Illuminaughty and Internet Historian are extreme and very obvious cases, so blatant that you can make a four hour video essay exposing what they've done, but the vast majority of this kind of plagiarism isn't going to be obvious - sometimes it might not even be obvious to the people who are doing it. Casual plagiarism is endemic to the modern internet, and most people don't get educated on what the exact boundaries are between proper sourcing and quoting vs plagiarizing. We had an entire course module at my university aimed at teaching students the exact differences and definitions, and people still made good faith mistakes in their essays and papers that they had to learn to correct during their education.
All of this to say: it is extremely easy in hindsight to call Somerton's work shitty and shoddy, his aesthetics flat and uninspired, and to imagine that as a sophisticated person with good taste and critical faculties, you would never be taken in by this kind of grifter. It is extremely easy to distance yourself from the people he preyed on, and imagine that you will never have to worry about your fave doing your dirty like that.
But part of the point of Hbomberguy's video is that plagiarism is extremely easy to get away with, and often difficult for the average person to spot and call out, and with the rise of AI tools blurring the lines even further, it is not going to get any easier.
So I think we should resist the temptation to think of Somerton's audience as people with bad taste and poor faculties. We should resist the temptation to distance ourselves from the perfectly normal people he preyed on. Many times in your life, a modestly clever man with a marketing degree has fooled you too.
On a personal note, by the same token, I am resisting the temptation to assume that I am too good to be vulnerable to the systemic pressures that produced Somerton and Illuminaughty. No, I've never made a video by word-for-word reciting someone else's work, but I know for a fact that I could do a better job of double-checking my work and citing my sources. I feel the exact same pressure to get a video out as fast as possible, I have the exact same rewards dangled in front of me by YouTube as a platform, and I can't pretend it doesn't affect my work. To me, Hbomb's video felt like a wake-up call to do better.
8K notes · View notes
thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months
Text
teamwork
kinktober, day twenty-six
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: ........I mean, how could i not? it's a classic.
summary: “oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 
warnings: reader x pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson), smut, slight dubcon, pro athlete au (even though i know the majority of them are american, i’m just gonna say that they play for a team somewhere else just so that i don’t have to say soccer, it hurts my soul), the old oops i accidentally walked into the locker room trope, gangbang, everyone's a hoe, established relationship, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, handjobs, oral, thigh riding, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, bukkake, spit kink, squirting, impact play, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
word count: 5400
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
Tumblr media
“You were amazing out there,” you purred between pecks as Steve’s firm thigh, slotted between your own, rubbed against your core, your short skirt flaring out over the shorts of his uniform. 
“Thank you,” he chuckled, his lips fluttering down your neck as he uttered, “you know, I think was even better with you in the audience,” nudging his leg more determinedly against you as you melted against the wall he had you pressed against, “like you brought me luck or something.”
Just then, as you felt yourself begin to soak through your underwear and mark your boyfriend’s uniform, someone from further down the hallway poked their head out of a door and shouted, “hey, Rogers!” reeling back from the crook of your neck with a peeved exhaled, Steve cast his glance in the individual's direction, “coach wants a word with you in his office.”
“Alright, thanks,” he nodded before turning his attention back to you, arms firm on either side of your head, cosily caging you in as he spoke, “I’ll be right back,” his leg reluctantly retracted from your warmth, “there is lounge down around the corner there that should be on the quiet side about now if you don’t wanna wait out here,” he offered a vague nod to his left before dipping down to near your lips one last time. 
Smile growing wide at his considerateness, you breathed, “okay,” but the kiss you thought he wanted to give to you never came as his nose just ghosted against your own, seemingly savouring the moment before you felt him shift and his finger disappeared below your skirt, “Steve, what are you-,” but the rest of your sentence never saw the light of day as, with a daring smirk on his lips, Steve swiftly kneeled down before you and snatched your underwear down past your knees, keeping his eyes on yours as he methodically manoeuvred your jelly like legs to steal the sodden garment completely. 
“I’ll come find you in a bit, yeah?” he placed a playful peck right above your knees before straightening back up. 
“Steve!” you hazily giggled as he began to disappear down the corridor. 
“10 minutes, 15 tops!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away from your stunned form, “then I’m claiming my prize!” 
With a breathy chuckle still billowing from your lips, you pulled out your phone and rounded the corner, scrolling through your options of temporary entertainment as you neared the room that you could supposedly wait in.
Eyes glued to the small screen in your hands, you didn’t even glance up as you reached the first door you approached, not assuming there were any other options, you simply pushed it open and strolled in. 
Fully expecting that you were nearing a couch or something soon, the room you’d blindly entered turned out to not be the lounge you’d thought it was, but instead, the team’s locker room as you swiftly walked straight into a broad and bare chest. 
“Wow, I’m sorry-,” your eyes tore away from your screen to finally discover where you were. Vision growing wide, you stared up at the athlete before you, his golden mane rustling from the collision, “I-I-…”
Blinking up at Thor, your own name even escaped your memory as you found yourself in the very last place you should have wandered into.
From off to the side, you heard the voice of Tony holler, “hey sweetheart, fans aren’t allowed in here,” before leaning closer to the sandy buzzcut beside him and muttering quietly, “I thought they said they had tightened security around here…”
With your feet still frozen to the floor, your mouth hung agape as your eyes glazed over the recognisable individuals throughout the room, all in various states of undress. As Thor’s towering form moved past, walking over to snatch up a towel, someone else dexterously took his place, “wait a second, I recognise you,” you blinked back at the guy who rarely left your boyfriend’s side, “you’re Cap’s new girl, aren’t you?”
“I-I-, yeah,” you stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in here-”
“Oh, but you did,” Bucky teasingly took a step closer. 
“I was, uh, looking for the lounge, and I was just staring at my phone,” you swallowed thickly as someone out of the corner of your eye peeled off their shirt, “I’m so sorry, I'll get out,” but as you whirled around to bolt out of there, you just collided with another individual that had slyly slotted in between you and the only way out of here. 
“You’re cute,” you heard Bucky continue as you blinked up at Pietro, his athletic physique now completely blocking the exit, just as Thor's, the team's goalie, would do before the vast net during an intense game, “isn’t she cute, guys?”
Soft echoes of agreeance bounced off the walls before Pietro smiled down at you, “what’s your name, baby?” his accent sending a shiver straight down your spine. 
“Y/n…” you softly uttered, your heartbeat deafening in your ears, growing and rippling out from where it was still thumping from between your thighs.
“That’s a pretty name,” his eyes washed over your visage, licking it up like he was at a museum. 
“So, tell us, Y/n,” you spun back around at the sound of Bucky’s timbre, “did you really just not pay attention or did you perhaps walk in here on purpose?”
“No!” you squeaked, “I swear, I didn’t-”
“Because I think you were trying to catch a little glimpse,” he teasingly cut you off with a soft tilt of his head. 
“Oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 
“No, I wasn’t trying anything, I-,” the rest of your plea got suddenly swapped out with a shuttering gasp as the player sitting on the bench beside you had begun to ghost his hand against the goosebump-ridden flesh of your leg, sneakily twisting his position enough to catch a glimpse as his touch carelessly bushed against your short skirt, making it briefly fluff out enough for him to notice. 
“Hey,” Sam boomed to the rest of the team, “she’s not wearing any panties!”
“She’s not?” Thor turned his head to join the festivity entirely.
“Fuck,” you heard Clint curse gutturally, “you came to the game like that?”
From right beside him, Tony bit down on his smirk, “what a little fucking slut…” 
“No, it wasn’t-”
But before you could manage to convince them, Pietro pushed your form lightly and sent you directly into Bucky’s waiting arms. With your back arched like a ski slope, your short skirt rose up, covering virtually nothing, especially after you’d had your undergarments stolen, and granted the men behind you a pornographic view of the state Steve had left you in. 
Catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Bucky tilted your head up to catch your hazy eye, “why don’t you wait here with us?”
“I-…” you blinked back at him, feeling your chest rise and fall rapidly against his. 
“Rogers won’t mind,” he shook his head reassuringly, fingers shifting to gently caress you’re your heated cheek, “promise.”
“Yeah,” Pietro’s voice resonated vibrantly from behind you once more, “we always take good care of his girls…” 
Utterly spellbound by his ocean gaze, your head nodded fuzzily, “o-okay,” your breaths came in shaky as you spoke, “I guess if you say Steve wouldn’t mind, then I could probably just hang out in here for a bit till he gets back.”
“Great!” Sam clapped his hands together, the sudden noise causing you to jump out of the burly arms that held you. 
Leaning back against his locker, Clint then asked, “so did you enjoy the game?”
“Oh, sure,” with clumsy words flowing from your lips, your eyes traced Thor’s half-naked form as he crossed the room, “it was fun, I mean, you guys played really well, congrats on the win by the way.”
“Aw, thanks,” the man your gaze was locked upon sniggered as he settled in beside Tony, then leaned in to mutter in his ear just loud enough for you to catch, “Cap really wasn’t bluffing about her.”
“Dude, I know,” Tony harmonized lowly before raising his voice, “so, Y/n!” he slyly cleared his throat, “you never did tell us why you came to our game commando. Did you do that for us?”
“Oh, I-…” you averted your gaze, attempting to explain it with an airy laugh, “that wasn’t me, Steve kinda stole them a few minutes ago.”
Counting from behind you, Pietro challenged, “oh, Steve stole them, did he now?”
“Yeah,” you nodded bashfully. 
“And just why would he do such a thing?”
“I-…” you redirected your vision up towards the ceiling, “I think it’s easy enough to deduce what he was thinking.”
“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it,” Pietro playfully stepped closer, tilting his head to catch your nervous gaze. 
“Come on, honey,” Sam’s tongue flickered out to glisten up his smirk, “don’t get shy on us now.”
Gnawing on your bottom lip, you then confessed with an exhale, “…we were gonna go celebrate…”
“Celebrate? Really?” Bucky’s gaze gleamed back at you in amusement, “well, that sounds fun, doesn’t it sound fun, guys?” he didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he countered to the others, their enthusiastic replies swiftly filling the thick air. Slowly leaning in close, he tugged a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, “you know what I think?” your head instantly shook, hypnotically granting him the answer to continue, “I think we deserve some celebrating as well, don’t you think? I mean, it wasn’t only Rogers out there on the field. Don’t we deserve a prize as well?”
As he cradled your face, all you could do was melt, “I-… I guess so…”
Closing the short distance, Bucky planted a feathery kiss upon your lips before tilting his head back ever so slightly to flash you a playful glance, “yeah?” his words were just above a whisper, “you wanna celebrate with us till Rogers gets back?”
With starry eyes, you blinked back up at the football player and hummed, utterly spellbound, “uh-huh,” before his lips pressed against yours once more, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. 
Letting go of your face, his silky touch casketed down your form like a waterfall, flutteringly roaming, up and down, each time carelessly catching your skirt and letting it gather up with his hungry movements. 
As you purred enchantedly against Bucky’s lips, Pietro behind you sank down to his knees, his intentions becoming clear as you began to feel soft pecks flutter across the backs of your thighs, his fingertips raking over your tingling skin in sloppy patterns. 
But as his caresses danced their way further north up your flesh, I didn’t take long before the greedy man dove head first into what he truly wanted to kiss, rendering you to tear away from Bucky’s lips with a dizzying pant, “oh my god,” and bury your face in his brawny chest. 
Lapping against your soppy folds, Pietro let go of your puffy pearl with a pop, briefly pulling back to share, “fuck, she tastes good.”
“Oh yeah?” Thor breathed from the sidelines. 
“Like fucking sunshine and rainbows,” he elaborated with gravelly desperation in his tone before latching onto your core once more. 
You barely noticed when people stepped closer, scarcely knowing whose hands were exploring your every inch, all you knew was how incredible they made you feel. 
Squeezing your boobs through your thin shirt, nipples pebbly and clear through the fabric, you felt Tony’s breath tickle your ear, “you mind taking this off for us, sweetheart?”
Eyes fluttering over your shoulder to find him, you simply raised your arms high above your head and let them yank your t-shirt off and merrily discover how you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on this morning. 
Glancing down, you watched as Clint cupped your softness in his wide palms, “damn, look at these fucking tits,” he gave them a little jiggle before dipping his head down low to place a few pecks along them. With the left of your small buds swiftly getting captured by his lips, a different hand took over palming your right as your fingers found Clint’s short hair, your nails scraping gently along his scalp, “you like that, hon?” he blinked up at you as he sucked, friskily nipping at your sensitive skin, “you like having these little nipples played with, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nodded hazily as someone reached out to pinch harshly the one not getting slobbered. 
“What else do you like, huh?” Bucky asked, his radiating form still pressed up against you. Capturing your chin, his thumb extended to brush over your lips, “you like having something in this pretty little mouth of yours?” poking it in, the pad of his finger softly ran across your tongue before your lips enclosed around him, your head blissfully bobbing as you sucked on his digit, “yeah? You wanna suck our cocks?” he retracted his digit, smearing saliva across your cheek as you offered him a foggy nod, “you think you can handle all of us at once?”
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted with excitement bubbling in your belly, “I’ve never been with more than just one person at a time.”
“Oh no, really?” Tony rumbled playfully, “you’ve never been shared by more?” he palmed your tit roughly as you craned your neck to gaze at him, “what a fucking shame, truly, you deserve to be worshipped like a goddess.”
“Don’t you worry, darling,” Thor smirked, “we’ll help you,” before Pietro as the last one distanced himself, letting go of your petals with a pop, as you sank down to the floor.
You hadn’t really noticed before, but now that you were at the right eye level, it became impossible not to take in the team’s enthusiasm. Most of them were already touching themselves and some even had already whipped their cocks out, the vision causing your eyelids to flutter as your brain turned molten at the possibilities. 
“O-oh, wow,” your eyes grew to the size of plates as they tugged their shorts down, “I-I-,” lengths springing free all around you, “I don’t know where to start… wow…” a giggle suddenly began to bubble out of you as you tore your stare away from their erections to find their eyes, “h-hi.”
Grasping your hand in his, Bucky then wrapped your fingers around his girth, smiling down at you as he throbbed for you, “hey, baby.”
“You’ll all so-,” your dazed gaze flickered around at them all, “wow…”
Raising your other hand up, you enclosed it around Clint, testing out a gentle jerk to gauge their reactions. 
“Yeah, right back at ya,” Clint echoed your compliments as his mouth fell open, utterly spellbound by your tender efforts. 
Catching Pietro’s eye, you slowly leaned in and gave his tip a sweet kiss, smile wide as you then licked it a few times as if he was a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day, “oh, shit,” he groaned, the grip he had around his base tightening, “open up for me, baby,” parting your lips, he then slowly rocked forward to fill up your mouth slightly, “yeah, just like that,” you felt his pulse against your tongue, “fuck…”
Head bopping gently at a leisurely pace, drooling blissfully around Pietro’s bulbous head, you shifted your hands, eyes fluttering in an attempt to locate the others, Sam and Thor then instead came to your rescue by seizing your flailing hands and bringing them to what you sought. 
When you pulled back from Pietro to catch your breath, his dick falling from your swollen lips with a crisp pop, you barely managed to suck in one whole breath before Tony’s hands seized either side of your face, bringing you close and sliding his cock in past your gasp. 
“Here you go,” he groaned as he rolled his hips, instantly going so deep that he tickled the back of your throat. With his fist tight around his base, he reluctantly let you come up for air, pulling back so swiftly as if the lack of your warmth pained him, “show me that tongue, angel,” chest heaving and eyes a daze, your mouth fell open and did as he requested, a hot string of drool promptly dripping from it and connecting to your exposed chest. Grabbing your chin and holding it tight, he leaned down and spit in your mouth, watching only a moment as it sparkled on your tongue before he tapped the weight of his girth against it, playing with it like a rain puddle before he ruthlessly thrust forward so deep that his heavy sack nuzzled against your chin and his tip disappeared deep down your throat, “there you go, honey,” fingers woven in your hair, he kept you still as he fucked your face, “there you go…” 
As Tony selfishly made you choke on his cock, Clint then knelt down beside you and reached under the short skirt that still clung to your hips. One hand still pumping himself, his other fingers found your core. 
“Fuck, she’s so wet,” he groaned, granting your aching clit a few circles before your pussy practically sucked one of his fingers in from how turned on you were, slipping in with no effect at all. Girth falling from your lips, you let out a shuttering gasp. Pressing his cheek against your own, Clint chuckled lowly, “you like that, baby?” lavishly caressing your walls ever so slowly, “that what you need?”
“Oh, god,” you panted, eyes fluttering shut, “yes!”
As he offered you another digit, he kept up a dizzying pattern of pumping his fingers into you, petting against a spot that made your pussy sing, only to retract them in order to rub your puffy pearl, repeating the dance till your legs trembled against the cool tile floor. 
“How about something else, huh?” Thor’s voice cut through your haze, “you wanna get that little pussy stretched out by something else?” your frame then jumped as Clint promptly landed a sharp slap against your soppy folds, forcing your eyes to snap open and your mind to race for an answer. 
Eyes training on Thor, a playful smirk bloomed on your lips, “what do you have in mind?” you asked innocently before you leaned in close and swiped your tongue over his leaking tip. 
Pumping his cock tightly in his fist, he tapped it against your beaming face and chuckled, “you really want me to spell it out for you?” to which you simply giggled under the weight of his length as a reply, one that swiftly got cut short and morphed into a gasp as Clint beside you plucked you up onto your wobbly feet. 
Working as the team that they were, they spun you around so that your backside pressed up against Thor. Hiking your skirt far enough up your waist to render it useless, the blonde athlete gazed down at your dripping mess, nuzzled against him and virtually drooling for him to split you open. 
“Look at that…” he briefly swiped his cock through your folds, parting them with his girth, “so pretty,” before his hips snapped forward and buried himself completely, “fuck…”
Eyes fluttering closed, you let out a shuttering moan as he held you there for a moment, savouring the euphoric sensation as your spine melted back against his chest. As Thor nuzzled you close, filling your cunt up so much that your knees threatened to give out, you felt stray hands find your tits, twisting and tweaking your nipples teasingly as some others grabbed your palms and guided them towards their cocks, enveloping their own around yours and fucking up into your touch. 
“How does she feel?” you heard Tony ask. 
Grip digging into your hips, Thor eased his length out, just halfway, before slamming it back inside, poking a place that pushed the air out of your lungs, “fucking incredible,” his lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. 
When a pair of hands found your face, cupping your flaming cheeks, your eyes dreamily blinked open once more to gaze back at Sam. Briefly pressing his lips against yours, it nearly gave you whiplash when they then manoeuvred your spine to bend, bowing down for your mouth to be aligned with Sam's excitement.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” he pumped his cock before you, smile growing wider as your soft tongue began to swipe across him, “don’t forget the nuts,” he lifted his length far enough out of your reach, groaning loudly as you began to drool all over his jewels as he wished, “that’s it, atta girl…”
Feeling Thor’s hands shift, one of them came to clench your skirt tightly, gathering the fabric on the small of your back and holding onto it as an anchor as the other one descended upon your ass, slapping away in quick succession, just hard enough for it to tingle deliciously. 
It all felt like a blur, like a dream. A beautiful and intoxicating dream. The kind of dream you’d never wanna wake from. 
After cumming all over Thor’s cock, in the hazy daze of it all, it took you a moment to realise that they had all switched out, trading places so that Pietro was now behind you, sliding in and out of your clenching cunt, and Clint was before you, sinking his dick so far down your throat that it left an imprint.
“This how you thought meeting the team would go, huh?” Bucky’s timbre cut through all of the moans, “this what you expected?” his touch was all over you, so hungry that you could barely keep track of it, “you expected us to pass you around and fuck your brains out?” gliding his palm down your spine, he then came to fixate on the little rosebud just shy north of where Pietro was having his fill, “has Cap fucked you here before?”
In between your sloppy pecks across Clint’s cock, you admitted, “a-a couple times.”
“A couple of times,” he chuckled darkly, “really?”
“What a dirty little girl you are, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the ass,” Clint suddenly got down to your level and plucked up your flustered face, bringing you close to his own, “say it, say that you’re a dirty girl.”
The words promptly flowed from you as if you were hypnotised, “I’m a dirty girl.”
Tapping your cheek lightly with his palm, he ordered, “again.”
“I’m a dirty girl.”
Slapping your features harsher this time, “one more time, what are you?”
“A-, fuck,” you whined, brows knitted as your pussy filled the room with soppy melodies of desire, “a dirty girl!
Just then, the door to the locker room burst open and in strolled none other than your boyfriend.
“Alright guys, listen up!” he called out before he truly took in the activities he’d just interrupted, “couch says that-,” but then when his gaze finally trained on your cockdrunk visage, the rest of his important message trailed off, “Y/n?” 
“Oh hey, Cap,” Bucky grinned, none of the players slowing down at the appearance of their leader, “thought we’d keep your girl entertained while you were gone.” 
Closing the door behind him, Steve took a slow step forward and sighed, “guys, seriously?” his glare found each and every one of them, “I was gonna talk to her first,” stride leisurely, he moved closer to you, peeling his shirt off as he did so. Kneeling down before you, getting on your level, a warm smile bloomed upon his lips as his eyes locked with your hazy ones, “hey baby.”
“S-Steve,” you whimpered, wanting so badly to explain, but unable to do anything other than melt even further. 
“How are you doing, huh?” the back of his knuckles softly ghosted down your cheek as his gentle tone washed over you like a warm cup of tea, “you still wanna tell me how well I played today or are you too busy telling the rest of the team?” 
“No, please don’t go,” you grabbed onto his tender touch, “please!”
Straightening back up to his full height, he pulled his shorts down and let his cock spring free, slapping his toned abdomen with its enthusiasm. 
“You mind?” he offered Pietro a nod before the man complied, easing out, and passing you to Steve’s open arms. Scooping you up, his strong grip curved around your bottom entirely. Pressing your lips to his, you tangled your arms around his neck as he nudged your weeping core against his girth, your cunt already creaming and painting his cock a milky shade.
Carrying you in his arms as if it took no effort at all, Steve raised you up further, aligning you just so before dropping you back down again and letting you sink down onto his dick, the sensation causing a pornographic mewl to escape both of your lips as you let the fevered kiss crumble in order to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“Fucking hell, that’s it,” Steve groaned, lifting you up and down in his grip like a precious little cocksleeve, “that what you needed, huh? You needed me to fuck your pretty little hole?” palming your bottom roughly, he them landed a few swift slaps across it causing even more electricity to course throughout you with the sparks of pleasurable pain, “after the team had their fill, you still needed to feel me?” eyes squeezed shut, your drool smeared against his pulse as you felt him extend a finger and rub a few circles over your other hole, all of the other previous activities already slickening it up enough to make his dance molten and his initiative effortless when he plugged it up, “have me fuck you in front of all of them, give them a good view of what a beautiful mess they’ve made of you… Open your eyes, baby,” hazy vision blinking open, the side of your head stayed plastered against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder as your eyes locked on the spectators, “look at them, look at what you do to them, look at how much they want you.”
Trembling in his arms, so violently that you convulsed off his cock completely, it wasn’t till Sam excitedly pointed out, “oh, she’s a squirter!” that you noticed the gushing waterfall your high had showered Steve with.
“Damn right she is,” Steve smiled proudly, realigning his tender hold as he pressed a soft peck to your temple, “my girl is full of many talents,” with long strides, he then walked up to the bench in the middle of the room and slowly laid down upon it, securely holding your molten form close as he shifted, your body completely plastered on top of his as he cheekily spoke, “in fact, Buck, come over here, help me stuff her a bit more, yeah?” 
Glance swiftly washing over Tony, Bucky asked, “hey, do you still have that-“ 
“Yep, of course,” Tony didn’t need any more to understand, hastily rummaging through his gym bag before tossing his teammate a small bottle of lube, “here!” 
After liberally slickening himself up, you perked up a bit as you felt Bucky’s skin press against your own, your back arching up against his chest as he teased you, nudging his tip against your farmost entrance and rendering your form to yet again give into the ecstasy and recover in a flash. 
But as soon as he confidently sank in at slow and steady pace, a gasp escaped your lungs, “oh my god!”
“What?” Steve smirked beneath you, catching your wild eyes as he teased, “what is it, babe? What’s he doing?”
Mouth agape and brows tightly knitted, you uttered, “he’s fucking my ass.”
“Who’s fucking your ass?” Steve’s mockingly sweet tone washed over you.
“Bucky,” you whimpered as he eased back out till just the essence of him remained. 
“Why don’t you look back at him and say thank you?”
Twisting your head, you found his gaze and hazily managed, “thank you, Bucky,” the sensation of him sinking back in and splitting you apart made it nearly impossible to complete the task. 
“Thank you, what?” Steve fished. 
“Thank you for filling up my ass, Bucky.”
Capturing your face, Bucky cradled it in his hands as he smiled, “you’re so fucking welcome,” before dipping down to steal a sweet kiss, “any time, doll, any time…” 
With your nose nuzzled against Bucky’s, your boyfriend’s low voice once more found your ears, “hey baby? Why don’t you slide my cock back in, huh? Stretch that little pussy out as well?”
Reaching down to seize it, you hummed fuzzily, “mhm,” before slipping it in, your eyes promptly fluttering shut at the ecstasy. 
Their thrusts were slow but immensely intense, with a roughness hiding behind the pace that made you tremble between them. 
“Fucking hell, if you don’t marry this girl, Cap,” you felt Bucky’s boorish fingers wrap around your delicate throat, “one of us will.”
Fighting to peel your blissful eyes open, you first caught sight of Steve’s adoring features beneath you, gazing between your fuzzy expression and your stretched-out holes as if you were some mystical goddesses. But then your vision glanced across the crowd of professional football players, all fixated on you and nobody else, stroking their cocks to the exact pace your holes got filled. 
“I-I-, fuck-…” you whimpered as felt yourself once again near the edge.
“What, are you gonna cum again, sweetheart?” Steve moaned, rolling his hips up into you in a synchronized rhythm, “I can feel you-, christ, you clench down so fucking tight when you’re all stuffed like this,” he snaked his fingers down to strum your aching and overly sensitive clit, your frame nearly bucking away from him as he bullied the painfully puffy pearl. 
“It’s too much, fuck-, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you heard yourself cry, feeling as if you might actually pass out. 
“No, no, baby, you can, you can,” your boyfriend declared determinedly, not slowing down one bit at the sight of your pout, “you can take it, you can cum with the both of us inside of you.”
“B-but it’s so much, I-”
“Don’t worry, we’ve got you, don’t we, Buck?”
“Right here, doll,” Bucky’s warm palm slid down your front and grasped your left tit, his whole arm curving over you like a seatbelt holding you upright and close to him, “just fall and we’ll catch you.”
And with that, your pour pussy poured out everything it had, tears spewing from your eyes at the intensity.
“Aah!” 
Convulsing, you nearly tumbled to the tile below, but they both held you close, safely in their grasp as well as far down on their cocks as your gushing core clambered around them and nearly expelled them entirely. 
Maybe you fell asleep, for even a second, because that’s what it felt like when you blinked your eyes open once more to find your drowsy frame situated on the floor, the lingering aid from a few of the men to get you relocated still remaining as you blinked up at all of them.
Had it truly been that many cocks that had in one way or another been inside of you today?
Smiling up at all seven of them from your position on your wobbly knees, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue roll out once last time as they furiously jerked themselves to completion before you, the grin on your face only growing wider as their cum began to paint your skin.
Twitching and panting, the majority still let their touch linger needily as they floated back down to earth. 
Broad chest heaving with every deep breath, “babe,” Steve bit down on his smirk as he gazed down at the decorated state you were now in, “say thank you to the guys for taking such good care of you.” 
Making your gaze go on a round to catch each and every one of their doting stares, you uttered breathlessly, “thank you.”
Tumblr media
© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
3K notes · View notes
kapriisunz · 8 months
Text
CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader
Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.
Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.
LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS
A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.
p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.
Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.
Tumblr media
Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.
Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.
He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.
his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.
Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.
The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.
Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.
But it seems all too forced.
"Captain?.." You ask.
He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.
You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.
Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him. 
“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.
He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.
“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.
However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.
“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.
You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.
A light bulb lights above your head.
Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.
You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.
You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.
“What are you doing?” He eyes you.
“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.
He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.
You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.
He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.
“You want to take care of your captain?”
He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.
He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.
“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.
You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky
With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.
Your heart pounds against your chest.
You want to please your captain.
You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.
Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.
Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.
With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.
He wants to watch you do this.
“Such a good girl..”
Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.
Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.
You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.
However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.
You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.
You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.
Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.
“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”
Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.
You need relief, and Buggy notices that.
He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.
He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.
You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.
“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.
He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.
You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.
You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.
You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.
You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.
He groans at how tight and warm you are.
He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.
His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.
You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.
And you do.
He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.
At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.
Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.
You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.
Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.
He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.
Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.
He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.
“Buggy. . .”
Fuck, your whine did something.
However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.
Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him
He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.
His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.
He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.
Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.
Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.
4K notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 8 months
Text
Welcome Home, Daddy
The aftermath of when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
Tumblr media
Summary: Bucky was over the moon when he discovered that Y/N was pregnant with his child. But, when the danger that lurks in dark threatened to steal his family away, a fellow soldier decided to come home.
Note: Highly recommend to read 《 Welcome Home... Soldat? 》 for backstory. But, you can also read this as a stand alone (though you might miss some call backs on the soldat's behaviour if you skip)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Words: 7.1k++ (bare with me, please)
Warnings: graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, sudden fluff, tiny bit of angst, google translated russian, and just so much detained anger exploding around, soldat is just deadly yet adorable in this one (i can't even handle it, and i'm the author), this event takes place far in the future after what happened in 《 Welcome Home...Soldat? 》
A/N: Looks like we have the winner for the poll 👀 Who's ready for our lovely soldat to make his appearance again? I know I'm not, but here we are. So, strap in and let's do this!
P/S: Also, I might as well make this as my submission for the seven writing event hosted by @nickfowlerrr 💌 Check out the event masterlist and support the writers by reading and reblogging their stories!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
They say the wrath of a fighter may threatened a heinous war but the wrath of a lover will let the earth drenched in bloody gore. And if a fool was daft enough to tore a lover from his other half, then they might just court themselves right into the hands of death.
And this couldn't be more true, especially if we consider the crime that the soldat was currently committing. Surely, the blood pooling on the floor will forever leave a grim mark that'll haunt the people who ever witness it.
"Where is she?" the soldat prompted the frail woman, limping on the chained chair. Despite the horrid situation, he sounded rather calm when he spoke.
How unfortunate it was for Elle to be associated with Hydra yet to also be so exposed to the dangers of the ghost himself, the Winter Soldier. Hydra may have their suspicion about the soldat making a move, but she didn't expect that she would be involved in the mess of this ordeal.
The cold metal of the soldat's vibranium fingers, particularly his index and thumb, latched themselves on another one of her nails. Her mouth slacked open but no sound was able to be formed when the soldat mercilessly ripped her nail right off her finger.
And oh, the pain was beyond any kind of injury that she had ever experienced, not a even a bullet through her flesh could be compared to this agony of a torture.
He harshly grabbed Elle by the back of her neck, forcing her to watch the blood leaking from the reddened flesh of her fingers, "I asked you a simple question, су́ка (bitch). Where the fuck is she?" The soldat's patience had been running thin and rage had clouded his judgements.
He needed to find her. His precious Родная (darling).
No matter whose neck he needed to slay or whose blood that have to be shed dry. He had to bring his darling home; no matter what it takes.
Unfortunately, it had been almost a month since he lost her.
And no one saw it coming.
Who would've thought that the old Hydra compound that the team raided were meant to be a part of a plan to weaken the Avengers. It was just a distraction filled with unexpected traps and triggers. By the time they flew home, the team were already tired and injured as the result of the raid.
So imagine the desperate struggle and utter panic that Bucky had to go through the moment he stepped his foot into the comfort of their home and had to witness Y/N's exhausted figure fighting for her life.
Hers and the baby's inside.
After hitting the 2 months mark of pregnancy, Bucky decided that Y/N shouldn't be involved in any high stake mission anymore. At first, she only laughed to his statement, thinking he was surely joking but when his stern expression didn't flatter, that was when she reliazed Bucky was not open for negotiation.
Y/N knew it was way too early to settle into her maternal leave but after having a long conversation with Bucky, they both agreed to keep her missions strictly on low-risk stakeouts and desk works at the tower.
It was supposedly be some kind of a precaution for her, to keep her and the baby safe, away from any type harm that might come their way. But, that certainly back fired.
When Bucky's burning anger had pumped him full with high stream of adrenaline, it was as if he went into an auto pilot; a murderous one at that. And soon enough he managed to take down half of Hydra's best agents that joined the mission of collecting Y/N from the tower.
For a moment, it seemed like luck was on their side, at least it felt like it.
It lasted only until Bucky saw how harsh the kick of the enemy landed on Y/N's hip, and how she managed to shield her stomach seconds before her body slammed down to the ground.
That was when fear crawled into his pumping nerves and the roots of it ran extremely cold.
And that was all it takes for Hydra to distract Bucky then immobilize him on the spot with a replica of the Sonic Taser developed by Stark Industries a few years back.
Bucky grunted painfully in protest of the high pitched sonic frequency from the device that overloads his nervous system. His body couldn't help but to slowly paralyzed its movements as his skin turned pale and the strain in his blood vessels became visible.
On the opposite side, Y/N could be seen being forcefully dragged away by a few of the Hydra agents that was left. There were couple of nasty injuries torn all over her body yet she was still stubborn on fighting back.
While she was being pulled farther away from him, she shouted his name loud and desprete, "Bucky!" Hot tears broke from the corner of her eyes as she desperately reach out her hand.
It felt as if she was right there when Bucky's hand was reaching back towards her. Like, a little bit of a push would've been enough to catch her but alas fate was not planning to be merciful.
Bucky's menancing eyes never left her wavering ones as Hydra tortured Bucky by stealing a part of his soul from him; and no one really knew how his heart clenched and torn to the fact that he was helplessly useless when Y/N needed him the most.
And when he only managed to scream back Y/N's name, he was forced to watch her wailed as she was unwillingly being taken away.
The moment when Bucky drowned himself in regret and rage, that was when the Winter Soldier took over his consciousness.
Unfortunately for the soldat, his mortal body was already worn out from all the intense fight that happened prior; he was knocked out right after he took over the body.
But in those few seconds before the darkness consumed him, the soldat managed to catch a glimpse of his darling. He saw the image of her; teary and bruised in the hands of those who created him. The very same monsters who uses him for despicable things.
That was all that he needed to see in order to break those chains around the dark pandora residing deep within his being.
The team was absolutely not ready to deal with the soldat again, this time without Y/N to tame him. Especially when his demands were unrealistic for them to fulfill.
It's been nearly 3 weeks since the incident and they had failed to locate Y/N; repeatedly. Even if they did manage to get some kind of an intel, all the of bases they had raided were basically bunch of abandoned spaces that Hydra used to occupy.
So of course the soldat was agitated. He had every right to be, more so when he thought of the increasing risk of his darling getting hurt in the hands of Hydra. And at this point, those scumbags were just messing with their minds. Especially with his.
"Listen, we're doing our best here, soldat." Steve tried to reason with him but it only fueled the burning flames within the soldat, "ты делаешь недостаточно! (You're not doing enough!)" He spat harshly that he didn't even noticed that he uses Russian language. It seemed like the unkempt irritation had conquered the chaos of his mind.
So that very night, the soldat decided to do this on his own; thus he ran away from the tower in search for his darling. He had to. Especially when he knew precisely why the Avenger was not able to find Y/N as quickly as they should be.
It was because they were the good guys. They were the heros, they were the light. And the soldat was not. In fact, he was the very opposite.
Unlike the Avengers, the soldat was not planning to play  nice and soon enough he managed to find a lead.
Which bring us to this very moment in which he successfully snuck into a Hydra agent's home to interrogate her.
But, in contrast of those Hydra troops that attack the Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, Elle was not even involved in the mission of retrieving Y/N. She was actually on a solo mission to infiltrate a certain high school to collect informations on Peter Parker. Hydra suspected that he might be involved with the new hero appearing in Queens.
However, even if she was not a part of the team mission, she knew bits and pieces of the overall plan, especially the whereabout of the main character herself, Y/N.
However, the appearance of the Winter Soldier in her temporary house was completely unexpected.
It felt like it was just few moments ago that the intel on Y/N's location reached her ears. Then, she distinctly remember the glimpse of those murderous eyes glaring into her soul. Next thing she knew was everything went pitch black.
Even if it was temporary, however it felt so surreal.
The darkness surrounding her.
The bone rattling cold.
It felt like death itself.
But unfortunately for her, the soldat was far from stopping.
Elle was fraying at the edges while the soldat crouch to her level. Even if she could barely reconstruct the unclear and blurry images through her dazed eyes, however, that didn't stop the soldat from maiming the dying woman's soul through his unforgiving gaze.
"Wake up..." he growled as he yanked her face upwards, "...we're not done yet."
It took a while for Elle to finally adjust to the light, after being in the dark for – how she felt like – so long.
After the light hits her vision, the striking pain came next. The pulsing pain surrounding of her right eye, her broken nose, her busted lips, her bleeding skin; neck, chest, arms, and almost every part of her limbs.
Everything were – slowly but surely, in each cuts and bruises on her skin – blooming its pain into existence.
How can she skipped all of this when she lost her consciousness?
Perhaps that was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. By running away from the misery; from her reality.
Elle whined in pain but her voice suggested that she might already torn her throat apart when it sounded more like a broken grunt. Her disoriented gaze fell into her aching fingers, each were missing its nail; the tips of them was where the icky blood trickled from and had shaped a pool of blood on the floor where she rested.
The dim lighting from the room reflected on the surface of the deep-red puddle, revealing the resemblance of it to a mirror. And the blurry image looking back, was the soldat, with a sinister expression on his face.
This game, that they're playing.
It hardly seems fair to one of them. To be tortured if not speaking the truth? That's simply unjust; but if we're talking about fairness, then none of those injuries could ever be compared to the pain Y/N might be going through at this very moment. Every second of Elle's useless stubbornness was costing Y/N's safety.
And the soldat didn't like that. Not one bit.
"You mentioned Spain? Where exactly?" In one swift, harsh motion, the soldat thrust his knife through her thighs, "FUCK!"
The loud scream of pain that tore from Elle's throat was probably the last coherent word that she uttered as the torture continued.
The soldat pulled the knife out and stabbing it into the open wound, he listened to Elle's gasp for a moment, relishing her breathless pleading and the tears now openly streaming down her face.
He stabbed again, twice, each was quick and deep, not caring about the blood that spurted out across his face.
At this point Elle was just a puddle of blabbering mess; streams of saliva pouring out her mouth, sobbing, gasping for air; mixture of grunts, moans and whispers of curses and pleas were all spouted incoherently.
Anger.
Frustration.
Rage.
Wrath.
Even hatred.
The soldat was feeling it all.
It was consuming him, devouring any sanity that was left of Bucky's moral values. The eerie glint in the soldat eyes suggested that he was not planning to stop until she gave him what he wants.
God, if it wasn't for chilling atmosphere around her, Elle might just mistook that she was actually in hell.
"Pyrenees!" She cried out. The soldat instantly stopped when she confessed. He waited for an answer and right on cue, she spoke again, breathless and almost silent as the fear that engulfed her prior refused to release her from its haunting grip. And truthfully she doubt that it will ever let her go, "T-there a secret base n-near the Irati forest."
She exhaled a shaky breath as she pleaded, "S-so please. Please stop this." The was tired of the pain and the numbness that came after. And the soldat knows it.
The room was left silent momentarily, as if he was actually considering her plea but alas he already had plans for her all along, "Shame. You should've killed yourself before I came here."
As he finished the last word, the soldat viciously plunged his knife deep into her neck, digging the sharpness of it through the delicate flesh until it reach the base of the blade.
Elle gasped in response, her hands scrabbling around in effort to break free, to stop all of this. But considering the situation she was in, there was nothing she could do about it other than to take it as it was given to her.
When the motion finally stopped, the soldat simply walked away from the scene as if it was a complete norm for him to behave as he was. He didn't even thought of cleaning the mess he left behind. Or hide the corpse somewhere.
Isn't he afraid that he might leave his tracks for the police to find?
Why would he?
This has been his life for decades on end. His sole purpose of living was to kill. So best believe that the authorities will never be able to link the soldat or Bucky to this crime.
Not today, not ever.
Tumblr media
Through the days that Y/N was locked deep within Hydra's base, she hadn't been treated the worst. In fact, the sick and twisted agents and residents in the facility was more than willing to care for her.
This was all because they wanted her baby.
It was always sickening to hear them referring her child as merely a tool for their success. And the way they worship Y/N like she was a gift from God to fulfill their purpose, was beyond insanity.
"Oh, to have the privilage of bearing the offspring of the Winter Soldier. To be able to create the perfect weapon, unlike the father. It is just honorable."
It made her stomach churned with pure disgust whenever she heard those types of comments floating around her.
Besides the eerily digusting behaviour of the agents, there was also the regular check-ups and the lab tests that she needed to attend. Out of all the things she had to endure these past few weeks, the medical check-up has always dreaded her the most.
There was this constant debate within her troubled mind; of the possibility of Hydra manipulating her baby's health and genes by inserting unknown substance into her.
"Come on, mama. On the bed." The doctor said as he patted his rubber gloved hand on the surface of the rigid single bed.
She always found it vile that the people here calling her by that nickname. It tickled her throat in a way that she wanted to puke all the tasteless gunk that they had fed her with.
As she laid on the bed and let the process went on as it usually do, the doctor suddenly stopped everything that he was doing. At first she was weirded out by the irregular act of the man, but when she felt the vibration on the ground and the rushing footsteps from the floor above her, she knew exactly why the doctor suddenly froze on his spot.
And the emergency siren that shortly blared after, had only confirmed her speculation.
But mostly, it was the panic in the doctor's eyes that gave him away; then when Y/N noticed the man scrambled to search the drawers from one of the cabinet, she knew that he was up to no good.
The second that the doctor's hurried his steps towards her with a syringe in his hand, Y/N's body immediately recoiled. She quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist and twisted it back until the syringe dropped from his hold.
The man cursed under his breath and decided to take her by force when he grabbed a handful of her hair, almost dragging her out of the bed. Y/N shrieked painfully while her hands blindly grabbing the silver tray by the bed next to her.
She then slammed it hard against his head, and watched the contents on the tray fell and scatter onto her. She took quick skim over all the tools and saw a potential weapon for her defence; a scissor.
"Stay still, mama. Or the baby will get hurt." The doctor foolishly threatened.
Maybe it was her defence mechanism or maybe it was just her motherly instinct kicking in but something just snapped inside of her when he said those words. There was this incredibly strong urge to either fight or take flight.
Of course she could easily slipped away and make a run for it but she just couldn't risk it. Especially when her baby's life was currently at stake. So, after a short moment of hesitation, she swiftly grabbed the scissors and surge it through his ribs. The man wailed in pain as he staggered off the bed and fell onto the floor.
You'd thought a single yet firm stab through the guts was enough to quench Y/N's need of fighting back but no. Apparently, the haywire of her nerves had drove her feral and she needed him to be soulless by the time she walk out the room.
That had forced her to nearly jumped on him like a predator pinning on a meek prey and the lack of struggling on the victim's side had only gave her full control to dominate him.
Then all of the sudden, the doctor felt another strike of the pain, digging into the flesh of his chest.
He woefully cried in extreme pain while Y/N did not utter a single word or let out any sound, she stayed silent as she thrusts the scissor in and out his flesh.
Each surge was vicious than the previous. Each stab was gradually speeding up as the motion increases it's number of repetition.
She completely let her emotions took over her sanity.
Until what's left in the room was only the sloshing and splashing sound of blood seeping through every thrust, as she continued to violate the body of the corpse.
Until the calm puddle of blood on floor rippled as the tears that broke from her eyes dropped on it's surface.
And when she realized that the doctor was long dead, that broke Y/N out from her feral state. Realizing what she had done; she shakily loosen her grip on the scissors and scrambled off from the lifeless body.
Her breath was near erratic; it was a chaos of unsteady rhythm as her words was lost at the tip of her tongue. She jolted in shock when the commotion in the facility got louder than before, reminding her that Bucky was there to save her.
Y/N felt a sob choking in her throat as her hands searched her stomach to coax the child in her womb, "It's okay sweet bean, daddy's here for us."
Tumblr media
Have you ever heard how ear-ringingly loud it is when it's hailing? How the sounds of the frozen raindrops hitting – the top of your car or the roof of the shades of an outdoor café table – can completely mute your words for anyone to hear?
That has nothing compared to the thundering sounds that echoed throughout the whole facility. The shots were fired from multiple range of stolen guns, all were coming from one moving figure.
The once clean grey and white painted walls of the hallways, were now stained and splattered with the color of crimson. The usually empty hallways, were occupied by the dead bodies of fallen Hydra agents. And the distinct scent of well-kept lair, were effortlessly replaced by the unpleasant and pungent smell; a mixture of blood and sweat.
It was a clear trail of the Winter Soldier's deeds.
This place was supposed to be pristine, but now feels more like how it should be; hell.
While the enemies were roaring into their death, the soldat on the other hand was very much the opposite.
Unlike his foe, it took him very little work from the tips of his tongue and much more on the tips of his gun. When the enemies barked like a dog, the soldat pounced like a wolf; silent and resilient.
By nature, the soldat had never been a patient man, especially when it comes to people harming his darling.
Sure, maybe he can tolerate and play along with people who messed with him, but if one were to touch even a strand of hair of his beloved, then they practically reserving themselves a first class ticket of a one-way trip to hell.
And that unhinged tendencies of his only worsen when wrath was the one reigning his mind while hatred was its ruler. His mind was nothing but a chaos of rampage and vengeance. Seeking nothing but blood and death of his foolish foe.
At this point of time, with the amount of life he had taken from the moment he step foot into the gate of the base, to the very stairs he was currently climbing, one could probably matched his heart rate with the rhythm of the shots formed by the bullets he shot.
Magazine upon magazine he reloaded his gun and waste no less than zero bullet as every shot made was accurately deadly and terrifying fatal to his prey.
As the soldat's feet reached half way up the stairs, a Hydra agent's voice spoke from the lower level, "She's on the LG2, we need a team to come and collect her as soon as poss--" A bullet went straight through the top of his head before he could finish his sentence.
And that was the soldat's last ammo.
While he mentally took note on the intel, his feet was quick to jumped into action and made his way down to LG2. As he entered the hallway, his wild eyes wondered around to steal another gun from a dead man's body.
But he rose into a stand, he felt a tip of a cold steel nudged at the back of his head.
Some would call out the soldat's mistake for letting his guard down in the middle of a battle, but another would definitely ridicule the stupidity of that fool's guts for even thinking that the soldat couldn't counter-attack his weak threats.
However, none of the two man managed to made any move towards each other when there was a faster, more accurate trigger was pulled from someone else, from across the hallway.
And that action left an aftermath of the fool's body to drop flat on the floor, quickly finding it's perfect spot with between the other pile of corpses scattered around.
When the soldat turned around, the sharp of his gaze softened almost immediately.
There she was standing there, in the pastel blue of her 'prison' attire. Her hair was a bit messy even if it was tied, and her complexion looked slightly pale with fatigue but to the soldat, she was glowing like angel; despite the blood on her clothes or the gun in her hand.
She was right there.
His heart.
His love.
His darling.
Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. Her pouty lips trembled when the soldat stepped closer and closer towards her, tears threatening to fall as if she haven't done that during all the weeks that she had been here.
The soldat's steps grew faster.
So does Y/N's.
Tap taping until they were almost running towards each other.
Until the moment they reunited in the middle.
Catching each other's lips in a desperate and insatiable kiss, the soldat pulled her body tight around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Both whimpered in a yearning moan, both still had their guns hanging on one of their hands.
So many feelings at once, relief and grief, with each of them had a different story to tell.
The couple kept breaking and mending the kiss ever-so-passionately as if they weren't in the middle of the grave-less cemetery; as if they weren't in the center of the piling corpses.
Briefly opening his eyes, the soldat could see a shadow running towards them. When Y/N heard the footsteps from her back, she knew they need to pull away, but the soldat was firm and stubborn with his hold.
So instead of letting her break the kiss, he groaned in disapproval and pulled her lips back to his. An angry growl vibrated against her lips as he continued to explore her wet and warm mouth.
Caught off-guard she melted to his silent demand, almost forgot that the enemy was right behind her. But, she should've know better when the soldat loosen one of his arms from the embrace and pointed his gun towards the target.
His finger pulled the trigger almost as easily as his teeth tugging into the bottom of her lips. And suddenly the sound of a body collapsing behind didn't matter anymore.
When the soldat felt that he had enough of the sweetness of her kiss, he finally pulled away, at least for now. He whispered dearly, "Родная (darling)..." he cupped her face in his large hands and rested his forehead on hers.
She thought she heard it wrong, but did he just called her darling? It took her a few second to piece it together and realized that this man was not Bucky, that he had relapsed into the Winter Soldier again, "Soldat?"
The soldat smiled and leaned forward to steal a chaste kiss on her lips, "Yes, it's me, мое Родная (my darling)" he cooed as he swept her by her feet, off the bloody ground and carried her in his arm, "I got you, Куколка (little one). You can rest now."
Tumblr media
"We're just wanted make sure she's alright."
"You can follow us if you want so just please--"
"Soldat! You're going to hurt her."
The familiar voices leaked through Y/N's ears as she was drifting through her dreamless slumber. Soon enough, the loud commotion of her surrounding woke her up from the deep sleep.
The words that the Avengers were yelling out became clearer as she gained her consciousness, and the ever-changing movements of the soldat, evading every step the Avengers made to get closer to him, made her aware of the way she was resting in his arms; perfectly cocooned in a form of a bridal carry style.
The soldat halted on his spot when Y/N opened her eyes to see what was going on, "Soldat?" She blinked multiple times as she adjusted to the lights. The menacing frown of the soldat melted into a much softer expression, "Родная(darling), you shouldn't be awake yet." He craddled her closer to him as he cooed.
Where is she? How long was she out? When did she changed her clothes?
"What is happening?" She asked as she peered over his shoulder to see Natasha sighing in relief, "Sweetheart, thank god you're awake."
Y/N then looked over to Steve, "You've been gone for weeks, y/n. We got news about your rescue yesterday, and you guys just arrived home. Now, if we could just to take you to the medbay and get you check-up, that'll be great." He briefly explained.
"Yeah, that's all we want isn't it? But, someone just had to be sappy and refuse to let anyone touch you. You know, how it is with the soldier." Tony quickly intercepted.
The soldat didn't pay them any attention now that his darling was awake. He was merely focusing on whispering the sweetest things as he traces delicate trails of kisses on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, basically all over her face.
Sam took it as opportunity to get closer when the soldat was distracted on suffocating Y/N with kisses. But he should learn by now how alert and agile the soldat can be, especially when he have Y/N close to his proximity.
So, when Sam took a step closer, the soldat recoiled almost immediately, putting quite of a distance between them.
"Man, if Bucky has a staring problem, then the winter soldier over here has a hogging problem." Sam accusingly pointed at the soldat, only getting grunts as a reply.
Looking at the current situation, Y/N pondered for awhile. As much as she wanted to get herself check-up, it was also wise to not pressure the soldat to give her away.
Considering what she witnessed at the Hydra base, Y/N knew the risk that comes when we let the soldat dwell in anger for too long.
So she consulted the rest of the team to back down for now, and let the soldat do what he wants. Y/N promised them that she will conviced the soldat to let her get a check-up as soon as possible. But for now, they really need to trust her words.
At first every one of them was reluctant to let her go but in the end they agreed to her suggestion.
When the team spread out and gave some space for the soldat, he didn't waste any time and marched straight to where their bedroom supposed to be. As soon as they arrived at their safe space, the soldat almost threw Y/N onto the bed and swiftly drew a knife from the holster of his thigh as his predatory eyes searched the room.
He refused to move even an inch away from where he stood and remained close to Y/N; shielding her figure with his own.
It was very faint, but the soldat could sensed that they weren't the only ones in the room.
Y/N eyed him curiously, wondering why the soldat was still on edge when he wasn't supposed to. So, she hopped off from the bed and stood on her feet before reaching out to hug the soldat from behind.
"You can put the knife down, soldat. It's just us here." She coaxed but the soldat refused to believe her. He pulled her by the arms, breaking her hug in the process and hold her close to his chest, "There's someone else here."
His actions was rather rougher than he intended it to be; even Y/N was startled by the sudden movement, "Oooff, careful there, soldat. You might give the little one a fright." She chuckled softly as she give her belly a loving rub.
And suddenly his attention was completely focused on Y/N now. Usually his frown symbolized irritation, but this time there was a clear confusion in his eyes. The amount of appalled blinking of his eyes increases when the puzzle pieces in his head started to merge.
The soldat knew that he heard a third heartbeat in the room; that was why he was on alert for threats but apparently he had been closer to the source than he thought was.
In fact, it was right his arms. Or maybe a little bit lower, somewhere around his torso.
Y/N didn't say anything, she simply nodded and smiled up to him as she continued to rub her belly.
When the conclusion finally hits him, the soldat dropped the knife in his hand at the same time he fell on his knees. His gaze never broke from hers, not even a split second, until he was face to face with her tummy.
The soldat leaned one side of his ear closer to her and the thumping sound of the third heartbeat got louder. The discovery had caused him to jolt away as shock decorated his features. He titled his head upwards to Y/N with the same wide, confused look in his blue eyes.
"It's okay, love." She giggled amusingly when the soldat repeated his previous actions. He leaned in and jolted back again as if he couldn't believe what he just heard was real, "Is it... his?" The soldat asked as he implied his existance to be separated from Bucky.
There was a hint of sadness in Y/N's expression when he said it like that. There's been many long conversations that she and Bucky had about the soldat after his first relapse.
Though Bucky was still unsure of his own dissociating self, Y/N on other hand believed that the soldat, this particular man whose drenched the earth with blood just to save her, the same man whose currently on his knees to hear a heartbeat of an unborn child; he deserved a little kindness in his life.
"Yes..." Y/N answered truthfully before she continued, "...and he's yours too."
And that surely knocked the air out of the soldat's lungs, he couldn't tell if she was telling him the truth or was just trying to kill him; either way the butterflies in his chest was suffocating him from the inside.
The soldat couldn't speak a single word; because he didn't know what to say. But there was this beam on his features, light in his eyes, softness on his smile when he dreamily stared at her growing belly.
Y/N took him by his flesh hand and place his palm on her stomach, then she spoke tenderly to the baby inside her, "Wanna say hi to daddy, sweet bean? Say, 'Welcome home, daddy.' "
She knew it was silly, because obviously the child in her womb shouldn't be able to speak, and he was not yet developed enough to be kicking his feet. Hell, they don't even know his gender yet.
But how could she not say it when the soldat looked so damn happy when she did. He looked so peaceful and has this daze and some of those twinkling hearts in those steel-blue eyes of. The soldat sighed in pure joy before he leaned to kiss her stomach.
And as it turns out that was all she needed to do to persuade the soldat to letting her see the doctors. He was there through the whole process, refusing to let go of her hand. It was such a good news to hear that the baby was healthy and there wasn't any foreign substance that might contaminated her during her times in Hydra.
After getting proper medical care and some food in her system, the soldat immediately carry her back to their room to settle down. While she laid on the bed, making up for the lost time to finally get the mental rest she desperately needed, the soldat on the other hand, had made himself comfortable by lying his head on her stomach.
He just couldn't stop; as if he was hypnotised by the melody of the baby's heartbeat. His hand snuck under her shirt, lifting the fabric up to reveal the belly where their miracle resides.
Y/N's droopy eyes followed his actions as she watched how carefully the soldat approached her. Out of habit, her hands absentmindedly rake through the softness of his hair as she held him by the head.
The soldat dotingly caressed the child's sleeping chambers as he leaned closer to it, "...Hi there, little one." he greeted with a quiet and loving whisper.
Immediately, a smile beamed brightly on Y/N's face when the soldat proceed to pamper her belly with countless of tender kisses, "...it's daddy." he introduced himself, as if the baby was able to understand him.
The silence that came after was so sweet and comfortable. And Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to have this without the soldat. She tucked a piece of his loose strand of hair behind his ear when she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving me, soldat."
He briefly lifted his head and smiled up at her, "You know I can't live without you Родная (darling). I will always need you." He declared a truthful confession before turning his attention away. His lips grazed on the skin of her belly as he mumbled against it, "And you too, little one."
Y/N could burst into tears just from this interaction alone but she try not to. She doesn't want to look back at this moment and remember how much she wept, so she blinked her tears away while she watched the soldat spoiled the little buddle of joy inside her with so much endearments.
Even though it was always a happy memory for the soldat when he spend time with his darling, but this... this was rare. And he wanted to cherish it for as long as he could.
The soldat laid on his ears again when he peered from where he had his head rested, his deep gaze captured her attention, "Has he been taking care of you good, darling?" He asked.
The soldat probably had no idea how Bucky adored her; if anyone paid enough attention they might even caught him worshipping the very ground she stepped on.
A breathy chuckle escaped from her mouth as nodded with a drunken grin, "He's the best." She hummed approvingly, "Best husband, and best daddy too." She exclaimed brightly as she glanced at the ring on her finger; it was barely visible through the thick of the soldat's hair.
Surprisingly, the soldat didn't react negatively to her remarks, instead, a proud smile curved on his lips as the pride in his chest overflowed and leaked all through his very being, "Good." He simply said.
The smile lines on the corner of his eyes didn't flatten even when he closed his eyes. For a moment, he tried to silenced everything else around him and focused on the fluttering sounds of the baby's tiny heart.
It might have been the thick haze of lavender smoke in their head or the swarming butterflies in their chest, that they didn't even notice the fatigue that had been slowly taking over them, until the tenderness of their caresses were barely moving.
When the heaviness of her eyes weighted the lids, she sleepily asked the soldat, "Will you still be here when I wake up?" Truth to be told, she was afraid that all of this was just a dream; an escape from reality of the cruel captivity.
The soldat briefly opened his own tired eyes and cooed softly, "I'm always with you, Родная (darling)." And Y/N took it as a promise for her desprete soul to cling on; a ray of hope for her to hold onto, if she ever wakes up in that cell again.
Not long after, both of them lost to the lure of somnolent and their soul quickly drifted into the peaceful dreamland. Soft snores were filling the quiet of the room as their mortal body continued to entangled themselves with each other.
It was safe to say that if Steve would ever barge into the room, he'd probably maxed the storage of his phone with photos of the soldat smushing his face on Y/N's belly as she perfectly curled around him.
Tumblr media
Maybe it was the sunlight leaking through the window or maybe it was the intense gaze she felt burning on the skin of her face. Eitherway, it certainly disturbed her from her sleep.
When her body stirred, Y/N realized that she didn't need to open her eyes to know that last night was not a dream, especially when she can feel a pair of familiar arms wrapping around her waist under her shirt.
Y/N slowly peeled her eyes open to see a recognizable ceiling. Her eyes then trailed to her side and met a pair of blue of eyes staring back at her. Her gaze searched for the soul within him and found the semblance of Bucky reflected in his eyes.
Still dazed from sleep, she continued to watch him blinking at her, slowly and silently, like a cat declaring their love to their human. But even then, he couldn't hide the afterglow of the tears on his face.
"Bucky, honey. Have you been crying?" Her voice rasped from lack of use, yet her tender fingers find themselves crawling across his wet cheeks. 
It was as if her voice was a trigger, and tears quickly reformed in Bucky's eyes again. Y/N gently pulled him to her chest, one hand threading his hair and another rubbing his back as he sobbed in her arms, "It's okay, Bucky. We're okay." She continued to coax him lovingly.
They spend most of the early morning holding each other close and dear. Then when the tears started to lessen, Bucky finally pulled himself away from her. Y/N wiped the excess tears on his cheeks but he caught her hand underneath his; he relished in the relief of her presence when he sighed to her touch.
Bucky's gaze wobbled in the pool of tears in his eyes but he was still determined to speak his mind  "I'm so sorry, doll." He apologized, "I couldn't stop them. Even with this damned serum in me, I still couldn't protect you; both of you." If his defeated voice didn't convey his truth, then the tremble of his touch should be enough.
And Y/N's heart simply shattered for him; what did he meant by that? He did save her though. The winter soldier or Bucky. It didn't matter who but she was here now because of him. She was safe; they both were, "But you saved me, did you not?"
"But, I didn't. The sol--" Before Bucky could even finish his sentence, Y/N quickly cuts in, "The soldat is always going to be a part of you, Bucky. And if he saved me, that means you saved me too." She reassured him.
Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued to persuade him, "And if I could speak for our child, which I absolutely can because I'm his mother, then he would say that he is proud that his strong daddy managed to beat the absolute shit out of those bad guys."
Bucky blurted out a hearty laugh, "I don't think it's good to teach our baby to curse when he is still in your womb, mama." His laugh gradually reduced to a chuckle when he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.
Y/N simply shrugged to his suggestion, "It's not like he wouldn remember this anyway." She smirked playfully.
Another chuckle managed to slip through Bucky's lips before he lowered his face to her tummy, "And you? How's your play date with Winter, hmm sweet bean?" He mumbled as his lips planted on her skin.
Besides the heartbeat of his child, he could also hear the tiny twitching of the baby's limbs moving ever-so-slightly, "Yeah, I bet he spoiled you with lots of kisses and cuddles, huh? Like he did your mommy?" He continued to coo against her belly, unaware of the shock on his wife's face.
"Winter?" A small smile cracked from the corner of her lips. Yes, she was shocked but that doesn't mean she wasn't pleasantly surprised by it.
Bucky didn't even bother to look up at Y/N's face as he was busy blowing raspberries on her stomach, "If he's going to keep popping up in our lives then we might as well call him something else other than 'soldat', don't you think?" He simply said, marking one last kiss on the small growing bulge on her belly, before working his way back up to her face.
Y/N's heart swelled to his gesture and when he laid his head next to hers, she carefully took him by his cheeks, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, "I think he'd love that, Bucky." She whispered against his lips, feeling his smile in return.
Bucky nudges forward to catch her lips again; kissing her slow and sweet as if his whole world has been waiting for this moment. And when the kiss naturally broke, he tempted her with something he knew she couldn't resist, "Now, how about we grab you both something to bite, hmm?"
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
A/N: The use of the title in the fic is suprisingly wholesome despite the insinuation of it, don't you think? Lol. Btw, thank you so much for stopping by and read my work. Leave your thoughts behind for me, I'd love to hear from you!
4K notes · View notes
thebibliosphere · 7 months
Note
I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?
I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.
I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.
We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.
If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.
Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.
They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.
And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.
The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.
So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.
That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.
Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.
They're not.
If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.
Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?
4K notes · View notes