Barrel's Goddess

Laced Around Your Throat

Summary: Your Mob boyfriend knows that the only thing that looks even better than his hand around your throat is his custom made necklace. You’re his girl and the world needs to know it. 

Pairing: Mafia!Steve x Reader, Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2.5K 

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, possessive behavior, exhibitionism, voyeurism,  cockwarming, oral (m receiving), fingering (x 2), choking, very brief daddy kink (mentioned once)

 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘢’𝘥 by the wonderful @whisperlullaby​, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵) However no permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post any parts of my stories anywhere (reblogs are great). 

Check out my Masterlist and Taglist! Requests are closed 

A/N: Requested. 

Steve runs New York with an iron fist, sharing his wealth and power with his best friend Bucky. His legitimate businesses are lucrative fronts for the state’s largest criminal organizations. Rumors run rampant through the boroughs about the golden hair CEO and the mysterious brunet known only to the public as the Winter Soldier, however, no one dares to say anything too loud.

No one is brave enough to risk his wrath. Louder than the rumors of the mob boss are the whispers about what happens to his enemies. 

He has the police in his pocket, the governor on speed dial, and senators begging for a meeting. 

While people know of Steve Rogers, very few know the man behind his meticulously crafted façade. 

Steve has worked hard to keep his name away from his more nefarious dealings, content to let others take credit for his handiwork. It’s easier for him to rule when people are unaware of everything that he owns. His privacy is more important to him than the notoriety that comes with his status. 

There is one thing, one person, he does claim. 

You.

Oh, Steve loves you. You belong to him. His feral need to claim you that grows more powerful each day. He’s not happy until he’s fucked you senseless, so thoroughly and deeply, that you feel him long after he’s slipped out of your tight warm pussy, his passionate lovemaking leaves you wearing his marks all over your soft thighs and chest. 

It’s a vicious cycle, seeing you marked up makes him want to mark you even more. Hearing you scream out his name as he fucks you makes him go harder until you’re wrecked, overstimulated and limp on the bed. A vicious cycle that you can’t get enough of. Neither can he. 

But nothing compares to how his hand curves perfectly around your throat, your skin painted with bruises from his thick fingers, lips, and teeth. Steve knows only one thing will look better around your throat. 

His name. 

He had the necklace designed by a French artist and handcrafted by an Italian jeweler. The black diamonds woven throughout the collar enhanced the colorful crimson rubies, his name etched in the braided tassel that could be split apart and attached to the ends of the necklace, hanging in loops over your collarbone. 

Or it can be left down, dropping between your breasts, his name twisting with each sway of the chain. When Steve saw how perfectly it fit on you, he knew it was worth every penny, he would spend millions to have more commissioned for you. His girl. 

The night he put it on you, seeing his name on against your skin changed something in him. His alpha side reaching new heights. You watched in awe and heady anticipation as he swiftly removed his clothes, ordering you to stay still. 

“Sweetheart, now is not the time to tease me, I can’t be responsible for what I’ll do.” He swore, his voice deepening the longer he stared at you. 

Steve’s hands trembled with the urge to choke you, his desire to be inside you overwhelming his senses, all he could see was you splayed on his gigantic bed, naked and ready for him. The necklace glinting under the lights; the sight fraying his barely there control. When you tugged on it, murmuring his name, he snapped. 

Keep reading

Azriel ~ Beautiful*

Azriel x Reader

* = NSFW. EXPLICIT CONTENT.

Summary: An imagine where you and Azriel find yourselves in the same inn that Rhys and Feyre inhabited 100 years earlier. Hidden feelings and declarations may be made.

Warning: light-ish smut, mention of scars and mental struggles/mental health incl. feelings of self-loathing, being worthless and not good enough, being undeserving of love. Please consider your decision to read this if you are experiencing these feelings.

You are loved. I love you.

Word Count: 3537

I shivered throughly in the cold, teeth chattering lightly from behind my frozen lips. Feyre wasn’t kidding when she’d told us this inn was like an ice box - even to the thick skin of the High Fae.

The order from our esteemed High Lady had led to the necessary overnight stay in the same inn she and Rhys had stayed about a century ago. Feyre and I had become fast friends after the war with Hybern, after the Court of Nightmares had been allowed restricted entry into Velaris as part of Keir’s Darkbringers being…loaned to them.

Velaris was everything I had wanted, everything I had dreamed of. Like Mor, I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares and my kindred heart had spoken to everyone in the inner circle - it hadn’t taken long before I became yet another number.

“Are you alright?” Azriel’s low, deep voice curled around me, another shiver eliciting from me as he closed the door to the room behind us with a soft click.

“Just…cold” I sigh, “Feyre wasn’t kidding.”

Azriel chuckled softly - so softly the sound escaped and vanished into the mist of warm breath it elicited from his mouth.

Turning to face the room, I realised there wasn’t much in it - just grey floorboards, grey walls and…one bed.

Feyre.

I growled internally, finally coming to the conclusion that this entire trip was most likely merely nothing more than another of her matchmaking schemes she had become known for over the years.

Feyre Cursebreaker, more like Feyre Matchmaker.

It was no secret that Azriel and I had danced over our attraction for each other ever since we’d met.

It was a source of relief for the entire Circle - most notably, Mor, whom with Azriel’s attention somewhat divided from her, had finally come out to us all about 50 years ago, the final nail in the coffin of Azriel’s pining.

The relief of the entire Court was palpable when those longing glances towards Mor, the awkward tension, Cassian’s odd scapegoat role all vanished - but was almost immediately followed with trepidation as those wandering looks turned to me instead.

In some ways, I could understand their frustration, it was so clear how we felt for each other - but we’d never acted on it, never said it. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that went, for the most part…unacknowledged.

For whatever reason - whether it be my own trauma, my own issues, or the fact he had spent over 500 years pining for the same woman…we-I just wasn’t ready to admit it, to say it, to..act on it.

No doubt why Feyre was subtly pulling the strings behind the scenes to make it happen.

“I did request a second bed” Azriel says, “But the innkeeper said they didn’t have one and…”

“It wouldn’t fit” I shake my head, finishing his sentence, “Not in this shoebox, no.”

Azriel nodded in agreement, head ducking just a little lower, “I will sleep on the floor.”

“You will do no such thing” I scoff, prancing toward the bed and slumping onto it, patting the empty space beside me, “We’ve been friends for 100 years, Azriel, I’m sure we can share a bed.”

“Alright” Azriel agrees tentatively, a ghost of a smile flickering upon his sensual lips…I tear my gaze away from those lips and instead meet his eyes as he flares his wings a little, allowing them the stretch before he would undoubtedly need to tuck them in for the rest of the night to avoid them getting caught on the snags in the floorboards.

Halfway to the bed, he stops and begins to disarm himself, beginning with his Siphoned gauntlets, the weapons adorning his legs and arms and any spare space a blade could fit. Truth-Teller, however, remained sheathed at his side.

As he prepared himself for bed, I lay down on the mattress, sliding back towards where the slant in the roof was, tucking myself under the sheets and curling into a ball on my side, facing him - allowing him the side with more room, more space to stretch those wings out.

Noticing my courtesy, he smiles softly in thanks. I duck my head in a silent ‘you’re welcome.’

It had always been like that with us - able to communicate with smiles and nods and gestures, rarely needing to rely on words.

Of course, Feyre liked to see that as a potential mating bond but that…that was, at this point, a slim possibility. The only thing that could potentially unveil it would be…

I growl softly, this time outwardly, at the realisation. Azriel stops mid way from sliding into the bed, shooting a curious and concerned look at me. I shake my head, confirming its not him I’m growling at, and he continues his descent into the bed, wings flaring out and behind him.

Having sex.

That was the only thing that could possibly reveal a mating bond between us and our position now, in the same bed, the same inn that Feyre had-

Fucking Feyre.

Another low growl slips from me and this time, gestures weren’t enough for Azriel as he said, “What’s wrong?”

This time I didn’t dodge the question, “Feyre. And her incessant meddling.”

Another soft smile from Azriel, “You would think she’d get bored of it.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” I scoff, “Not until every one of us is paired up and as happy as she is.”

The statement seemed to make Azriel slightly uncomfortable - perhaps too close to the confession neither of us had made or would make…maybe ever.

I let the room fall into a comfortable quiet and end up finding myself…staring at him. His eyes, more specifically. Almost identical to Cassian’s, but where Cass’s fire brightened them, flaring like a living ember amongst the brown and green and yellows of his golden hazel eyes, Azriel’s was…like a living golden flame made ice.

The brightness, the colour was all there but amongst the multi-hued tones of hazel, there were flickers of ice blue so infinitesimal I hadn’t even noticed them until now, where I was so close, so wholly focused on nothing but those hazel depths…

A soft, almost silent gasp elicited from me as I realised that as I stared at him - into him, drinking in the colours and hues and shades of his eyes…he was also doing the same to me. The sudden sound, too, brought him out of it and his gaze dropped from my eyes - not wholly away from me, never that, but just…focused less on my eyes and more on my entire face, the way a friend would usually look at another while talking.

My brows creased a bit, the slightest of frowns - why did we bother with this dance? With denying what we so clearly felt?

To distract myself from ruminating too much more on those thoughts or from Azriel requesting to know them, I uncurled myself from my little ball, stretching my arms before me, reaching for Azriel’s forearm.

He slid his arm back slightly, hesitating and wary, the scars upon them bleached a stark white, setting them shimmering as if they reflected that light. I paused my own movements, again meeting his eyes, my gaze questioning, beseeching…requesting. With a small tremor of his hand, he extended it towards me, palm down, right above my own extended hand. An offering.

I took his hand in mine, so warm despite the ice in his eyes, the ice in his shadows I could feel emanating from behind me, encasing the rest of the room in darkness. If anyone were to walk in, they’d see nothing but black despite the power of the full moon’s light.

With my other hand, I brushed softly over those harsh scars, the little light illuminating the space we lay casting them an even paler shade, so stark against his tanned skin. A harsh intake of breath again paused me in my movements - well, it was harsh for Azriel. For anyone else it was barely a gasp but for the silent, stalwart spymaster…it was a loud sound.

Meeting his eyes, another question within them, I wait for his answering gaze, the permission to continue. A barely perceptible nod and I continued my exploration of those scars. Cold - colder than the rest of his skin, shimmering with an iridescent light, and smooth and silky compared to his palm, covered in calluses from weapon wielding.

Before I can make myself reconsider, I make the boldest move I’d ever made with him - bending my head before those scars with a reverent gentleness, I brushed my lips across the top of his hand in a soft, light kiss, the silky-smoothness of his scars like a gentle, cool caress.

“Beautiful” I whisper into the darkness, raising my head to meet his gaze once again.

Raw, undiluted emotion swam within them - so at odds against the cold set of his face, the mask he never let slip - in front of me, in front of Mor, in front of Rhys. Nobody.

A glimmer of silver traced the line of his eye - tears. Tears he wouldn’t shed, I knew that, but the sight of them there…it broke me. So did the doubt tinged with disgust.

“They’re beautiful” I enunciated again, forcing him to hear the words, the truth behind them.

Azriel closed his eyes, hand tightening around mine. I squeezed back and his wings flared in the shadow-kissed dark. I could have sworn they also shuddered delicately.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the words I was about to speak. The declaration I was finally going to make.

There would be no more skirting around the feelings we both knew I felt…that he felt.

“Azriel, I-” I swallow loudly, forcing the nerves to abate - even if for just a moment, “I-”

“Don’t say it,” his words were a broken plea, a wrought and destroyed thing, “Please, don’t say it.”

“Why” I breathed, not quite a question, my brows furrowing with hurt - maybe he didn’t feel how I thought he did.

“I’m not worthy of it. I’m a bastard born…nothing” His voice…it destroyed me, wrecked me, shattered me with the pain it portrayed, the full scope of how worthless he felt.

I wished he had just told me he didn’t feel the same. That he just didn’t want to ruin a friendship so personal to him. Or even that he just blatantly wasn’t interested.

Anything but this…self-loathing.

That mask, the one of cold indifference, of calculating calm…it slipped and - faltered completely. That one form of protection he put out to the world, his way of protecting his very soul, now disappeared before me - only for me, perhaps even only now, for this one moment of complete and total vulnerability.

The emotion from his eyes now leaked into every feature of his face, bowing his eyebrows toward his nose in a deep, self-loathing frown, his mouth downturned, his throat bobbing and those tears…one indeed slipped from his eye.

I released one of his hands from my touch, guiding that now free hand to wipe the tear from his cheek, the silvery wetness of it clinging to my finger.

I studied it, the glistening moisture of it that shimmered like suppressed stars on my finger. As beautiful as the rest of him. Perhaps pathetic to think about a tear as such, but it was almost impossible for me to see anything that related to Azriel and not think it a thing of beauty.

When my gaze unfocused from that tear, I went to meet his eyes again only to see his shadows were ensconcing him. He was almost completely invisible, his wings nothing more than blackness. Disappearing before my eyes.

I couldn’t beat it.

“No” I breathe, this time grabbing both of his hands, clutching them to my chest, his scars resting upon my collarbone. I slid myself closer, so close that I encroached upon his shadows, forcing them either to scatter or to envelop me too.

A pause in the shadows movement - considering. With a shuddering breath, I whispered, “Don’t hide from me. Never hide - not from me. Please.”

Suddenly, the shadows surged forward, swallowing us both in their darkness, the moon’s light disappearing as the solid warmth of Azriel’s body chased away the endless cold of them.

His shadows made seeing him impossible and, for a moment, I thought maybe he knew - they knew - what I was about to say next, that he could only stomach hearing me out, allowing me to say my piece if he didn’t have to see the sincerity upon my face…allowing me to see the emotion on his.

“You are worthy” I said, my voice a soft and distraught mess, “By the Mother, Azriel, you are so worthy. You are beautiful and strong and courageous and loyal and I…I love you.”

The shadows stopped their writhing, turning the once roiling darkness into a solid blanket coating us.

“You love me?”

And Mother help me, the uncertainty, the surprise and shock in those words…it fractured me even more.

“Let me see you” I begged. I would not tell him these things with those shadows hiding him from my sight any longer. The shadows stayed. “Azriel, please.”

My wrecked plea was the shadows undoing, his undoing, and they floated back, drifting on that phantom wind to again cover the space between his wings and the door, revealing all of him to me.

“Yes” I whispered, “I do love you. I have loved you for a long while…but you already knew that. We both did.”

The vulnerability seemed to overwhelm him and again those shadows seemed to subconsciously creep closer. Releasing his scarred and beautiful hands from my chest, I let them drop to the bed and slid myself into the last pocket of space between our bodies, my arms sliding between the spaces either side of his face to link around his neck, to hold me unbreakably to him.

“No” I growled, the first harsh words I’d spoken this night, “No more hiding. If your shadows come to claim you, they must now do the same to me.”

He knew I didn’t mean the literal shadows behind him, around him - it was the shadows within him I spoke of.

The fear and pain and self-hate that plagued his every thought, that stopped him from ever pursuing Mor, from pursuing me. No longer would they tell him he didn’t deserve what he wanted, what he desired.

Never again.

It took me a moment to realise he’d restrained the shadows. I met his eyes, to see the emotion there, to realise neither of us had spoken in a while.

“I…” His voice hitched, his breathing uneven and I watched the internal battle behind his eyes of what I said and he felt and what his mental scars and trauma told him he deserved, “I…have always loved you.”

The last four words rushed out like an avalanche, in one smooth motion, encompassed on one breath.

My eyebrows twitched inward, a momentary frown as I fought back the tears that threatened to spill. Instead, I beamed at him, the light radiating from it rivalling the moonlight’s glare behind me.

“You’re beautiful” Azriel whispered in wonder, his attention fixed on that beaming smile - only for him, “So beautiful.”

“Stealing my words now, are you?” I smirk, bringing in some much needed humour to cut the tension of our confessions, the pain and relief that mingled there, “Have you none of your own?”

Azriel’s face contorted into a mask I knew meant trouble, “I don’t need to resort to words”

My toes curled at the possession in his tone, the seductive and sultry promise.

Scenting the change in me, as quickly as the atmosphere of the room was now changing, he smirked, “Not here.”

I pouted and he let out a low snarl, his own hands sliding around my waist to pull me ever closer, flush to his body, legs tangling with mine. I tilted my head upward, exposing the column of my throat in an effort to better meet his eyes with our changed position…and in a silent request.

"Stop that” he growled, the pout still pasted to my face.

“Stop what?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes slightly - and having to clamp down on the laugh that threatened to burst from me at the action.

“Everything” Azriel responded cryptically, “Stop pouting that damn lip, for starters.”

I sucked in a breath, habitually pulling my bottom lip into my mouth and biting softly on it.

That was it.

Azriel swooped upon me, pulling that lip from the cage of my teeth to capture it with his, kissing me possessively as he bit down on my bottom lip himself.

I hitched a leg over his waist, the inside of my knee nocking itself into the slight dip of his torso. It felt so natural - fit so perfectly. Azriel released a hand from my waist to hike that leg higher, to pull the rest of my body into the space it left open.

Releasing my lips, he bowed his forehead to touch mine, sighing softly, “I will not fuck you here, Y/N.”

I whimpered softly and felt the evidence of what that sound did to him upon my stomach. My breathing became difficult, each inhale heavier and deeper than the last.

“Your mouth says no” I chuckled, pushing my chest closer to him, feeling the hardness of him grow in response to the added pressure, “But your body…”

“I have no doubt your own body is begging for it” Azriel cut in, the lust roughening his voice into a serrated edge, “I have no doubt what evidence I’d find between your legs”

Indeed.

My toes curled, my thigh constricting across his body with the same pressure I would apply if my thighs were together…but the prick held tight to my leg, stopping me from withdrawing it and providing the much needed pressure I now craved.

“I will not fuck you here.” He repeated, his head bending to brush his silken lips along the exposed column of my throat, trailing upward along the scope of it to the bottom of my ear where they pressed softly to my earlobe.

I shuddered gently against him and inhaled deeply. He was playing dirty…well, so could I.

Unlocking my fingers from each other, I extended a single hand towards that gauzy membrane, catching his eyes with mine so I could watch what it did to him as I brushed a finger along the inside of his wing, the feeling shockingly similar to his scars.

He flinched and hissed, his breath gusting into the shell of my ear as the hands around my waist and thigh tightened, the length of him hardening even more against my stomach. His eyes were set ablaze - not the simmering ember of Cassian’s but an icy fire - a cold so harsh it burned.

“Forgive me for wanting what I want” I whispered into his own ear, interlacing my fingers again as his wings shivered and then settled, “It has been a century.”

“A century?” Gone was the lust from his voice - though he still remained hard against me, that icy flame still smouldering, “You haven’t…”

I blushed at the unfinished question.

No, actually, I hadn’t been with another male since I’d met Azriel. I’d had opportunities, people who were interested but…I could never bring myself to do it.

No matter how many times Azriel took a female home.

“But I-” That guilt and self-loathing encroached upon his expression again and I shook my head emphatically.

Even Feyre Matchmaker had tried to convince me to take the edge off but despite having a need for touch, for taste, for contact - it was all for him. I refused to settle for any less. Even if that meant becoming a eunuch for the rest of my life.

“It doesn’t matter” I assured him, “We had no obligations, no promises.”

At that, he had no argument, no rebuttal. The guilt, however, still shone there, “I never knew how…deep your feelings went.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t feel as strongly?”

“No, of course not” Azriel rushed and I restrained a giggle, “I do feel for you - so deeply. Perhaps I took those females to bed in order to deny what I felt. Because I feel for you so much - so much so I feared maybe we-”

“Maybe we were mates?”

He nodded once.

“Feared?” I question, peering up at him, “Why feared?”

“Because I am unworthy.”

“Azriel-”

“It will take time, Y/N, before that feeling abates.”

I knew that. Deep down, I knew it.

“Well, from what Feyre tells me the only way we can find out if we’re mates at this point is to…”

“I will not fuck you here” Azriel again said but there was no teasing, no seduction - just blatant fact, “When I fuck you, Y/N, I don’t want any kind of audience. Just you and me.”

The sultriness had once again creeped into his voice and I unsuccessfully tried to huff in disappointment…it just came out as a quivering breath.

“Sleep now” Azriel whispered, releasing my leg at long last in favour of stroking my hair, “You’re exhausted.”

“Ha” I let out a breathy chuckle, “You think I could even attempt to fall asleep after all that?”

“Try” he smiled, “After all, the sooner tomorrow comes…the sooner you do.”

I breathed in shakily, toes again curling as I felt his words reverberate through my core, the heat there building.

I had never seen Azriel like this. So cocky and confident and seducitve, so…dominating.

“Right. Sleeping now.” I attempted to joke, closing my eyes suddenly.

“Wait” Azriel whispered and I opened my eyes again at the soft command.

He moved forward, so slowly, and gently pressed his lips to mine. A soft, gentle kiss - the one we would have had after our heartfelt declarations had lust not gotten the better of us.

The heat in my core settled, instead sending a rushing wave of euphoria and light and happiness, soothing me until I…indeed did feel sleepy.

“Ass” I grumbled, as my eyelids slid closed again, this time heavier.

“I told you, you were exhausted” he chuckled, pressing another light kiss to my brow before a different kind of darkness - separate from his shadows pulled me under.

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Harleen’s Intern Part 1

“Ok y/n. You can do this. It’s no big deal, you’ve been trained for this. Plus you won’t be alone. Dr. Quinzel promised she’d be there the whole time. Breath.” You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’ve been giving yourself this pep talk all morning. Today was the day. The day you would finally get to work with the clown prince himself. You’d spent weeks preparing yourself, reading and re-reading the Joker’s case files. Last week Dr. Quinzel informed you that you were ready to sit in on a few of his sessions. You were incredibly nervous but also excited to finally be working with a client. You’d woken up early as a result of a sleepless night but you didn’t mind. You used the extra time to actually eat a decent breakfast and take an extra long shower. You had finished putting on your makeup and you were feeling confident. It was time to go and you were ready to take on the world. Or at the very least a very psychotic criminal. You arrived at Arkham earlier than usual. Dr. Quinzel was waiting for you behind her desk when you entered her office. “Hello y/n. You’re early.” She said with a smile. “I know. I’m nervous.” You replied with a nervous grin.  Dr. Quinzel stood up from her desk. “ That’s perfectly normal. To tell you the truth I was nervous my first time too.” She winked at you and headed for the door. You followed behind and felt your heart rate increase with every step you took. “Deep breaths y/n. Don’t let him know your nervous. He feeds on that.” Dr. Quinzel advised. You nodded your head and took a few deep breaths. Before you knew it the only thing that separated you from the clown prince was a door. Dr. Quinzel placed her hand on the door knob. “Are you ready?” She asked. You tried to control your breathing but you were failing.  "As ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.“ You gave a weak smile that Dr. Quinzel returned as she opened the door.

There he was a man with vibrant green hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. He was already seated at the table wearing his straight jacket. There were two chairs positioned across from J where there would usually only be one. J never took his eyes off of you as you crossed the  room. As you sat down J smiled. “Well what do we have here?” You remained silent while Dr. Quinzel answered for you. “This is y/n, she’s going to be joining us for a few sessions.”  J tilted his head to one side. “How exciting.” He replied his smile growing wider. “How about we get started.” Dr. Quinzel said gaining your attention. You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at J this whole time. Well that can’t be good. So much for not attracting unwanted attention to yourself. You quickly refocused your eyes on Dr. Quinzel. Prior to entering the session you had planned on asking your own questions as Dr. Quinzel had encouraged you to do. But somewhere along the way you lost your nerve. Instead you sat quietly as Dr. Quinzel asked J a series of questions. He answered some and ignored others. After ignoring several of her questions, Dr. Quinzel decided to address his silence. “Mister J you seem distracted, What’s running through your mind right now?” She asked leaning back in her chair. J continued to stare at you as he answered. “Well Doctor.” He grinned. “ I was just imaging how it would feel to be between y/n’s legs, hearing her moan my name, begging for more.” Your eyes shot up darting from J to Dr. Quinzel. She tries to quickly put a stop to the situation. “Mister J I-” she’s cut off by J’s maniacal laughter. His eye locked with yours as he spoke again. “Tell me y/n, would you like that?” Dr. Quinzel stood up. “Enough. We’re leaving. Y/n come with me.” She stayed surprisingly calm.  You on the other hand couldn’t be more flustered. What had she said? Don’t let him make you uncomfortable? Yeah about that. Your cheeks were bright red someone on Mars could tell you were uncomfortable. You got up and followed Dr. Quinzel, you heard J let out an angry growl and heard him yell before the door fell shut. “I want an answer doll!”

The walk back to Dr. Quinzel’s office was silent. Well that session definitely didn’t  go as planned. So much for all that confidence. Now you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to face him again. As you entered Dr. Quinzel’s office she gave you an apologetic look. “Y/n I’m so sorry I didn’t think something like that would happen.” You gave her a half smile. “It’s ok. You couldn’t have known.” she walked to her desk and sat down. “Please don’t let this deter you from sitting in on his sessions. Just come back tomorrow and show him it hasn’t affected you. Maybe you should go home early today and relax before tomorrow’s session.” You nodded thankful you were able to return home. “Ok. Yeah thanks I’ll um I’ll do that.” Showing him he had not affected you however, was going to be a challenge. You returned home and changed into some comfy clothes and lounged around a bit. You spread out on your couch lazily as you replayed the events of earlier over and over again in your head. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut into a world of dreams. ‘You were back in that small white room sitting across from J. You were alone with him. Where was Dr. Quinzel? “Answer me doll.” You heard J growl. Your eyes darted back to his figure sitting across from you. His arms free of his straight jacket. This isn’t right. J stood up from chair and circled around the table leering at you. What was his question? “Tsk tsk tsk. It’s a simple question. Yes or no princess?” You didn’t know what you should say. So you simply whispered “yes.” And prayed it was the right answer. J seemed pleased as a smile had formed on his lips. He held out his hand to you and you took it. You stood and walked towards him. J grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. “Say it doll. Say it.” He slid his hands downward gripping your ass tightly trailing light kisses down your neck and biting when he reached your collarbone. What did he want you say. Then it hit you. The question you never answered. You were just about to answer when you heard your phone go off. That’s strange, you shut your phone off when you’re at work’ You woke up still on your couch noticing your phone lit up on the coffee table. You had a message from your mom. ‘Hi sweetie!! I was just checking on you, I know today was your big day! How did it go?’ You had been asleep for a few hours and it took your eyes a few minutes to focus. You texted your mom back with a short and sweet message. 'It went great mom! Loved it!’ There was no need to worry her with what really happened you knew she would freak out. You were still pretty tired and it was late enough that you could justify going to bed early. You climbed into bed and spend the rest of the night in a dreamless stupor.

You returned to Arkham the next day and went straight to Dr. Quinzel’s office. She greeted you with a smile and seemed to be on her way out. “Hi y/n. We’re seeing Mister J a little early today, hopefully that’s not an inconvenience for you.” Your felt your stomach jump at his name and remembered the events from yesterday. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him. “Dr. Quinzel, if you don’t mind i’d like to sit this one out. I’m not sure I’m comfortable going back in there just yet.” Dr. Quinzel gave you a sympathetic smile. “I understand, it’s ok.” She continued walking towards the door but turned around before exiting. “You know y/n, you can’t let him get to you. I understand if you need time but I would like you to continue coming to his sessions in the future.” You nodded a slight smile on your face and she walked out. You sat at Dr. Quinzel’s desk going over some case notes to keep yourself busy. You were surprised to see Dr. Quinzel return not 20 minutes later. You thought that was odd since mister J’s sessions usually lasted an hour. Whatever the reason she was back so soon, it couldn’t be good news. “Well you’re back early.” You said stating the obvious. Dr. Quinzel looked frustrated. “Mister J refused to talk about anything unless you were present.” She answers sounding a bit annoyed. You were stunned. Why would he want you there? “W-why would I need to be there?” You questioned a little hesitantly. Dr. Quinzel answered carefully. “Well, er, you see sweetie sometimes Mister J gets fixated on something. Or someone.” She paused for moment trying to find the right words. “When this happens.” She continued. “He begins to act out in order to get what he wants.”  Dr. Quinzel walked closer to her desk sitting on its edge. “I really hate to ask this of you, but it’s extremely important I get him to talk to me, will you please attend his next session?” You had a million questions running through your head but couldn’t find words to ask them. You nodded your head indicating that you would join Dr. Quinzel at the next session. She reached over and squeezed your arm a wide smile on her face. “Thank you so much y/n, I know this isn’t easy but I believe together we can help him.” She stood up getting ready to leave for another session. She was to the door when you finally found your voice. “Wait.” She turned back around. “Dr. Quinzel, why would he become.” You paused a moment and continued, using her words from earlier. “Fixated on me.” Dr. Quinzel shook her head. “I’m not sure y/n. But we have to do our best to get him unfixed. Otherwise…” She trailed off before speaking again. “Anyways don’t worry I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll catch up with you later to discuss our next session with mister J.” She waved with a smile and shut the door behind her.  What the hell was happening. He was fixated on you. You had read his case notes, you knew it wasn’t unusual for him to become obsessed with things, or people. But you never thought you’d be one of those things. And being one of Mister J’s obsessions absolutely terrified you.

Becca’s Babysitter

Pairing: Dilf!Bucky x Babysitter!Reader

Word Count: 1540

Warnings: Fluff? Implied smut

A/N: PLEASE RE-BLOG; my blog is suddenly wanting me to flop. anyway, it’s okay if u actually don’t want to. if u read my work u mean the world to me <3

Summary: Bucky and his daughter like you a lot.

Bucky felt bad. When he apologetically texted you that he'd be an extra hour at work, he wasn't really sure what your reaction would be. You were already staying until 11, and Bucky was sure that you had other things to do. Fortunately or unfortunately for him, he didn't get a reaction. Had you missed his message? Surely you'd let him know if you were leaving the house before he was home.

Meanwhile, you shifted uncomfortably in your jeans, tired of watching "Bubble Guppies" with Becca. You loved Becs, but, Jesus, could she really drain you. As soon as you got here, you regretted wearing skinny jeans to play with her. Your eyes were practically drooping and you needed to bring Becca upstairs to sleep. For an eight year old, you thought 9:00 was a pretty sweet bedtime, but apparently Becs didn't think so.

She begged, and begged, and begged for you to let her stay up for another 15 minutes. You did. You always gave in. The last 15 minutes before Bubble Guppies consisted of chocolate and vanilla swirled cookies and icing that read "For Daddy!", which Becca could claim as her own handwriting. You made Becca brush her teeth after eating those, and slowly, she grew tired out as well.

"Thanks for taking me to the mall today, Y/N. I had lots, and lots, and LOTS of fun!"

"Anytime, Kiddo." you ruffled up her hair a little bit, making her giggle.

Just then, you remembered that you should probably hide all of the shopping bags away from Bucky. Anytime you got a single thing for Becca, he'd find a way to pay you back. Most of the things you bought for Becs were bought because you wanted to buy them for her.

"Will you stay will me until the monsters go away, Y/N?"

You sighed, rubbing over your temple, and searching for your phone, only to find that it had fallen out on the couch, where iCarly was now playing on the TV.

Bucky brushed his hair back with his fingers, finally closing up his briefcase, and wiping his tired eyes. Staring at a computer screen for 13.5 hours was not fun, but the blue light glasses you recommended did help.

As fast as he could, Bucky shoved himself into his black Mercedes, remembering that Becca wanted a less flashy car, and turned on the seat heater. He flicked through radio stations until he found a podcast that he wouldn't really be listening to.

The ride home was fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, but to Bucky, it felt like hours. There wasn't even traffic this late at night, so what was the need for so many stop lights?

When Bucky opened the door, he fully expected an irritated Y/N to be waiting in the sunroom, but you were no where to be found, and neither was Becca. The TV was left on, on the main floor. Now Danny Phantom was spying his way through some kind of laboratory.

Leading his way to the kitchen, there was no mess, as per usual. He did, however, notice a couple of loose sprinkles by the fridge's water dispenser. Next to it, a Tupperware filled with the cookies you made that he loved so much, and one placed on a napkin on the top, neat cursive printing "For Daddy!" He smiled widely at the writing, knowing that it was your's.

By now, Bucky had supposed you went home. Maybe your phone died, and you hadn't gotten his message. Or maybe you were keeping an eye on Becca from afar, and by afar, he means across the street. Convenient babysitting, huh?

Bucky trudged up the stairs, eating the chocolate and vanilla cookie, getting ready to brush his teeth, when he heard a buzz. It came from the living room on the main floor, a ringtone he'd heard before followed.

"Must've left her phone here." he shrugged, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

Before going to bed, he thought he ought to check on Becca, to make sure that she was sleeping okay.

His eyes first caught on the shopping bags, ones he couldn't help but sigh at. They were tucked neatly behind her door, just small plastic handles creeping out. Bending down, he checked the receipt. $100.

"Jesus." he rolled his eyes.

They stopped halfway in their trail, and his breath hitched when his eyes were stuck on you. Becca's arms tugged on your torso, while she was drooling all over your shirt. You, however, had your lips pursed, slow, gentle breaths falling out of them. Bucky couldn't help but coo at the sight.

Searching through his work pants, he finally stumbled out his phone, snapping a picture. It didn't occur to him that the flash was on, even in the pink, lit room. "Daddy?" Becca grumbled out of her sleep, rubbing her head on your tummy as you shifted around.

"Daddy!"

"Hi, Baby! Shh. We don't wanna wake Y/N. She's very, very tired." he shook his head with a finger over head lips. Shortly after, he spread his arms wide for a bear hug from his daughter. He twirled her in a circle before putting her back in bed.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Baby?"

"Is Y/N staying forever?"

"Well, I don't know about forever, but she can certainly stay the night if she'd like to."

"What about tomorrow? And the night after that? And after that? And that? And that? And—"

"Okay, okay, Becca. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. I like Y/N too, but we're just gonna have to wait and see what happens, okay?"

"Okay..." Becca pouted like a five year old. "We made you a cookie. The rest are our's though."

You stirred in your sleep, taking in a deep breath, and sighing it all out again.

"Becca. Y/N needs an adult bed. Now, did you make her stay here?"

"I didn't do anything! She was making all the monsters go away!"

"Hey, you stopped caring about the monsters ages ago. Now tell Daddy the truth."

"... Fine. I wanted Y/N to stay here."

Bucky meant to discipline his daughter, he really did, but the confession was just too damn cute. He swept you off the bed like you weighed twenty pounds, and carried you like a bride. "Go to bed, Sweets. It's my turn to babysit."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Baby." Bucky waved, closing his daughter's door, so he could carry you into his own bed.

"Such a good girl." he praised both you and his daughter in one statement.

When your head fell onto his chest, he couldn’t help the audible chuckle of adoration that escaped his mouth. He loved the way you treated his daughter. More so, he couldn’t seem to get enough of you.

Laying you gently onto his bed, Bucky brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking his thumb over your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, his lips grazed your cheek, Bucky’s way of saying goodnight, before he went to sleep on the sofa.

It must’ve been an hour before you woke up again, dark walls encompassing you. It smelled like oranges and mint; Bucky. You glanced quickly down the hall to Becca’s room, before sneaking down the hall and staircase.

“Mornin’.” Bucky croaked, having been woken by your steps on the hardwood.

“Bucky—I’m so sorry! I promise, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—”

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Becs is happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Okay.” you sighed, trying to rub your eyes back to sleep. “Thank you so much, Bucky.”

“Stay the night.”

The command caught you off guard, and you found yourself wondering if you were still dreaming. You pinched your arm just to be completely sure.

“You did so much for Rebecca today. I’d love it if you would stay the night. You must be tired.”

“Thank you... but I couldn’t possibly do that to you.”

“Please? I’m asking you to.”

“... Well, alright.” You gave into those sharp blue eyes that always carved holes into your heart, then put it all back together with a hug.

“Amazing. I’ll put on the kettle.”

“Becs really likes you, you know. Tellin’ me she wants you to be her new mommy.”

“I-I didn’t mean to overstep.” your face got heated, rosy blush covering their surface. It make Bucky want to giggle.

“You didn’t. I’d be happy for her to have a mom like you. I mean, her’s left without a second thought.”

“Selfish bitch.” you muttered under your breath, hoping Bucky didn’t hear—he did. “I can’t understand how someone could leave Becca like that. Or you for that matter.”

If it were at all possible, that was the moment Bucky realized his situation. He’d fallen in love with his neighbour, his daughter’s babysitter, and the kind girl across the street who brings over Sunday’s dinners.

Without thinking another thought, he crashed his lips into your’s and you responded almost immediately with your tongue. You scratched at his fluffy, but well-kept, beard with your fingers, and got yourself lost in his lips.

“Becca has to go to school—” Bucky checked his watch. “—in eight hours.”

“P-plenty of time.”

    𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀

summary┃when your a/c craps out on the hottest day of the year, your dad suggests you ask bucky to look at it.

pairing┃dadsbestfriend!bucky x f!reader

word count┃3,330 words

warnings┃significant + undefined age-gap [reader in her mid 20’s & bucky in late 30’s], metal arm kink, innuendos, pet-name [kid, gumdrop, pretty girl, sweetheart, sweetie], dumbification [big girl words], lots of teasing, authority kink, talk of masturbation, size kink, kitchen sex, bucky is too big [makes it fit], bulge kink [bucky is in readers tummy], squirting, unprotected sex, bucky finishes on his own chest, fingering, multiple orgasms, bucky makes reader ride his fingers, talk of subspace [+ aftercare], showering with bucky — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃inspired by me being hot & and a slut <<3

Keep reading

I really hate how people refer to Bucky as The Winter Soldier in fan fiction unless he is currently been brainwashed or its referring to when he was brainwashed. Because Bucky Barnes did not spend the rest of his life fighting to prove that he wasn’t a killer or a bad person. Because Steve Rogers did not spend his life proving that Bucky was a good person and his best friend. JUST for Bucky to still be referred to as The Winter Soldier when he was BRAINWASHED for YEARS and FORCED to kill people while he was being told that he was doing the RIGHT THING.

Similarly it is NOT Falcon and The Winter Soldier, or Captain America and The Winter Soldier. It is White Wolf or Bucky or James or Sargent Barnes. JAMES. BUCKY. BARNES. IS. NOT. THE. WINTER. SOLDIER.

My theory for Steve’s time travel in Endgame

So I’m pretty sure almost everyone that watched Avengers Endgame had a problem with Steve’s time travel back to his life with Peggy and then his appearance as an old man sitting on the bench. 

Here is my theory on how it worked: 

For anyone who has watched the movie Sliding Doors, this will make sense. For anyone who has not, let me try and explain. 

So in the movie Sliding Doors, this woman misses a train and then an alternate timeline gets created where she didn’t miss the train. You then proceed to watch these two timelines play out together and at the end, one timeline “ends” (in a way I won’t explain for spoiler reasons) and the two timelines merge into one. (Hopefully this will all make more sense as I continue)

So when Steve travels back in time (Ignoring the issue that Steve wouldn’t leave Bucky) he created a different timeline where he didn’t get frozen and he stayed and grew old with Peggy. And there were essentially two Steve’s at the same time, just in different timelines. So while one Steve was getting frozen, then found again and then becoming a part of the Avengers in the films we know and love, the other Steve was growing old with Peggy. 

Then when Steve went back in time in Endgame the two realities would merge so Steve would turn up on the bench old. And because of time travel shit in the movies even before Endgame, there would’ve been an alternate timeline where Steve was growing old with Peggy. And because of the super serum Steve would’ve been able to live to the age of over one hundred. 

And similarly, when everyone went back in time to get the Infinity Stones, when they did go back in time they created alternate time lines, BUT when they went forward in time to get back to their present, the alternate timelines got “destroyed” or just ‘sped up’ to merge with their current timeline. 

So Steve still would’ve gone through the movies just the same and Steve wouldn’t have been related to Sharon in the ‘original’ time line, aka the time line we were shown by Marvel (which was a big problem of mine). 

I hope this makes sense and if you’re still confused about the alternate timelines go watch Sliding Doors and hopefully it will make more sense. 

If you have any questions feel free to comment down below or if you find any holes in my theory (but keep in mind it took me 45 minutes with my mums help to come up with this and give me peace, so maybe don’t overthink it)

Detention

Marauders. Wolfstar mainly. 

Warnings: smoking, fighting 

Pure fluff

A/N I have been seriously lacking for ideas for these one shots so please please if you have ideas let me know cause I would love to write them. I'm trying to post some one shots  for many different fandoms such as Marauders, Harry Potter, Marvel, Six of Crows and Merlin so if you have ideas or requests for any one shots with characters in those fandoms I would be happy to write them! And I am happy to write x Reader as well! :)

"I hate you all," Remus grumbled, buried in one of his jumpers, leaning back in his uncomfortable and far too small chair.

"How were we supposed to know Professor Binns was going to be just around the corner!" Sirius defended, just as grouchy as the Lycanthrope.

"Come on guys, don't fight," Peter budged in, still half asleep.

"Yeah, none of us are happy to be here and arguing isn't going to help," James agreed.

The four teenage boys had been dragged out of bed and into an empty, old, small classroom for a Saturday Detention.

"Surely you should be more upset Prongs, you're missing the Quidditch game," Remus pointed out.

James groaned in response. "I know, this sucks,"

Sirius grumbled something to himself and turned away from them all.

"Something to say, Padfoot?" Remus asked condescendingly.

"Shut up, Remus, this was your idea as well it's not all my fault that we're stuck in here!"

"You're the one who didn't check the map when he was supposed to!" Remus stood up, the lack of sleep and the upcoming full moon doing nothing to keep in his temper. "If you had done your job none of us would be in here!"

"If you had used your stupid werewolf senses for any good you could have heard Professor Binns!"

"Alright!" James bellowed louder than the two. "That's enough! You're frightening poor Pete," indeed Peter was in the corner with his hands over his ears. "Now if you can't talk to each other with any compassion then be quiet and talk after you've both calmed down,"

James left no room for negotiation so Remus and Sirius turned away from each other, Remus reading and Sirius quietly muttering to himself.

The hours dragged by and the boys all cursed Professor Binns for making them stay in detention for three hours. At the end Peter was braiding Sirius' hair for practise, James was lying upside-down on his desk and Remus was still reading, curling himself up and ignoring all of them.

————————————

When the third hour struck on the clock all the boys silently got up and walked out. James went to find the Quidditch team and ask them about the game, Sirius couldn't care less and went to the courtyard to smoke, Peter went after James and Remus went back to his dorm, curling up in his bed and reading again.

"James Potter where the hell were you?!" Marlene bellowed, upset with the Seeker.

"Detention," James replied sheepishly, not wanting to make her any madder. "How'd the game go?"

"Barter is not a good fill in Seeker, we lost by a long run," Marlene hit him up the head and kept walking with him, ruffling Peter's hair.

"Why'd you get a detention this time?"

"Got caught in a prank by Professor Binns," Peter sighed, all students knowing how strict Binns was. "Detention was horrible, three hours of Sirius and Remus sending each other harsh glares and arguing,"

Marlene gave him her sympathies, asking where both young lovers were now.

"Sirius is probably somewhere smoking, Remus is probably reading in the dorm or library,"

"Probably the dorm," James added. "He thinks the library is too crowded on weekends,"

———————————

Sirius stepped on his finished cigarette, extinguishing the sparks. He sighed, running his hands over his face, feeling bad for the argument with Remus.

Remus heard the door open but didn't bother to look up to see who it is, assuming it was Peter.

He felt his bed sink down and started to turn his head. Before he saw who was on his bed, he felt two arms wrapping around him and soft kisses being pressed into his shoulder blades. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Sirius in turn.

"'M sorry, know the full moons making you antsy, should've been nicer," Sirius mumbled into his chest, pulling himself as close to Sirius as possible.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have snapped," Remus kissed Sirius' head.

They silently lazed there in each others arms, Sirius pressing kisses to Remus' chest and Remus kissing Sirius' head.

"What book are you reading?" Sirius asked quietly.

So Remus started off about his new book, talking about the characters and plot with deep thought and analysation. Sirius listened to every word, paying extra attention so he could discuss the book with him on another day closer to the full moon to distract him from the pain.

Remus slowly fell asleep, words about his new book turning into quiet mumbles.

Sirius smiled softly at his sleeping form, brushing his hair away from his face - which needed a cut - and kissing his cheek, laying there in his sleeping arms.

And when Peter and James walked in to check on Remus, they both knew to silently walk out and leave the two to their lazy afternoon, wrapped in each other.

Imagine having this....forever. 💛

...... take me in your arms pls