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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

Text

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 4 - Package Deal

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kids/domestic, fingering, anal sex, knotting, multiple orgasms, Voicing, claiming bites, D/s elements, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression, postpartum, body insecurity, breastfeeding, mpreg, pet names

Word Count: ~7000 (I'm sorry, okay?!😫)

Summary: Steve and Bucky make love for the first time since the birth of their son.

(Or: a prime example of how even my sincere attempts at g-rated domestic kid fics devolve into 6000+ words of smut 🤦🏻‍♀️)

[“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.”]

(Wait! I haven't read part 1, 2, 3 yet!)

Steve appears in the doorway to their bedroom after putting the girls to bed. “ ‘And the children were nestled all snug in their beds’ ,” he recites, making Bucky chuckle softly.

“ 'blah blah, something about a long winter’s nap' .” (Which doesn’t sound bad at all to him right about now.) “That took a while," he says, stifling a yawn against the top of Gabe’s head. “They didn’t get their hands on any sugarplums at that party, did they?”

Steve shakes his head. “Naw. Crackers and juice.”

“Juice has sugar.”

“They’re fine. Reading got ‘em down.”

“We still on Stuart Little?”

“Becs begged for an extra chapter,” Steve confirms, smiling from where he’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes full of affection as he watches Bucky feeding their son. “Did you have a nice time tonight, babe?”

Bucky winces first and lies second, so of course his ever-perceptive husband raises an eyebrow and waits him out for the truth. Bucky recounts the encounter with Karen and the other moms. “They wear me out,” he says, letting his eyes slip closed and his head dig back into the pillow that he’s got propped against the headboard. “Even when I promise myself I’m just gonna eat the food and not engage, somehow they draw me in. They have that knack.”

“Eh. They’re just a bunch’a cotton-headed ninny muggins.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah well I’m not too far off from ‘em.” He feels Gabe slowing down and trails his fingers through the boy’s wispy hair. “Here I thought it was last week instead of this week. Seven full calendar days off track.”

“Babe, it happens.”

“Hm. No it doesn’t. But you’re sweet for saying so.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Neurologist said I’ve got too much white matter, now.”

“Yeah, and he also said it isn’t getting any worse. Lots’a people have brain injuries and manage to live perfectly fine lives.”

Bucky doesn’t miss how Steve substitutes the word ‘fine’ for ‘normal’, and his lips twist wryly. “I know. It’s just, all this time I’ve been blaming it on pregnancy brain, but that'd be wearing off by now.” He groans with his eyes still closed. “Swiss cheese for brains, Stevie, I swear.”

Steve makes a sad tut of disapproval from the doorway. Bucky stubbornly doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear the soft sounds of Steve padding across the room, then the bed dipping by his side as he slides in next to him. “You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he encourages.

Despite how much Bucky disagrees with that assessment, he can still hear all the love and warmth in Steve’s voice, can tell that his husband sincerely means it when he leans in and kisses his ear, lips and breath lingering at the craggy, mutilated top. It’s one of the ways that Steve has always silently said ‘I love you’ to Bucky when he knows the omega is in a bad mood, and it somehow manages to worm its way past his churlishness each and every time. “Thanks, Babe,” he mutters.

Steve wiggles in to sit beside him, hip to hip, mindful of Bucky and the baby and not upsetting Gabe’s feeding time. “... Did something else happen today? You seem, I dunno, burdened.”

“I am. I mean I’m just fucking tired, but yeah.”

His hand appears on top of Bucky's thigh. “Tell me?”

Bucky sighs. “Just my emotions goin’ haywire. Hormones. I went jogging and cried in the park.”

“Baby,”

Steve never likes to hear that Bucky’s unhappy, which is the main reason why Bucky avoids mentioning it. He’s got a therapist for that shit, after all. “Eh, it was brief. I got over it. But then I realized the play was tonight and I had to scramble to get the girls' costumes together; and right before that, I had to do battle with this snotty little beta at the pharmacy just to try and get my prescription filled, so that didn’t help.”

“What?”

Bucky ruefully recounts the incident with his birth control medication and the new FDA regulations, and Steve starts to rumble angrily in his chest before the story is halfway through. Bucky opens his eyes to see his Alpha looking all indignant on his behalf. His lips quirk. “Easy there, Big guy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve growls. “I didn’t know there was any kind of legislation like that being considered.”

Steve’s unhappy scent is making Gabe start to pull away, and Bucky rubs the infant’s back. “Calm down. You’re making him squirm.” Steve grumbles but tries to obey, and Bucky relaxes when he feels Gabe go searching for another latch. “I dunno Steve. Things are changing, and I see the signs and it just scares the crap outta me.”

“What do you mean, ‘changing’?”

“Just ... the little things," he mumbles, knowing that there's a chapter in his book called that, and that Steve probably remembers it, too. Bucky shrugs, avoiding Steve's concerned stare. "A couple of years ago, people weren’t talking so much about church. Now everybody’s back to talking about gender roles all the time.”

“People are allowed to have religion, Buck.”

“It’s not just that. It’s people’s attitudes changing, their whole approach. It scares me. People didn’t used to always be talking about what was ‘decent’ or what was ‘allowed’ on this platform or that. Purity culture, moral absolutism; those things were on the decline, ya know? People didn’t criticize working mothers as much. Omegas didn’t wear their collars in public like it's some sort of fashion statement. 'Tradwives' weren’t trending on TikTok. … Abortion was protected.”

“It’s still protected,” Steve argues.

“Here it is,” Bucky says peevishly, because they both know about each and every issue that’s been kicked back to the states in recent years. “It’s how fast everybody forgets. Now those bumper stickers are coming back in vogue again, Jesus fish lapel pins. Hell, it’s even normal to launch a friendly chat with a chipper little ‘where do you fellowship?’ They’re banning books all the time—”

“In schools, not public libraries,” Steve interrupts, then hurriedly adds, “I’m not defending it, Buck. I’m just saying there’s a difference.”

“There’s a difference until there’s not a difference,” he snaps. Then, after a beat of fraught silence between them, he whispers, “Please tell me it’s not happening again, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve shifts beside him, putting an arm behind his back to pull him closer against his side. He kisses the top of his head. “No, Buck. We’ve got intelligence agencies to fight against that, now. That’s what Shield is for. It’s what I do. You’ve gotta know I’d never let you or the girls—the kids,” he hurriedly amends, not yet used to “the girls” no longer being an apt descriptor of their children, “get drawn into a situation like that again. I’d never let it happen, baby, never. You know we have an exit plan if things get bad.”

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly at the mere thought of it. “Yeah,” he whispers against Gabe’s head. He knows that Steve only put that plan together to help assuage Bucky’s lingering fears, his anxiety that never quite goes away completely. “Yeah. We can get out. We have a plan.” He’s whispering it to himself, vaguely recognizes the beginning feelings of a spiral, how his pulse is faster than it should be, audible in his ears, with dread pooling low in his gut like spoiled food.

He whimpers and pushes his nose against Gabe’s hair to soothe himself, inhaling the new baby smell that he still has. “We have a private jet,” he whispers, reminding himself, trying not to let his thoughts flash back to the memory of the retreating rear window of his mom’s car at a border crossing, his sisters’ faces pressed against the glass as they leave him behind in a country where he's not safe anymore …

“Untrackable Quinjet, fly to Canada,” he murmurs, trying to focus on five things that he can see, smell, feel, taste and hear … about Gabe, his son, his—

“Baby,” Steve is mourning by his side. He grips Bucky’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze, which pulls Bucky’s vision back into focus from the panic attack he’d been about to fall into. Steve seems unaware of it. He’s still just cuddling him and talking platitudes in a low voice. “That’s not happening, okay? Things are fine, I promise you.”

Bucky nods, even though he can’t help but to worry, “Then why are people giving up their rights again?” he asks. “You know they’re expanding the Fertility Care Act.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take anyone’s rights away.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“I know. I know babe. ‘Incentiv—”

“Incentivization is the first step to coercion!” Bucky finishes for him. “Yes. They’re prioritizing citizens who can have kids over ones who can't. How is that fair?!”

Steve lowers his head. “It’s not.”

“And passing all these restrictive laws? Requiring my Alpha to cosign on my birth control? How can they do that?”

Steve sighs. “We’re still a democracy,” he says sadly. “People still have the right to vote for the policies they want, even if they’re not the same things that you and I want. We’re a self-determining society, babe. If they get enough support for it, enough votes … People still get to make these decisions.”

Bucky grunts. “Well they're making the wrong ones.”

Steve hums in agreement, giving him another squeeze. “Hey now, don’t think about that stuff. Relax with me tonight, that’s what I want.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re gonna turn the milk sour, you keep worrying like that,” he teases. “C’mere, grumpy.” He dips in and nuzzles against Bucky’s face to try and get a small smile out of him. It kind of works, and Steve hums happily when he feels him soften. “How’s Little man?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s temple and looking down at their son.

“Pretty sure he’s eating in his sleep,” Bucky murmurs. “And I’m about to be too.”

“Mm. But you’re not eating.”

“You know what I mean, dummy.”

Steve leans in and noses at his neck, scenting him affectionately. “You smell so good, momma. Smell like home, like mate.” Bucky makes a grumbling sound of complaint at the “momma” and Steve snickers and kisses him in apology. He cups his hand behind Bucky’s flesh one, intimately joining him in cradling their infant son’s head against Bucky’s chest. “Lookit that,” he purrs, and it’s not all innocence to his tone, as he stares at where Gabe is suckling. “I love to see you like this,” he murmurs. “Seeing you feeding him, giving him what he needs. Using that part of yourself for this.”

Bucky groans and lets his eyes fall closed again in mortification. “Steeve.” He feels Steve’s thumb start swiping back and forth on the back of his hand that's cupping Gabe's head.

“Shh. It’s true, momma.” Steve starts peppering kisses against the top of his shoulder as he watches Gabe nursing and Bucky blushing. He speaks softly between the kisses, murmuring intimate words of love against Bucky’s skin: “Love it. Love you. You don’t know what it does to me, to see you with him like this. Watching you takin’ care of him. Knowing that your gorgeous body can do this, can nourish him. The baby you made for me, my son.” His voice is rumbling again by the time he finishes, possessive, and he laces their fingers together and ducks in close to start mouthing at Bucky’s bonding glands—something which he knows turns Bucky on to no end, goddamn him.

Bucky groans and whines. “Are you serious right now?” Steve’s laugh puffs out against his skin, warm and affectionate, and Bucky drops his head to try and hide the smile he can’t keep off his own face. “Damn you, Rogers.”

“Language, momma Rogers,” Steve purrs, which only serves to make the heat in Bucky’s face worse. “Let me put him down,” he murmurs, kissing Bucky’s neck one last time before moving forward to take Gabe. Bucky hands him over with a tired hum, letting his eyes slip closed again while Steve is gone.

He’s surprised when he drifts off to sleep and the next thing he’s aware of is Steve crawling back into the bed with him. “Mmhh, I fell asleep.”

“I can see that.”

“He go down okay?”

“Yep.” Steve pulls him into his arms and lies down with him, kissing his forehead. “You make me so happy, Buck,” he whispers. He trails kisses down his face until he reaches his lips, then presses gentle pecks there until he’s able to coax his way inside for more. He makes out with him lazily, humming in pleasure as Bucky softens and starts to respond to it. He lets one hand roam his body, trailing up and down the omega’s side, then squeezing his waist. “You tired?” he whispers.

Bucky smirks with his eyes closed. “M’ always tired.”

Steve hums in agreement and kisses him some more. “He slept through the night last night.”

“Yeah. Don’t jinx it. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”

“Want to fool around?” Steve murmurs, already kissing along his jaw towards his neck again. His big hands roam Bucky’s body, caressing his waist and circling behind to grab at his ass. “I miss you.”

Bucky sighs in pleasure, nodding. “I’m fucking tired,” he murmurs—very pointedly not a ‘no’—then shivers when Steve rolls over to cover him with his body, pressing one firm, thick thigh up between his legs. Bucky groans tiredly. “Ohh, Honey.”

“I’ll do all the work,” Steve promises, whispering the words against his neck in a conspiratorial way that makes Bucky chuckle. Steve kisses his bonding gland again. “Mmm, promise. You can just lie here and feel good.”

“Or fall asleep,” Bucky mutters, though as Steve presses his thigh down and rolls his hips, the odds of that happening significantly diminish. Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed and digs his skull back into the pillow, shivering full-body as he feels his dick waking up. “Mm, Stevie. Yeah. Make me feel good?”

“Course,” Steve whispers, before sealing his mouth over the sensitive tissue of Bucky’s bond scar. He hums in pleasure as he sucks hard, coaxing the gland underneath to swell and grow closer to the skin with arousal. He fits his teeth to the shape of it, biting in a quick, sharp nip that makes Bucky gasp.

“Oh! Steve …”

“You remember what the doctor said,” he teases, scraping his teeth over the spit-wet skin. “Hm? ‘Bout the ways Alpha can help you feel good?”

“Ohh, mm hm.” Bucky’s O.B. and his therapist have told them that stimulation of the glands can help relieve some of the effects of postpartum depression—including regular sex and penetrating bites from a bondmate. They've tried the latter but not the former, but Steve has been more than keen on the idea of helping his omega in both ways.

“What do you say, baby?” he asks, licking and kissing all over his bond scar. “Hm? It's all healed up from last time. Can I?”

Bucky whimpers, weak from the rush of arousal that always comes at hearing Steve ask for this. “Nnn,” he whines uselessly, rolling his body up against the alpha’s bulk. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Nnn, don’t.”

“Aw, why not?” he coos lazily, still mouthing at that spot. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” He moves up to whisper in Bucky’s ear: “I know how hard it makes you cum when I time it just right.”

Bucky moans pitifully. He tries to remember what his reason for protesting it is, but it’s hard. “It’s almost—oh! mmm—s’almost Thanksgiving. W-we, um … T-tony’s parties, n’ the Turkey Trot …”

Steve lets his teeth drag over the glands again. “Fuck the Turkey Trot. So what? I love seeing you fresh with my mark. And this way everyone else will too. They’ll see it and they’ll know you’re mine. Know I was probably fucking you while I did it, claimin’ you all over again.” His voice is rough and gravelly by the end, full of heat and possession. “You got any idea how much I like that?”

“Hnhh,” Bucky breathes, unable to argue against that reasoning. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Steve purrs, eliciting another pathetic whine from his mate. Bucky can practically feel Steve’s satisfied grin as he continues to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, mouth never leaving his bonding glands for long. “Smell so fuckin’ good, mama,” he groans, and this time rather than protest the endearment, Bucky keens at the way Steve says it: like Bucky being the mother of his children is the sexiest, most wonderful thing imaginable. Steve keeps kissing a path down his neck and shoulder, over his collarbone and chest, stopping when he reaches the level of his pecs and sealing his mouth to a nipple—the same place where their baby was nursing not even ten minutes ago.

Bucky shivers in sensitivity and blushes like a madman, his hands flying up to tangle in Steve’s hair. “Nnh, Steve, wait, oh …”

Steve groans and rubs his cheek against his chest, the drag of his facial hair and his hot breath making Bucky’s nipples harden into tight nubs. He brings a hand up to cup one swollen pec and mouths openly at the other, groaning as he stares greedily. “Fuck, baby, look at you.”

“Steve,” Bucky pants. “Nnn,”

“Mm mn, no. Hush. Just let me play with ‘em.”

Bucky continues to whine about it, but a hardening dick and a leaking asshole don’t lie, and Steve knows him too well to let him get away with such shallow evasion at this point in their marriage.

He settles in for the long feast, humming and grunting in pleasure between kisses and sucks to Bucky’s chest, alternating sides and squeezing whatever he isn’t mouthing over at the moment. “God, baby,” he says between one kiss and the next. “Wish you’d stay like this. Love your body like this. So soft, just for me.”

“Fuck, Steve.”

“Mmhm. Could keep you like this forever. All needy and sensitive.” He traps Bucky’s nipple between his lips and sucks, hard, and Bucky feels that tingly sensation and knows what’s going to happen a second before it does. His hands fly to Steve’s head and he cries out, but there’s no time for him to warn his husband before his body lets out a tiny spurt of breastmilk. Steve only pauses for a second, his mouth still on him, and then he groans loudly against Bucky’s chest. He sucks again, huffing in enjoyment, then lifts up and meets Bucky’s gaze with lust-blown eyes. “Oh honey,” he whispers, sounding devastated. “I almost forgot how sweet you are.”

Bucky’s brain is kind of short circuiting at the sheen on Steve’s lips, wet from his very own breast milk. “Shit,” he exhales shakily. “Alpha.”

Steve growls and drops back down to suck on him some more. Bucky can only lie there and take it, his head tossing on the pillow and hands gripping Steve’s hair as the alpha makes a playground of his chest. Bucky whines and complains, but truth be told there’s something small and squirmy inside of him that secretly loves it when his husband indulges in his body this way. It makes him feel wanted and beautiful, reminds him that Steve loves every part of him, even when Bucky himself doesn’t. “Leave—aah—leave some for the baby,” he eventually manages to say, laughing between pleasured groans and gasps.

Steve pulls off and comes up to kiss him, tongue swiping past Bucky’s lips and leaving the taste of himself behind. Bucky’s breathing shakily by the time they part, and Steve’s eyes flit over his face. “You okay?” he asks, so sincere in his care for Bucky that it makes Bucky want to give him everything.

“Yes Alpha,” he whispers, reaching up with his flesh hand and cupping Steve’s jaw with it. “I just love you stupid-much, is all.”

“Stupid much?”

“Mm, yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

Steve surges down to kiss him thoroughly once more “See?” he teases, knocking their foreheads together. “All that moping didn’t curdle the milk after all.” Bucky huffs and swats at him, and Steve grins and rolls away. “Hang on one sec.” He gets up to undress, and by the time he’s crawling back into bed naked, Bucky’s kicked off his pajama pants as well. Steve slides right back into the cradle of his hips. Between their bellies, his cock is hard, but he makes no move to address it, focused on his mate instead. “What do you want tonight?” he asks gently, tracing Bucky's face on one side and then the other. “Hm? We can do anything you want. Whatever makes you feel good.”

Bucky softens, in love. That’s how it’s been these past four months: Steve being careful, trying so hard to respect any boundaries, to let Bucky take the lead as they find their way back to intimacy as husbands. Problem is, most days Bucky doesn’t know what he wants. He swallows thickly and rasps out a quiet, “I just wanna feel you.”

Steve hums. He tucks the recently-shortened strands of Bucky’s hair aside, eyes flicking from one ruined ear to the other, amazing Bucky with how his gaze never waivers with any hint of distaste at the mutilated flesh. It’s just love he sees in him. “I think that can be arranged.”

He kisses him, long and languid and indulgent, the kind of kiss that takes its time and never really escalates, more intimate than it has any right to be. By the time he’s kissing down Bucky’s body to put his mouth on his prick, Bucky’s a leaking, mewling mess.

“Ssteve,” he slurs as he watches his husband’s blond head of hair dip down between his legs and feels his mouth engulf him in sudden, overwhelming warmth. “Oh God.” Bucky’s eyes slip shut and he digs his skull back into the pillow, exhaling through clenched teeth at how good it feels. Steve hums from around his mouthful and Bucky hurriedly grasps at his hair. “Nnn, don’t,” he hisses, trying to calm down even as his hips are shoving up at Steve’s face. “Don’t hum like that, Jesus Christ.”

Steve laughs and pulls off to look up at him. He kisses Bucky’s cockhead and winks. “Sorry. I was just enjoying myself.” Keeping eye contact, he suckles and laves over just the head of Bucky’s dick, then uses his hold at the base to tap it against the flat of his tongue several times.

“Fuck.” Bucky pants and screws his eyes shut. “It’s been too long. I can’t hold it.”

“Who says you need to hold it?” Steve kisses his hipbone. “Cum as many times as you want to, Sweetheart. As many times as you need.”

Bucky groans. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.” He goes back to Bucky’s cock, pushing hard at one of his thighs to force him to widen his legs even further. “There we go, good boy. Keep ‘em spread.”

Bucky peeks down at Steve and sees him staring at … everything.

Oh. … Oh.

He swallows nervously. It’s been over four months now, and he’s had the go-ahead from the doctor since all the way back at his six-week checkup, but Bucky’s still been self-conscious. They've resumed some recreational activities, but Steve still hasn’t asked to have sex yet. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s waiting for him to initiate. “H-how’s it looking down there?” he asks, trying to insert levity into his tone and failing pretty spectacularly. “Everything … everything good?”

“Mmm.” Steve caresses his balls, pushing them up and out of the way, feasibly so that he can stare at his perineum and further back to his weeping, clenching hole. “It’s winking at me,” he says, making Bucky’s face go red hot.

“You know what I mean,” he huffs, knocking his heel against Steve’s back halfheartedly. “How’s it … how’s it look?”

Steve hums and pretends to consider it very seriously, moving in even closer. “Looks perfect,” he says, a touch more arousal in his voice this time. And he’s so close now that Bucky can feel the heat of his breath against his skin. Steve’s finger touches just behind his balls and glides all the way back along his taint, up and down, tracing the line of where Bucky knows the stitches were. “All healed up,” he murmurs, sounding pleased. “Pretty and pink.”

Bucky snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry Steve, I’ve read all the reality check articles.”

“The what?”

“Stuff on the internet for new mothers. On how wrecked you are after giving birth. They say it’s especially rough on male O’s, and I’ve popped two of these things out, so.” He grimaces. “I think they have like, lasers or something that they can use to try and fix it, or at least make it look nicer.”

“What?” Steve sounds shocked. “Babe. What are you talking about?”

Bucky huffs, not wanting Steve’s false platitudes. “I’m just trying to be realistic, okay?” He squirms impatiently and refuses to look down at the alpha between his legs. “So? Does it look like … ya know, very messed up?”

Steve’s tensing shoulders and his low growl are the only warnings Bucky gets before his husband’s mouth is sealing itself straight over his taint and sucking ferociously, the accompanying rumble of his growl only intensifying the feeling.

Bucky yelps. “Holy fuck!” His body jolts in place, trying to bow off the bed, but Steve holds him still with strong arms wrapped around his thighs. “Sh-hit,” he gasps, “Steve!”

“You want to know what it looks like?” Steve growls, pulling back with a filthy-wet sound and a voice that’s furious and rough-edged and determined. “It looks like the cunt of the omega who gave me my children. Looks like the cunt I wanna spend the rest of my life fucking, stuffing full of my cock, my cum, my knot … my tongue.” He surges back in, taking turns between tongue-fucking his hole and sucking on his rim as brutally as he can, making loud grunts and groans in the process that are very clearly meant to drive a point home. “Mmph, mmm, hhmph!”

Bucky gasps and keens, overwrought by Steve’s words just as much as he is by the feeling of his mouth. He doesn’t even consciously think about it as he grabs his cock and starts jerking off, Steve groaning loudly against his ass when he realizes what Bucky’s doing. It only takes another minute of that before he’s coming, riding Steve’s face as his cock pulses in his hand and wets up his belly in spurts of clear omega cum.

“Oh God, oh, ohh …” His breath hitches in broken moans as he rides the orgasm out. Then the pleasure wanes and he slowly comes back down to earth, panting and dazed, blinking up at nothing but the blank plaster of their bedroom ceiling …

Until Steve reappears in his field of vision, having climbed back up to lie over him once again. Bucky welcomes the press of his alpha’s heavy body on top of him, accepts the slick-tinged flavor of Steve’s tongue when he slots their mouths together and shoves inside, demanding and harsh. “That was number one,” he says, when he’s pulled back and is looking down at Bucky with a satisfied expression. “How many more you gonna give me tonight?”

Internally, Bucky curses. He curses, dies a little bit, and falls deeper in love all at the same time. Meanwhile, externally, he regains his breath and meets Steve’s hungry stare. “I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna wear me out more than the baby,” he says, aiming for a wry drawl but only achieving something that sounds breathless and wrecked instead. He sees Steve’s eyes darken the way they do whenever he’s issued a challenge, and knows he’s in for a hell of a night. “What’re you thinking?” he whispers.

“I’m thinking: I want to see that again, and again,” Steve rasps, voice gone to gravel. “Thinking I want to watch you lose control like that all the goddamn time. For the rest of my life.”

Bucky flushes. “Steve …”

“I’m thinking: that I want to make you feel good in every possible way there is to feel good.” His lips ghost over Bucky’s as he murmurs, “So that you know. Because you clearly don’t—”

“Steve …”

“And so that you never feel like you need to ask me a question about what you ‘look like’ ever again. Not on any part of your beautiful body.”

Bucky groans and tries to turn his face away, But Steve catches him and guides him back with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Uh uh, Sweetheart. You listen to me. I want to make love to you. Until you can’t take it anymore, until you go soft and weak and cryin’ with it.” His hands start wandering over the peaks and valleys of Bucky’s body, caressing his skin. One hand moulds itself to the side of his neck, fingers playing over the texture of his bondmark, while the other glides down, pausing to stop and tweak a nipple, squeeze his waist, grab the fleshy curve of a hip. Very purposefully, he slides his hand to settle into place over his lower belly, hushing him when he feels him start to tense up. “Shh sh sh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Steve, I’m … it’s —”

“Shhh.” He nudges their noses together, chiding and affectionate all at once, because he knows which parts of his body Bucky is most self-conscious of. But he doesn’t move his hand from the territory it’s claimed. “I know,” he whispers. “I know how you feel. But that’s all wrong, baby. And I want to show you.” He kisses him again, only this time it’s tender, almost achingly so. He relents and pulls back. “That’s all, Honey. I just want to make you feel new things, good things. I want to show you. I need to show you.”

“Show me what?” Bucky whispers, but then Steve stares down at him in that dark and private way that he deeply, intimately recognizes, and he regrets having asked. Bucky trembles and closes his eyes. “Steve, please. You don’t have to …”

“Look at me,” Steve murmurs. He rests their foreheads together. “I just want you to understand, baby. That when I touch you here,"—his fingers curl possessively into the too-soft flesh of Bucky’s stomach—“I feel something so profound, so far beyond just love or arousal … that I don’t even know what to say to you. You understand? It hurts. I don’t have words for it.” He looks at him imploringly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful than you are to me right now.”

Bucky’s heart beats faster at the intimate confession. He tries to suck his stomach in, tries to tense his abdominals and make himself firm, but Steve tuts at him and pinches the side of his neck, right over his swollen glands. Bucky gasps, eyes shooting back up from where he’d been starting to look down between their bodies at Steve’s hand on him. “I wasn’t.”

“Look at me,” Steve says, and this time it’s in his Voice, the sound of it sending an instant shot of arousal down Bucky’s spine and into his core. His eyes must show it, too, because Steve smiles and purrs deep in his chest. “Yeah,” he encourages, still in the Voice that he so rarely uses with Bucky. “That’s right. Look up here at Alpha. Do as you’re told.”

Bucky licks his lips, aware that his cock is rapidly hardening again. “Steve,” he breathes shakily. “I —”

“Pull your knees up,” he murmurs, and Bucky obeys without a second thought. “Good boy.”

A chirp erupts from Bucky’s throat, unbidden, and he colors in surprise at the sound. “Alpha,” he says, because it’s the only word he can think to say.

Steve smiles and strokes over his bond mark with the roughened pad of a thumb. “Does it feel nice? Want more?”

Bucky nods, blinking, the effects of Steve’s Voice still singing in his veins like a drug. “Yeah.”

They hardly ever engage in Voiceplay. It’s something Bucky enjoys with his husband, but he’s had bad experiences with other alphas in the past; times when men who weren't Steve assaulted him with what should only ever be used as a tool of lovemaking. Steve knows this, and so he usually avoids Voicing with Bucky unless he knows that the circumstances are just right.

The circumstances are just right.

Bucky whimpers and reaches down impulsively to cover Steve’s hand where it rests on his belly, but not to pull it away. “Alpha,” he chirps again, fingers curling over Steve’s larger ones.

“This okay?” Steve checks, his eyes scanning his face for even a hint of discomfort.

But he finds none, and Bucky nods his head in fast approval. “Yeah, yes.”

It’s still achingly vulnerable, having Steve touching this soft, imperfect part of him; but it’s intimate, too, and Bucky wants more of that. He wants Steve to make love to him this way, an Alpha with his omega—capital A, lowercase o.

“S’been so long,” he breathes, his voice hitching as his emotions finally catch up with him. Ridiculously, he starts to feel tearful. He’s missed having this with his mate so much. “So long, Stevie.”

“Baby,” Steve coos. “Don’t cry.”

Bucky sniffles shyly and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, feeling stupid. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles.

Steve’s fingers massage his bond mark and he kisses his temple soothingly. The hand that was on his stomach snakes around, dipping underneath his lower back and tugging them even closer together. “You gonna let me?” he asks. “Gonna let Alpha make you cum again and again?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Gonna let me give you another bite, make it a good one? Mark you up again for everybody to see?”

Bucky whines and nods, drawing his knees up, wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips and tilting his pelvis to make himself available to his mate. “Please,” he begs. “Please, yes, Steve. I want it, please.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest and slots their mouths together in a brief, aggressive kiss, then pulls back swiftly and manhandles him onto his belly, pulling him up by the hips into presenting. Bucky cries out in surprise but goes willingly, widening his knees on the bed and pushing his ass back into Steve’s groping hands. “Good boy,” Steve praises, Voice dipping down into that register that’s low and rumbly and lets Bucky know that his Alpha is very pleased with him.

Bucky grunts and wiggles happily until Steve’s hand appears at the back of his neck and pushes down: a wordless, forceful ‘Stay’ that makes him shiver and whine with impatience. “Nnnh.”

The hand flattens at his nape and slowly drags down the length of his spine, appreciative and greedy. “Aw, Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, hips rocking forward. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect, y’hear me?” He curses quietly as he digs his fingers into the fat of Bucky’s hips, watches his cock dragging through the wet valley of his ass. “Jesus wept, Honey. Lookit you. Wet dream come to fucking life, I swear.”

Steve only curses this much when he’s incredibly turned on, and the knowledge that it’s his doing has Bucky slicking up even worse than before. He whines and scrubs his face against the bedding as he feels his hole pulse and leak, the slick tickling as it trails down his taint and balls. “Steve,” he pleads, relieved when Steve grabs his hips and continues to take control.

“Shh, s’okay, you’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Gonna take it slow.” His fingers appear at his backside, slipping through all the slick, wetting them up in him. He starts to press in with one finger. “Real slow,” he murmurs. He fucks him on just that one finger, for far longer than he would normally do, taking his time in Bucky’s body, in relearning this touch with him. Bucky makes a miserable noise against the bedsheets and Steve hums, pleased. “Yeah? How’s that feel, Sweetheart?”

Bucky whines and nods, his cheek dragging on the sheets. He feels Steve curling over him, his chest pressing up against his back and then the finger sliding deeper. Bucky moans as it grazes over his prostate. “Oh, God.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s breath hits right at his ear. He plants his left forearm alongside Bucky’s, holding himself up as he fingers him. Right next to Bucky’s face, their pinky fingers hook together, flesh over metal. Steve kisses the shell of his ear and whispers, “Bucky, honey. You’re so swollen inside, I can feel it.” He strokes his finger, curling gently over that spot that makes Bucky’s vision go blotchy. “I want you to cum like this first,” he whispers. “On my hand a couple’a times. Right on Alpha’s fingers. Okay?”

Bucky sobs and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Steve, please.” He can feel the orgasm coalescing already, the pleasure of Steve’s finger pulling him closer on every pass. “Please, please.”

“Shhh. Remember: slow,” he reminds him, and Bucky’s guts twist up in further delicious arousal and frustration. Steve doesn’t try to edge him, though. He lets him have it, working him up to it steadily, not rushing, kissing his neck again and again as he fucks him on one finger and then two.

That added fullness is what makes Bucky unravel, his body pulsing as he gasps and suddenly falls into his second orgasm.

Steve talks him through it, never stopping the whispered encouragements against his ear: “There we go. That’s it, baby, that’s it. So good.”

Bucky collapses to his stomach, and Steve follows him down, gently nudging his knees inside of Bucky’s to make a space for himself. Bucky complies, boneless from his climax. “Stevie,” he slurs.

“Right here, baby.” He presses up all along his back, covering him with warmth. “I’m right here.” His hands slide up Bucky’s arms and cover his hands at either side of his head. Bucky moans quietly as Steve laces their fingers together and gives a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.” He rolls his hips, cock slotting into place. “You’re so wet.”

“Y-yeah.”

Steve rocks leisurely against him and Bucky hums at how slick it is, enjoying the intimacy of rubbing together full-body. He lets his eyes slip closed as he soaks it all in: Steve’s heavy weight, his scent, the scratch of his beard and the heat of his breath in the crook of Bucky’s neck. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” Steve drags his lips over the sensitive skin of his bondmark. “Can I fuck you, baby?” he asks softly. “You want that, hm? Want Alpha inside of you?”

Bucky is glad that Steve can’t see his face, because his eyes are wet from pleasured, overly-emotional tears, and this way he doesn’t have to bother being embarrassed over what a sap this pregnancy has turned him into. He nods and scrubs his cheek against the bedcovers. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, Steve. Please.”

Steve hums and kisses him once more, before he reaches down and lines his cock up, dragging the head wetly across his rim a few times with increasing pressure, until it catches. Bucky tenses, because it’s been so long since they’ve done this, and because the last event of real significance that involved his asshole had been childbirth, but Steve soothes him with a sucking kiss to his bondmark. “Relax,” he murmurs, pushing in at the same time and making Bucky gasp softly. “Shh, there you go. See?”

“Ohh.” Bucky’s eyelids flutter as he’s slowly filled. “Steve.”

“Uh huh.” Steve’s hips kiss his ass as he sinks home all the way. “Juust like that,” he purrs, grinding against him and staying deep inside. “S’it feel nice?”

“Uh huh,” Bucky breathes, lips parted and eyes closed, brow furrowed at how full he is. “Yeah, Stevie … oh …”

Steve chuckles and kisses his shoulder. “You feel amazing,” he whispers, before he experiments with moving a little more. He keeps pulsing his hips, rocking languidly, gradually building up to a slow pace.

He fucks him gently then, not pulling back to get on his knees or gain any kind of leverage. Instead he stays close, deep; plastered to his back and dragging his cock against his sensitive insides over and over so perfectly. When it pulls a tortured moan from Bucky's throat, Steve encourages him with soft, sucking kisses against his glands. “S’okay.”

“God, Steve.”

“Uh huh. Juust like that. I remember how you like it. Alpha's got you, baby.” Steve sounds like he’s getting close, too, voice laboured as he grunts against Bucky’s neck. “You gonna, ugh, gonna cum again, mamma?”

Bucky whines and nods. “This time,” he begs. “Please, please. Do it.”

The two of them share a bond, and that’s probably the main reason why Steve’s able to tell what he means.

He doesn’t disappoint, either, fucking him smoothly right into another orgasm and timing it perfectly. As soon as Bucky’s body goes rigid and his breath stutters in his throat, Steve’s biting down hard over his bondmark, breaking the skin and piercing the swollen glands beneath. Bucky sobs and comes harder and longer than he has in a long time, crying from how impossibly good it feels.

It’s compounded by the sudden groan that Steve lets out and the rapid inflation of his knot, as the bite sets him off as well: “Nngh!”

While Steve is stuck inside him and lost to his own pleasure, Bucky’s able to rock himself to one more, toe-curlingly delicious orgasm before he finally lets himself go boneless on the bed, fully sated. He knows when Steve is done coming, because the alpha becomes more attentive again, his hands running over Bucky like he’s checking him for injuries sustained. If Bucky hadn’t just come four times, he might've been able to spare a chuckle over it. “Hey,” he says instead. “M’fine, babe.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds pleased. He gives his hips a lazy roll against Bucky’s ass and nuzzles his freshly-bitten bondmark, groaning at the pheromones that hit him. He licks a big, fat swipe over it with his tongue, groaning and making Bucky hiss. “Mmm," he murmurs. "You’re bleeding."

“Duh.”

Steve growls. “Be nice to your Alpha,” he Voices, and Bucky shivers pleasantly. Steve notices the reaction and gloats. “Hmm. Maybe we should start biting more often.”

“How often?” Bucky’s halfway through a yawn as he says it, and he feels Steve shrug against his back.

“Once a month?”

He chokes. “Steve!”

“What?” Steve’s snickering. “I like a well-scarred bondmark. S’romantic.”

“It’s fucking primeval is what it is, you caveman.” Bucky scolds, rolling his eyes. He clenches down purposefully hard on Steve’s knot, smiling at the surprised—Hngnn!—he gets for it. “We already do it on our anniversary every year.”

“And sometimes on Valentine’s,” Steve supplies.

“Exactly. Any more than that and people’ll think we have a fetish.”

“Well, maybe we do,” he purrs, kissing the bite. “And it is what the medical professionals are recommending, after all.”

“Ha, yeah.”

“... You’re really okay though?” Steve checks. “None of that bothered you? The Voicing, or the—”

“Shh. No. I loved it.” Bucky lets his eyes fall closed. He can still feel his pulse thrumming beneath his skin, bringing the delicious ache and throb of his glands to the forefront. “Every part of it,” he sighs.

Steve laces their fingers together. “Good. ‘Cause I take doctor's orders very seriously, you know.” He rumbles deep in his chest and gives a dirty grind against their tie. “We gotta keep you healthy, Buck. Gotta make sure you’re properly … stimulated.”

“You suck so bad,” Bucky groans. “Your permission to know my medical information is rescinded.”

“Aw, don’t be that way. I can dick you down again in like, an hour, if you want? Probably. Two hours, tops.”

Bucky yawns, humming as he pretends to consider it. “Tempting offer, but how ‘bout you cuddle me ‘till I pass out, instead?” he says, because he really does think the other night was a fluke, and that he’s destined to be awakened by a baby monitor within the next few hours. Steve wraps his strong arms around him and pulls them to lie on their sides. They spoon like that and enjoy the closeness while they wait for Steve’s knot to go down. Bucky gets goosebumps when Steve starts caressing lazily up and down his side. “Mm, that’s nice.”

“Mmhm.” Steve slots his fingers into the trigger points for the prosthetic. “Let��s take this off,” he whispers, kissing the shell of his ear.

It’s Bucky’s fucked up ear—a place where he’s usually squirmy and uncomfortable about Steve touching, let alone kissing, but right now it doesn’t bother him at all. Too many endorphins surging through his system, he supposes.

“Okay,” he agrees, since he doesn’t really love sleeping with the arm on anyway (he’s got this paranoia that one day he’ll sleep-punch Steve in the middle of a nightmare or something), and then lies there and listens to the sounds that the arm makes as it’s triggered to disengage from his body. He can’t actually feel anything other than some vague, mechanical movements deep in the arm’s very internal workings. It doesn’t hurt. And then it comes off, a sudden release of weight and tension that Bucky hadn’t even realized was there. He moans quietly at the feeling. “Nnh. Thanks Stevie.”

“You’re welcome.” Steve sets the arm out of the way and resumes his gentle stroking and caressing along Bucky's side, venturing up higher to where the anchor site for the arm begins, implanted permanently into his body.

Bucky can sense his husband looking down at it, can feel the pads of his fingers exploring thoughtfully over the texture of scars and metal edging. He sighs, feeling wistful. “Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like, if we’d met before?”

Behind him, Steve stills. He’s quiet for a long moment, and just when Bucky thinks he’s not going to answer at all, his caressing starts back up again and he hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sometimes, in a general way," he admits. "But then ... it wouldn't be the you I fell in love with, would it? We wouldn’t be us.” He worms his other arm under his waist and hugs them closer together. “Maybe we’d have less nightmares between the two of us, less therapy,"

Bucky snorts.

"But I wouldn’t choose anything but this. Nothing would be the same if we hadn't met the way we did, y'know? You probably would’ve stayed in college, focused on your career, maybe put off kids too long. I wouldn't have joined Shield, Peggy wouldn't have moved away.” He kisses the ruined edge of Bucky’s ear again, so tender and slow that Bucky knows he’s doing it intentionally. “Just think: Becca wouldn’t exist. And we wouldn’t have Sarah or Gabe, 'cause you and I never would’ve met.”

“We might’ve.”

“Mm, doubtful.”

Bucky grumbles, displeased at that hypothetical, and Steve hugs him and coos in agreement, “Shh. I know, I know. That would be awful. I’m just saying: you can’t trade the good for the bad. It’s a package deal. And you know what? I’m happy with my package.” He seals his mouth to the fresh bite wound and gives a powerful suck, popping off with a wet sound and a pleased growl. “Very very happy with my package.”

Bucky’s too gooey and in love and fucked out to get the delivery just right, but he at least manages to wiggle his butt against their tie and mutter out a tired but saucy little, “Mmm, yeah. I like your package, too.”

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@nekoannie-chan I saw you queue fics so I thought I'd apply 😊

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queenshelby · 2 years

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Under His Eye - Masterlist

Parts - 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8; 9

#thomas shelby #the handmaid's tale #thomas shelby au #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #handmaid #The Handmaiden #tommy shelby au #peaky blinder #peaky blinders au #Peaky Blinders #cillian murphy

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bloomeng · 4 months

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i’m neutral on omegaverse but just an observation…

omegaverse has such potential to be true gender fuckery and ppl explain it as such but then you get into it and it’s like: omegas: the one with reproductive organs who’s more feminine vs alphas: the more masculine one

and don’t even get me started on how “omega’s are second class citizens/ sex slaves” plots end up playing out

smh i’ve seen straight smut more subversive

#txt #does this count as vent?#whatever #this isn’t to say all omegaverse conent has this issue #it just irks me that a large portion of it does #like yes yes ik it’s just supposed to be smut #but lord i can’t but consider the built in misogyny to the au #and like it feels like it should be an handmaids tale thing where it would be commentary #but the amount of times i’ve seen ppl double down #read a fic once about omega discrimination that literally ended with the omega in a relationship with his alpha #and he just accepted that he would always be a second class citizen

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mortemshipping · 1 year

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Paper Planes Aesthetics : Edward Elric Hohenheim

#paper planes au #fma #fucked nerds edits #edward elric #conqueror of shamballa #fmab mixed with the handmaids tale

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jaegerisim · 25 days

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The Handmaid's tale au where Eren invaded Hizuru and massacred 80% of the population and now they're repopulating humanity and so he takes Hizuru's flower Mikasa as his Handmaid...

#🗝🧣. rambles #eremika #eren jaeger #eren yeager #🗝🧣. handmaid's tale au

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ao3-hp-fanfic-reader · 1 year

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All HP fanfic on AO3 ranked by kudos #3

Manacled by Senlinyu

Ok. So. This is a heavy one. Not just for content, but for literally everything. First off I’ll just get into a basic summary of the plot. So in this au Voldemort won the war with Harry Potter and kills him. The remainder of the order are either killed, or if they’re women, they are turned into slaves purposed to help repopulate the wizarding world. Hermione is sent to Draco malfoy to be raped until she is pregnant because she has some memories and that are locked in her mind that a magical pregnancy might unlock. Word count is 370,515. Main ship is dramione. Trigger warnings: rape, assault, gore, major character death, PTSD, panic attacks, assault, torture.

Oof so after reading that I’m sure you’re wondering, but how can they make Draco and Hermione end up together if he repeatedly assaults her? Well dear readers, that is what I like to call a fucked up relationship. I would’ve enjoyed this fic a whole lot more if I knew it wasn’t going to end with dramione as endgame. I understand why the author wanted that to happen, she put the readers and the characters through so much I suppose she felt like they deserve a happy ending. However, considering the circumstances of the fic, I do not think it should’ve happened that way.

One thing I really really enjoyed about this fic was the writing structure. The first 25 chapters follow Hermione through her surrogacy enslavement with Malfoy after the war is over. After that are 75 chapters of flashbacks to Hermione during the war written in chronological order. After learning all this crucial information we are brought back to present day and the post-war life with Hermione as a Surrogate slave, but knowledgeable about the past. Holy shit it was so cool. While I was reading the flashbacks I kept remembering the situation present Hermione was in and getting to excited for what it all meant when it tied back together. Really well done.

Obviously what I didn’t like was the relationship. I’ll be honest, I do not enjoy hetero ship fics so I’m probably very biased in writing this so take it all with a grain of salt. There is a bit of smut both consensual and non consensual but nothing too graphic. It’s pretty light for a rape fic. The relationship was very deep and confusing with the war and trauma. Because of this, I feel like it would’ve been a better ending if dramione didn’t work out and they parted ways rather than staying together. It’s a bit stokholmy and I don’t think it’s a healthy relationship.

The characterization makes a lot of sense. For the most part. I do feel like Draco is out of character in places, mostly when he does things in aid of other people not himself, I feel like his loyalties and allegiance is very confusing and not explained enough why it is the way it is. Hermione is very different from the books but it is completely justified by the context of the fic. The author kept a consistent character base and developed her well from there.

I’m a bit annoyed at the end because there was a moment where i felt like the author didn’t really know how to save all her characters because of the intricate rules of her universe, so she just wrote the answer into existence. It felt really cheap to me. The answer to all their problems literally appeared in one chapter and oh my god they never thought of it before because it was a secret that no one knew about. I didn’t like it that much.

So this fic succeeded in confusing me. I think the author is very talented and has a beautiful sturucture to her story. However I morally disagree with the relationship how it is presented in the fic. If the relationship had panned out differently maybe I would’ve liked it more, but it didn’t. I would say read it if you’re super into dramione because it’s a staple in the dramione subculture. (Literally people print it out in hardback copies). If you’re triggered by rape obviously dont read it. It’s a long process but a very cool au, so read it for the discussion topic, but otherwise maybe skip this one.

#manacled #dramione #senlinyu #hp fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #au #postwar au #Harry Potter #dark fic #the handmaid's tale

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dumb-dumb-again · 1 year

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kinda... kinda sinister Serena

#tht #serena joy #im going into the au trenches agaiiin #the handmaids tale #june x serena #this serena looked at june and was like ye i wanna kids with you and that's not a question

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what-is-canon · 2 years

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(somewhere in an AU far away where the three live together, @emotionalsupportwarcriminal I’m basing this off Your Heart is a Shaken Fist, thank you for writing the mother of all June/Serena fics)

Moira: Something tells me Serena’s going to be a bit more unhinged today…

Serena, holding a lit match and a bag of oranges: Leave me be, June isn’t home to stop me, I’m going feral.

#incorrect tht quotes #incorrect handmaid’s tale #june x serena #june osborne #serena joy #moira strand #source: perchance generator #you can expect a lot more quotes based in this AU #there’s just too much good material to go on

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addisonmilfgomery · 1 year

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Proof of life, pls?

Hey there!! ik i have been totally mia for a while but I'm doing good. I've just been busy (all good things) and I kinda only lurk around online before bed 😭 mainly I'm just waiting for succession n ted lasso to come back and then yall r gonna see me lose my mind on here again lmao

#i dont wanna be all emo but life has been GOOD lately and the past year was all worth the struggle of finally getting to this point #like i genuinely felt so hopeless and now I'm living on my own and I'm doing so many things i enjoy n i met the most amazing ppl #and i am just grateful asf JDJDJ like it DOES get better #anyways #i promise i will update hmwhm very soon #and post the other 6 wips in my drafts #yall want a s11 mer goes to LA au?#carol 2015 au?#the handmaid's tale au?#neighbors au?#random s3 affair au?#lawyer au?#i have them all in my drafts begging me to edit them but my concentration span is SO weak #ask

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romana-after-dark · 7 months

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Blessed Be The Fruit

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

Series masterlist

Summary: A few decades into Gilead’s conception, you head into your first posting as a handmaid after an affair with a guardian landed you in trouble. Determined to keep your head low in order to keep your son safe, you take on the moniker of OfJoel. Commander Miller has very little to do with you and mrs. Miller regards you with disgust, however you find solace in an unlikely friendship with Commander Miller’s daughter from a handmaid 14 years ago, Ellie who just got done with wives school. You and your friend, Ofthomas start teacher her and her friend Reilly under her mothers nose. Slowly, Commander Miller begins spending time with you and you begin to learn more about the man he was before and an affair begins outside the confines of the ceremony. Although initially you go along with it out if survival, you find yourself falling for the version of Joel you saw in these late night rendezvous.

Which Joel is really him, and how will he react when his own daughters secrets are revealed?

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON!

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically. At one point, she has to pose as Ellie's mother and I know this can be loaded in terms of skin tone. I am no genetics expert but I know dark skinned parents can have white passing children, like Lional Richie and Nicole Richie. It's up to you to see if this is going to take you out of the story or not.

Support writers, reblog and leave comments!

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Aunt Lydia said your first posting would be a difficult one, but that she took pride is matching up Handmaids to the right households and said she thinks it will be a solid posting. A peaceful household is the best conditions to conceive a child in, after all. Stress isn’t good for the baby, dear.

She gave you all the details, everything you needed to know. You would known as Ofjoel for the time of your posting; three years unless you conceive, God willing. Commander Miller was known as a fair man and a good father to the child he had, a 14 year old named Elizabeth who had only recently returned from wives school. Gildead had been eagerly awaiting news of her being betrothed, but Commander Miller was very particular. Nothing but the best for his daughter. Elizabeth was the product of a handmaid that had been posted with him 15 years ago at the advent of Gilead; one of the first 3 successful children of the new state. Their family had a bit of celebrity in that sense. Joel had declined handmaids for years ever since, saying he had his child and it was only fair that others got a chance. A good man, dear, always thinking of his countrymen.

Mrs. Miller, she warned, can be a bit particular. But that shouldn’t be a problem for a well behaved girl like you, dear. You were well behaved, that was true. After you were taken away from your life with your husband, your son was taken and given to an unknown high ranking family. All you wanted to do was be passive and quiet and behave so no harm came to your son.

“Ah, welcome. Blessed be the fruit.” A beautiful woman in blue with dark hair braided back greeted you at the porch. Behind her was a young girl, Elizabeth you assumed, who looked less than thrilled to be there and behind her was a Martha. In front of Mrs. Miller, however, you see him. He was tall, handsome, a strong alkaline nose and medium brown curls slicked back in an attempt to tame them.

Aunt Lydia spoke for you. You weren’t to speak unless spoken too. “Thank you, may the lord open! Mrs. Miller, Commander Miller. Oh, Elizabeth! Look how you’ve grown!” Lydia greeted the teenager who refused to put on a smile.

“Elizabeth, be polite.” Her mother chided, but it wasn’t until Commander Miller whispered a small ‘Ellie’ that the girl put on a small and curtsied.

Mrs. Miller invited aunt Lydia in for tea, but she declined, saying goodbye to you and telling you to be good before you were ushered inside. As Mrs. Miller introduced the household, you felt Commander Miller’s intense stare on you, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Our daughter, Elizabeth, is to be betrothed soon, God willing.”

Elizabeth groaned. “Great.”

“Your attitude is exactly why we can’t find you a match, young lady.” Mrs. Miller snapped, turning to her daughter with a glare. “That and the fact you keep sneaking second helpings-”

At that, Commander Miller walked over to where his wife was berating the girl. “She hasn’t found a match because I haven't found anyone suitable for her. She’s a shining star of Gilead, Gina, and I’m not going to send her off to just anyone.”

You watched as Mrs. Miller glared at him before her eyes fluttered over to you, and suddenly you felt like the outside you were.

Commander Miller kissed the crown of Elizabeth’s hair, gently nudging her off. “Go to your room, I’ll walk you to Reilly’s after I’m done here, alright?” Women couldn’t walk alone, God forbid. It was for your safety, right?

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but agreed and left the room, the commander looking back to his wife. “You have to stop berating her like that, she’s a good kid.”

Mrs. Miller walked a step closer. “She’s a brat, she’ll never have a successful marriage if she can’t submit to her-”

“Woman, I told you to drop it!” Commander Miller’s voice raised up just a little, enough to tell his wife to leave it alone.

With a huff, Mrs. Miller left the room mumbling that he can deal with the help, and how this is why they were getting a new handmaid and baby in the first place.

As she walked away, Commander Miller scrubbed his face and sighed, eventually looking over towards you and seeming startled by your presence. He sighed again. The way he looked at you… he didn’t look past you like everyone else seemed to do, he didn’t look at you like furniture. “Ellie’s going through a phase right now. Gilead has seemed to forget that teenagers are still teenagers, no matter the birthing crisis.”

You want to ask him whose fault that was. You want to remind him that he was one of the sons of Jacob who created this entire system… but you weren’t looking to die today.

“She’s a good kid, smart.” He pressed on, like he was looking for a response. Smart was an odd choice of words. Women weren’t meant to be smart, they were meant to be pretty, fertile, godly, kind, demure.

You down cast your eyes. “Of course, sir.”

Commander Miller urged you along showing you all the parts of the house. The bottom floor held the kitchen where you would be helping the Martha, Lisa, the dining room, parlor, all the miscellaneous living areas and way in the back was Commander Miller’s office. Upstairs was a second bathroom, the master suite, Elizabeth’s room (or Ellie, as he called her), and Lisa’s room and then yours towards the end. He excused himself there.

“Make yourself as comfortable as possible.” He urged. It was strange, the way he acted was not how you had expected. For such a prominent commander whose daughter was almost like royalty, you expect a harsher man; someone to match his wife’s strict standards. However, it seemed he was… almost normal, whatever that meant. “I’m going to walk my daughter to her friend’s house, but I’ll be back if you have any questions. Lisa would probably appreciate some help with dinner for once.”

“Yes commander”

You were in elementary school when Gilead was formed. Your parents were christian and church goers so you were allowed to grow up with them in the lower class regions and were married off to another man of lower stock, and it was years before you became pregnant with your son. Problem was that this son looked nothing like his father, and a paternity test revealed your secret, landing you in the position you were at now.

The day dragged on. Between you and Lisa, there wasn’t much to do to keep the household clean for the three other people that lived there, even with Mrs. Miller’s strict standards. Tomorrow you would meet your walking partner, and hopefully have activities to fill more of your day until your first ceremony.

That night, you woke up to use the bathroom, but when you walked out you were met face to face with Commander Miller. He was even taller like this, even dressed down out of his boots. White tee shirt and dark pants were under his long road and his previously slicked back hair was unfurled into soft, messy curls. His face was still sweaty; he smelled like sex. You hadn’t really thought if Commander’s still fucked their wives… but you suppossed there was no reason not to. Gina was beautiful, after all, and so was Commander Miller.

He towered over you, breaths almost shared in the close confines of the hallway. “Sorry.” He murmured in a whisper and moved, heading downstairs to his office or a midnight snack. A little shaken at being so close to a man, a man of such rank and power… that very power emanated off him in wafts of manly musk. You ran into Elizabeth as you exited the bathroom and she looked as startled to see you as you did Commander Miller.

“Excuse me.” She said as she slipped past and you re-entered your room, only to peek out as she was tiptoeing down the stairs and turning towards Commander Miller’s office. It was strange to see, but you supposed fathers were fathers, no matter the horrors they created for other women. Did he realize he was setting his own daughter up for this life? Especially a girl as headstrong as she seemed to be?

The sun was bright, the early fall only requiring your long sleeve dress as you stood outside but behind the gate of your new home, Mrs. Miller standing beside you to make the introduction. Your walking partner was your next door neighbors handmaid.

“Ofthomas is my brother-in-law’s handmaiden. I assume you’ll meet their family this week, we usually keep weekly dinner’s at each other’s homes every Friday, we host this week. Tommy- Commander Miller, I mean, is certainly… interesting. Very kind, but don’t like me catch him being kind to you alone.” Mrs. Miller shot you a warning eye and you understood. Despite having wives and handmaids to fuck, men were never satisfied.

“Ofthomas, there you are. You’re late.”

Ofthomas curtsied. “Apologies, Ma’am”

“Hm. This is Ofjoel, our new handmaiden.”

You bow your head and Ofthomas bows back, and Mrs. Miller opened the gate, allowing you to begin your walk to the store. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You could never tell who an eye was, and certainly couldn’t tell who a true believer was. Did Ofthomas believe everything she had been taught? It was never safe to say anything, never safe to question or complain to a single person lest they turn you-

“So what’s your real name?” Ofthomas asked.

You jolt, turning to her in shock. “Excuse me?!” Wide-eyes, you wonder if this is a trap, she had to be trapping you, right?

Ofthomas smiled at you, it was friendly but teasing as if she knew you’d react like this. Her dark hair peaked out of her wimple, as uncontrollable as she was, it seemed. “My name’s Angela.”

*****************

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dins-riduur-anthe @morallyinept @fan-fiction-floozy @med494 @taliarose12 @flvrdoll @k-ra @sam-2me @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @kyloispunk

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fanfic-collection · 2 years

Text

Imagine Loki as some powerful individual where those who are in power are given something of a harem for their satisfaction.

Mostly, those who join the harem don't have a choice on who they serve but it's a pretty luxurious life either way. For some reason, or maybe just luck, you end up with Loki who is usually reclusive and doesn't partake much. He's impressed by your strong spirit and wit and accepts you.

Now in service, the other members of society who serve these powerful people help make you properly prepared to service Loki and despite their efforts to grind you down into something manageable, you continue to surprise him and please him as you are.

#so i had a dream and it was fuckin wild #imagine loki #inappropriate #kinda a handmaid's tale au #but less rapey

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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

Under his Eye (Part Eight)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Words: 2,345

Warning: Angst, Violence, Smut

Please comment and engage!

At around seven o’clock that night, you arrived back at a rather empty Arrow House.

You knew that Tommy had given some time off to Frances and the Shelby’s other maid was travelling with his wife Grace.

It was pleasant to be alone with him and, just like two teenagers in love, you kissed each other passionately as soon as you walked through the front door.

“I wish it could always be like this for us Love” Tommy said and you couldn’t help but giggle when he nibbled on the tender spot beneath your ear.

“Me too…now come…” you told him before immediately pulling him upstairs towards his bedroom.

“One day, it will be just you and me and the only person we have to worry about walking in on us is your daughter” Tommy told you lovingly before tearing off your clothes like a wild animal and you felt as though, at that point, you really needed to correct him.

“Thomas, it won’t be just us. I am…” you began to say but he interrupted you.

"I know” he said, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He pulled you towards him, and you happily let him wrap his arms around you.

“I know that you are pregnant Y/N and I am sorry. I will get you out of here and then you can do what needs to be done. I am not forcing you to carry this child” he promised you and you took your head from his chest and looked into his eyes.

“I am not leaving until my mission here has been completed. Despite, this baby inside of me was made with love and has every right to live” you told him firmly.

“You can’t have her here. You know what will happen to her. She will be Grace’s child and you will be assigned to another house three months after the birth” Tommy told you while caressing your face.

“Her?” you wondered, totally ignoring what else Tommy had just said to you.

“Pol is certain that you are having a girl. And, she is never wrong” Tommy told you and, with that, you leaned up towards his mouth.

He obliged, pressing his lips to your and opening his mouth so your tongues could mingle. Whatever needed to be planned and discussed could wait until tomorrow. For now, you both did what felt right. You needed to capture your love for each other in this fragile moment.

"I will keep you safe. I promise” Tommy told you, when he pulled his mouth back so you could catch your breath. "I love you” he then whispered and you smiled.

"I love you too Tommy” you said and then kissed him again. His hands were so warm on your bare shoulders, your back and your neck.

"You are going to be so fucking beautiful with my child growing inside of you” Tommy whispered into your mouth before he turned, still holding you, pivoting you until his large bed was directly behind you.

He didn't have to nudge you in that direction though. Instead, you took his hands in to yours and led him back towards the bed until you felt the backs of your thighs against the soft fabric of the blanket, and sat down at the edge.

He stood there in front of you, and you took the opportunity to run your hands down the front of his clothing. As your palms passed over his pants, you felt the evidence of his growing excitement.

“Hmm, Mr Shelby” you teased as you let your fingers wander along the top of his pants, until they settled on the buckle of his belt. With a few deft movements you had it open, and you gently tugged his pants until they started sliding down.

You were fixated on your task of unleashing him, and your reward was the sight of his cock swinging free as you finally pulled his clothes down to his thighs.

“Y/N, fuck” Tommy groaned as you laid a reverent hand on it, feeling it twitch in your hand as it came alive under your touch.

He was staring down at you, and you looked up to hold his gaze as you slowly stroked his hardening shaft. You could feel his erection finish growing in your palm.

"How could I ever resist you?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

"You can’t. I am irresistible” you teased while gently fondling his length in your hands.

“You sure are. But, it’s my turn to do what I want to you before I willingly surrender myself to you” Tommy told you before gently moving away your hand from his now very hard shaft.

“As you wish” you smiled while you leaned back on the bed, staring up at him. He took a gentle hold of your garment and pulled it upwards, and you lifted your arms up as he lifted it over your head and dropped it behind him.

You were now wearing nothing but your thin panties and pulled yourself backwards until your head was against the pillows.

Tommy followed eagerly, crawling on the bed until he was over you.

For a moment, his lips found yours and then he shifted down, alighting on your cheek, your jaw and your neck. He stayed there for a moment, kissing and licking, eliciting a quiet noise of desperation from you.

Then he was moving down again, lips on your collarbone, then lower. Tommy’s lips traced a line down the center of your chest, then strayed outwards, kissing along the swell of one breast until his lips were over your nipple.

“Oh god Tommy” you moaned in delight as he kissed and gently sucked, pulling the nipple against his lips. You arched your back reflexively, pushing your chest against his face. He slid a hand under your back, holding you up as he kissed and sucked.

Tommy then moved to the other breast before his palm replaced his mouth, sliding up the underside of your breast until he cupped your breast in his hand. He gently squeezed the flesh there, kneading it as his mouth continued its journey south. He gently rolled your nipple between finger and thumb, and you hummed appreciatively.

The path of his lips continued down along your stomach, until his lips were pressed against your waist. you wished for a moment that you could have bought underwear that was just a bit more... exciting. But his hands slid down to follow the path his mouth had blazed, and he slid the panties off without sparing them a moment's thought, tossing them over a shoulder.

Now you were bared before him again, and he stopped completely for a moment as he drank in the sight.

"Do you like what you see?" you asked. It was a rhetorical question, since the bulging of his eyes was all the answer you could need.

"You're gorgeous Love" Tommy whispered, and you couldn't help but giggle. The look in his eyes, the tone in his voice... it sounded like reverence.

The words he spoke made for a good answer, but then he gave another answer that was even better. With no more words and no hesitation, he all but lunged forward, his mouth suddenly covering your pussy.

"Oh, god yes" you said in relief. His warm mouth was a welcome reprieve from the cool air, and you felt the heat of his breath spread up into you and all the way up your spine.

“Tommy” you kept on moaning when he reached out with his tongue and traced along your sensitive lip. Warm, wet heat radiated up into you as his tongue probed along your folds, and between them. He traced a line up, briefly flicking across the sensitive nerve bundle at the top, then back down. He followed that same path again, from your wet slit up to your clit, then back down.

Then he was pressing forward with his tongue, sliding it into you, and you felt your hips push up against his face automatically. He delved with his tongue, lapping up your taste, and you moaned quietly in pleasure.

"Oh, Tommy…fuck” you whispered for a third time as he slid his tongue up again until it passed over the aching nub at the apex of your folds. He swished it back and forth a few times, making your body twitch slightly at the jolts of delightful sensation.

"Just like that" you told him and he complied, flicking his tongue back and forth across your clit.

He kept at that motion, passing the tip of his tongue back and forth. Currents of electric stimulation surged up your core with each motion, and you felt heat radiating out from your spine and down until the delicate folds of your pussy were alight with tingling heat. You wanted more, more, more.

"I want you inside of me Tommy, please…" you whispered to him, but Tommy's attention was fully fixed on his task.

You writhed under the attention, your body moving of its own accord. It was so good, but you wanted to feel him inside of you. You grabbed onto his shirt and pulled, dragging him up forcefully until, suddenly, the door to the bedroom opened and you shot up and covered yourself with the sheets.

A glare of fear and anxiety rose straight through you as you looked at Tommy’s wife who was stunned and somewhat confused.

“Get up!” she eventually yelled at you, her voice full of rage and, just as Tommy had fully clothed himself quickly, Grace reached for his gun.

“Calm down Grace! Put down the fucking gun, eh” he yelled, seeing that she pointed the gun straight at you and cocked it.

“You are sleeping with my husband...MY HUSBAND!” Grace yelled in anger as she approached you while holding the gun into your face and, just as Tommy held onto Grace’s arm, she leashed out at you and hit you so hard that you hit your head on the bedside table.

“Enough Grace! Drop the gun!” Tommy yelled again, holding her back and taking away some of the force she was aiming towards you.

“Give me one reason not to shoot this whore Thomas. Sleeping with a commander carries the death sentence. She will be hanged by next week anyway after I report her” Grace spat, wrestling with Tommy and trying to free herself from his embrace.

“You will not go to the authorities with this Grace” Tommy ordered her with anger before taking the gun out of her hand and, just as he did, she tried to attack you again.

“And why wouldn’t I Tommy?” Grace spat while you scooted backwards, covering your naked body with whatever you could find.

“Because she is pregnant!” Tommy told her reluctantly, knowing very well that he was lacking any other option and, as soon as he said it, she calmed down and spoke a prayer.

“Thank you Lord, my prayers have finally been heard” she said, somewhat relieved while sitting down on the bed besides you and placing her hand on to your stomach.

The sudden change in demur caused Tommy to cock an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but break out in anger.

“Don’t fucking touch me” you said, still holding your bleeding head while trying to push her away from you.

“I have every right to touch you Y/N. You are my property, carrying my child. Your body belongs to me” Grace said and you were absolutely speechless. You wanted to argue with her, telling her that this was your child, a child which you made with her husband. You made with love and she had no right to it. But you also knew that you had to be careful.

“Of course, Mrs Shelby. I am sorry” you said, swallowing your pride and it was at this point that Tommy sighed with relief. You did the right thing, submitting to his wife and, even though he hated the fact that you had to do it, he knew that this was your only chance of survival now. You had been found out and this was dangerous.

“Now, for the next nine months, you will be confined to your room. If I find out that you are seeing my husband again behind my back, I will have you removed from my house and you will be placed into a birthing facility and chained to your fucking bed there until you are ready to give birth. Then you will be shipped to the whore house which, clearly is where you belong” Grace Shelby then told you and, whilst your heart sank with fear and disappointment, you nodded in agreement nonetheless.

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