#arne is going to get hit by all the branches as they walk

[ronkoza]

more stupid boys

Tor belongs to @littleulvar

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Push

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, mentions of violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your daddy’s in business with the Sheriff but a dirty cop has not limits.

Note: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic. Obviously it’s a dark on so mind the warnings. Lee is just awful. Like what a bastard, the worst!

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

‘She said "I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in”’

-Push, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

You traced the small crack along the lip of the plate. The dinner set your mother had been so proud of was wearing away. Everything had started to since her death. The farmhouse seemed darker, more desolate amid the sentinel pines, your father's shed more sinister though the childhood tales of what was within had long since been dispelled. The walls shuddered with each gust of late autumn air.

The house was empty but for you. Your brothers were at about their usual business, Arn and Cal at work at yard and Will in his classes, though more likely bumming cigarettes behind the church. Your father had rumbled off in his old Ford pick-up not an hour ago but hadn't given you a reason. He never did and it was better that way. Better you didn't ask questions or speak out of turn. Focus on yourself, in the work that needed to be done as the men bustled in and out of your purview.

You set the plate on the mat to dry, a soapy bubble dripped down the back as you plunged your hand back into the water. You piled the dishes one after the other, scrubbing and scouring. The clink of the thick glass painted with faded petals and the old silverware was thunderous in the chilly kitchen.

You heard an engine, quieter than your father's cantankerous truck. The gravel mulched under the tires and you grabbed a rag to dry your hands as you walked through the front door. You peeked out the window as the cruiser pulled up; the old black and white with its blue and red crown.

Sheriff Bodecker came around maybe once every two weeks. You didn't keep track, you never spoke to him. Your daddy always took him to the shed for a beer and a chat. The uniform took a cut of the profits from your father's sill. The moonshine sold better than the beer sold at the store in town but wasn't allowed on the shelves. the lawman turned his eye for a percentage and the occasional jug of the brew.

You watched the sheriff brace himself against his door and lift himself out of the car. His jacket was zipped up against the impending winter but could barely contain his stomach. He reached into his car and plopped his hat on his head before he slammed the door. His boots were just as loud as his tires as he rounded the vehicle and paced towards your daddy's shed.

He turned back, hands on his hips, and peered across the empty lot. The big blue truck always greeted visitors, not that there were many. You watched the sheriff retreat and as he neared the porch, you let go of the curtain and pressed yourself to the door.

Your brothers and your father were the only people in your life. You minded the house and spent your spare time with one of your mama's old books or a needle and thread. 

The door shook as he knocked. You blinked and slowly turned. You grabbed the handle but didn't pull. He must have known your daddy wasn't there. A fool could guess that.

He banged again and you twisted the knob. Slowly, you pulled the door open just a crack. You looked through with one eye as the sheriff felt around impatiently in his pockets.

"Daddy ain't here," you said quietly.

He tilted his head and grinned. He scoffed and ripped his hand out of his jacket.

"I guessed that. Be a shit officer if I couldn't," he snickered. "Pardon the language, miss."

"I don't know when he'll be back," you said.

"I got time," he checked his watch.

There was a moment of silence as he looked at you. You gulped, uncertain.

"Sorry, we don't get many visitors. Guess I should invite you in… I got coffee? Tea?"

He considered you through the inch between the frame and the door. "You gonna have to open up for that," he said, "you got anything sweet?"

"Some leftover cake from Arn's birthday. It's probably stale." You answered as he placed his hand flat on the door. "It's strawberry cream."

"Mm, you make it yourself?" He asked as his other hand rested on his belt.

"Mama's recipe," you explained.

"Well,” he pushed on the door, "Can I come in then or am I eatin' on the porch?"

You stared at him and slowly stepped back as he put more weight against the door. He dropped his arm as you were flush to the wall and he stepped inside. You looked at his boots as he pulled the door from your grasp and threw it shut behind him. He chuckled as he turned to you again and looked at his feet.

“Not meaning to mess up your floors, miss,” he wiped the treads on the mat.

“It’s fine. My brothers never did care much either,” you waved away his words and retreated, “I’ll get you that cake.”

You went to the kitchen and took the glass lid of the cake dish. That was your mother’s too. The long crack up the side made you want to cry. If she could see how the life she’d left behind had become so distorted. You took a plate from the mat and dried it before you laid it out. You cut a slice from the cake and carefully angled it onto the saucer.

“Should I put the kettle on?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair before he sat. The wood groaned under him. He put his hat on the table decisively.

“You got milk? I had a coffee on the way.” He sat back in the chair and spread his legs wide.

“Milk,” you repeated as you neared and set the plate on the table then grabbed a fork from the drawer. You handed him the silver then went to the fridge, “Should be enough.”

You poured him a glass and put it down beside the plate as he greedily cut a bite out of the sponge with his fork. You went back to the sink and stuck your hands in the tepid water as you fished out the last few bowls and scrubbed them one at a time. You could hear him chewing behind you as the metal hit the porcelain with each bite.

“You really don’t entertain much, do you?” He asked.

“Sheriff?” you pulled the stopped and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands.

“You know, I go ‘round folks’ houses and the wives, they smile, flip their hair, even excuse themselves to powder up,” he remarked, “And here you are doing your washing. Your back to me and everything.”

“I told my daddy I’d have ‘em done,” you shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting ya.”

“I rarely announce myself to shiners,” he rolled his eyes, “Must be quite the life, hmm? You cleaning up behind four boys. You look old enough to have a man of your own to worry about.”

“Maybe,” you wrung the dish towel. 

“Most girls your age are outta their daddy’s house and settled down with a babe on their hip. Even two.” He said.

You frowned. “Well, Sheriff Bodecker, are you married?”

He squinted and tilted his head. He smirked and said ‘no’.

“You’re older than me. Maybe you’re the one who’s overdue.”

“Not too old,” he stabbed the last morsel of cake.

You turned away and grabbed a cup and wiped it dry. You went about drying each piece as he sat quietly. You sensed his gaze as you put away the dishes. The tension mounted as you snapped shut the cupboard and he tapped the plate with the fork.

You were relieved when you heard the gravel crunching outside. Your daddy was back. The putter of his old truck was a welcoming sound.

“That should be him,” you said as you went to the table and picked up his plate. 

He set the fork atop it and grabbed your wrist before you could back away. “You take good care of a man.”

You swallowed and resisted the urge to pull away. “Not too many men can take care of themselves,” you uttered.

He laughed and let you go. He stood and you quickly scurried away to dump the plate in the sink. “Probably right,” he said as he took his jacket and pulled it on, “Definitely not in the ways a woman can take care of a man.”

You turned the faucet as the front door clattered. “Sherriff?” You father called down the hall, “You in here?”

“Here, Rhett,” He flipped his hat on and winked at you, “Son of a bitch, I’ve been waiting long enough.”

🚔

There was a cluster of brambles deep in the woods. A carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves slowly wilted to brown beneath your feet as you climbed through the brush. You clutched your basket in one hand, your fingers cold even inside your gloves as the winter crept nearer with each day. 

You were the old scarf with the uneven edges. The first one you knitted yourself after your mama had shown you how. Your fleece jacket was hand-me-down from Cal, the sleeves were too long and it puffed out from your body when you zipped it, an old oil stain along the left side. Your skirt, your own creation from two of your mama’s, hung to your knees, your stocking barely thick enough to keep out the chill. The heel of your right boot flopped as it threatened to fall off entirely and made the trek all the more treacherous.

You tossed walnuts into your basket every now and then if they weren’t crushed or caked in mud. The trees muffled all noise the deeper you got and the trees loomed darker above. You stopped at the overgrowth of leaves and vines. Blackberries and raspberries hung plump in the last harvest of the season. You preferred the wild berries to the grocers; they were larger and juicier.

You set down your basket as you pushed through the sharp, thin branches and began to pick. You knelt to grab those hidden at the bottom, dumping handfuls atop your collection of walnuts.

You heard a rustle behind you. Subtle, soft. More likely a deer than a bear. You peeked over your shoulder but didn’t give much heed to the disturbance. There was always some creature flitting around in the forest. You tuned back to your work, your gloves dappled with the dark juices of the berries as some were so soft the burst on touch.

The bushes behind you shook and a twig snapped.

“What you doing out here all alone? I thought you were a bear.”

You stood as you recognized the voice. You dropped the berries in your hand into the basket before you turned and clapped off your gloves. “I thought the same of you.” You blanched as you saw his gun in hand. “You hunting out here with that?”

Sheriff Bodecker looked down at his pistol and scoffed. “Maybe,” he looked up as he kept his gun in hand, “How you know about these berries?”

“They’re wild. There for the taking,” you turned back and pushed through the brambles as you plucked berries from the bunch, “Mama used to take us here when we we’re kids.”

“You lookin’ to make another cake?” His boots crushed the leaves and sticks as he neared.

“Conserves; jams,” you answered bluntly as your basket filled with each handful. “Too bad strawberries are all gone for the season.”

You sensed him watching you as you stooped again. He reached down to your basket and took a raspberry. He popped it in his mouth as he straightened. You glanced over, his gun was pointed at the ground but still in hand. He knocked it gently against his leg as if thinking.

“Tart,” he said, “I prefer strawberry. Sweeter.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled as you dug through the bush, “Well, they charge too much down at the grocer for ‘em.”

It was quiet but for you pushing past the bramble and filling your basket. You could hear him breathing above you as he watched, transfixed by your simple ritual.

“Never told me why you’re all the way out here,” you said as you contented yourself with your haul. “Should I be worried? Some criminal out here hiding in the branches?”

“Sitting by the river on my break, as I do,” he shrugged as you lifted your basket. “It’s a far way back to your daddies. My cruiser’s closer. I can take you home.”

“I prefer the walk. Gives me an excuse to be away.” You smiled and made to step past him.

“We can take our time,” he caught your arm.

“Thank you, Sheriff, but I can find my own way back.”

He turned you to him and raised his gun. His eyes searched your face as he pressed the muzzle to your cheek.

“Ain’t much on the first look but after a while, you’re not so bad,” he said as you stiffened, “If you didn’t dress like a matron, you might even be pretty.” His gun fell to the collar of the jacket. “Usually men don’t offer favours to girls who ain’t pretty.”

“Let go of me,” you pleaded softly, “Sheriff…”

He pointed his gun skyward and released you. He holstered the pistol and laughed to himself.

“You go on lift up that skirt and give me a good look. Then I’ll drive you back to your daddy’s. You have my word as an officer of the law.”

“Pardon--”

“Shhh,” his hand lingered on the pistol, playing with the little strap that would snap it into place, “No one needs to know. Just a peek.”

“Sheriff--”

“Girl,” he cleared his throat, “Ya gonna do what I tell you or I’m gonna make you do worse. Now go on.”

He snatched the basket out of your hand and you let out your breath, relieved at least that he no longer had his fingers on his pistol.

“It’s cold out--”

“You argue with your daddy this much? He don’t seem the type to bide it and let me tell you, he seems a lot more tolerant than me.” He took another berry and chewed it, “So lift your skirt and we’ll be on our way.”

You stared at him. He smirked and licked the dark juice away from his lip. You hands shook as you bent and clumsily felt your skirt. You gathered the hem and stood. You bunched up the fabric around the bottom of the coat and he tutted in satisfaction.

“Turn around for me, girl,” he softly swung the basket, “Bend over so I can get a nice look at you.”

“Sher--”

“I really don’t wanna knock ya around and you don’t want that either,” he warned. “Two seconds. That’s all it will take.”

You gulped as bile burned your throat. You turned, careful not to catch the loose heel of your boot, and held your breath. You bent forward slowly.

“Further,” he ordered. The thin cotton of your underwear stretched across your ass. “Well, you got a much nicer backside than I expected.”

You let out a sharp breath as he pinched your ass and you stood suddenly. You stumbled forward and dropped your skirts. He laughed as you spun to face him. He shoved the basket against your chest. 

“See how easy that was,” he leered at you as you took the basket. “Who you hidin’ that body from? Maybe your daddy’s a selfish man, hmmm? Keeping you from all the men.”

“Can we go?” You muttered as you tried to hide behind the basket.

His blue eyes bore into yours and he shifted on his feet. His hand rubbed the front of his pants as he side stepped you.

“Sure, cruisers ‘round the bend.” He waved you past him and waited. “Come on, you said you wanted to go.”

You walked past him along the trail and he followed, close as his loud breaths filled the air. He pointed you down the path with curt orders and you came into sight of the broad river. His car was parked just off the sideroad that led back to the town. 

His keys jingled as he brushed by you, dragging his hand across your rear as he did. He opened the passenger door and looked at you. You neared and quickly got in, sitting on the long seat within. He closed the door harshly and rounded to the other side. The car dipped with his weight and he shoved the keys in the slot.

“Come here,” he gestured with two fingers, “Closer.”

“What?”

“Put the berries down,” he pointed to the other side of you and you placed the basket on the seat.

“I should be home sooner than later. I gotta start cooking--”

“I’ll get you there,” he grabbed your arm and slid you over the seat. He flipped his hat off and dropped it over the basket. He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Go on, put me in first.”

He gripped the wheel with his other hand and you blinked dumbly. You realised what he meant and pushed the shifted into gear.

“You cold? You’re shivering,” He said as he carefully turned the car, “Just tryna warm you up, girl.”

“I’m fine,” you crossed your arms as he drove at a snail's pace up the dirt road.

“I’m cold,” he gave an exaggerated ‘brrr’, “Do me a favour. Unzip me.”

“What?” You tried to pull away and he bent his arm around your neck, his hand along your chest as your head was nearly on his.

“I’m hard as fuck. You did that. Now take care of it.” He growled. “Get these damn pant unzipped and finish it.”

“Let go--”

“You don’t start listening and I’ll tell you’re daddy what a whore you are. Up in the woods flaunting your ass to the wind.”

You stared down at your stitched skirt. Your mama’s. You only wore her clothes. They were modest. You’d once worn a dress your friend Laverne had given you, more modern, with a shorter skirt. Your daddy belted you until it was ruined.

Your hands trembled as you felt along the Sheriff’s stomach and fumbled beneath. You unbuckled his belt clumsily and found his fly ready to burst. You pushed his zipper down as he groaned and he lifted his arm over the seat. His underwear was tight to his bulging cock.

“Now don’t keep wastin’ my time and take me out,” he snarled.

You pulled the elastic down and he popped out above it. You hesitated as you stared at his throbbing tip.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed.

“Christ, girl,” he snickered, “Grab it and just… move your hand.”

You shuddered and wrapped your fingers around his cock. It was as thick as the rest of him. You gripped it but still had no idea what to do next.

“Up and down. Like your polishing a shotgun,” he urged, “A nice long barrel.” You bit down and slid your hand along his length. “Tighter,” he gritted through his teeth, “Faster…”

He purred as you played with him. He drove a little faster and steered with one hand as his other hand clawed the back of the seat.

“Fuckin’ don’t know, girl, feels like you know exactly what to you,” he uttered, “Got me close already.”

You stared at the middle of the steering wheel, the silver emblem, and tried not to think about what you were doing. His hand fell to your back and he caressed the back of your coat. He grasped the cloth in his fist as his grunts grew louder and longer.

“Grab that coffee cup,” he demanded, “Go on, you don’t wanna make a mess.”

You took the cup with one hand and popped the top off with your thumb. It flew onto the floor and he hummed.

“Hold it at the tip, before--” He choked on his words and you quickly moved the cup. 

He hit the brake and white ribbons streamed from his cock and laced the rim of the cup and your fingers. White globs slid down the paper and you slowed as a chill went through you. You pulled away your slimy hand and the cup. He took the latter and tossed it out the window and sighed.

“Shit, girl, that was good,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his glistening cock before covering himself up and zipping up his pants. “Get cleaned up.” He tossed the cloth on your lap, “Not far from home, now.”

🚔

Your days passed like molasses. Ever since your venture into the forest, your life slowed to an interminable pace. Your thoughts were darkened by the sheriff’s shadow. You scrubbed, scoured, and swept but could not rid yourself of the memory. The scene played over and over in your head. You swore you could feel him still spread across the palm of your hand.

A week after, when he drove up behind the boys on their return from town, you watched through the window in dread. Cal, Arn, and Will hopped out of the truck and greeted the sheriff. The four of them went to the shed where your daddy was, the latter peeked over at the house as he passed.

You were reassured that your brothers were there. The sheriff wouldn’t, really couldn’t, try anything more. You went back to basting the thick chops. As you made to cap your homemade sauce, the back door opened and your daddy looked in from the mud room.

“You bring out some glasses for the lot of us. And put an extra chop on for the sheriff,” your father slurred. He’d already started drinking. “He be joining us tonight.”

He left before you could respond. He usually drank his swill out of old jars and saved your mother’s dishes. You coated another chop in spice and set it with the rest before slipping them in the oven. You washed your hands and counted out five glasses. You hugged them in your arms and stepped into your boots. 

You pushed the screen door open with your elbow and tramped down the steps. You crossed to the shed and kicked the door with your boot. “Daddy,” you called through the wood.

Will slid open the shed door and you stepped inside. You went to the table and placed the glasses down on the old chipped surface. You stood and looked around. Your father filled each with the clear shine from a large jar.

“Isn’t he a bit young?” You said as Will sat back down.

“Not your business, woman,” your daddy spat, “Go back in the house. To your business.”

“Yes, daddy.” You sniffed and looked at Will. He gave an apologetic smile but none of your brothers ever stood up against your daddy.

“Lady not joining us?” Bodecker asked.

“Ha, that girl gets a whiff of this stuff and she’d be on her back. This ain’t no drink for ladies,” your daddy chortled. “About time you tried it. What you been doin’ will all that swill I give ya.”

“Boys at the station like it. I think they’re some of your best customers, ain’t they?” Bodecker countered. “Besides, I been tryna stay clear of the drink.”

“One night won’t hurt,” your daddy coaxed.

You went back to the door and slid it shut behind you as the men continued to chatter. Well, they would at least drink themselves too senseless to bother you much.

🚔

You cleared the table of the empty plates and scraps left by the drunken men. They had been loud and raucous, so much so you’d eaten your dinner at the counter to avoid them. When they finished, they left in a stumble, though the sheriff seemed as steady as ever as he trailed behind. He stopped at the door as he held it and peered back from the mud room at you.

You washed the dishes and put them away. You wiped down the table and fixed the chairs around it. The night was moonless and eerie. The wind wailed and shook each window and door in the house as it seemed to blow right through the walls.

The mud room door clattered again. It had been over an hour since the men returned to the shed. Their voices no longer carried in the air but the shed remained alight from within. You turned as Bodecker closed the door. He carried a tall glass of swill as he stopped in the door frame.

“Lightweights,” he said, “All your men passed out. Think one of ‘em pissed in their pants.”

“You’re drunk,” you said as you kept behind the table.

“Not really. I couldn’t finish mine,” he crossed to the other side of the table and set down the glass, “Why don’t you finish it for me?”

“I don’t drink that stuff,” you said, “Dump it out on the grass.”

“You work so hard. You should have a little fun,” he rounded the table and slid the glass across it as he neared, “Come on. Have a drink.”

“I don’t--” He grabbed you suddenly, wrestled you down into a chair and held you there by your shoulders.

He lifted one hand and felt around his belt. He flicked his holster open and rubbed the pistol with his thumb. 

“Drink it.” You watched his hand on his gun. He slid it out just a little. “Ugly things men do when they drinking. “Playing with guns… sometimes don’t always end up so fun. Don’t think the young one would make it in the hold.”

“No, you--”

“Drink,” he sneered. “It’ll loosen you up.”

You reached for the glass and he nodded. He snapped his holster closed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of you. You put your lips to the edge of the glass and the alcohol stung your nostrils. You tipped it, slowly, and tasted it with a gag. It was vile, stringent, and fiery. He pushed it up with two fingers until you were choking on it. He didn’t let up until the glass was empty and the shine dripped down your chin.

You slammed the glass down and coughed. You touched your throat as your head spun and a warmth nestled in your cheeks. You tried to shake away the haze that washed over you.

“That’s it, girl,” he purred as he leaned forward, “You feel better, don’t you?”

“N-no,” you stammered as you gripped the chair.

“’Daddy’,” he said, “Girl, you had me hard in there… you too old to be callin’ that man, daddy.” He stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, “But you be right to call me daddy.”

“I don’t feel…” Your stomach burned and you tried to stand. You stumbled and he caught you.

“Don’t you get all jumpy on me, girl,” he sat you back down. “You gonna hurt yourself.”

You slumped in the chair and braced your head. You felt terribly dizzy and your inside were alight. You heard a jingle and looked up as Bodecker unzipped his pants. You recalled the day in the car and filled with panic. You stood again and this time staggered, falling onto your knees with a cry.

“Mmm, it’s okay, girl, you can stay down there,” You looked up as he pulled his cock out through the vee of his pants, “Come here.” He grabbed your chin and yanked you forward, “Open up.”

You snapped your mouth shut and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His other hand came up behind your head and he pulled you close. His fingers spread across your head and he used his other hand to poke his cock against your lips.

“I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours and tell your pa he did it,” he growled, “Now come on.” You shook your head and he slapped you, hard. He seized you again. “Open!”

Your mouth fell open and your vision blurred as he shoved his cock inside. He forced himself down your throat and you kicked your feet as you grabbed at the front of his pants. He groaned and held his cock at its limit.

“And I thought you were good with your hands,” he pulled back and thrust back in. Your eyes rolled back as they teared up and you choked. “Mmm, much better.”

He started slow at first, though each tilt of his hips was relentless, deep and painful. You struggled to breathe around him and it only seemed to feed his lust. He gripped your head between his hand as he fucked your mouth, the sloppy sounds made your head swim as the slobber leaked down your chin and his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out of you suddenly and shoved you away. You fell back onto your ass and wiped your mouth. “You tryna end this night early or something.”

He let out a breath and watched his cock bob before him as he grunted.

“Get up and get your drawers off.” He ordered, “Then I want you like you was in the woods, huh? Skirt up.”

You wavered as you tried to climb to your feet. He caught your errant arm and pulled you up. He spun you and you swayed. He bent and his hands crawled up your skirt as he felt around. He ripped your underwear down and let them rest at your ankles. He turned you to the chair and pushed you forward. You fell and caught yourself against the seat. He threw your skirt up and bared your ass.

Your legs quaked as he pressed his hand between your legs and felt around. He rubbed your cunt as you squeezed him with your thighs. He pinched you and drew away.

“You don’t wanna make this harder than it needs to be girl,” he sneered, “You’re in no state for that.”

He stepped closer and bent over you. His arm wrapped around your middle as he felt around below you with his other hand. He caught the tip of his cock and guided it to your cunt. He pushed it along your folds, sliding it up and down until he found your entrance. You whimpered and pushed back against him, too weak to break free.

“You fight and it’ll hurt more,” he grunted as he pushed his tip into you and you yelped. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Another inch and he stopped as he took a breath, “Holy hell, girl, you really weren’t lying. You ain’t been touched.” 

He growled and inhaled the scent of your hair as his hand gripped the chair next to yours. He thrust into you in a single tilt and you exclaimed as he stretched your walls. You reached to the back of the chair and latched onto the crossbar as you tried not to sob.

He stood, slowly and pushed deeper into you as he grabbed your hip. His other hand kneaded your ass as he began to rock. His groans were as steady as his motion as he dipped in and out of you. He curled his fingers and dug his nails into your flesh as he panted, his stomach bouncing against your ass.

“Be as loud as you want, girl,” he barked, “No one gonna hear you.”

He rutted into as the chair shifted below you. He kept a hand on your hip as his other trailed up to your shoulder and he arched your back. His zipper bit into your flesh as he sped up, slapping against you harder and harder as you whined louder and louder. It hurt terribly and your entire being thrummed with an unknown sensation. 

You closed your eyes as your vision swirled and your arms shook. He pulled you back so you stood against him, your back curved as he hammered into you. You were on tiptoes as he didn’t let up and turned you against the table. Your fingertips brushed the top as you reached out blindly and his hand stretched across your neck as he forced your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m gonna cum, girl,” he hissed, “You fucking whore. You’re going to make me cu--”

He grunted and his hips spasmed as a warmth seeped into you. He gave several, final snaps of his hip and slowed. He fell forward with you bent beneath him against the table. Your legs were limp as he crushed you with his weight. His heart pounded through his chest and he gasped for breath. 

You sniffed and pushed back against him. You were suffocating. You needed him off of you. You needed him out of you. 

“We ain’t done yet,” he hooked his arm around you and pulled you back to sit on his lap as he fell into the chair. “You got two minutes to get me hard again or you can clean me up with your mouth.”

[jamesbarnesappreciationclub]

“Unsteady”

Summary: Alcoholism and it’s demons wreaks havoc upon Bucky and his family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2k (Yikes)

Warnings: Child abuse (reader slaps her son in a drunken rage), alcoholism

Beta Reader: Thank you isn’t an accurate description of how I feel. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude to @indyluckycharlie​. You’re a godsend. 

Divider credit: @whimsicalrogers​

A/N (1): My submission for @jbbarnesnnoble​ #JBBNNMHAM Challenge. Thank you for allowing me to participate. I hope you enjoy reading.

A/N (2): Alcoholism and mental health issues are important to me. The effect Fetal Alcohol Syndrome had on me were; speech impediment, multiple surgeries before I turned 6, learning disability and alcohol flowing through my veins. FAS didn’t defeat me. It made me stronger and determined not to follow in her footsteps.

PLEASE ENJOY READING. FEEL FREE TO LIKE, COMMENT OR REBLOG. THANK YOU!!!

Hold Hold on Hold on to me ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady A little unsteady….

Strands of fragrant violet hung from tree branches. The sun smiled and kissed everyone in attendance. Bucky stood tall, waiting for the love of his life to stride down the aisle. Y/N appeared, right on cue. Nothing rivaled the brilliant smile on her face. 

Bucky remembers their wedding day vividly. Remembers the flowers in her hair, her trilling laugh as he spun her around the dance floor, and the way the champagne tickled her nose- before he came to fear the glass in her hand.

Pulled from his reverie by the noticeable slur of his wife’s voice, “Hey Doll. Don’cha think you’ve had enough for today? Lemme get’cha something to eat.” 

All eyes at the table turned their way, especially when she’d had too much to drink. It wasn’t out of the norm for her to act belligerently towards anyone.

Frowning, Y/N pulled away from Bucky’s grip on her arm. “James, please let go of my arm. I’m fine.” Stumbling forward, her husband’s quick reflex broke Y/N’s fall.

“DAMNIT JAMES!!! WHY CAN’T YOU LEAVE ME THE ALONE? JUST TAKE ME HOME!!”

Sighing, Bucky’s cerulean eyes held the weight of the world. Nodding towards everyone, he excused himself. Waiting by the car, Y/N swayed.

As the demons become stronger, Bucky’s resolve weakens.

Momma Come here Approach Appear Daddy I’m alone ‘Cause this house don’t feel like home

If you love me Don’t let go If you love me Don’t let go

Malachi Anthony Barnes is the apple of Bucky’s eye. A carbon copy of himself. Y/N chose the name Malachi for its meaning; “my messenger” or “my angel.” She called her son a blessing. Anthony is in honor of Tony Stark, the “coolest and best” uncle (according to him.)

Bucky thrived as a dad. Malachi spent a great amount of time watching football games, playing in the pool, riding his training wheel bike or watching his daddy fix the motorcycle.

This fueled a tad bit of jealousy in Y/N. She loved her son, but wondered why he favored Bucky and not her.

As time progressed, the Barnes home ceased to be a safe haven for Malachi. ‘Monsters’ hurt his mommy and she started taking it out on her son.

Sitting at his drawing table, Malachi colored. Y/N became agitated for no apparent reason. Crayon, white construction paper and the table were flung across the room. Not understanding what just happened, Malachi tried to run. Y/N’s hand slammed against his little face. A high pitch scream alerted Bucky. 

Y/N stood frozen, as her son balled up on the floor, holding his face, screaming for his papa. Bucky couldn’t believe his wife raised a harmful hand to their son.

Grabbing the distraught boy, anger burned Bucky deep in his soul. Holding Malachi, he noticed swelling. He’d only felt such rage as the Winter Soldier. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

“I-I-I’m sorry. Oh my god, what is wrong with me?” Y/N shook, falling to her knees with hands in her hair.

“Papa,” Malachi whimpered, “can we see Uncle Steve?”

Malachi’s constant sniffling ripped Bucky from the dark haze clouding this mind. In that moment, he realized the time had come for aggressive action.

The sound of Bucky’s heart shattering pierced the atmosphere. Y/N’s actions harmed their little boy. This wasn’t acceptable. Retreating upstairs, Bucky packed Malachi’s backpack. This was the end of the line.

“Stevie, I need ya.” Bucky called his childhood friend. “It’s Y/N. She, um, smacked Malachi. Please come get him. Putting m’foot down.”

“Y-yeah Buck. I’m on the way. Hang in there pal.” Steve shook his head.

Huddling in a corner, Y/N cradled a bottle of scotch. Tears raced down her face. 

Wiping his eyes harshly, Bucky wept. “M’sorry sweetheart. We can’t keep doing this. Ya need some help.” 

Hugging Malachi to his chest, Bucky vowed to help Y/N get the treatment needed to beat her demons. 

“I won’t leave ya Doll. Just gonna make sure Malachi’s safe. We’ll get through this together.”

The bottle slipped from Y/N hands, spilling amber liquor on the floor. “Where’ya going with m’son?”

“Gonna send him with Stevie.” Y/N attempted to stand, eyes wide. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Wh-what? You have no right to take my son. He’s MINE damnit!!” Y/N swayed.

“Shhhh. Can’t ya see he’s scared? Calm down!” Bucky spoke through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Y/N reached out. Malachi recoils further into Bucky’s chest.

At that moment, Y/N realizes the severity of her actions, and their consequences.

“What have I done? He’s scared of me.”

Malachi gazed into his mommy’s hollow eyes. “I love you mommy. Hope the monster’s go away so you’ll love me again.”

“Baby, mommy will love you forever and a day. Have fun with Uncle Steve.”

Malachi nodded, waving goodbye to Y/N. She held back tears as she blew him a kiss.

Closing the door, Bucky walked Malachi out to Steve’s car. The two friend’s leaned against the car, as Bucky filled him in on what occurred.

Steve vowed to take care of his godson. “I’ll take care of Malachi as my own. Hope everything works out for Y/N.”

Kissing the top of his son’s head, Bucky closed the car door. Dejected, he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Hold Hold on Hold onto me ‘Cause I’m a little unsteady A little unsteady…...

Bucky gently closed the front door, finding Y/N going through their wedding album, reliving fond memories. Tears streaked her face.

“What the hell happened to us, James?” Closing the book, Y/N hugged it to her chest rocking back and forth.

“Hey, hey babydoll. C’mere, I gotcha.” The moment crashed into Bucky like a tidal wave. They simply held each other, allowing tears to freely flow. 

“James, I need help. This is bigger than me.” Tired, dead eyes gazed up at him.

Wiping his eyes, Bucky reached for the laptop, pulling up AA’s information page.

Step One: Y/N admitted she was powerless over alcohol and her life had become unmanageable.

@jbbarnesnnoble​ @indyluckycharlie​ @loricameback​ @marvelgirl7​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​ @eurynome827​ @jobean12-blog​ @jewels2876​

[leilabeaux]

Lost

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1559

Summary: Reader gets lost in the forest after Ivar decides to let her go.

Author’s Note: Just me here, still trying to lay down some foundation about these two. Don’t worry, Reader will stop being such a little shit eventually.

More from The Stolen Queen: When Heathen King Meets Christian Queen The Secret Visit

----

Ivar knew something was amiss when he saw the door of the cabin was closed and latched on the outside. He figured you must have tried to run off again until he noticed one of his guards missing from his post.

“Arn, where is Vali?” When the remaining guard pointed toward a covered up mound near the tree line, he rubbed his face in frustration. His absence was meant to placate you and curtail your deadly behavior, not fuel it. “And what did she get a hold of this time?”

This was the second guard you managed to get rid of in the past month since you’ve lived here. Either you was more deceitful than he gave you credit for or he just had a habit of picking stupid men to watch over you. Considering that you were previously caught with various weapons stolen from the more naive of the guards, he figured it was a combination of the two.

“Last week's dinner.” He tossed the weapon to Ivar “She sharpened a chicken bone into a spike and got him good in the neck. It's a pretty decent weapon too, imagine if it was something bigger.” The large man had a rare hint of a smile on his face, looking like a proud father.

“You find this is amusing?”

Arn shrugged, “I didn’t care for him all that much. Never shut his mouth. Guess I don’t have to worry about that now.”

“I’m starting to think that you and her are in this together,” Ivar shook his head as he went to unlatch and open the door.

You were standing with your back against the pillar, your arms tied behind you. Rolling your eyes as soon as you saw him enter the cabin, you leaned your head back, choosing to stare at the rafters instead.

He took a seat at the table in front of you, gently placing the offending weapon at the center before interlacing his fingers in his lap. “What am I going to do with you, Y/N?”

“You could always let me go.” You stated bluntly, shifting around in your binds. He wasn’t sure exactly how long you’ve been standing there but he imagined you were starting to get uncomfortable. You brought your head back down to look at him, “Or would you just make sure that I can’t run again?”

Ivar seemed to usually be caught between irritation and amusement when it came to you. Defiant wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you. You had tried to run off on your first morning at the cabin but was quickly stopped by his guards. When he arrived that night, he had expected to find a scared little queen who would beg for his forgiveness by any means necessary. Instead you stood in front of him with your head held high, daring him to do as he promised. At that moment, he found himself unable to keep his word. He had you locked in for the rest of the week until you were on your best behavior.

“I think I’ve been a very considerate host. I make sure that you’re well fed, that you’re clothed in the best dresses, that you sleep under the warmest furs. But still you try to leave or you kill my men. Why? I’ve treated you better than I would most of my family.” With the help of his crutch, he stood from the table and walked over to you. He bent at the waist so he could be at your eye level. 

You turned your head to the wall to avoid his gaze, refusing to say anything to him.

He grabbed a hold of your jaw and forced you to look at him. “Do you even know where you are? Or which way you need to go to get back home? You’re safer here, I’m only keeping you here for your own good, my little queen.” His hold on you softened, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. He walked around behind you to loosen the rope around your arms.

Falling over onto your hands and knees after taking a first step, your legs weakened after having to stand for too long. You rolled over to sit on the floor and look up at him as he walked over to sit on the bed.

Ivar propped his chin on his crutch, raising his brows, “You want to leave? So go. I won’t stop you.”

You slowly rose to your feet with some uncertainty. He couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that was bubbling up inside as he watched you walk out the door. Even though he knew you would be back, he had wished that you had chosen to stay.

Arn rushed into the cabin, looking confused after witnessing you run off, “Are you really letting her go?,” he questioned.

 “Let her tire herself out and then bring her back,” he ordered before laying back onto the bed to rest his eyes. “I doubt she will get far. She’s a fierce fighter but I don’t think navigation is one of her strengths.”

----

Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you kept running but you couldn’t stop now. Refusing to believe Ivar would simply let you go without a fight, you were determined to get as much distance between you and the guard that you were sure was sent after you. You were too busy checking behind you once again when you felt your feet fall out from under you, taking a hard tumble down a small hill. 

You saw stars and felt the air knocked out of you when your back finally hit the ground. Letting out a groan, you rolled onto your hands and knees. You tried to stand but the sharp pain from your ankle brought you back down. You considered staying put for the rest of the night but the snap of a branch from afar reminded you that that wouldn’t be the best plan. With all the strength you had left, you managed to get back up and limp away. 

You gritted your teeth through the pain as you kept walking. The branches and leaves of the trees above you had obscure your view of the moon, making it hard for you to tell how long you’ve been going now. You paused to take in your surroundings, looking for any sign you were headed in the right direction. You thought you would have been out of the other end of the forest by now.

“No, no, no,” you cried out loud to yourself when you noticed the felled tree you were sure you had already passed moments ago. There was no possible way that you were walking around in a circle. Collapsing onto your knees in exhaustion, everything seemed to be spinning around you now even though you were still.

You laid on your side, curling into yourself on the forest floor in a sad attempt to keep warm. You had only shut your eyes for a brief moment before you opened them again and found yourself staring at a familiar face. 

The woman was lying beside you, looking the same as she did the last time you saw her. The white war markings around her face stood in stark contrast to her deep brown skin, her long, thick braids wrapped around her golden crown.

“Mama,” you called out softly in a language you haven’t spoken in many years, “I’m afraid that I’m lost.”

You felt the warmth of her hand as she caressed your cheek. “You are never truly lost. Our God has led you to where you need to be. My dearest daughter, the destined wife of the beast-- her end will mark the beginning of his downfall but she will birth the hope he needs to rise again.”

When your mother first foretold this prophecy, you regarded it more as a scary tale than anything else. “Well, God has led me to be lost. I didn’t understand the words he spoke through you then and I still don’t understand now,” you admitted.

“Don’t worry, it will become clear to you soon. Now rest your eyes, my brave girl.” You knew she wasn’t really with you but you could have sworn you felt her hand smooth down your hair 

Waking to the crunching of leaves on the ground, you felt as if you were floating in the air.  You opened your eyes to see Arn’s weathered face above you. You looked past him, gazing up at the hint of reds dusting the sky that was peeking through the forest canopy. How long had you been out?

You were contemplating whether it was worth struggling out of his hold when you heard her again, repeating the last words she ever spoke to you, “Be not afraid, you’ll be safe with him. He’s taking you home. Home to your king.” Resting your eyes once again, you allowed yourself to be lulled by sounds of the forest around you.

When Arn finally laid you down on your bed, you rolled over away from him, waiting until you heard his retreating steps out of the cabin. You finally allowed yourself to weep after growing tired of trying to remain strong. Your mother must have had it wrong, you were still lost and so far from home.

----

Tags:  @youbloodymadgenius​ @tsumamibaddie​ @walkxthexmoon @ivarsgoddess​ @akaward-potato​  @spotgaai2000

(Sorry if you get a notification for this again, had to fix my tags)

[precioustinkie]

Stay Safe and help

Aimii's p.o.v

It was a beautiful day in the forest like no other. The sun was shining. Its summer rays were hitting the forest leaves making the scenery from below look absolutely stunning. I sat on a tree branch looking up towards the sky and reaching my hand out touching the sunlit leaf feeling its warmth. 'I wonder...', I thought to myself as I pull away from the sky and look out into the distance, to see walls blocking my view of the rest of the scenery, 'what is it like to be caged in walls?'.

"Aimii..." "Aimii..." AIMII!!", I yelled out sitting up quickly only to be met with another forehead that I didn't know was there.

"Owww...Arn..what was that for??", I moaned in pain holding my head and looking at my older brother who was also holding his head.

" I was trying to get your attention but you were so into "la la land" that I had to yell, you were the one who jumped and headbutted me.", he said rolling his green eyes.

"Well now you have my attention and part of my pain. What is it? Is it time to go home?", I asked as he nodded and started to jump from branch to branch to get down.

I stood up seeing the sun was about to set 'geez, I hope dad won't be too mad or worried if we get home late.' I thought as I jumped down following my brother. You see our dad doesn't like it when we stay out late because of these creatures he used to fight. He called them "Titans" and talks about how he used to fight them all the time! That is until he met mom and left the walls to be with her.

As we continued to walk on home, Arn looks at me then sighs, "I don't get why you want to go live in the walls so badly?" I looked at him and chuckled.

"That's where you're wrong." he looked at me curiously, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

"It's not that I want to go in the walls but to simply see what their lifestyle is like. To see what is the difference between theirs and ours." I looked up while finishing my thought while he chuckled and ruffled my hair.

"Hehe, you always had a thing for being so philosophical." "I wouldn't call that philosophical, I would call it curiosity."

"Sure sis, whatever you say."

×Timeskip to when they get home×

As we got home, the sun had finally set for its rest, so we hurried into the house as quickly as we can. When we walked in, we were hit by an amazing aroma of our favorite foods {I couldn't think of a particular type of food so here ya go!!👌} we quickly took off our shoes and ran to the table. Mom laughed at us and asked,

"Did you kids wash your hands?" we both rushed upstairs trying to beat the other. I ran in front of him about to reach the bathroom, until my little sister, Kyrii, ran from her room and into the bathroom sticking her tongue out at us and closing the door locking it.

"Hey!! No fair!!" "You cheated!!" we yelled and she replied with,

"Well that is what you both get for being reckless!".

After the bathroom situation,  everyone sat down to eat and started having conversations. My mom was talking to my dad and sometimes my grandmother and aunt, my uncle and grandfather were having a conversation about something they created while my siblings and I talked about which part of the forest is left undiscovered by us. It all nice and calm until my mom cleared her throat and made the announcement that started this entire tragedy in the first place. "Excuse me everyone but I have an announcement to make...so please just hear me out" we all looked at her confused but our looks of confusion soon turned into to looks of horror, shock, and surprise. Why? Well because what she said sealed it all.

"I've been thinking...and I want to join the Survey Corps....in other words...I want to go in the walls"

×TimeSkip:music for more effect×

 https://youtu.be/ewBOcdz29Sw

"No, absolutely not!!" my uncle said slamming his hands on the table Kyrii and I jumped,

"I will not allow you to put yourself in harm's way Angel!! Think about the kids!! How do you think they would feel?!" my mom looked at uncle calmly and replied,

"I know you are only concerned Mark, but I am tired of seeing those soldier's bodies all mangled and damaged. I may not have ever lived in the wa-"

"No that's just it. You have never lived in the walls like Kyle, dad and I have. How would you know that that will even accept you?"

"I don't. But I know something they don't...I know how to move around the forest. I know everything about this place, about the outside!! If I can teach that to you that I can definitely teach it to them."

I looked down in thought. Mom could be on to something, I have seen bodies of fallen soldiers and if I had, to be honest, I feel kinda bad that I couldn't help them or at least guide them to safety. I looked over at Arn who seemed to be in thought and Kyrii who just watched.

"Angel, I don't know about this..." I heard my grandmother said,

"Mom right Ang...what if something happens to you?" my aunt spoke up soon after. My mom smiled and looked at my dad and said,

"I'll have Kyle protect me...because he's coming with me" now everyone looked my dad as he sighed, "Look, someone needs to watch over her" he replied,

"Really Kyle?? After you leave the military and start a family which you are so happy about!! Now you want to go back and fight?!" the air was tense but grandfather broke it with two questions,

"Angel....are you sure you want to do this?" my mom looked all of us with a determined look on her face, a face that said

"I will keep going even if I get beaten down", my uncle nodded then looked towards us kids,

"How do you three feel about it?" all the adults looked at us.

The air was so tense, so quiet that you could hear any slight movement of a creature outside, "I don't like the idea." I heard Kyrii say, "But I will umm what's the word?"

"Support it," Arn said softly looking at the ground before looking up, "We don't agree with the idea but we will support you"

"Well I for one like the idea," I say shocking everyone, "Mom and dad want to be heroes and help humanity, even though these " Titans" didn't bother us, it must be for a reason. I say do it!" I say loudly and determined. Everyone thought about what I said and the decision was made.

Mom and dad shall leave tomorrow morning before sunrise.

ƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥƥ

Hey guys and welcome to my new story!!! Yes, it's an Attack on Titan story and a story have been wanting to do for a long time now actually. So I hope you all enjoy this story because I feel more inspired to write this story than I do with any of my others so I hope that this book will change that! The next chapter to be out tomorrow or Tuesday.

Also! Let me know if I made any mistakes, I really do appreciate the feedback.  And the picture is supposed to be Aimii

Ja Ne!!!

Editor me: OKAY!  so now that I am in college English I am goint to edit something tlike the speech so hopefully you guys can read this better.