#dark reader au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dolicekiss · 2 months ago

Text

Cameras & Cash

PAIRING: Modern!Aemond Targaryen X camgirl!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) reader is sort of like an innocent bimbo, cam girl reader turned sugar baby, controlling aemond, toxic aemond, petnames, masturbation, fingering, brutal throat fucking, breath play, sugar daddy aemond, forced brutal fucking, pussy slapping, face slapping, hair pulling, degrading, humiliation, condescension, riding, mating press, choking, spitting.

SYNOPSIS: When Aemond finds you with your fingers deep inside your cunt, sprawled in front of a computer, he realizes his roommate is a camgirl in need of cash. He offers you money, in exchange for your time and attention while setting one rule in front of you; never turn off your location. But you exactly end up doing that.

The last thing Aemond Targaryen expected was to walk in on his little roommate, you, with your fingers in between your pretty pink cunt, moans of desperation and need falling her glossy lips. Fingers thrusting inside your sweet hole, sprawled out in front of your webcam set atop a table in front of your bed.

His jaw clenched, hearing the sounds that escaped your lips. His fingers had tightened around the plastic bag in which he had brought you food — something he thought you'd like.

Little did he know you were relishing in your solitude.

“Hm, please—God, feels so good.” Aemond gulped, shutting his eyes for a moment as he attempted to move but it was as if his feet were frozen to the ground, not allowing him to move at all. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he attempted to swallow the lump of saliva that had formed in his throat.

You were supposed to be an innocent, shy nerd. This, it was not you or maybe it fucking was. Aemond had no idea anymore but he should've figured it out. Every time you'd get multiple packages to your name, littered outside their apartment door and you'd always make up excuses. He should've kniwn something was up, something like this.

His fucking roommate was a camgirl.

Aemond snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the constant ringing of something, tiny little bells going off.

Your eyes fluttered open to glance at the screen, to check in the tips sent to you by your viewers but instead you caught a glimpse of Aemond standing in the doorway. Immediately you retrieved your fingers from your soaked cunt and pressed the button to end the live stream.

You didn't even bother explaining.

First you had to get out of this damn bunny suit.

Your mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts as you leaped here and there to grab something appropriate to wear. The soft bunny tail embedded in your suit bounced up and down as you moved and Aemond cursed himself for finding it adorable. Thinking how it'd bounce each time he would thrust his cock inside you.

Once your fingers managed to grasp onto an oversized sweatshirt, Aemond watched as you dashed for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind.

In a couple of minutes you were out, dressed in the sweatshirt and not the playboy bunny suit anymore. Your sweatshirt covered your thighs and Aemond averted his gaze away from you, standing still.

“I'm so sorry you had to see that.” You apologized, nodding your head as your gaze fell down to the plastic bag in his hand. It had the logo of your favorite restaurant and you smiled. But then it disappeared realizing how stunned he appeared. “I can explain—”

“You're a camgirl?”

Well, the question was abrupt but you knew Aemond was not the type of guy to beat around the bush. He was direct, straight forward and less expressive than normal people you'd met on the campus.

Heat flooded beneath your cheeks as you nodded. “It's—It's to pay for for my loans. It pays a lot.”

Aemond tilted his head, his gaze lingering across the room. How disheveled it was when you were usually reserved, put together and calm. His eyes found you, how small you were in comparison to him. Brain playing all sorts of imaginations right now. “How well does it pay?”

Thousands of dollars.” You responded, fingers moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I need it, for tuition and living expenses.”

Aemond’s mind was blank but then an idea lit up in his mind. You needed money and fortunately enough, you were a pretty girl. He'd always acknowledged that and kept an eye on you, albeit he kept to himself most of the time. You two weren't close enough to be called friends but you two knew each other.

“I have a proposition.”

You blinked, confused by his words.

But what followed next left you speechless.

“How would you feel, if you had a sponsor?” Aemond said, his hand scratching his nape.

You gulped, appalled by his abrupt proposition. “You'd pay for everything?”

“Of course I would. Everything would be taken care of.” Aemond took a step. “No student loans. No having to work a job. I would take care of everything. In return you’d just have to do one little thing.” Aemond said as she continued being awkward, like this was the first time he'd ever done this.

You knew that Aemond was the richest guy around campus. He basically possessed enough money to purchase the whole of the university you two attended. You were on a scholarship but living expenses and other loans were piling up. It was already hard as it is settling in a new place, but then you decided to become a camgirl. It required a lot of effort and courage to step into the world of sex work but it was enough to take care of you.

You knew that nothing came for free.

Especially kindness from someone rich. Everything had a cost to it — nothing in this world was for free. Besides oxygen but you could even see that becoming sellable in the near future.

“And what is this little thing?” You asked with suspicion in your gaze. You almost wanted to chuckle, since you were proven right. “You want to be my sugar daddy, now?”

Aemond cleared his throat at the label. He did not like labels. He was not very fond of them but he nodded since it made things very easier for you to understand. ”Is that a problem? Everyone you want, you'll get. You'll be taken care of, all your needs fulfilled.”

You pondered over it.

The deal wasn't bad — it was way better than touching yourself for thousands of men on the intention.

But then it would mean depending on him, for everything. You didn't know how much you liked the idea. If things went haywire with him, you would still have enough money in your bank account for you get back up on your feet and being a cam girl was something you could get back into at any time.

You scrunched up your nose and thought before finally giving in.

But you were also curious as to why he wished to be your sugar daddy.

“Okay, I'm down for it.” You nodded your head and smiled. “But— I don't understand, why are you helping me out?”

“You need money and I have a tremendous amount to offer.” Aemond spoke as he stepped closer to you, his fingers reaching out to curl around the long strand of hair, watching with a hawk like gaze. “I do have some conditions for this little arrangement, my pretty girl.”

Your cheeks flushed at the praise, something of the same sort as greed spreading within your stomach. “Yeah?”

“First, I don't want any other man in your life besides me.” You tilted your head at the possessiveness dripping from his words and how strict he sounded. “You belong to me and whatever I buy you, you'd wear. I want you to tell me where you are at all times of the day and lastly, you will be moving in my room.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by the set of peculiar rules set before you. They reeked of control and you gulped, realizing that the man before you wished to control you. It left you a little light headed as your mind pushed and pushed for you to decline but the deal was too tempting.

“I can't have boyfriends?” You asked, a little confused at what he was proposing. The relationship between the two of you was solely going to be based on give and take, an exchange that could satisfy both parties so what was up with that.

Aemond shook his head. “If you agree to this, you'd be mine which means no boyfriends, no dates and no hookups. I'll be available to satisfy your needs, whatever it is what you need. Whether it be materialistic, emotional or physical.”

So these conditions weren't as hard and impossible as you thought they'd be.

“You're controlling.” You stated the obvious.

Aemond scoffed. “I'm a Targaryen, our family is known for being in control at all times and chasing after the best results in everything. You should know that.”

He was right. His family was known all over the news — the media practically chased after them like they were air. It was lost on you how you managed to land in a university with him, as his roommate too. But you weren't complaining.

“I'll provide everything. Clothes, food, money, everything you could possibly desire. All I ask for is a little control and pretty company.” Your cheeks reddened at his words as you realized he'd called you pretty. The last thing you expected was to get complimented by the guy who mostly kept to himself and tried to avoid everyone.

You licked your lips, wetting it before finally nodding. “I like this. Both parties will be satisfied, it's valid.”

“Good girl.” Aemond’s sudden shift in nature was confusing but also somewhat enticing as you'd not expected him to be so dominant and controlling. “Do you have any other questions?”

You were going to say no but something popped up in your head. “Does the not involving other people rule apply to you as well, or are you allowed to have other women in your life?”

Aemond understood your question and knew where it came from. Definitely not from a place of insecurity but he was well aware that if he entertained other women while forbidding you from doing the same with other men, it would only cause you to feel inferior and lead to the downfall of whatever this situation was.

“Absolutely not.” Aemond broke the haunting silence. “I have no reason to invite other women into my life if I already have you, willing and pliant.”

You pondered over it and he was right. Albeit this relationship was based on personal needs, it was not necessary for him to have other women since he had you. “We have a deal.”

Aemond nodded his head and then his gaze dropped to the worn out sweatshirt that you were in. An idea lighted up in his head as he closed the small distance between the two of you, slim fingers extending to move along the open threads of red on the neckline of your sweatshirt. He made a mental note to spoil you rotten and take you shopping.

“Be a good girl and change for me. I'm taking you shopping, you need a new wardrobe.”

You didn't take offense to his words. Knowing his taste was beyond something you could ever afford in this lifestyle. You nodded your head and turned around, moving over to your small closet.

You found a short, pink thigh length dress with ruffles at its end. It was your best dress, something you could wear around Aemond as he was filthy rich and not someone of your stature. You quickly cleaned yourself up, sprayed some perfume and left the bathroom, standing in front of him now.

Aemond noticed the light makeup you'd worn and he smiled. Cheeks a shade of beetroot and lashes curled to the top, he stood up from the edge of your bed where he'd taken a seat and walked over to you.

“You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks redden more and a smile crossed your lips. “Thank you.”

Aemond reached forward, fingers managing to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and the close proximity riled you up. It was weird, this dynamic. How he'd gone from barely paying attention to you to this, willing to pay and provide, look after all your needs as long as you held your end of the bargain.

You were excited, as you grabbed your white purse and tossed it across your shoulder.

“I have one more thing to ask.”

You stalled, look up at him with confusion implanted all over your face. Eyebrows arched and Aemond stepped closer, shrinking the dance between you two. His breath mingled with yours when he leaned down — lips hovering above yours. Abruptly you felt a wave of tension and goosebumps hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Kiss.”

Your lips twitched. “Huh?”

Aemond smiled. “A kiss to seal the deal, my pretty girl. Can you do that for me?”

You knew you'd have to bring more than a kiss to the table and the idea didn't vex you, so you got on your tippy toes — the massive height difference working to arouse you even more. You could barely reach his shoulder and you moved your hands over his chest, palms laid on it for support as your lips met his in a soft kiss.

Your intention was to give him a gentle peck, wanting to not rush things.

But his lips were so fucking soft. The softest pair you'd ever felt against your own and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head as the hands over his chest slithered over to circle around his nape.

Aemond’s own eye fluttered shut as his muscular arms reached for your waist, holding you in place.

You slowly pulled back as the kiss was getting heated and looked up at him, like an innocent deer.

“Was that okay?”

Aemond was fucking gone.

Pupils blown out, lips parted as he gazed down at you. Just one kiss has drove him to the brink of insanity and with the way you looked at him, he could imagine you looking up at him from the floor on your knees, plump glossy lips wrapped around his cock. The image made him inhale, his nose burying in your hair to implant your scent into his mind.

“Perfect.”

That was all he said as he turned around on his loafers and began to make his way out of your room. You followed, your little purse in your hand as you tried to keep up with his pace. He was tall and his body was made up of mostly his slender legs. Aemond was a beautiful man and even his walk was powerful enough to let everyone know of his arrival.

In the elevator, the two of you stood in awkward silence — your mind completely glossing over the fact that you barely knew much about your roommate. Only that he possessed a trust fund, had billions of dollars at his fingers and was quiet and liked to keep to himself.

And that he was also very intelligent when it came to achieving higher studies.

“You can ask for anything.” Aemond suddenly broke the silence. “Doesn't only have to be clothes. Just put your finger on it and it'll be yours.”

Heated infiltrated your cheeks as you nodded coyly. “Thank you.”

“I'm doing this to prove that I will be holding my end of the deal and I'm serious about this arrangement. I hope it is mutual.” Aemond said as he scrolled through his phone.

You smiled at him, raising your head to look up at him. “Yes, of course. I'm also serious and here, I will share my live location with you right now.”

You opened your purse and pulled out your phone, scrolling through it here and there. You had Aemond’s number since you two were roommates, in the same campus and classes. Turning your location on and sending it to him, you glanced at his phone as it lit up, indicating that your location was shared with him.

“Good girl.” Aemond smiled, albeit subtle while raising his hand to place it upon your head, patting it. “Never turn it off, am I understood?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

The elevator soon opened and he stepped out with you pursuing him. The parking lot was empty and as Aemond walked, he rummaged through his pocket for a key and pulled it out, unlocking it. A black maserati was unlocked and you swallowed. It was the same car he often attended the university in.

Your breath was caught up in your throat because of how expensive it was. Aemond of course took note of your delightful expression and a subtle smile displayed on his face.

It was obvious that you had a liking for sparkling expensive items.

He reached the car and opened the door for you. Obviously as someone who had no experiences with men, you were more than charmed. You settled inside and he shut the door, before sitting in the car too.

“Have you finished all your assignments?”

Aemond questioned while he took the car in reverse, taking it out of the parking. You nodded at him, though you were more occupied by the opulence surrounding you at the moment. Beautiful and comfortable black leather seats — the padding beneath your butt providing you with comfort. Your eyes wandered everywhere and Aemond tilted his head as he stole small glances from you.

“So you're free now?”

“Hm, I usually finish up all my assignments first and then get to camning. Education is foremost and important.”

He was impressed by how seriously you took your grades and your education. He often watched you in class while you'd write down notes, listening intently to the teacher and scowling whenever someone would interrupt your perpetual intake of knowledge. He found it endearing.

“Can I ask you something?”

Aemond looked at you before nodding his head, his knuckles closed around the wheel of the car as he entered the street.

You swallowed. “You're handsome, rich and you mostly mind your own business. You could have any girl on the campus then why did you offer me this sort of lifestyle?”

Aemond knew it was coming.

He had a pretty valid answer for it too. He had a smug smile on his face after you'd mentioned you found him handsome. Despite the massive scar on his face concealed beneath an eye patch, people found him beautiful enough to be a model.

“Like you said, I'm controlling.” Aemond responded. “Girls don't like that and I understand why they don't, hence I decided to propose this deal. You profit off me, I get what I want which is control.”

You tilted your head, fingers nervously playing with the ruffles of your dress.

“You're basically giving me consent to have control over you. It's comfortable for both parties, no?”

He wasn't wrong the more you thought about it. He'd left it to you, it was up to you whether you were going to hand him the control over you or not and you had, considering how rich he was. How much he could provide. You didn't see anything wrong with it as weird as it might appear to outsiders.

“I suppose you're right.”

You smiled softly and Aemond glanced at you before his eye dropped lower, his jaw clenching at your exposed thighs. The image of you sprawled out with your fingers driving endlessly into your dampened cunt flashed into his mind and he inhaled — bringing his focus to driving.

The car ride was short as the malls were quite near.

Aemond parked his car and then got out, pulling open the door for you. You thanked him and the two of you were on your way inside the shopping mall.

It was definitely one where they sold the most luxurious items. Bright lights greeted you, beautiful stores and mannequins wearing the most eye catching pieces of clothing. Your throat went dry as he lead you.

“Pick.”

You turned to him, confused. “Pick?”

“Pick a store, whichever you want to go to.”

You nodded your head and then pointed towards the dior one. You'd always wanted to buy those famous lipglosses plastered all over social media and now you could as Aemond lead you there. You were like a cat, tied to a leash that he controlled.

Upon entering the store, the staff approached you and Aemond leaned down to say something in your ear.

“I'll be over there on the couch. Once you're done, come to me.”

With that he left, abandoning you but you didn't mind. You couldn't expect him to follow you around as you looked at different items. You asked the lady about the famous lip gloss and she smiled, leading you to the table. Then she brought out the fresh piece and you immediately fell in love with how beautifully packaged it was.

While you shopped, Aemond sipped champagne. Watching you with the gaze of a hawk — following you around the store as you picked out other items. Different dresses, some bags and makeup. He didn't mind. He had unlimited cash, never ending. His bank accounts were filled to the brim when it came to money as their business ran wild.

He had enough to provide for his next generation and then the one which followed after.

He wanted you to buy what you desired first.

That would cause you to become malleable, moldable. To his own cause and needs. He could easily shove you into a small, revealing dress for him only to rip it and fuck you in it.

The idea wasn't half bad.

His eye followed your legs, walking the store, long and slim. He sipped the liquid, feeling lightheaded almost at the thought of those legs being wrapped around his waist, or perched up on his shoulders as he thrusted his cock into your sweet little cunt.

You were his now.

The perfect little pet.

You came back to him with a wide smile, the nervousness gone from your face. Your features relaxed. “I'm done, Aemond.”

“Let us pay then.” He said, placing the glass down on the table next to the pale couch and standing up.

After sauntering over to the counter, he passed his hard over to the cashier. He didn't even care to look at the recipient, his attention focused more on you. The way you were smiling brightly, cheeks round and happiness oozed from you.

“Thank you.” The cashier smiled, handing Aemond the card while your items were packaged. You picked them up, not wanting to burden him as he carried on with the shipping spree, walking out after tucking his card in his back pocket.

Your small feet could barely keep up with him as he made his way over to another store — named Chanel. Despite coming from a poor background, you were well aware of these brands and how much a simple dress could cost.

“Your size.”

He questioned, looking down at you.

You gulped and told him your size. He only nodded as he was again approached by the staff of this store. They were usually very polite and sweet, more than willing to help out with anything. This time Aemond picked out dresses for you, some black while others in complete contrast.

It was a long, long spree and by the end of it, you were tired and you couldn't carry anymore bad anymore. Aemond had bought you everything that remotely looked beautiful on you, your arms drowning in bags and his too.

“Aemond, I need a new laptop.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and nodded, taking a turn. You followed behind like his personal pet as he stopped at a store. The boy, despite being around the same age as you, was massively taller than you. It hurt your legs to keep up with him.

As he got the laptop packaged, he turned to you and patted your head. “Do you need anything else?”

You pondered. You really did but you had almost everything in the palm of your hand for now. “I—I don't think I do. I'm very hungry though.”

“I'll take you to a restaurant.” Aemond said as he took the bag from the cashier, also his credit card, once again not sparing the recipient a glance. It was futile to him, as all his life he had never bothered to check the tag on something as small as clothes and daily use items.

You shook your head. “Can we eat here, in one of the food courts? I'm craving pizza.”

He stared down at you and then reluctantly nodded. He could do that much for you as much as he found it gross eating in food courts. He was willing to do that for you, as long as you stayed by his side. Aemond was not in love, nor was he obsessed.

But you'd caught his eye.

With your coy personality, how you kept to yourself and turned down people in the university.You were like him in ways and your beauty played a big part in your allure.

He nodded his head and you smiled, clapping your hands but not loudly enough to grasp everyone's attention. Without thinking twice, your arm wrapped around his as you pulled him along to a nearby food court. There were multiple small fast food restaurants.

Aemond stared down at the way you wrapped your arm around his — your plush breasts caressing the side of his arm, as you walked. He looked away and cleared his throat. Aemond wished to pounce on you and take you right on the floor of the mall but he had no intentions to intimidate you, to scare you off.

This was his chance.

He was not going to ruin it.

The two of you ordered after taking a seat and once your food had arrived, you digged in. The taste melting right at your tongue and you wriggled on your chair, a habit which had pursed you from childhood into adulthood. You often did that — a little dance, whenever you were eating something delicious.

Pizza was delicious.

“Are you happy?” Aemond asked, tilting his head as he stared at you.

You nodded. You were more than happy, you were ecstatic. This was like a dream, something beyond the realm of your subconscious mind. Only fulfilled within the abstract form of your mind.

“I'm more than happy.” You sent him a wide smile, your cheeks rounding up and eyes disappearing.

He couldn't understand why you were this happy because all of this, he owned. He was the rightful owner yet he never felt the same level of happiness that you were showcasing right now. He had all the money in the world, unnecessary amount of wealth left by his ancestors but he felt empty, like a tin can. Shallow and an abyss had formed within his rotten core.

It rendered him flummoxed often.

He watched you eat your meal. You were like a little girl in a candy shop, or a child lost in a toy shop. Happiness suited you. It made you appear ethereal and his mind wandered off to other sinful thoughts. It was painfully embarrassing how he kept thinking of ruining you, fucking you in one of the many lingerie pieces he'd bought you.

You were finished soon and he barely had an appetite. Aemond and you were back in his car, driving towards the apartment. This time his hand landed on your thigh, fingers curving around it, holding it. Thumb swiping across the soft supple flesh, his jaw clenched.

You felt butterflies nip at your stomach as heat pooled in your lower abdomen. Even though you did not know much about Aemond other than what you'd gathered from people on campus and little details by living with him, you found him attractive nonetheless. His beauty was unlike you had ever seen before.

Enchanting. Captivating. Alluring.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

Aemond’s hand moved up now, while he drove and stared ahead. You wondered if it was on purpose or if he was too lost in driving to even be conscious of his own actions? The question was left unanswered as the side of his fingers caressed along your clothed cunt.

You flinched at the touch.

But you didn't complain, nor did you stop him.

Instead, the fluttering need in your stomach made you part your thighs open a little, giving him more access.

His fingers kept brushing along your clothed slit, running it along your clit. Your breath grew uneven as he completely pushed his hand between your thighs. Aemond’s fingers pressed onto your swollen clit, which demanding attention, through the fabric of your cotton panties. He found it endearing how despite being a cam girl — you had a pair of cotton panties on.

Then he retrieved his hand, leaving you aching and squirming on the seat.

It was already evening now, the sun had begun to set and darkness was soon going to lay above the city.

Aemond turned the car somewhere, you had no idea where. Then it came to a halt, as he pulled the brakes and the sound of the unlocked doors caught your attention. His jaw was clenched and his face was impassive. It did intimidate you, even if just a little bit.

“Get in the back.”

That was all he said, before stepping out and getting back in the car. You did the same and now there was nothing separating you from him. The lever was not in between you two and your heart pounded like wild horses galloping against your ribcage.It was quiet.

You wanted to speak, but the moment you raised your head up to do it, Aemond’s hand slithered across your nape as he slammed his lips over yours. It left you with heightened desires and desperate needs. Your thighs pushed, creating friction for some sort of relief as his grip tightened on your nape. He pushed you again the door — the force of it making you wince as your back collided with the handle.

Aemond moved his lips over yours like an animal, not permitting you to breathe or even take the lead.

Is this what he meant by being controlling? Because right in that very moment, it seemed as though Aemond Targaryen would swallow you whole without letting you possess an ounce of control over him, over the actions being done between you two. His free hand slammed on the window as he trapped you completely, while devouring your lips.

Sucking and biting with utter need.

Your small hands shifted to push at his chest but to no avail. Like a strong tornado which only knew how to consume and devour, Aemond’s mind knew only of that goal. To consume and devour you.

His teeth sunk into your lower lip, nipping and you whined. Your little sounds filling up the car, causing his cock to stir awake in his leather pants. He was over the edge already, all he needed was a little push.

His hands moved to the edge of your dress, bunching up the ruffles between his fingers and pushing them up. You couldn't stop him even if you wanted to — he was strong and he was not going to stop. His actions were enough as a testament that Aemond was fucking needy.

Feeling the cold air from the conditioning in the car trickle against the sensitive skin of your thighs, you whined at the sensation of being devoured and ravaged while the heat in your abdomen warred with the chilling air.

“Aemond—”

He occupied your lips in a kiss again, slithering his greedy tongue inside your mouth and fucking it.

All while his hands found a path inside your thighs, inching deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed along your soaked panties, feeling how your cunt throbbed. A guttural groan escaped him at the feeling and he didn't waste time sliding your cotton panties aside, leaving light touches over your drenched cunt.

“Gods,” Aemond murmured against your swollen lips, “you're soaking wet.”

A satisfaction seeped into the confinement of his chest as he angled the bad of his thumb over your pearl, moving it in soft slow circles earning a breathy gasp out of you. It sent chills straight down to his loins, his leather slacks tightening and he felt suffocated in his clothes.

All because of how pretty you sounded.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aemond questioned like he was speaking to a child and you looked up at him, doe-eyed expression, eyes exploding with wanton and desire as you nodded.

He lowered his face to the side of your face, going lower and lower until he was buried in your neck. Aemond inhaled, the sickeningly sweet scent overwhelming his senses as the circles he rubbed over your clit grew hastier, needier.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, Aemond noticed how your hips squirmed on the seat, moving side to side and he grinned at that. He ran a long digit up your soaked slit, accumulating the essence of your sticky arousal and then probing at your slick hole. It wasn't long before he had slid his finger in and your small hand moved to grab his shoulder.

Eyes rolled back, you cried out a wail and tightened around him. Being a cam girl, he'd expected you to be used to this but the faces you made, the sounds you let out, it was as if you were experiencing all of this for the first time ever.

Like a little virgin.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered along your neck before baring his teeth and sinking them in your skin. “all mine, my pretty girl.”

It was lost on you in that moment that Aemond Targaryen was staking his claim on you, possessing you.

You had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into but in this moment you could only focus on his finger moving inside your sweet cunt, his thumb drawing tender circles on your pulsating clit and his soft lips leaving bite marks and kisses along your skin.

Soon he added another finger, using both, curving them in an endless search for that sweet spot concealed within you. Soon, he found it when he thrusted up and your back arched, hand fisting the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder and head pressed against the windows of his car.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

“I can imagine the faces you'd make with my cock inside you, deep within your puffy cunt, thrusting inside.” He whispered and you hadn't expected him to be this vocal, especially when he was such a quiet person in general.

Always minding his own business, keeping to himself and not even engaging in any conversations besides the ones that are necessary.

“You'd like that, pretty girl?” Aemond questioned in a low, sultry voice. “Like my cock pounding into your pussy?”

You responded by clenching around his fingers, snuggly clasped around the pair and he chuckled in his ear. Low and deep. You really were a needy, greedy little thing and he felt his ego inflate even more at the thought of having you like this. “Something tells me you'd love it.”

Tears prickled your waterline as he thrusted his fingers deep inside you, knuckles pressing against your quivering flesh as he continued his biting. Your right leg was sprawled over his thigh as loud, prominent whimpers and moans flew out of your mouth. You were a loud one, a vocal thing but he didn't mind.

He enjoyed it.

Relished the sounds you made. All because of him. He kept plunging his digits inside you, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure and a layer of perspiration had sheened over your forehead. The heat in your body, warmth flooding through your veins winning in the battle against the air conditioning of the car.

The coil inside your stomach was near to snapping, your thighs suffering from tremors as your walls snugged his fingers. Tight to the point he felt the warmth from his fingers shoot straight to his loins. Painfully hard he was but right now, it was all about you.

After all he needed you malleable.

“Aemond, please. I.. I'm gonna..” You cried out, hips writhing on the leather seat and he curved his fingers deeper. “Let go, pretty girl. Make a mess on my fingers, show me how pretty you look when you come.”

That was all you needed. All the encouragement as you arched your nape and gasped out. Eyes rolling to greet the darkness behind lowered lids, the coil within your stomach snapped and you ascended heaven in a way foreign to you. Thighs convulsing and hips twitching, tears streamed down your face as you sobbed from the pleasure.

Gods, you were absolutely sensitive and beautiful. Perfection and Aemond knew he'd made the right choice.

All you saw was white, for a fleeting moment when you gushed out. Making an absolute mess over his expensive leather seats and fisting the fabric of his polo shirt to the point of pale knuckles.

Aemond was in awe.

How beautiful you seemed, crying and in complete bliss. In that moment he contemplated taking you right there, in that damn car. But that one little mistake, one tiny slip up of unbridled desires would become the bane of this entire situation and he did not want that. Circumspect to actually push more, so he took you in his arms and pressed your face in his chest.

“You're fine,” he whispered, softly as your flushed cheeks throbbed from the heat and embarrassment. Gaze flickering down to leather black seats glistening from your climax. “you did well, pretty girl. You were amazing.”

Hearing praise from someone could mean so much and your heart fluttered as your own arms moved to wrap around his nape. Buried in his chest, it was a good feeling. Being taken care of like this, it surely helped you feel much better about this whole predicament.

“I'm sorry about your car.” You whispered and Aemond shook his head.

The car didn't matter, the fine leather didn't matter when he could watch you unravel like this each and everytime. “Don't worry about it, it's nothing.”

You'd calmed down now and thoughts lingered. This situation wasn't as bad as you'd expected it to turn out and it made you relax a little, nerves put to sleep.

A month had passed.

Life had changed drastically for you. Camming was long forgotten as Aemond provided you with everything. From a something as minor as a toothbrush to a luxurious car. He had given you everything, anything that you ever even laid your gaze on and you truly felt like a princess.

That was until you decided to go out with your friends to a club.

It was packed. Loud music and flashing lights expanding over the area outside, a sinful invitation for the people passing by on the streets.

You were dragged along by your friends and giggles erupted from your mouth as the entrance to the club was packed but nonetheless, you were allowed in. It was the same club which you had visited multiple times with Aemond in the past one month and the bouncers immediately recognized you, giving you permission.

Using Aemond’s power to go into VIP clubs was thrilling. It was what you got in return for being his little plaything.

The music was boosting, its bass loud enough to shake the club dance floor. You were pulled to the bar and your two girl friends ordered some drinks. Each ordering a shot of tequila with lemon and salt. They had begged you to come to the club with them and had even encouraged you to turn off your location.

A big mistake.

But the idea of a fun night out without a care in the world was too enticing for you to not act upon it.

The club was crowded, people going crazy on the dance floor, some couples even making out in the corner and you grinned, brain showing you images of the time when you had ridden Aemond’s cock in the corner of the club on a couch. It was euphoric and the memory brought heat to your cheeks.

“Drink up!” You heard a friend scream over the music and the three of you drowned your shots.

That carried on until you three had consumed about four shots. You swayed over to the dance floor, the music picking up and your friends followed. Dancing your heart out, you turned down every boy that dared to approach you, telling them how you were already in a relationship.

A relationship that was not normal.

Your phone in your purse buzzed and buzzed, set to vibration, with text messages from Aemond and missed calls. All which you ignored in the pursuit of a fun night out.

Meanwhile Aemond was holding his device in his, gripping it with such exertion, it could break in his hands. He was at a dinner with his parents, carrying on conversations about his university life but when he decided to check your location and found it turned off, an irritation set ablaze. The cherry on top were you not picking up his calls, nor responding to his texts like he didn't exist.

It angered him.

You'd broken that one rule he had strictly prohibited you from breaking.

“Excuse me. I've got some business to attend to,” he stood up from the chair abruptly and nodded to his parents, before leaving the table. He'd hopped in his car with a clenched jaw and a hard glare, his knuckles releasing all his anger and frustration on the damn steering wheel.

“Pick up, fucking pick up.” He muttered, dialing your number again but to no avail. Aemond was disappointed. He was seething and he had absolutely no fucking idea about your whereabouts or if you were even safe.

You'd never done that before.

As he was about to tap on your number again, his eye narrowed at the number which flashed before in his gaze. Picking it up, she brought it to his ear.

“What.”

“Your girlfriend is here. With her friends, I thought you should know.” It was the manager of the club, someone that Aemond knew very well.

With poorly contained rage, he responded back. “Keep an eye on her, I'll be there.”

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and picked up, foot pressing against the accelerator. It wasn't long before he had parked right outside the club and maneuvered his way through the large crowd of people. Lips in a tight line, his one good eye ran over the people dancing.

And there you were.

With anticipation drumming in his chest, he found you with your arms in air as you swayed your hips left and right. A big smile stretched over your face, without a damn worry in the world.

He scoffed and walked over to you, his hand reaching out to circle around your frail wrist. Aemond pulled you to him and a gasp left your lips when your eyes met his and a chill ran down your spine. He looked angry, the expression was never seen before on his face but it was there.

Usually he was very sweet, very gentle, and he fucked good too.

But right now you could feel the heat emanating from him.

“While I’m worried sick, having no fucking idea about your whereabouts, you're having the time of your fucking life.” Aemond snapped at you and his harsh tone knocked the air out of your lungs.

But that wasn't enough.

He dragged you out of the club, not caring about the amount of people he crashed into, his only goal being dragging your ass back to your shared apartment and reprimanding you. Reminding you who owned you, who you belonged to, who fucking looked after you.

Your attempts to free your wrist out of his grip were proven useless as he pushed you into the car, watching how your body collided against the plush seats. Then he moved over and slid into the driver’s seat. A scowl was evident on his face as his speed went above hundred, reaching the apartments soon.

It scared you how quiet he was being.

You could not dare to speak up, to apologize to him because he was furious. All you could do was sit there, with trembling hands and a stomach churning with anticipation. Forehead covered in a thin layer of perspiration and lips twitching, you two made it out of the car.

His hand was clasped once again around your wrist, dragging you up to the apartment.

The moment he reached the door, he opened it and pushed you inside with a scoff. His face devoid of any emotion other than anger and you felt your heart thud like a galloping horse in your chest. Aemond was like a deadly viper, waiting to envelope you.

“What did I say about the location?”

You knew he wanted you to say it, but your throat had dried. Your lips glued together and Aemond reached forward, closing the distance between you two, fingers dimpling into your cheeks to elevate your chin up. Grip harsh and searing.

“What. Did. I. Fucking. Say?”

You flinched. “Never.. Never turn it off.”

He nodded. “And what did you fucking do?”

“I turned it off.” You whispered, feeling the weight of what you've done heave down on you. The fear spread across your face was such a enticing sight for him and it only burgeoned the strength he applied to your chin.

You whimpered in response.

His pupils were dilated, blown fully and his pale skin was dusted red from all the anger and frustration pent up inside him. You panted, breathing ragged and broken as you tried to soothe him. “I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, my friends, they told me it wouldn't matter—”

“Your friends fucking told you to turn off your location and you listened to them?” Aemond lowly questioned, his next words were even more condescending making you feel like you actually were stupid. “Are you that dumb?”

You felt tears brim your eyes and you sniffled, feeling like you had disappointed him. Like you'd ruined the perfect relationship which had stirred between the two of you and the sight of you so fragile, on the brink of falling apart only made his longing for you grow even more. “Who pays for your little designer bags, huh? I recall it is my credit card that you swipe whenever a new dior bag catches your eye, not your fucking friends.”

Aemond released your chin and you almost felt relief wash over you, only he used the same hand to grab you by your nape, dragging you along.

Your feet could barely keep up in the tall heels you were as he carelessly pulled you along up the stairs.

“You need a good throat fucking. That'll fix you right up.” Aemond said through gritted teeth, pulling you over the stairs.

Reaching your shared room, he pushed inside it and took a seat on the bed. His actions rough and condescending as he shoved you down on your knees. It hurt from how harshly he was man handling you but you felt as though you deserved it for breaking a rule.

“I'm sorry—”

Your head whipped to the side from the sheer force of his hand colliding against your right cheek. A burning sensation blossoming paired with scarlet and your eyes widened at him. It had left you speechless and Aemond’s hand drowned in your locks, tugging on them at the base causing you to arch your nape and look up at him.

“If you used your mouth for something else other than sucking my cock, I'll make sure you never see the light again.” He threatened, with a glare. “Understood?”

You were not one to take his threats lightly and you nodded, with a soft sob escaping your lips. The sight of you so unraveled and disheveled, even though he had not done anything as of yet made his heart clench and his resolve almost crumbled apart.

Only his anger possessiveness won.

His eye dropped down to the prominent bulge in his pants and you didn't need any more clear instructions than that to do what he wanted. Trembling fingers worked their way around his pants as you dragged his zipper down. In a few seconds, you had unveiled his cock and pulled it out. It didn't curve or hit his abdomen, the heavy weight of it holding it down. With his cock, came equally heavy balls and a shudder ran through you at the sight.

Closing your fist around his cock, you earned a growl from him.

“Suck.” He commanded and you were more than quick to oblige, leaning in and closing your glossy lips around his cock.

Taking him deeper and deeper, sliding with your tongue laid flat against his underside, feeling a vein there throb with obvious wanton. You dived in more, the tip of your nose coming in contact with his neatly trimmed hair emerging from his groin. Tears spilled when his swollen cockhead breached your throat, fully nestling in there.

Aemond groaned, his hips bucking up with need. “Hold still, don't fucking move.”

You tried, attempted to stay still but when he moved his hand down to pinch your nose, destroying any chance of you receiving oxygen, you started trashing. Aemond didn't care, relishing how you broke and teared up more, face turning pale.

“This is exactly how I felt when your stupid fucking location was off, princess. How worried I got, how I couldn't fucking breathe.” Aemond reprimanded and all you could do was look at him with tearful, pleading eyes, begging to be let go.

You trashed here and there, hands moving to his thigh, nails digging into his skin through his dress pants but that was nothing in front of the anger which had erupted like a damn volcano from him. Your desperation to free yourself was least bothersome to him as he tightened his fingers around your nose.

Saliva sputtered around your mouth as you sobbed, endlessly trying to free yourself and then Aemond finally released you. Both his hands moving back to rest on the mattress, he watched you inhale long chains of oxygen, watching you fall back on your ass and claw at your throat.

“Back to sucking, whore.” Aemond snapped his fingers.

You looked up at him through a teary gaze and nodded, getting back on your knees and wrapping your mouth around him, engulfing him. He groaned at the return of your warmth and bucked his hips up, fucking your throat with abandon. It wasn't lost before he spurted his hot white cum inside your throat, straight shooting down. You fluttered your lids shut and swallowed all around his mouth, not leaving a drop.

Aemond didn't even have to order you to swallow, knowing you were generally obedient.

His large hand moved from the bed, laying on top of your head as he collected your hair in a fist, pulling you up. Pain shot through your scalp and you stiffened, looking up at him as he brought you up. “You disappointed me, greatly. I've given you everything, made you a fucking princess overnight and you couldn't keep one rule?”

You sniffled, like a child, tears streaming down your flushed scarlet cheeks. “I—I’m sorry, didn't mean to.. I-I swear.”

Aemond pulled you up towards the bed, standing up and tossing you over the mattress. His softened cock regained its stamina, hardening again, swaying side to side and your eyes widened. Grabbing you by your ankle, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed and then brought his boot up, pressing it against your ankle. Hard enough to make you feel pain but gentle enough to not break your ankle.

“I could have anyone, anyone in this entire city.” He said, narrowed gaze focused. “But I chose you. You should be worshipping me, licking my fucking boots.”

You sniffled, as he pushed apart your thighs and ripped at the pathetic excuse you wore for panties. The fabric was flimsy and he tossed the tattered pieces aside. Aemond spread apart your pink glistening folds with his thumbs, revealing your little wet hole and your clit hidden beneath its hood. He loved eating you out, making you cum over and over again with his tongue.

But not now, you didn't deserve to have his tongue in your cunt after what you'd done.

So he aligned his cock with your hole, and watched as his swollen head breached your hole. Your cunt immediately squeezed around him with wanton, desperation and excitement causing him to chuckle. “God, you're so desperate. Even after I humiliated you, your little cunt clings on to me with such need.”

You look up at him, baffled by his humiliation as this was a side you never thought existed to someone like him. You'd always assumed him to be a kind introvert who somehow found you pretty and decided to provide.

This was different.

It terrified you as he glared down at you, eyebrows furrowed and pupil dilated. Due to the perspiration, his silver hair clung to his forehead and you swallowed.

In one single hit, Aemond nestled his cock deep inside your cunt and buried himself to the hilt. Your saliva around his cock had lubed it enough for him to be able to glide easily within your suffocating walls. “Fuck, I love this tight little cunt.” He growled, holding your thighs apart, a tight bruising grip leading you to cry out.

Tears spilled as you felt your pussy struggle to accommodate to his size. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked you but everytime he did, you felt like you were being split open by his thick hot cock. It felt good but also hurt and you arched your back, bucking your hips up.

Aemond slammed your hips down, taking you into a mating press position causing you to wail out as he drove deeper. Legs over his shoulders almost, his chest fully pressed against yours, his cock reaching your womb with his position. “Please, please—”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Aemond snapped, smacking you across the cheek as he began to thrust.

His cock slammed in and out of you, leaving you crying and sobbing. Your tits bouncing with each thrust, leaving you completely feeling like some porn star. He'd never taken you like this, with such humiliation and you tried to bury your face in his chest.

Aemond growled, enjoying each and every moment of your sopping wet heat engulfed around him, clamping down hungrily. His hand flew to your stomach, being able to feel his cock bulge against it and the fact that he was so deep inside you lead his balls to draw up tight. Hot and throbbing.

As his curved tip hit your sweet spot, your back arched and you cried out. “Right there, please right there!”

Aemond chuckled, darkly as he began to hit that same spot over and over again. The coil in your stomach which tethered on the edge of snapping finally did snap, falling off and your cunt squeezed him in. Gushing everywhere, making a mess and spraying him wet in your liquids. It didn't matter to him as he continued pounding into you, the headboard of the bed creaking violently from the sheer force of his hard thrusts.

“Stop, I-I can't.” You sobbed, saliva mixing in with tears rolling down your chin.

Aemond’s hand moved to your throat, wrapping around it. He pushed forward and choked you, tightening it to the point your eyes rolled back to your head. His cock pulsated within your velvety soaked walls and you grew sensitive around him, hips twitching and writhing. Thighs convulsing and body completely spent.

“Tell me I own you,” Aemond’s grip tightened, cutting off your air supply. “Tell me before I choke you unconscious.”

Your eyes opened and you looked at him, blinking away the tears. “You—You own me, own me, Aemond.” Your words were slightly coherent but satisfying enough for him.

You'd expected him to let go but the man squeezed harder, applying pressure on your throat and right when you saw random objects in your peripheral vision, he released you and pulled his cock out of you with a wet, suckling pop.

You'd assumed he was done.

But a tight slap to your swollen cunt awakened you, a wave of electricity jolting through you.

“Ride my cock,” Aemond said, already laying against the headboard. With a sniffle and more tears spilling, you crawled over to him weakly with a twitching pussy and straddled him.

Aemond had one hand behind his head while he watched you, struggling to align his slippery cock with your hole but soon, you succeeded. As you sunk down, your back arched and head turned back, hips meeting his thighs. His cock was thick but it was more longer than it was thick, stuffing you so nicely.

Your toes were pushed on the mattress as you began to ride him, bouncing up and down like some sex doll made for him. Aemond watched with a hungry gaze, finding satisfaction in how humiliated you appeared in front of him. “Bounce harder, slut. I've taught you better than this.”

Your small hands moved on his chest for support, as you impaled yourself on his length, bouncing with more vigor. Your face was flushed, drenched in sweat and tears as you bounced and bounced with all your strength.

“Who's credit cards do you use for for shopping, baby?” He asked, mockingly.

Your lips were parted open, making way for needy whimpers. “Y-Yours.”

Aemond nodded and grinned at you, a sadistic grin. “Then who's cock should you be bouncing on, who's calls and texts you shouldn't ignore?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, hips meeting his in a loud slap each time you bounced. His hands found your waist, lifting you up with great ease and holding you in the air as he began to thrust upwards, pummeling his cock into your slick heat.

The room was filled with the obscene wet sounds of your squelching pussy, each time he thrusted upwards. Your thighs shuddered, hips twitching, blood pumping fiercely and heart pounding.

Another orgasm was near, another need to burst open.

“Please, gonna cum, gonna cum again.” Your nails dug into his chest, the second impending climax much more powerful and overwhelming than the first one.

Aemond grabbed your hair, pulling it and baring your neck to him. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into you, biting you down like some beast as his cock continued its violent abuse. You tightened around him, squeezing him in and then you came once more, making a mess everywhere. Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you couldn't take anymore.

Eyes rolling back to your head, nails leaving crescent moons on his chest, you emptied out over his thighs. “Too much, too much! Please stop, don't wanna!”

But Aemond didn't listen. His own balls throbbed and the delicious squeeze of your hot pussy made him hiss. Teeth nibbling on your skin, he spilled his seed into you, rope after rope filling your womb up. “Yeah, take it. Take it, slut. Take my fucking cum and suck it in your tight little womb.” Shooting again and again until he too was spent and drained. You both collapsed on the bed, your face meeting his chest.

For a moment only the sounds of your low whines and his ragged breathing could be heard in the room. Your body throbbed in pain from how brutally he'd taken you but at least now you'd find peace, be allowed to fall asleep.

Too bad.

“I'm not done with you, pretty girl.” Aemond whispered in your ear and after a couple of minutes, you felt his cock harden again.

Just how much stamina did he physically possess?

2K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 7 months ago

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 1

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Series Masterlist | Part 2

Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.

Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.

If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.

Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.

And you lived alone.

“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.

The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.

In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.

You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.

Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.

He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.

“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.

Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.

A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.

What was he going to do to you?

You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.

“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”

Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?

The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”

You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.

A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”

You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”

Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”

“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.

The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.

For Addison’s bachelorette party.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”

He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”

You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.

“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”

You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.

Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”

“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.

“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”

You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.

“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.

“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.

“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”

The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”

“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”

“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”

You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.

Right?

Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”

Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”

“Shots!”

Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.

“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.

So what was the matter?

“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”

“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”

He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?

“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”

A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”

Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”

“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”

How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”

“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?

The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …

“And if I say no?”

Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”

Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”

A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”

“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.

Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.

But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.

He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”

He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”

Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”

You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”

His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.

“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”

It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?

You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”

Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.

You weren't safe.

With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.

And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.

Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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nemesyaaa · 5 months ago

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buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

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witchywithwhiskey · 4 months ago

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🔪 Slasher 🔪 Choose Your Own Ending

pairing: DARK horror movie villain!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasies—you're gonna fuck the villain, bucky barnes.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), dark themes and elements, typical horror movie violence (blood, murder, some gruesome descriptions), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, unsafe sadist/masochist dynamic (reader is into it but there are no safe words), dry humping, knife kink, size kink, chase kink, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, rough body play, light spanking, choking, breath play, bratting/brat taming (reader is slightly unhinged), dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, boot riding, dacryphilia, pet names (cottontail, baby), reader passes out during sex, possessive behavior

word count: 13.3k total (11.6k with only the dark ending; 11.9k with only the fluffy ending)

a/n: i really didn't know if i'd be able to finish this fic in time for the end of my Slasher Summer challenge because it's probably one of the most ambitious fics i've ever attempted. it's loosely inspired by the movie The Final Girls (highly recommend) but i couldn't decide how i wanted it to end, so y'all get TWO ENDINGS!! both are included here, with additional warnings down below. i worked really hard on this, so i really hope y'all enjoy!!! 😅

The last thing you remembered was the feel of fuzzy static on your tongue, fizzling through your arms and legs and making you feel like every nerve ending in your body was buzzing to life. You had a vague memory of licking something you probably shouldn’t have, but then your ears popped and you felt solid ground beneath your feet.

Staticky silence was suddenly replaced by shrill screams of excitement and the mechanical whirring of carnival rides. The rich scents of funnel cakes and popcorn and cotton candy filled your nose, making your mouth water with the desire to eat your weight in fried food.

Blinking your eyes open—not remembering when you’d closed them—you were met with the entrance to the Bakersfield Fun Fair. The big banner declaring the name of the carnival sparked a hazy recognition deep in your mind, but when you looked around, you didn’t quite recognize where you were, and you had no memory of how you’d gotten there.

Still, something about the fairground, with its ticket booth and carnival rides and all kinds of stalls selling food or touting games to play for prizes, felt familiar. Like you’d seen it in a dream, or when you were a child the memory was a distant thing.

Muggy summer air brushed against your skin with a soft breeze that helped to alleviate the worst of the heat, the air holding a hint of chill as the sun set on the distant horizon. It cast everything you could see, which was mainly just the carnival and the grassy field being used for a parking lot, in a golden glow.

Finally, it occurred to you to look down at yourself, finding that you were wearing cutoff jean shorts and a plain tank top—neither of which you recognized.

The confusion you’d held at bay suddenly overwhelmed you, making you feel as dizzy as if you’d just ridden the tilt-a-whirl, which you somehow knew was nestled somewhere in the fairgrounds. Your stomach lurched as your mind tried to make sense of where you were and how you’d gotten there. You closed your eyes and tried to think.

As you concentrated, memories began to surface in your mind, like you were dragging them up from the depths of a deep, murky lake.

It wasn’t summer. It was fall, you remembered, and just moments before you’d been curled up on the worn, aged rug in your grandmother’s basement. You were housesitting for her while she was on a cruise.

You remembered closing your laptop, heaving a huge sigh of relief at finishing work for the day, then going down into the basement. You’d spent countless hours there as a teenager watching movies on the big, boxy TV set, the kind where you could feel the static if you put your hand against the screen. Your favorite movies to watch were the horror ones…

That was it!

That was why Bakersfield and the carnival seemed so familiar. Bakersfield was the small town terrorized by the ruthless villain in your favorite horror movie, Slasher, and the final act’s killing spree took place at the town’s annual end of summer carnival. The Bakersfield Fun Fair.

And the villain was Bucky Barnes, a psychotic killer with a sadistic sense of humor and piercing blue eyes.

You’d had a crush on him when you’d first watched Slasher as a teenager, and your attraction to him remained even well into your adult years. You’d decided to put the movie on because you’d been lonely at your grandmother’s, figuring a night with your favorite horror movie slasher would be the closest thing to a date you could get.

Once you remembered that, the rest of it came back to you. You’d been curled up on the rug in front of the TV, and your favorite scene had come on. It was the one where Bucky is cleaning a bullet wound in his shoulder—given to him by the movie’s mean girl, right before he brutally stabs her in the head—and he had his shirt off, showing the broad expanse of his muscled chest.

It hadn’t been your finest moment, but you were lonely and you got it into your head to lick the screen of the TV over Bucky’s bare chest. And then, that was it. That was all you remembered—and the feeling of static on your tongue.

Opening your eyes, you looked up at the banner again. You blinked. And blinked again. Then you pinched yourself. You didn’t wake up.

The sign still read Bakersfield Fun Fair. But…that was impossible.

Your jaw went slack as you looked around—really looked at your surroundings.

In the time that you’d spent figuring out where you were, the sun had dipped behind the tops of the trees in the forest beyond the fairground, turning the sky pink and orange, fading into a deep cerulean. There was a ferris wheel in the distance, and the canopy top of a carousel off to the side.

There were lines of stalls stretching in both directions beyond the entrance to the fair, some with ring toss games and others with milk bottles to be knocked over. Other stalls were selling all kinds of junk food, from cotton candy to candy apples.

Everything looked and sounded and smelled real. You could practically taste the funnel cake on your tongue, and feel the powered sugar-covered fried dough melting in your mouth. You could clearly see the faces of all the people milling around the fair, kids breaking off with hands clasped tight around their tickets as they went running down the various rows of stalls.

And the closer you looked, the more realized everything was dated. The clothes, the rides, the toy prizes. Everything looked like it was from the early 90s, when Slasher was made. Even your own clothes and the tennis shoes on your feet looked like they were out of the 90s.

It was bizarre, and yet, it didn’t feel like a dream. But it had to be a dream. Right?

Spinning around in a circle, you decided that had to be the case. It was the only thing that made sense. It’s not like you could’ve been transported into the world of your favorite horror movie. Stuff like that didn’t happen; it broke all rules of physics and other science stuff you didn’t understand.

Deciding to just roll with it and enjoy your dream, you shrugged off your confusion and headed into the Bakersfield Fun Fair. While you meandered down one of the lines of stalls, you wondered if you’d see any of the characters from the movie. You wondered if you’d see Bucky.

You almost tripped over the grass beneath your feet at the thought, your heart speeding up in your chest and beating excitedly against your rib cage as you considered the possibility of actually meeting your biggest horror movie crush.

But your mind didn’t stop there. Oh no. You were the girl who’d decided to lick an old, staticky TV because it was the closest you thought you’d ever get to licking Bucky’s bare chest.

Naturally, your mind took the thought of meeting him much further and you thought about fulfilling one of your most cherished fantasies. If you were in the world of Slasher, you wanted to fuck Bucky Barnes.

Before you’d ended up at the Bakersfield Fun Fair, in some ultra-realistic dream, the closest you could’ve gotten was finding a guy who looked like Bucky Barnes and try to convince him to wear the Slasher mask while chasing you through the woods.

But you’d found yourself in the world of your favorite horror movie—whether by way of your subconscious dreaming about it, or some breakdown of the space-time continuum—and you had the chance to fuck the actual Bucky Barnes. Giddy excitement flooded through you, and you began skipping down the line of carnival stalls, trying to remember what exactly happens in the final act of Slasher.

It probably should’ve worried you how unconcerned you were with the possibility that Bucky could kill you before you even got started trying to convince him to fuck you. But it was your dream, so what was the worst that could happen? If he killed you, you’d just wake up horny and dissatisfied, right? Then, you’d have to take care of yourself, which wasn’t any different to any other day of your life.

Nah, you were almost entirely certain you were in a dream, and because it was your dream, you wouldn’t have too much trouble getting Bucky to fuck you. You just had to find him…

As if right on cue, screams erupted from the opposite end of the fairground, and it sparked your memory. The action at the end of Slasher ramps up when Bucky storms the Bakersfield Fun Fair and the final girl, along with the remainder of her friends, try to set a trap for him.

Trying to hid your giddy grin, you raced through the fairground, heading in the direction of the screams. Since you’d remembered the beginning of the end of the movie, you couldn’t help but think about what else happens. Bucky carves through the final girl’s friends one by one in various, gruesome ways on the carnival rides at the fair. Then, the final girl eventually traps him by crushing his arm in the gears of the carousel.

Bucky doesn’t die, of course. He comes back in the sequel, Slasher II, and sports a metal arm that glimmers in the moonlight while he stalks the final girl around Bakersfield all over again. It’s not nearly as good as the first movie, but Bucky is still very hot, and you watched the sequel nearly as many times as the original when you were a teenager.

You were so distracted by thoughts of Bucky’s prosthetic arm, and what it would feel like to have his metal hand wrapped around your throat while he fucked you, that you didn’t realize you were suddenly alone in the fairground, and you’d made it to the Tunnel of Love ride.

It was then that you spotted the macabre scene of the final girl’s best friend—you couldn’t remember the character’s name, it was something boring like John—with his heart ripped out of his chest and held in his limp, dead hands. His lifeless eyes stared unseeingly ahead, looking almost like a movie prop, but so, so much more real.

This particular kill was one of Slasher’s most controversial, you remembered. Half the cult fandom argued it was too on the nose, since the movie heavily implied John was in love with the movie’s final girl and never found the courage to tell her. The other half of the fandom enjoyed the tragic romance of it.

Personally, you didn’t care much about the kills or the drama between the final girl and the other characters. You really only watched Slasher for Bucky, and only cared about the creativity of the murders when he looked particularly hot doing them.

Your mind whirled as you stared at John’s dead body, your brain focusing on the Slasher message boards you’d trawled well into your college years, rather than trying to make sense of the horrible sight in front of you. It really, really looked like real blood soaking his clothes—and you could even smell the coppery tang of it in the air.

Instinctively, you took a step back, the grass of the fairground soft beneath your feet. The sun had slipped fully behind the trees of the forest beyond the fairground, casting long, ominous shadows over the scene. Your heart beat harder in your chest, and you took another step back, as if putting room between you and the horrific sight in front of you would somehow make it easier to reconcile.

You took one more step backward and bumped into something solid, something that you knew deep in your bones shouldn’t be there.

The smell of blood was stronger suddenly, mixing with an earthy, spicy scent that didn’t make sense for the carnival fairground. Holding your breath, you slowly looked over your shoulder and were met with the sight of a black leather-clad chest.

Already, you knew it was him. But you dragged your eyes up and sucked in a gasp when you met the piercing blue gaze of Bucky Barnes.

His eyes were filled with a cold hatred that was so visceral, it made your stomach twist in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. Inexplicably, warmth bloomed low in your core, unfurling and reacting to the villain’s presence. Finally, you were face to face with your biggest horror movie crush, and you couldn’t help but take a moment to take all of him in.

Bucky Barnes was even bigger and more intimidating than he seemed on your TV screen, and he was more handsome too. His eyes were an electric blue, the color so bright, it seemed like it glowed from within. And his chin-length brown hair fell on either side of his face, highlighting the strong line of his brow and the intensity of his gaze.

The villain’s mouth and nose were covered by the hard plastic mask that matched the utilitarian leather jacket and combat pants he wore with thick, heavy boots. There were straps on the leather jacket that spanned his broad shoulders, and a utility belt around his trim waist where he secured the various knives and weapons he used throughout the movie.

Looking up at his face again, you realized Bucky was so much taller than you expected, standing behind you like a mountain of cold hatred, radiating danger and menace. Unfortunately for you, that only made the heat simmering in your belly burn hotter until you were squeezing your thighs together against the ache building there.

You knew your body’s reaction to the psychotic murderer was foolish, to say the least, but there was something about the dangerous man that made your heart beat harder, and made you want to spread your legs for him.

Glancing down to Bucky’s hand, you saw the big butcher’s knife dangling from his fingers. He hadn’t raised it yet, and when you looked back into his eyes, the villain seemed to be watching you closely, as if wondering how you were going to react to him.

The longer you went without screaming or running away from him, the more his brows lowered over his eyes. He began to look perplexed.

That was fine, you could work with perplexed.

Carefully, as if dealing with an animal you didn’t want to spook, you turned around and set your hands gently on Bucky’s massive chest, your fingertips toying idly with the leather straps on his jacket. Holding his gaze with your own, you slid your hands up to his shoulders and pushed yourself up onto you tiptoes so you could twine your arms around his neck, as if he were your boyfriend and you were welcoming him home.

“Hi,” you murmured, your voice coming out breathy as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You fluttered your lashes at Bucky, figuring that if you didn’t treat him like a threat, he wouldn’t be. And so far, it was working.

The horror villain didn’t seem inclined to respond to your shy greeting, so you pressed yourself close to him, enjoying the feel of his hard body against your soft one. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits up in your tank top, as if offering them to him.

You were gratified when Bucky’s gaze dropped to your lightly heaving chest, and felt his empty hand twitch against your bare thigh, like he wanted to touch you but was holding himself back. Not that you needed him to touch you to know he was enjoying the feel of you against him.

Bucky’s bulge was already digging into your lower stomach, and you suspected he’d already been hard before you’d pressed against him. But still, you were gratified when, every time you shifted against him, he twitched in his pants, his cock eagerly responding to you.

The interest of Bucky’s cock had a smile spreading across your face, making you look like the cat who got the cream as you tipped your head back and grinned shamelessly up at the horror movie villain.

“Is that a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” you purred, rocking your body against Bucky’s bulge and pressing your chest more tightly to his leather jacket. You were practically rubbing on him like a cat in heat, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It felt too good to feel his solid, sturdy form against you.

As you shifted closer, you could feel the tackiness of blood on your arms and chest, and when you glanced down, you saw that some had stuck to you from Bucky’s jacket. It was odd to see the blood on your skin, but it felt like another reminder of what you were doing—and, especially, who you were doing it with.

Fire was blazing through your veins as you cast your hooded eyes on Bucky’s face, your mouth going soft as you met his piercing gaze. There was a cold flame in the depths of his blue eyes, one you’d never seen in all the times you’d watched Slasher, and it filled you with pride to realize Bucky liked having you pressed against him.

In response to your question, which you’d almost forgotten in the seconds after it passed your lips, Bucky huffed a laugh behind his mask. Then his hands were on your ass, and he was grabbing your soft flesh with an unyielding grip. He hiked you up higher against his chest, using his inhuman strength, and your legs fell open instinctively, so his thick bulge dug into the juncture of your thighs.

A wanton moan fell from your lips, your head falling back as you rocked your hips in tiny circles, grinding on Bucky’s hard cock through your clothes. You could feel the flat steel of his knife pressed to the back of your thigh, and your core pulsed at the weapon’s proximity to your most sensitive place, but you didn’t have any worry he was going to use it on you—not when he was staring at you with such a greedy look in his eyes.

Bucky growled out, “Dumb slut,” as his fingers dug into your ass through your jean shorts, but you were too distracted by humping against the mountain of a man, pleasure swirling through your body and filling your head with cotton candy nothing.

All that mattered was grinding against Bucky’s bulge, and the fact that you were finally—finally—getting to live out your darkest fantasies of fucking the horror movie villain.

“Y’know, I always wondered if killing made your cock hard,” you murmured breathlessly, catching Bucky’s eye and giving him a cheeky grin. “Guess I have my answer now.” You dragged the seam of your shorts up the thick length of Bucky’s cock, drawing a growl from him, your smile spreading wider. “Unless you just have a soft spot for dumb sluts like me,” you said, giggling at your own joke and batting your lashes at him.

Bucky shook his head at you, but not like he was disagreeing with you—more like he was already exasperated with your antics.

“I thought I already killed this town’s biggest slut,” Bucky ground out, and though you couldn’t see his mouth or jaw, you somehow knew he was grinding his teeth. His fingers dug harder into your ass, his grip nearly punishing as you squirmed against him.

You found an angle that had your clit rubbing against the tip of Bucky’s cock through your clothes and you let your head fall back, a filthy moan spilling from your lips. The obscene sound rose toward the darkening sky above the fairgrounds, loud against the silence that had fallen over the deserted carnival.

When you managed to get control of your tongue again, and pick up the thread of your conversation, you shot Bucky another grin.

“I’m not from Bakersfield,” you purred, pulling yourself closer to Bucky’s face, until your lips were nearly brushing against the hard plastic of his mask. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy, gusting through the slots on the front, making you shiver. Your expression settled into one of fake seriousness as you stared him in the eye. “And you have no idea how much of a slut I can be.”

A growl rumbled in Bucky’s chest, and his blue eyes narrowed on you, like a predator deciding on its prey.

“Is that a challenge or an invitation, little cottontail?”

He slapped your ass with the flat of his knife, an obvious instruction to keep humping against him.

As you followed the order, you choked out a one word answer, “Both!” Then bit your lip against a moan, hiding your delight at the nickname—and your surprise that Bucky would call you anything so sweet.

But you didn’t seem to be grinding against him hard enough, because he dragged the sharp edge of his knife over the backs of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your ass. He didn’t press hard enough to break skin, but you could feel the threat in the gesture.

You lost the battle against trembling in the big, horror movie villain’s arms, and whimpered, rocking against him harder as a single tear leaked down your cheek. Pleasure was pulsing through your body, hard and fast, the same rhythm in which your heart beat in your chest.

Bucky rumbled a sound of pleasure, his blue eyes going molten as he watched the tear track down your face. He seemed to have forgotten your conversation entirely, more focused on your smaller body humping against his larger one.

You had long since soaked through your panties, and you could feel your arousal leaking through your shorts, coating your inner thighs in your wetness. But dry humping with Bucky wasn’t what you had in mind when you’d fantasized about the horror movie villain through most of your adult years. You needed more, and you had just the idea—a fantasy you’d long wanted to fulfill. With Bucky Barnes especially.

“I know you’re sort of busy, killing and all that,” you huffed, your body straining to keep rocking against his thick length with the speed he desired. “But I was wondering if you might want to take a break and play a game with me?” Your voice was hopelessly breathless and breathlessly hopeful, the pleading in your tone blatant as your words pitched higher with your question.

Bucky’s brows lowered in confusion. “What kind of game?” came his rumbling, distorted voice from behind his mask.

With a flash of a smirk, you shifted one hand to his shoulder, where you remembered the bullet wound would be beneath his jacket. You could feel the slight raise of the bandages beneath the leather, and you dug your thumb into the spot. You were rewarded by a vicious growl and Bucky’s hands falling away from your ass, the cold steel of his knife disappearing from your skin.

Hopping down, you danced a few feet away from the now-enraged psychopathic killer, making sure you were beyond the reach of his long arms, including the length of his knife before you stopped. Something in your core tightened with excitement when Bucky’s cold, blue eyes focused entirely on you. Even the sight of him shaking out his arm seemed somehow threatening.

You could see the dark stain of deep red blood in the black leather of his jacket, and couldn’t help but grin. You’d unleashed the darkest side of him, and you couldn’t be more giddy.

You knew Bucky had been holding back on you while you’d been in his arms. But you didn’t want to fuck a horror movie villain because you wanted some harmless dry humping. You wanted him to wreck you. You wanted him to hunt you down and make you his.

“The game is this,” you began, skipping back a few steps when Bucky lunged for you—though you noticed he reached for you with his free hand, rather than his knife, which you took as a good sign and grinned wider. “If you catch me, you can fuck me.” You held his gaze, your smile turning a little feral as you watched the seething villain. “As hard and as rough as you want.”

Your final words made Bucky pause, like a predator going still right before launching itself at its prey. His electric blue eyes shone brighter, reflecting the neon lights of the carnival as they fall across his handsome face.

You could feel the energy in him shift, and even though you couldn’t see his mouth, you somehow knew he was grinning. You suspected it was even more feral than your own smile.

“You really are the dumbest fucking slut, little cottontail,” Bucky growled, equal parts humor and menace in his tone, sending a delicious shiver skating down your spine. He took a step forward, his eyes sharp as they watched you skip backward, staying out of reach of his hand and his knife. “You better not let me catch you, baby, because if I do, I’m going to make you scream bloody murder as I split you open with my cock.”

The grin on your face was so wide it was beginning to make your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t wipe it away even if you’d tried. Your entire body was buzzing with anticipation, adrenaline already pumping through your veins as you prepared to run. But you couldn’t help yourself, you had to taunt Bucky just a little more. If you were only going to get one chance to fuck your horror movie villain crush, you were going to make it count.

“Bet you say that to all the girls—bet none of them can scream like me,” you sassed, bouncing on the balls of your feet and scampering back a few more steps when Bucky took another menacing step forward, his big, heavy boot crunching the grass beneath him.

You laughed at his scowling face, the sound loud and wild in the quiet that had fallen over the fairgrounds. Even the music of the carousel had gone silent. But you couldn’t hold your tongue. You loved the look of danger on Bucky’s face too much.

“You gotta catch me first, Mr. Slasher, then we’ll see if you can make me scream.”

With that parting challenge, you gave Bucky one last cheeky, impertinent smile, and the you turned and took off.

Sprinting off into the Bakersfield Fun Fair, you didn’t dare look behind you, knowing instinctively that Bucky would be close on your heels. Your mind raced as you tried to form some kind of plan, since you hadn’t thought this far ahead.

Of course, you had every intention of letting Bucky catch you, but you didn’t want to make it too easy for him. Besides, you’d always wanted to be chased by the hot horror movie villain, then overpowered and taken by the brutal man, so you wanted to make sure you enjoyed yourself as well.

As you turned a corner and began running down a row of carnival rides and games on the edge of the fairground, you spotted the funhouse in front of you. Grinning wildly, you pushed to run a little harder and launched yourself up the metal stairs leading into the funhouse.

There was a spinning barrel right away, and you clambered through it, the silence inside the funhouse swallowing you up as you plunged into the depths of the structure. Hauling yourself up a flight of stairs, you stumbled to a stop when you found that the interior of the funhouse was a maze of mirrors.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you began moving through the maze, your hands outstretched to feel your way between the mirrors. Too soon, you heard Bucky’s heavy footsteps on the metal stairs leading up to the level with the maze and you tried to scurry faster, but you kept bumping into mirrors thinking they were a clear path forward.

A deep, dark chuckle echoed through the stuffy room in the funhouse, the sound distorted through Bucky’s mask, making him truly sound like a horror movie villain.

The sound of his laugh sent a shiver racing down your spine, your heart rate picking up as you heard his heavy boots begin walking through the maze. It seemed like he was moving much faster than you and you tried to pick up your pace.

“When I get my hands on you, little cottontail,” Bucky began, his menacing voice filtering to you easily, sounding like he was right behind you. “You’re going to regret being such a dumb slut—I’m going to destroy your tight holes with my cock and ruin you until you’re all mine.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” you called over your shoulder, just before barreling into another mirror with a defeated, “oof,” as you tried to escape the maze.

Huffing in frustration, you turned and went down another path, your panicked breaths so loud in your ears, you couldn’t hear Bucky’s footsteps anymore. You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, but your lungs protested, your pounding heart making you feel the blood pumping through your veins with every step you took.

“If you’re a good slut, maybe I won’t kill you,” Bucky rumbled, his voice definitely closer than it should be, and you whipped around, looking for the source. But he was no where in sight. “Maybe I’ll keep you—chain you up in my basement, and use your body like the fuck hole you were meant to be.”

You tried to ignore the way your pussy quivered at Bucky’s threat, your body wanting him to do exactly that. But you pushed on, though you were having a harder and harder time remembering why you didn’t want him to catch you. Your panties were soaked and your hole was aching to be filled. And Bucky seemed more than willing to fuck you until you were nothing more than the dumb slut he accused you of being.

Rounding a corner, you gasped loudly as the massive form of Bucky Barnes loomed in front of you, his blue eyes immediately finding yours and making you feel like prey trapped by a much larger predator.

Spinning on the ball of your foot, you turned and tried to escape in the other direction, only to run head first into Bucky’s chest. His arms closed around you, and you belatedly realized the Bucky you’d seen had been a reflection in one of the mirrors. He wasted no time, squeezing you so tight to his body that you cried out, his strength forcing the air from your lungs. You were caught.

“I win, little cottontail,” Bucky sneered, crushing you harder to his chest while you struggled to breathe, your ribs feeling like they were on the verge of snapping.

Then, suddenly, he let you go and you slumped to your knees, your legs giving out as you fell to the metal floor of the funhouse. Your head was spinning from the lack of air and you focused on pulling as much oxygen into your lungs as possible, the adrenaline in your body making you feel your heartbeat in your temples.

While you were distracted, Bucky quickly worked his pants open and before you knew what was happening, his thick, heavy cock fell on your face with a lewd slapping sound. You flinched. But then Bucky’s musky scent filled your nose, and you relaxed. Warmth spread through your body as your mind went fuzzy for an entirely different reason than lack of oxygen.

Your mouth fell open instinctively, your head tipping back to press your lips to his girth, and you felt more wetness dripping from your slit between your thighs.

Bucky chuckled at your obvious submission, but still used the flat tip of his knife to tip your face back further, until it was practically horizontal. He worked his hips languidly, sliding his cock over your face, precum dripping onto your skin and making a mess of your cheeks and forehead.

“Open your mouth wider, dumb slut,” Bucky growled, his eyes glittering in the dim funhouse as he stared down at you.

When you did as he ordered, sticking your tongue out for good measure, the tip playing with his balls, the horror villain made a pleased sound deep in his chest. You had the distinct impression he was smiling again, and you almost dared to ask him to take off the mask, but decided against it. Part of the fun of fucking Bucky Barnes was him keeping the mask on.

“Good girl,” Bucky purred, petting your head with his free hand. He dragged his hips back and pushed the leaking head of his dick into your mouth. “Now, suck.”

The metal flooring of the funhouse dug painfully into your knees, but you pushed the pain from your mind as you focused entirely on Bucky’s cock. Wrapping your lips around the head, you sucked gently, the taste of his precum bursting on your tongue. Your chest warmed with pride when he groaned in pleasure.

You’d intended to take your time—wanting to savor Bucky’s cock and learn every inch of the thick, veiny length before making him come in your mouth. But it seemed your horror movie crush didn’t have the patience for that. You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised. You did make him chase you.

“Is that all ya got, little cottontail?” Bucky growled, using the hand on your head to push you down roughly on his cock, making you gag, your hands flailing against his hard thighs. “I thought you were some kind of slut—thought you’d be throating my cock the second you got your lips around it.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as he pushed deeper with a grunt, your fingers curling into fists against his thighs as you tried to open for him. Bucky’s cock forcing its way into your throat stung a little, and you worked to relax your muscles, but they kept squeezing tight, preventing his hard length from sliding all the way in.

Finally, Bucky pulled his cock free from your mouth and you gasped for breath, a hand massaging your throat, the inside feeling raw already. But Bucky didn’t seem to care.

He bent down over you, grabbing your face in his free hand and using the sharp end of his knife to wipe the tears from your face.

“I thought you wanted this, baby,” he rumbled, his tone mocking and patronizing, a laugh in his distorted voice that made you think he was grinning and enjoying your struggle more than he was trying to let on. “You said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want.” He paused to tsk at you. “You can’t even take my cock without gagging—some slut you are.”

Embarrassment and no small amount of humiliation flooded through you, making you pout. OK so maybe you were more of a slut in theory than in practice, but you did want this. And you’d been trying. Couldn’t he see that?

Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared up at Bucky, your lips still pursed in a pout.

“Your cock is too big,” you huffed, a hint of a whine in your voice. “Let me try again.”

Bucky laughed, the sound cold and mean, though that only made your pussy drip even more for him. He patted your cheek patronizingly with his knife before fixing you with a hard look.

“You either take my whole cock in your dumb slut mouth, little cottontail,” he growled, a threat in his tone. “Or I’ll make you take it, ya hear me?”

The menace in his deep voice sent a shiver racing down your spine, settling heavily between your thighs until you had to squeeze them together against the ache in your core. You nodded your understanding. “Yes, sir,” you murmured.

“Good girl,” came Bucky’s rumbling, terrifying voice. Then he stood up and shoved his cock into your mouth again, so suddenly that all you could do was make a muffled, surprised noise and take it.

You bobbed on the hard, thick length of Bucky’s cock, stretching your lips until the edges stung, forcing his girth deep into your mouth. You gagged when the tip pressed against the back of your throat, but you tried to ignore your body’s response and work past it. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn’t get his dick all the way inside your mouth.

After a few minutes of letting you try and watching you fail, Bucky let out an impatient growl before muttering, “Looks like you need me to make you take my cock, baby.” Both his hands grabbed your head and he tilted it back, so your gaze met his. “Just remember, if you’d been a better slut, you wouldn’t have made me do this.”

Your eyes widened, tears leaking out the corners as he moved you into the new position he wanted, with your back to one of the mirrors, your head trapped between the hard surface and his cock. Your fingers fisted in the fabric of his pants near his knees, but you didn’t protest, just stared up at your horror movie villain, anticipation zipping through your body.

“Don’t worry, little cottontail,” Bucky rumbled, and you could tell he was smiling again, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a telltale way. “This won’t hurt nearly as much as if I’d slit your throat—but it’ll probably last longer than it would’ve taken you to bleed out.”

At that ominous comment, your pussy clenched, even more wetness dripping from your pussy and soaking your shorts. You clenched your thighs together, but that was the only part of your body you could move other than your arms. You were helpless to Bucky’s brutality, and you loved it. If his cock wasn’t already buried in your mouth, you would’ve urged him on.

Wasting no more time, Bucky shoved his dick deep into your mouth, pushing past the squeezing muscles in your throat, groaning when you choked and gagged on his thick cock. Your jaw ached and your throat felt raw, but you accepted it, you welcomed it. Bucky’s roughness was only making your pussy wetter, and you couldn’t wait until you could feel him sinking into your tight, wet hole.

Still, you couldn’t quite control your body’s reaction to the intrusion in your throat. Your throat spasmed and you let out a strangled little sound of desperation as it got harder to breathe. You arms flailed and your body tried to escape, only to bang against the mirror behind you. The fact that you were trapped, really trapped, made more tears leak from your eyes.

“That’s it, baby, cry for me while you’re choking on my cock,” Bucky rumbled, holding your head in his hands as he stared down at you, kneeling for him, your throat bulging with his cock. His eyes sparkled like he enjoyed the sight far too much. “Your dumb slut tears are making me harder.”

You felt his cock throb in your throat as proof, but then he was pulling back, only for his hips to snap forward, burying his hard length in your throat all over again. More tears poured down your face, your throat closing on a sob that wrenched a deep, pleasured groan from Bucky.

“Fuck, that’s it—take it, slut, you might be crying, but you fucking love it, don’t you, little cottontail?” Bucky rumbled, breathless laughter in his tone. “You love letting me use your mouth like my own personal fuck toy, bet your pussy’s dripping onto the floor, making a mess of your thighs like ‘m gonna make a mess of your face, huh?”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned around Bucky’s cock, his words stoking the blazing fire of your arousal. It didn’t help matters that he was right—your thighs, your shorts and your panties were a mess, all soaked with your desire.

Bucky grunted when he felt you moan around his hardness, his hips snapping against your face harder as he pounded into your mouth. His hands held your head in a punishing grip, his cock ramming deep into your throat while the back of your skull was pressed against the mirror behind you.

A whine worked its way up your throat as you squirmed, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled, to be rubbed, to get some kind of attention. One of your hands fell between your thighs and you rocked against it, your clit rubbing against the seam of your shorts until you were moaning and sobbing around Bucky’s cock.

Suddenly he stopped. “What’re you doin’ down there, little cottontail?” he rasped, ducking his head to the side so he could see around his cock and your face. When he caught you with your hand between your thighs, he laughed, his glittering blue eyes finding yours. “Oh, I see—the dumb little slut’s dripping hole needs some attention, huh?”

Bucky shifted, using his booted foot to kick your thighs apart on the metal floor of the funhouse. Then he shoved his boot between your legs, and jerked his head like he expected you to sit on it.

“You need something to hump against, don’t you, baby?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Well, go ‘head. Ride my fucking boot, little cottontail.” His voice was dark and deep, the sound of it making you shiver. But you couldn’t pretend you didn’t want to follow his order, so you lowered yourself down onto his boot.

The moment your aching core dragged over the laces of Bucky’s boot, you let out a low, filthy moan, the sound muffled by his cock in your mouth. It was exactly the kind of friction you wanted, your clit and messy slit rubbing against the seam of your shorts and the roughness of his laces. Pleasure bloomed, hot and heady, and swirled through your body, overwhelming your mind.

Above you, Bucky groaned, shoving deeper into your throat until your nose was pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock and his balls were nestled up against your chin. Spit and precum and tears were leaking down your face, making a mess of your jaw and chin, dripping down to your tits while Bucky watched you with hooded eyes.

“Do that again, baby,” Bucky grunted, holding your head down on his hardness. “Moan like a dumb fucking slut on my cock while I ruin your throat.”

It took little effort to moan again as pleasure and pain swirled through your body, your hips working on Bucky’s boot, grinding your slick cunt against the stiff leather through your panties and shorts. Your clit rubbed over the laces, your mind filling with clouds of bliss as you sank into the feeling of your pussy grinding against Bucky’s boot and his cock fucking your throat.

Bucky was grunting and groaning loudly, his sounds of pleasure a reward for how good your slutty mouth was making him feel. He pounded into your face, his balls slapping against your chin, seeking his release while you humped against his boot, intent on finding your own pleasure while he used you.

You were both lost entirely in each other, too focused on seeking pleasure to notice someone else had entered the funhouse. Bucky’s eyes were only for you, and you were staring up too intently into his face, watching pleasure make his eyes go hazy to pay attention to your surroundings—which was the only reason one of the final girl’s friends was able to sneak up on the two of you.

“Get away from her, you monster!” The girl’s shriek was followed closely by the splintering sound of a wooden bat as she swung it at Bucky, and the thing shattering apart against his back. Her face, twisted in fury and determination, quickly shifted to surprise and panic.

For his part, Bucky merely grunted, barely lurching forward as he shoved his cock impossibly deeper in your throat while he bore the attack. But then he was moving quicker than your pleasure-drunk eyes could fully process, your body only aware that he was pulling back until only the tip of him remained on your tongue. Growling furiously, Bucky turned and used his knife to slash the girl’s throat.

You vaguely recognized the girl as one of the characters in Slasher who gets killed at the carnival in the third act, though you couldn’t remember which ride Bucky kills her on. Maybe it was the funhouse—that would explain how she found the two of you.

In that moment, you didn’t much care. You’d been busy with Bucky and you were more than a little annoyed at the interruption. Your body was buzzing with your unslaked need, and you felt horny and frustrated as you turned your attention back to the horror villain above you.

But Bucky’s focus was entirely on the other girl, who was grabbing her throat uselessly, trying to stem the gush of blood as she stumbled into a mirror, leaving a bloody handprint behind. Bucky’s eyes were gleaming as he savored the sight of the dying girl, the corners of his eyes crinkling like he was grinning.

His cock was still in your mouth, but just barely, and the longer he watched the other girl die, the more a pout grew on your lips.

After a few long moments of the girl’s death dragging on, you’d had enough. This was your fantasy come to life, and if Bucky wasn’t going to pay attention to you and get you off, then you were going to make him.

Carefully, you extracted yourself from between Bucky and the mirror you’d been pressed against, your pout only growing when his stiff cock slipped from your lips and he didn’t even notice. Quickly, you crawled around the corner and once you were out of sight, you hopped up to your feet so you could move faster.

Your legs felt weak from your earlier running and kneeling on the hard, metal floor—not to mention how close you’d been to coming on Bucky’s boot. But you urged them to work as you moved as quietly as you could through the rest of the maze.

You were already almost to the exit when Bucky finally noticed you’d escaped. His angry roar of, “COTTONTAIL!” echoed off the mirrors and metal walls inside the funhouse. But his rage only made you snicker. It was his own fault, after all.

“You shoulda tied me down or paid more attention to me if you didn’t want me getting away, Mr. Slasher,” you called over your shoulder, taunting him as you darted around the final corner in the mirror maze, finding your way out. You clambered through the rest of the funhouse, Bucky’s stomping footsteps reverberating around you and making your heart beat faster with fear and excitement.

You slid down the slide that worked as the exit from the funhouse and as soon as your feet hit the grass of the fairground, you sprinted off again. Wracking your brain, you tried to think about where else Bucky kills the final girl’s friends in the final act of Slasher. All you could remember was the ending, with the carousel.

You turned a corner, running in the opposite direction of the carousel and that area of the carnival, not wanting the final girl or anymore of her friends interrupting you once Bucky caught you again.

Sooner than you expected, a leather-clad chest slammed into your back and, within the next breath, you hit the grassy ground as Bucky tackled you. One of his hands wrapped around the front of your throat, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck while he pressed his face into the side of yours.

Even through his hard plastic mask, you could feel his breath on your skin, his hot, heavy breaths gusting past your cheek as he panted like a rabid dog.

“I win again, baby,” Bucky growled, his voice even more threatening thanks to the fury in it. He clearly didn’t appreciate that you’d made him chase you again, and the coldness in his tone promised that while you might find pleasure in what he was about to do to you, you were also going to feel no small amount of pain.

“And you can be sure I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he went on, resting more of his weight on your back until you were pinned to the ground beneath him, your body struggling to catch your breath as he crushed your lungs. “Now that I have you, you’re never getting away from me again—you’re mine, little cottontail.”

Your heart panged in your chest, and it took you a second to realize the feeling was yearning. Because that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? You wanted someone to see you at your brattiest, with your darkest desires all laid out—and even seeing your soul bared for them, you wanted them to want to keep you. Part of you wanted to roll over and open your legs for Bucky, tell him you were his forever. But that wasn’t really in your nature.

Instead, you huffed a belated laugh, squirming beneath Bucky and fighting against his considerable strength even though you knew it was no good. You weren’t going anywhere, and you loved it.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Mr. Slasher,” you taunted, bucking your hips hard. You felt Bucky’s big body jostle just a little and, sensing a glimmer of freedom, you fought harder.

Then cold steel replaced Bucky’s hand at your throat and you went still. Despite the fact that he’d used the knife mere moments ago to kill someone else, you were almost certain he wasn’t going to do the same to you. Well, pretty certain.

Besides, you were still convinced you were in a dream and dying would only wake you up. But with Bucky’s knife pressed to your neck, you didn’t exactly want to test your theory.

The horror movie villain chuckled, his chest rumbling against your spine and his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve done all night, little cottontail,” he murmured, his voice so dark and deep, it made you shiver.

He dug the steel of his knife into your throat, using his other hand to guide you up onto your hands and knees. Bucky’s big body was curled over yours, his hand reaching beneath you to grope your tits while he groaned against the side of your face.

“Such soft tits, baby,” he grunted as his fingers kneaded your flesh through your tank top. Then his hand was diving under the fabric to pinch your nipples, making you cry out and arch your back. “Yeah, that’s it, ya dumb slut, let me hear how much you like having a monster like me playing with your tits.”

You whimpered when he pinched your nipple hard and shook your breast, the sting of pain and pleasure consuming your mind and making you grind back against his thick cock, which he’d tucked back into his pants. An impatient whine tumbled from your lips and it was on the tip of your tongue to beg Bucky to fuck you, but it seemed he was just as eager to get on with it.

Skimming his hand down your body, Bucky found the button of your shorts and quickly undid them. He sat up on his knees, dragging you with him and keeping his knife at your throat.

He shoved your shorts and panties down roughly past your ass to your thighs, then dipped his hand between your legs. A loud groan rumbled in his chest when he realized how wet you were.

“Fuck, you really are a slut, aren’t you, baby?” he taunted in a mocking tone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. His fingers slipped between your drenched folds and all you could do to answer him was moan as he teased your pussy. “I’m gonna fill up this slick cunt, little cottontail,” he rumbled in your ear, a promise ringing in his words. “I’m gonna destroy your tight hole until you’re nothing more than my dumb, cock-drunk slut.”

Between Bucky’s fingers playing with your pussy and his words wreaking havoc on your pleasure-soaked mind, you were desperate for him to follow through on his promise.

Suddenly, you’d had enough of the game you’d been playing with Bucky and you wanted him to finally—finally—fuck you.

“Please, Bucky, please, please, fuck me,” you sobbed, tears leaking from your eyes and down your cheeks as you rocked your ass against his hard cock. “Please, god, I need it—I need you.”

For a moment, Bucky was silent and unmoving. Then he was shoving you forward into the grass so you were back on your hands and knees. His knife just barely grazed the side of your neck as you fell forward, and you whimpered at the light sting of it.

The next thing you knew, Bucky’s cock was slapping against your bare ass, and he was lining himself up with your soaked, fluttering pussy. Your fingers dug into the grass, preparing yourself to hold on for dear life.

“Remember, little cottontail, you said I could fuck you as hard and rough as I want,” Bucky rumbled, sliding his cock between your legs, coating his thick length in your desire. “If it’s too much for you, you can scream all you want, but I’m not stopping until I’ve filled your cunt with all the come in my balls.”

You could hear the laughter in Bucky’s voice, but didn’t have time to respond to his words because in the next second, he shoved himself all the way inside you with one thrust.

Bucky’s thick, hard cock slammed deep into your tight pussy, and a scream wrenched free from your lips, making your already raw throat hurt even more. But it was the delicious kind of pain that mixed perfectly with the feeling of Bucky filling you up for the first time.

His girth was bigger than anyone or any toy you’d taken before, and it felt like you were being split apart, your insides rearranging to make room for his huge cock. It was only because you were so wet that it didn’t really hurt, but the sting of the stretch was enough to send your mind reeling, your thoughts scattering until the only thing that mattered was Bucky’s cock inside you and his body behind you.

Bucky made a noise that was half groan, half growl—sounding entirely feral behind his mask as his hands dug into your hips. You could feel him still holding his knife, but the steel wasn’t pressed against your skin so you didn’t give it much thought.

“God, that’s a tight fucking cunt ya got here, cottontail,” he rasped, pulling back and slamming forward so hard, your arms shook and you nearly collapsed face first into the grass. “Feel like you were fucking made for me, baby—made to be my fuck hole, made to take my cock.”

True to his word, the horror movie villain rutted into you hard, paying no mind to your pleasure, just taking his own. But that was exactly how you liked it, and you couldn’t help the litany of desperate moans and whimpers that tumbled past your lips.

Before long, your arms gave out and your cheek pressed to the grass, which was cool against your face. The position made your back arch and your ass stick up in the air. Bucky made a pleased sound, slapping your ass in a gesture that almost felt like praise.

“Yeah, take it like a slut, baby,” he growled, pounding into you harder—hard enough you could feel your ass and hips and thighs ripple with the force of his thrusts. “This is how dumb sluts are meant to be fucked.”

You whined at the searing pleasure of Bucky’s cock hammering into your cunt, and you arched your back further, giving him easier access to drive even deeper into you from behind. Your reward was another hard slap on your ass—that time with the cold flat steel of Bucky’s knife. You squealed, then moaned as the sharp sting devolved into even more pleasure.

Bucky laughed, the sound wild and dark. Then he curled his body over yours, dropping the knife in the grass so he could grab wrap one of his hands around your throat while the other groped your tits.

“You’re mine, little cottontail,” he growled in your ear. “I own your body now, and you’re going to be my personal fuck toy for the rest of your life.” He rutted into you, hard and rough, his hips slapping against your ass mixing with the sounds of your wet pussy being fucked. “I’m gonna chain you up in my basement, and you’re gonna be my basement slut—my little cottontail—forever.”

It was impossible to nod, and impossible to speak, with how tightly Bucky had you pinned beneath him while he fucked you. So you wrapped a hand around his wrist, not pulling him away, but squeezing hard enough that you could feel his pulse thrumming beneath your thumb. You clung to him, telling him wordlessly that you were submitting to him, tears gathering in your lashes as pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, pounding you hard and fast, the hard plastic of his mask digging into the side of your face. “Cry for me, cottontail, you know it makes me harder.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your throat while his other hand tortured your nipples, tugging and pinching them, until your tears began leaking from your eyes. Bucky ducked forward, nuzzling your tear-stained cheek through his mask, groaning as he hit a spot inside of you that made your whole body clench and your mouth drop open in a soundless scream.

“I can feel your cunt choking my cock, baby,” Bucky rumbled in your ear. “You really love everything I’m doing to you, don’t you, dumb slut?” His hips pressed against your ass and he started grinding his cock deep in your core, the tip brushing against that spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Yes, yes, Bucky, yes,” you sobbed, your words breathless and soft and only able to escape because he’d loosened his hold on your throat slightly. But then he tightened his fingers again and you made a desperate little gasping sound.

Bucky laughed, the sound evil and mocking, and your cunt pulsed again. He refocused on fucking you, pounding into you and chasing his own pleasure. You tried to scream, the pleasure nearly mind-blowing, but his hand on your throat made sure you could only make the barest of noises.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, little cottontail,” Bucky rumbled, his hard plastic mask chafing against your sensitive cheek. “You’re gonna come and show me that you’re mine, that you accept your new life—and me as your master.”

Your fingers squeezed his wrist again in understanding, and then you couldn’t think anymore. Bucky’s cock was pounding into your pussy hard enough to almost hurt, pleasure pulsing through your body as he plucked and played with your tits. Your head was going fuzzy from a lack of air, but that just made everything else feel better and more.

When Bucky’s hand abandoned your tits to slip between your thighs, it only took a few strokes of his fingers against your clit to set you off. At the same moment, Bucky’s hand loosened around your throat, and oxygen flooded your lungs as you came on his cock.

It was almost an out-of-body experience, coming on the thick length of your horror movie villain crush, your mind going entirely blank as your body tried to process all the pleasure and sensation flooding through it. A loud, piercing scream sounded in your ears and it took a second to realize it was spilling from your own lips.

Bucky’s hand tightened around your throat again, tighter than before, cutting off the sound of your pleasure while he grunted and groaned above you. He was rutting into you as your walls squeezed his cock, taking his pleasure as he prolonged yours.

Blackness was starting to creep into the edges of your vision when he finally roared loudly, his cock throbbing inside you as he spilled his come deep in your pussy. His fingers dug into the sides of your throat harder, choking you through his orgasm as your body fluttered with the last waves of your release.

The last thing you heard was Bucky muttering, “Good girl, take my come, little cottontail,” as he pumped you full of his thick, sticky seed. Then, there was nothing but comforting darkness, and you sank into it, feeling satisfied and happy as you passed out in the arms of your horror movie villain…

Now, the choice is yours, dear reader. Do you want to stay with Bucky Barnes and live in the world of Slasher? If so, read on for the dark ending! Or do you want to wake up and meet someone a little less psychotic? If so, skip down to the fluffy ending!

Slasher - Dark Ending

dark ending additional warnings: dubcon, somnophilia, slightly painful sex, basement wife-ing, references to Bucky's arm amputation, Bucky is even more psychotic

You were woken by your body jostling against concrete, an aching mix of pleasure and pain radiating between your thighs. The slick sounds of fucking met your ears and, belatedly, you realized you were impaled on a cock, the thickness of it stretching your tight hole to its limit.

Your inner thighs felt chafed and your back hurt from the position you were contorted in, your shoulders propped up against a cinderblock wall while you were folded in half at the waist, a heavy body pinning your legs to your chest while they fucked you. You were naked and a little cold, but the body against you was warm.

Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of Bucky’s handsome face contorted with pleasure as he fucked you. There was a new glimmer in the depths of his blue eyes—something wild and feral and more than a little frightening. His mouth spread into a savage grin when he saw you were awake.

“There’s my little cottontail,” he rumbled before ducking down and kissing your cheek in a gesture that would’ve been sweet if not for his stubble roughing over your sensitive skin. You whimpered softly at the abrading feeling, your pussy pulsing despite your exhaustion.

When he pulled back, the sound of chains rattling above you finally caught your attention and you looked up, finding your wrists shackled above your head and bolted into the wall of the basement. Dim morning light was filtering in through windows set high in the walls, and you couldn’t make out much beyond the shadow of the stairs leading up to the first floor.

Before you could gather you wits enough to ask a question, or wade through your confusion to figure out what question you should even ask, Bucky slammed deep inside you, wringing a weak moan from you. It was only then that you realized he’d been taking it easy on you while you were asleep, but since you were awake, he started fucking you harder. Pleasure, pain and bewilderment warred with the tiredness of just waking up as you tried to think.

Your eyes slid closed while you tried to block out Bucky and your surroundings. You needed to figure out why you weren’t in your grandmother’s basement, having woken up from the dream you’d been sure you were having.

But Bucky didn’t like that. His weight settled more heavily on top of you, making your hips ache in protest, and grabbed your face roughly in his hand.

“Look at me, cottontail,” he rumbled, shaking your head until your eyes fluttered open again.

Tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes and your mouth worked, trying to find the words for how you felt. You’d wanted this—wanted someone like Bucky who saw who you really were and still wanted to keep you. But now that you were actually chained up in his basement, you wondered if maybe you’d jumped in the deep end without being able to swim.

“Don’t look so confused, baby,” Bucky growled in a patronizingly sweet tone, thumbing your tears from your cheeks and making you flinch as the salt of them irritated your skin. “I told you I was never letting you go—you knew this was going to happen.” He was grinding his cock deep into your well-used cunt, the pleasure almost painful. “Now that you’re chained up in my basement, you have no hope of ever escaping from me again.”

The head of his cock battered against your cervix and you cried out, your head thumping against the cinderblock wall behind you. The pain mixed with the pleasure of thick length rubbing against your sensitive inner walls until your mind was spinning.

You just couldn’t wrap your head around it. You really hadn’t known this was going to happen. You’d thought you were dreaming and were going to wake up after you’d fucked Bucky Barnes, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Apparently you’d really somehow been transported into the world of Slasher.

“Thank me for keeping you, little cottontail,” Bucky growled, wringing another pleasured whimper from you as he kept grinding his cock into you. “After all, it wasn’t easy getting you here after that bitch crushed my arm.” His voice was dripping venom and he rocked his hips harder, forcing tears from your eyes as his cock battered your cervix.

It was only then that you understood why so much of Bucky’s weight was resting on you while his hand held your face. Darting your eyes to Bucky’s shoulder, there was a thick, bloody bandage wrapped around the place where he must’ve amputated his arm after the final girl had crushed it in the carousel gears.

Your stomach rolled at the sight, empathy for Bucky surging through you. It really couldn’t have been easy getting you back to his house when he was injured like that.

But before you could follow the order he’d given you, Bucky yanked your face back to look at him. He ducked closer, so all you could see were his eyes, wild and psychotic, boring into your own.

“Thank your master for keeping you!” he growled harshly.

Your heart panged, and you rushed to do as he said. “Th-thank you for keeping me, Bucky,” you cried, tears streaming down your face, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. “Thank you, master!”

The anger leeched out of Bucky at your words and your tears, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you.

“Good girl,” he purred, nuzzling your cheek in reward and kissing your jaw with his soft lips. “My good, dumb slut—you’re going to make such a good basement wife for me.”

A small, confused noise squeaked out of you and Bucky pulled back, a grin on his face. He nodded up toward your hands and you twisted them in your shackles, finding shiny, silver metal glinting off your left ring finger. You sucked in a gasp, feeling speechless as your mind failed to process another shocking revelation in so little time.

“Your dream is coming true, baby,” Bucky rumbled, licking the tears from your cheeks, taking your silence as understanding and submission. “You’re going to be my own personal fuck hole—my pretty little dumb slut—for the rest of your life.”

Bucky canted his hips, grinding his cock into the depths of your pussy while the base of him rubbed against your clit and the pleasure that had been winding tighter in your core suddenly snapped. You came with a loud, sobbing scream, your head thrown back against the wall of the basement as tears cascaded down your cheeks while you succumbed to the pleasure, your cunt greedily squeezing Bucky’s cock.

A small part of you wanted to black out again, hoping you’d wake up back in your grandmother’s basement, unsure if you had what it took to be the full-time fuck toy of your favorite horror movie villain. But somehow you knew that wouldn’t happen.

Whatever had transported you into the world of Slasher seemed to be a one-way ticket, and you’d made your choices. The fact that you were at the mercy of Bucky Barnes was no one’s fault but your own.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret anything you’d done. After all, you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—you got to fuck Bucky Barnes. And if you had your way, you’d fuck Bucky Barnes every day until you died. Which was good, since that seemed to be exactly what he had planned for you.

Just then, Bucky grunted, his cock twitching inside you and he slammed deep, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a messy kiss while he came, coating your insides with his seed. His lips were hard and demanding, but you weren’t some wilting flower—you nipped his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky’s cock throbbed inside you as he chuckled, kissing you again, the taste of his blood bursting on your tongue as you devoured each other.

When he pulled away and collapsed on top of you, a satisfied smile curved your lips. You glanced up at the ring on your finger again, thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to be Bucky Barnes’ basement wife.

Slasher - Fluffy Ending

fluffy ending additional warnings: talk about past roleplay, some potentially risky decisions on reader's part, that's really it

You awoke with a start, the loud, chiming sound of the doorbell echoing through your grandmother’s house and dragging you back to reality from the depths of your dream. A faint soreness permeated your body, and you frowned, the memory of your dream clinging to the edges of your mind.

Groggily, you opened your eyes to find you were curled up on the familiar rug in the basement of your grandmother’s house, and you suspected the hard floor was likely the cause of your soreness. Still, you felt a faint tingling all over, the remnants of pleasure from your dream and you smiled as you stretched languidly, easing most of the aches in your limbs.

The doorbell chimed again, and you dragged yourself up, wiping drool from your cheek as you pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself and climbed the stairs up to the first floor. On your way to the door, you checked the time, finding it was nearly midnight, and wondered who was stopping by so late. All your relatives and all your grandmother’s friends would be asleep.

Flicking on the porch light, you opened the front door, but the left the screen door latched when you found a strange man standing there. The frigid autuman night air wrapped around you, and you crossed your arms over your chest to stave off a shiver.

“Hey Mrs—” The man had been standing with his back to you, facing the street, and swung around when he heard the door open. But he paused when he saw you, his greeting cutting off as if he’d been expecting someone else.

A distant corner of your brain pointed out that of course he was expecting someone else—you were answering the door at your grandmother’s house.

But you couldn’t pay attention to your mind’s logic because you were silently freaking out. The man looked almost exactly like Bucky Barnes.

He had the same sparkling blue eyes, though there wasn’t any of the cold hatred that haunted your favorite horror movie villain. And his mouth was curved into a charming smile, which you knew for certain you’d never see on the version of Bucky from Slasher. The man’s hair was also shorter, and the stubble on his jaw was a little less scruffy, like he’d shaved that morning and it had grown out since then. The style really worked for him.

He was somehow even more attractive than Bucky Barnes. You didn’t know how that was possible, but apparently it was.

The man shifted on his feet, running a hand through his hair, looking a little abashed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb ya,” he said, a slight Brooklyn accent in his voice. “Sometimes I borrow some ground coffee from the lady who lives here when I’ve run out.” He shot you a sheepish smile and shrugged. “And I’ve run out.”

“Oh,” you said, a little dumbly. “You must be talking about my grandmother.” Your surprise over the man’s resemblance to Bucky was wearing off, and you found that his smile was infectious. He had a charm to him that made you want to tell him more than you should, which must’ve been why you found yourself saying, “She’s on a cruise, and I’m watching her house.”

It might’ve been a mistake to tell a strange man that much, but instead of doing anything to make you second-guess yourself, he just smacked a hand against his forehead. The gesture was so endearing, you couldn’t help but laugh, warming to him even more.

“You’re right! She told me about that.” He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your face—hopefully not finding any traces of drool on your chin—and his eyes softened. “Sorry again to bother you, your gran’s normally up watching one of those late shows, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You snorted to yourself. Of course your grandmother was known for staying up later than you. But you didn’t want the man to feel bad. It wasn’t like he woke you up before you came on dream Bucky’s cock.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head and smiling softly to let him know it really was fine. Again, you had the urge to say more to him than you normally would to a stranger. So, before you could hold your tongue, you blurted, “Do you know you look exactly like the villain from this old horror movie?”

Even in the dim yellow light of the porch, you could see the man’s cheeks turn pink while he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. But he was hiding a smile behind his palm and when he caught your eye, there was humor in the depths of his gaze.

“Yeah, I get that sometimes,” he said, his voice suddenly lower. “Bucky Barnes from Slasher, right?”

You nodded, almost mesmerized as you stared into his eyes. “I had the biggest crush on him,” you admitted, because apparently the filter between your brain and mouth had been left on the rug in your grandmother’s basement. But the man only chuckled, the light flush fading from his face.

“Did you now?” he asked, his eyes shimmering with humor as he looked at your face, his gaze raking over the curve of your lips. He shifted closer to the door and a shiver skated down your spine at the way he loomed over you. “Y’know, my friends have called me Bucky ever since we watched that movie one summer when were idiot kids.”

“Y-your name’s Bucky?” you asked, excitement making your voice come out like a whisper.

The man looked to the side and chuckled, the sound low and rich and making you want to giggle ridiculously and kick your feet. When his gaze found yours again, his eyes were sparkling with playfulness and something more; his mouth was curved into a devastatingly charming grin.

“No, my name is James Barnes, but pretty much everyone calls me Bucky.” He watched you absorb this information, shifting even closer to the door until you could feel the warmth of him seeping through the screen. “Would you like to call me Bucky, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice pitching so low and deep, you could feel it between your thighs.

Your shoulders trembled as you shivered, nodding eagerly as you whispered, “Yes, please.”

Bucky rumbled a pleased sound, and his hand raised toward the screen, like he was reaching for you. But then he paused, as if catching himself. Huffing a laugh, he drew his hand back and wiped it down his face, seemingly forcing himself to straighten and take a step back.

You almost whined in protest, but caught yourself at the last second, biting your lip against a frown as he moved away. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had drifted to each other through the door until he was pulling away. You understood it was probably weird, the way you were acting with each other considering you just met, but the chemistry between you was palpable, and you desperately wanted to explore it as soon as possible.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I have the mask,” Bucky confessed, breaking you free from your thoughts.

You were glad for it, because he was giving you another loaded look and you felt your belly swoop, butterflies taking flight as he smiled at you. It took a second to process his words, and when you did, you couldn’t help the impish grin that spread across your face. You gestured for him to go on.

“I bought it for a girl I was seeing who said she wanted to roleplay,” he went on, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking off to the side again, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be telling this to a girl he just met, but couldn’t help himself. “But I think I scared her off.” He turned his penetrating gaze back to you, pinning you in place while you held your breath. “You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who scares easily.”

You snorted again and tossed your head. That was an understatement, if your dream was any indication of your desires—which it was. You gave the man called Bucky a cheeky smile. “No, I’m definitely not,” you told him, a hint of a challenge in your tone.

For a long moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. Then, you made a slightly reckless decision. Your hand reached for the latch of the screen door and pushed it open, all while holding his gaze.

“Why don’t you come in and get that coffee you needed,” you offered, hoping your instincts about Bucky were right, and he would turn out to be exactly the kind of man you wanted in your life. Besides, you told yourself, your grandmother liked him well enough to lend him some coffee—and you trusted her judgement so he must be a decent guy. “And you can tell me what about your roleplay frightened off that girl.”

Bucky’s smile spread into a full-on grin, and he eagerly grabbed the door, opening it wider while he stepped forward. When you didn’t move back right away and instead allowed him to step into your personal space, his gaze dropped to your mouth, his eyes darkening and the corners of his mouth twitching in another smile.

“Deal,” he rumbled. “So long as you tell me more about this crush of yours.”

The memories of your dream flitted through your mind, feeling more real than any dream you’d ever had before, and you found you couldn’t wait to tell Bucky about it. The man in front of you was warmer and kinder than the one you’d met in your dreams, but you had a feeling he had a dark side that liked to come out to play—just like you.

“Deal.” After you said the word, you felt as if something truly special was beginning and your heart raced with excitement as you stared up into Bucky’s handsome face. Both of you were grinning like idiots.

Finally taking a step back, you welcomed Bucky into your grandmother’s house, knowing deep in your bones that you were going to be in each other’s lives for a very long time—possibly even forever. And you couldn’t help but think that having this Bucky Barnes was even better than dreaming about your horror movie villain crush. After all, at least he was real.

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buckyalpine · 3 months ago

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18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-

Oop-

It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.

It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"

Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.

She'd always take care of him.

Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.

You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.

"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.

He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.

"B-Baby?"

"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.

God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.

"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"

"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-

"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-

"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-

"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.

I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.

"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.

"Um, sometimes baby"

Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.

"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"

"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"

Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.

"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"

"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.

"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"

"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"

"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-

He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.

Lord I'm sorry.

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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago

Note

Kook!Reader x Rafe Cameron where Sofia flirts with Rafe not knowing he’s taken until you come by and make it known that Rafe is all yours 🤭🤭🤭

She want me bad || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: ooh I love writing these 😝😝

Warnings: r is kind of a bitch in this one, sorry not sorry (not proofread)

Word count: 683

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe’s leg bounced restlessly under the table as Sofia chatted away; her words barely registering in his head. He glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time, his thoughts drifting to when you would arrive.

His attention kept wandering back to Topper and Kelce, who were across the room, snickering and exchanging glances that made Rafe roll his eyes at their antics.

Sofia’s voice broke through his haze. “So, uh, do you have any plans on Saturday?” Rafe blinked, momentarily lost. “Huh?” Sofia smiled, slightly amused. “I asked if you had any plans for Saturday.”

Rafe rubbed his hand over his buzz cut, trying to clear his thoughts. “Uh…” He started to respond but his words faltered as he smelt the familiar, soothing scent of your signature perfume. A pair of manicured hands began to glide down his neck and chest. The sensation made a smile spread across Rafe’s face.

You stood behind him, your hands lightly resting on his neck. As he leaned his head back, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Hi gorgeous,” he said, his voice soft and warm as you leaned in to kiss him. “Hi handsome,” you replied, chuckling softly against his lips.

Sofia watched in stunned silence, her mouth slightly agape as the reality of the situation sank in. Rafe’s attention was now completely absorbed by you, his earlier annoyance and disinterest melting away.

You lifted your head, meeting Sofia’s gaze with a subtle, confident smirk. “Sofia, right?” you asked, as you smoothly moved around the seat to settle beside Rafe.“Yeah,” she responded, her voice trailing off as she nodded slowly, her eyes darting between you and Rafe.

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze sharp and assessing. “I thought pogues weren’t allowed at these types of parties.” Sofia’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, her unease evident. “I, uh—was invited here, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing your face. “Really? And who might have invited you?” Sofia swallowed, her gaze flickering nervously. “Sarah.” At that, a loud scoff escaped Rafe’s lips, drawing both your and Sofia’s attention. You glanced at Rafe, who looked amused by the exchange, before turning back to Sofia.

“I didn’t realise you were close with Sarah,” you said, your tone both curious and slightly challenging. Sofia nodded, her discomfort palpable as she fidgeted with her skirt. “Well, it was nice talking to you.”

With a graceful motion, you stood up, and Rafe followed suit, smoothing down the back of your dress with a gesture that was both intimate and possessive. “Rafe, let’s go get a drink,” you said, your tone casual yet commanding. Rafe’s grin widened as he offered you his arm. “Gladly.”

As the two of you walked away, Sofia watched, her expression a mix of surprise and discomfort. The atmosphere around her seemed to close in, the awkwardness of the encounter lingering in the air.

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charliemwrites · 4 months ago

Text

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something.

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal.

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle.

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #men at work fic #neighbor au #nikto cod #cod krueger #cod konig #polyamory

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 10 days ago

Text

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 3

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder, dark romance trope, read at your own discretion, brief mention of smut at the very end.

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He’s ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Updates with this story are slow because I really care about it, and I want to do it justice.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three.

Each session with Sukuna left the counselor wanting more. He had to give to the prisoner: he was a phenomenal story teller. Sukuna was generally antisocial. He only conversed with others if he felt like he would gain something out of the conversation, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t incredibly charismatic.

Anyone with eyes could tell that Sukuna knew how to work a room to his advantage. Hell, his trial was basically an event for all of his fangirls. He had been turned into an idol by the press.

Unhealthy, sick individuals praised his actions. They edited his mugshots to look all cutesy. It felt like every chronically online young woman wanted to be you in this situation.

People tried finding out your true identity, but your name had been scrubbed from the media completely. Your name was a privilege to know. The counselor merely knew it because he had looked through the warrants and made copies of them before they were sealed away.

The counselor had been busy since his last session with Sukuna. He couldn’t get enough of Sukuna’s story. He went digging, trying to find you or anyone else from Sukuna’s past.

That was when he found out about Jin, Sukuna’s missing twin brother.

Immediately, the counselor had a gut feeling that Sukuna was to blame for this. He wasn’t stereotyping the prisoner, but if anyone went missing or dropped dead around Sukuna… he was usually the one to blame.

So when Sukuna came trudging back into the counselor’s office, shackles and cuffs jingling with each step, the counselor took note of Sukuna’s bloodied knuckles. It seems as if the prisoner had been busy this week too.

“What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” The counselor asked, promptly skipping all greetings and pleasantries. He and Sukuna were the type of men who loathed small talk anyways.

Sukuna plopped down on the couch, and he let out a hearty laugh from the counselor’s concerns. “Trouble seems to find me, doc.” He answered noncommittally, shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance.

“How so?” The counselor pressed lightly. After his first couple sessions with Sukuna, he had gotten a grasp as to just when to press on and when to back off.

Sukuna eyed his cuffed hands, looking at the dried up blood and scabbed over wounds on his knuckles. “You know newbies always come in looking for something to prove.”

That… made sense. Sukuna was a big man. In fact, he was the biggest man in his pod. The newbie inmates were always looking to fight the biggest fish in the pond to prove something. It never worked in their favor. Usually, they just became the big guy’s bitch.

“I’m surprised they don’t have you in solitary confinement then.” The counselor commented, relaxing in his chair. What an odd thing to do… relax in the face of a heinous criminal. This line of work had definitely jaded the counselor.

“Got out this morning.” He grumbled lowly, not caring to continue on with this conversation any longer. He came to these sessions to relive his memories of you, not to talk about stupid shit like the newbies in the jail.

“Lucky you.” The counselor commented as he flipped through a stack of papers. “Tell me about your brother, Sukuna.”

The pink-haired male immediately gritted his teeth together so hard that it was a wonder how he didn’t shatter them. His muscles tensed, and he eyed the counselor closely, trying to decide whether the counselor had gone mad or not.

“Considering you’re asking me, I assume you already know all about him.” Sukuna answered lowly. His dark gaze was unwavering.

“I only know that his name is Jin, and he’s missing.” The counselor responded. He kept his body language open, so Sukuna would know the he’s telling the truth.

“That’s all you need to know.”

“So, Jin never met mouse?” The counselor gently pressed.

Sukuna’s breath went eerily still as his teeth ground together. His lips twitched into a snarl. If looks could kill like Sukuna did, the counselor would be dead by now. “He did.” He answered shortly, suddenly not such a good story teller.

“You don’t seem like you were very fond of him. Why not?” The counselor asked carefully. He knew if he brought you up again, Sukuna would probably snap… then snap his neck in half, and he valued his neck remaining intact.

“Jin wasn’t the star pupil everyone made him out to be. Only I knew his true nature.” Sukuna replied. He was still tense, but he at least wasn’t on the verge of catching another murder charge. It’s not like it mattered anyways. What’s one more charge? He’s serving life already.

“Everyone treated him like a star pupil?” The counselor asked, clicking his pen to start taking case notes. He was finally getting somewhere this session. Sukuna’s sessions were way too short already. The jail was too afraid of him having too much time to hurt somebody, so he was only allowed to have 20-minute sessions before he was escorted straight back to his pod.

“Tch. Everyone fucking adored him, never spoke an ill word ‘bout him.” Sukuna explained. “Our parents didn’t know they were having twins until after he was born, and I was coming out shortly after. He was the firstborn — the one they were expecting, the one that they cared about. I was just a surprise mistake compared to Jin. They had to scramble to make ends meet.”

The counselor stayed silent for a moment. It was apparent Sukuna likely lacked any parental love or guidance. His parents probably saw him as a burden. That would fuck anyone up in the head.

“Jin was their son. I was the reason for their financial struggles and stress. It didn’t help that Jin apparently came out malnourished as fuck, while I was a healthy baby. I apparently hogged all of the nutrients. It was a wonder why I didn’t just absorb him in the womb. Compared to Jin, my parents thought I was a soul-sucking leech.” Sukuna spoke with very little emotion in his voice. He wasn’t sad or even scorned. It simply just was something he dealt with.

“Did that bother you… seeing Jin receive love from your parents?” The counselor asked, attempting to gain some insight to Sukuna’s feelings on everything.

“Fuck no. I couldn’t care less. It was honestly a blessing that our parents paid me no mind. It made it easier to do whatever the hell I wanted without being bothered.” Sukuna answered confidently. His amused expression slowly coming back to him.

“That four-eyed freak could have our parents’ affection. I only gave a damn about mouse.” He added, picking some lint off of his jumpsuit.

“So, how did Jin meeting mouse lead to him going missing?” The counselor pressed, giving Sukuna a look. He knew this scenario all too well. Sukuna didn’t take well to sharing you, and if Jin got too close to you, well…

“You’re not as stupid as you seem, doc.” Sukuna said with a reserved grin. He leaned his head back against the couch, revealing his sculpted jaw along with his adam’s apple. Sukuna’s neck tattoo was playing peek-a-boo from his jumpsuit.

“Thanks?” The counselor asked with a hesitant scoff, causing Sukuna to grin more.

“You’re skipping a few chapters though.” Sukuna added as he finally found his reprieve in living out his memories with you. “When she was 16, mouse finally opened up to the idea of being mine. It only took a few instances to make her realize she wasn’t getting rid of me, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to find another who cherishes her like I do.”

The counselor knew Sukuna was leaving out key details with his “instances” like… the time he strangled a guy within an inch of his life for asking you out on a date, or the time that he tied down another guy to his motorcycle and drug him down a gravel road for giving you a very romantic valentine’s day gift, OR the time he nearly shoved a tattoo gun into his artist’s eye for hitting on you right in front of him.

“So, you two became official when she was 16?” The counselor prompted as he jotted more notes down on his notepad.

“Nope.” Sukuna replied with a toothy grin to the counselor’s surprise. “We made an oath to each other. Exclusivity. She nor I could see anyone else.” The prisoner explained, only confusing the counselor even more.

“So, you two were committed to each other, but you weren’t… romantically involved?” The counselor asked with furrowed eyebrows. It made no sense for Sukuna’s m.o. Sukuna loved through possession, owning someone. He also didn’t like sharing. There was no reason for him not to make you commit to him romantically.

“Mouse is.. a bit younger than I am by nearly two years. She was 16, and I was about to turn 18 soon. Her birthday fell in that weird timing for school, and I was held back in first grade. That’s how we ended up in the same class.” Sukuna explained, but it still made no sense in the counselor’s mind. “I knew if I made her mine when she was 16, I wouldn’t have wanted to hold back. So, in my oath, I promised to take her and give her all of me when she was 18.”

Now, that made sense.

In Sukuna’s twisted logic and severely skewed morals, he thought he was protecting you by making you wait until you were 18 to finally be official with him.

“That must’ve been hard to wait that long for her.” The counselor commented, unsure of what to say.

Sukuna shot him a warning glare. “I’d wait a century for her.” He responded in a low growl. It was a clear indication to not make anymore comments regarding you in that manner.

The counselor back-tracked, not wanting to lose Sukuna’s feeble trust. “So, what does this have anything to do with Jin?”

Sukuna relaxed with a low huff, and he sat back in his seat as he went back to telling his story. “Jin got whatever the fuck he wanted: money, girls, popularity, and he didn’t like someone having anything he didn’t.” He explained to the counselor.

“Mouse had just recently turned 18. It was our senior prom night, and I had plans to show her exactly how patient and disciplined I had been for two years.”

“You don’t seem like the type to go to prom.” The counselor commented in an amused tone.

“I only went because mouse wanted to go. She wanted one last opportunity at being a normal teenager… whatever that meant.” Sukuna explained. His expression seemed to falter to more of a thoughtful one. The counselor began to wonder if Sukuna ever regretted subjecting you to his depraved nature.

“Jin was, of course, elected prom king. He wouldn’t have accepted less, and some bitches thought it’d be funny to rig the ballot to have mouse win. They wanted to publicly humiliate her while she was on stage, knowing she still struggled talking publicly.” Sukuna went on, and slowly, the pieces started to fit together.

“I was going to create a scene, take the heat away from her, but Jin decided to take manners into his own hands and thank everyone on her behalf… as if he fucking knew her well enough to do that.”

“I was going to try to hold it in. It was just one dance with Jin. Then, I could take her home and claim her. I just had to watch one dance, but Jin knew this would be the only fucking time he had the upper hand on me. It wasn’t enough that he had our parents under his thumb. He wanted the one fucking thing that was mine and mine alone.”

A shiver went up the counselor’s back as he watched Sukuna closely. The prisoner was seething, clenching his cuffed hands together so hard that his knuckles were popping in agony. His jaw was clamped shut as he remembered what it was like to see Jin dance with you.

The counselor had seen Sukuna mad, but this was pure rage.

“What did he do, Sukuna..?” The counselor asked shakily as the air in the room was so tense. The counselor knew that their twenty minutes were coming to an end, but he hoped to god the guards got distracted so Sukuna could finish his story.

Sukuna’s breath was ragged as he recalled the memory. “His hand kept fuckin’ wandering to places it didn’t belong. I couldn’t hear him talkin’ in her ear, but I could read his lips. He was talking about some fucking after party, and he was trying to convince her to ditch his “degenerate freak little brother”. He said he’d show her a good time.”

“I was going to let it slide for the sake of not wanting to ruin mouse’s last night in high school. One fucking dance. I knew mouse wasn’t going to agree to any of that, not after we had promised ourselves to each other, but the fucker was persistent. He grabbed her arm and tried to lead her back to where his table of fucking losers were sat. She tried to pull away, but he knew he was stronger than her.” Sukuna shook his head, picking at the scabs on his knuckles to make himself bleed. It was almost a release from the pure anger he felt as he remembered that night.

“What did you do to him, Sukuna?” The counselor quietly prompted.

Sukuna’s eyes met his, and he bit the side of his cheek for a moment as if he was deciding whether he wanted to admit to yet another crime. He knew he was protected under patient confidentiality, but he had never admitted to Jin’s disappearance — not even to you.

“I dragged him out of the school. There was a pig farm behind the school. The electric fence was made out of metal. The fence posts were sharp on the top. We got to arguing about mouse. He kept asking why I cared about a little piece of ass when I didn’t care about anything else.” Sukuna continued picking at his scabs. His movement was almost compulsive to a degree.

“He said she deserved a normal life — not one that I could give her. He fucking… he fucking called it, said I’d either end up dead or in jail. Then, he made the fucking mistake of saying he’d be there to take good care of her while I’m gone.”

There was a beat of silence between the two. The counselor knew what was coming next, so he braced himself for Sukuna to describe the murder.

“I bashed his fucking head into the metal stake. He immediately died, impaled straight through his brain. I then fed his body to the pigs. I fabricated evidence to make it look like he left prom early to go meet up with a girl down in Shibuya. I buried his bones and teeth down in a graveyard after the groundskeeper inevitably fell asleep while he was on watch.”

The counselor had to bite back the urge to throw up his lunch. The food was crawling up his esophagus. He couldn’t even formulate the words to say in response. Sukuna was truly a monster for you. He had killed his own flesh and blood for insinuating that he could take you away from him.

That wasn’t even why he was caught. Jin was still on the missing persons list. His remains had never been recovered. His parents likely mourned Jin, and they had no idea it was their other son who killed him.

Sukuna leaned in, speaking with a feral grin. “I went back to mouse in the early hours of the morning, took a long shower, and fucked her until dawn, making sure she knew inside and out who the fuck she belongs to.”

“Ryomen! Times up! Let’s go!” The buzzer rang loudly in the counselor’s office, causing for him to flinch in his seat.

The counselor should’ve known better than to go digging around in Sukuna’s past. He got what he asked for. He knew that he would have to delve in to the murder that actually got him caught next session, and that terrified him even more.

Taglist: @catladythoughts @pinky0328 @coldluminarykoala @lemonlimecrystal-blog @san-it-is-i-guess @kunasthiast @nonamevenus @ecliipzed @jup1tersuccubus @gojodickbig @totallygyomeiswife @gremlinartstudio @tojislittleprincesss @jaybirdluvr73 @emyyy007 @b3bybunny @unofficialsapphire @thequeenofcurses @canecomplex @sukubusss @satosugu4-ever @theonlyhonoredone @eravariety @kaged-kitty @stargirl-mayaa @jinxiewritings @startwithrecords @nikki-demi @samoankpoper21 @grinnwolph @mizuwki @cisseadven @meandmyhomieshateshibuya @gradmacoco @lolololololhanma @theuclid @uma0777

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evilgwrl · 4 months ago

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DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! 18+

CW: Dark!Simon Riley, stalker simon, non-con somnophilia/non-con touching, non-con voyeurism, killing, THIS IS NOT A CUTE FIC !!!

Stalker!Simon Riley who first noticed you at a cafe he frequented whenever he was home from deployment

Stalker!Simon Riley immediately needing you as his the moment he saw your pretty, feminine smile

Stalker!Simon Riley following you to your work one day and pretending he needed help finding a specific book solely so he could speak to you

Stalker!Simon Riley following you home after your shift and hiding out in the dark across the road, his cock chubbing in his pants at you forgetting to close your blinds, delicate skin on display

Stalker!Simon Riley finding out all your personal details through his job, completely invading your privacy

Stalker!Simon Riley jumping for joy when he killed your neighbour simply so he could move in next door to you (plus it made rent a lot cheaper)

Stalker!Simon Riley breaking into your house one day just to steal your used panties, wrapping them around his cock later that night before cumming in them and returning them to your laundry basket a day later

Stalker!Simon Riley breaking into your house and stealing your spare key so he doesn’t have to keep going to all that trouble with his lock pick

Stalker!Simon Riley entering your house while you slept, taking in your sleeping figure as he pulled your top up to reveal your bare chest, nipples hardening at the cold as he tweaks them under his fingers

Stalker!Simon Riley pulling your panties down before cumming in them and pulling them back up

Stalker!Simon Riley being there for you when you cry to him about how strange things have been happening and you just need someone to keep you safe

#evilgwrl #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #dark!simon Riley #ghost #ghost smut #simon Riley #simon Riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #dead dove do not eat #141 smut #141 au

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mssalo · 2 months ago

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dirty old man - the doctor’s office

When the doctor steps out, Joel wastes no time pulling you onto his face, turning the check-up into a filthy game of control and desire.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, age gap, caretaker f!reader, Joel is a perverted old man (imagined age 60-70), reader in her 20s, DDLG dynamic, daddy kink, exhibitionism, oral (female receiving), public setting (doctor’s office), risk of being caught, degradation, size difference, explicit sexual content, perverted/dirty talk.

more dirty old man in masterlist

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The sterile smell of the doctor's office felt like the most routine part of your day—a place you and Joel had visited plenty of times for his regular check-ups.

But underneath the fluorescent lights and the ordinary medical examination, there was a palpable tension, one that had nothing to do with Joel's health and everything to do with the dynamic you’d built together.

Joel lay back on the examination table, his shirt off as the doctor began his usual routine, prodding and listening to his chest, but Joel's attention was far from the doctor’s hands.

“Gotta say, Joel,” the doctor began, flipping through his notes. “Your physical condition has improved since your last few visits. I can tell you're in much better shape—more flexibility, blood pressure’s stabilizing. Whatever routine you've been following, it’s working wonders.”

Joel’s eyes darted over to you, and that familiar, mischievous smirk curled at the edges of his mouth.

“Well, doc,” he drawled slowly, “that’s all thanks to my new caretaker here.” His eyes locked onto yours, the look in them full of filthy innuendo. “She’s been keepin' me on my toes.”

Your face flushed instantly, heat rushing to your cheeks as the doctor glanced over at you, completely unaware of the real reason behind Joel’s improved health.

You gave a nervous, awkward laugh, trying to hide the growing embarrassment bubbling up inside you.

"Yeah, well... I try to help as much as I can," you stammered, your voice shaky under the weight of Joel’s smoldering gaze.

The doctor smiled, oblivious, and nodded. "Well, it shows. You’ve done a great job," he said. “It’s rare for someone Joel’s age to make such improvements so quickly. Whatever you're doing, keep it up.”

You forced a smile, trying to maintain professionalism, but Joel’s smirk was growing, his eyes gleaming with that dark satisfaction, fully enjoying the way you squirmed.

"Yeah," Joel muttered, his voice low and teasing. "She’s been real good to me, doc. Keeps me movin’, keeps me... motivated." His eyes lingered on you as he said it, making your heart pound even harder.

You bit your lip, trying to avoid eye contact, but the flush on your cheeks deepened. You knew exactly what Joel was hinting at, and so did he.

The doctor was completely unaware of the layers behind Joel’s words, but you could feel the tension building between you, the silent promises in Joel's gaze making it impossible for you to focus.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s clearly working,” the doctor continued, glancing down at his clipboard. “Your heart rate’s better, blood pressure is steady, and your muscle tone has improved. Honestly Joel, for your age, you’re in remarkable shape.”

Joel chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending a ripple of heat through your body.

The doctor glanced at his clipboard, then gave Joel a brief smile. “I’ll need to step out for a moment to check something with the nurse,” he said casually, already turning toward the door.

As soon as the doctor stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him, Joel wasted no time. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with that familiar possessive grip.

His smirk was wicked, curling at the corners of his lips as he yanked you closer, pulling you between his legs.

“Come here,” he growled, his voice low and rough, already thick with need. His eyes raked over your body, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt up with rough urgency.

“No fuckin' panties, just like I told ya. Good girl. Now get up here and sit that sweet pussy on my face.”

Your breath hitched, and you glanced nervously at the door, your heart racing.

“Joel… we’re in a doctor’s office,” you whispered, trying to sound logical, but the heat between your legs was already giving you away.

“Don’t give a damn,” he muttered, his hands tightening on your hips, pulling you closer until you were standing right in front of him. “I’ve been thinkin’ about your cunt all fuckin' day. Now, I’m gonna have it.”

The way he talked to you—filthy, raw, unapologetically possessive—set your body alight with anticipation.

You hesitated for just a moment longer before finally giving in, climbing up onto the examination table. Your hands shook slightly as you straddled his chest, your bare folds hovering over his face, already slick with arousal.

“Fuckin' look at you,” Joel growled as he pulled you down, his breath hot against your dripping core.

“You’re so wet, baby. This pussy’s fuckin' soaked for me.” He slid his hands around your hips, gripping them tight as he positioned you just where he wanted you.

“I wanna see every part of you, darlin’. Spread those legs nice and wide for me.”

Your legs trembled as you obeyed, spreading yourself open for him, your wet, swollen clit exposed to his hungry eyes. He groaned, his breath ragged with lust as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly.

“Goddamn, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick and rough. “Look at how swollen that little clit is. You’ve been waitin' for this, haven’t ya?”

Without waiting for a response, Joel’s tongue flicked out, the first slow, deliberate stroke dragging over your clit.

You gasped, your fingers gripping the edge of the exam table as your body jolted with pleasure. He wasn’t gentle—his mouth latched onto you, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over your clit with rough, practiced strokes.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you tried to stay quiet.

The obscene sounds of his mouth on you filled the small room, wet and slick, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Joel groaned against you, the vibrations sending a shiver through your entire body. “This fuckin' pussy,” he growled between licks, his words muffled as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue lapping greedily over you.

“Tastes so goddamn good. I could fuckin' drown in it.”

You moaned softly, your thighs trembling as his tongue flicked over your swollen clit again, faster this time, more insistent. He sucked hard, drawing your sensitive bud into his mouth, then flicked his tongue over it in rapid, merciless strokes.

You could feel your pulse pounding between your legs, your body already trembling with the need to come.

“Fuck, Joel… we have to—” you gasped, but he cut you off with a growl, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled you down harder onto his face.

“Shut the fuck up and ride my face,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “I don’t care if we’re in a fuckin’ doctor’s office. I’m gonna make you come all over my mouth.”

You could barely think straight. The filthy heat of his words, the way his mouth moved on you, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body—it was too much.

Your hips started to rock against him, grinding down on his face as his tongue slid in and out of you, his rough hands guiding your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel muttered between licks, his voice thick with hunger as his tongue dragged slowly up and down your folds, swirling around your swollen clit before dipping back down to tease your entrance.

“Fuck my face. Show me how much you need it. How much you love when daddy eats this sweet little cunt.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down even harder against his mouth. His tongue was everywhere—messy, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough.

He flicked your clit with his tongue again, but then he shifted lower, dragging his tongue along your slit, tasting every inch of you. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and Joel could feel how badly you wanted it, how soaked you already were.

He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as his face pressed further into your slick heat, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue explored every part of you.

He wasn't satisfied with just licking—he wanted to bury himself in you, use his whole face to make you come. And that’s exactly what he did.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

His tongue moved lower, teasing the edges of your entrance before plunging inside, fucking you with slow, deep strokes.

You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sides of the exam table as your hips rocked against his face. Joel’s grip on your hips tightened, keeping you in place as he lapped at your pussy like a man starved.

But it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. He pulled his tongue out of your hole, dragging it back up to your clit, where he sucked hard before letting go, only to press his entire face against your folds, rubbing it all over your pussy.

His nose nudged your clit, his lips sucking at your wetness, and his tongue slipping everywhere—flicking your clit, sliding between your folds, teasing your hole again and again.

He was relentless, his whole face working against you, his stubble rubbing against your sensitive skin, adding a rough, delicious friction.

You gasped, your body trembling from the intensity of it, and Joel only groaned louder, his tongue darting in and out of your hole before sliding back up to your clit, flicking it in rapid strokes.

“You love this, don’t ya?” he rasped, his voice muffled as he pressed his mouth back to your pussy, his tongue swirling over your clit, his nose bumping against it as he ground his face into you.

“Love when daddy uses his whole fuckin’ face on this pretty little cunt. You’re fuckin’ dripping for me, baby. I’m gonna make you come all over my face.”

Your breath hitched, your hips bucking against him, the pressure building inside you as his face moved everywhere—tongue fucking you deep one second, then sucking on your clit the next. He loved every part of you, and he made sure you knew it.

His mouth, his nose, his whole face was slick with your arousal as he devoured you, using everything he had to make you come.

Joel pulled his tongue out of your hole, dragging it up your slit again, swirling it around your clit before pressing his mouth down hard.

He sucked, his lips closing tightly around your clit as he flicked his tongue over it in quick, teasing strokes. You whimpered, your body trembling as you tried to stay quiet, but it was impossible with how good he was making you feel.

“Fuck, Joel…” you gasped, your voice shaking as the pleasure grew, every nerve in your body on fire from the way his mouth moved over you, claiming you. “I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growled, his voice low and commanding, his tongue never stopping. “Come on my fuckin’ face, baby. I want it all. I wanna taste every drop.”

His words sent a shiver through you, and with one final flick of his tongue over your clit, you came hard.

Your thighs clenched around his head as your orgasm crashed through you, and Joel groaned in satisfaction, his hands holding you firmly in place as he continued licking, drinking in every bit of your release.

“That’s it, good girl,” he muttered, his lips still pressed to your pussy, his tongue slowly dragging through your folds, savoring the taste of you. “You come so fuckin’ sweet for me.”

Your body trembled, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, but Joel wasn’t done.

His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing them gently as his mouth moved over you again, slower this time, but just as hungry.

He rubbed his whole face into your slick folds, his nose brushing your clit while his tongue teased your entrance. He wanted to make you come again, and he was determined to get it.

“Fuck, I could eat you all day,” he groaned, pulling back just long enough to look up at you with dark, lust-filled eyes before diving back in, his tongue sliding deep inside you again.

He fucked you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit, his mouth wet and messy as he devoured you, completely lost in the taste of you.

“You’re mine,” he growled between licks, his voice low and possessive as he slid his tongue out of you, flicking it over your clit again.

“This pussy is fuckin’ mine.”

You were barely holding on, your body trembling as another orgasm built inside you, the sensation of his face rubbing against your wet heat sending you over the edge.

Joel could feel it—could feel the way your body tightened, the way your breath hitched, and he sucked your clit into his mouth again, his tongue swirling over it in quick, dirty strokes.

"Come again," Joel growled, his voice dark and full of filthy satisfaction. "Come all over my fuckin' face again, baby. Don’t hold back."

You couldn’t. The pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, and you came again, harder this time, your hips grinding down onto his face as your body shook with the intensity of it.

Joel groaned beneath you, his tongue still lapping at your pussy, his whole face drenched in your slick as he continued fucking you with his mouth until you couldn’t take it anymore.

"Look at you," he rasped, his voice hoarse but smug, pulling back just enough to smirk up at you. His face was soaked, his lips shiny with your release, and the sight of him like that—dark eyes, glistening mouth—made your stomach tighten all over again.

"Can’t fuckin’ get enough, can ya? Rubbing that sweet little pussy all over an old man’s face."

His words dripped with possessiveness, but there was a teasing warmth behind them. Joel wasn’t disgusted by how much you needed him—no, he was fucking proud.

Proud of how you responded to him, how desperate and soaked you became under his tongue.

You whimpered softly, still trembling, the shame and arousal mixing together in a heady cocktail of need.

"Joel, we’re gonna get caught," you murmured, your breath still shaky.

He chuckled, low and dirty, his hands never leaving your hips as he kept you pinned down.

"Let ‘em catch us," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "Let ‘em see how fuckin’ perfect you look sittin’ on daddy’s face. Maybe they’ll wanna take a fuckin' picture—show everyone how much this sweet young thing needs me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the risk, the dirtiness of it all making your heart race.

You were already drenched, but hearing him talk like that—pushing the boundary between pleasure and danger—made you even wetter, your body responding before your mind could catch up.

“They’d love to see you like this, wouldn’t they?” Joel muttered, his tongue darting out to swipe at your swollen folds, sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through your already sensitive body.

"Bet they’d be jealous. Bet they’d wanna taste you too, but you’re mine, hm, baby?"

You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as his hands squeezed your hips, forcing you to grind harder against his mouth.

His nose brushed your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as his tongue teased your entrance again, slipping in and out with slow, deliberate strokes.

"You’re all mine," Joel groaned, his words muffled as he pressed his face deeper into your wetness.

“Fuckin’ made for daddy, pretty one. Look how fuckin' soaked you are, baby. Ridin' this old man’s face like you need it to breathe."

Your whole body shuddered as his tongue pushed deeper inside you, fucking you with slow, sensual strokes.

He wasn’t just eating you out—he was worshiping you, using every part of his face to drive you crazy.

His nose bumped against your clit as he flicked his tongue in and out of your tight entrance, his lips wrapping around your folds, sucking and licking like he couldn’t get enough of you.

"God, Joel..." you gasped, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding against him, desperate for more.

The idea of someone walking in, seeing you like this—spread wide, riding Joel’s face while he devoured you—it sent a thrill through you that made your heart race even faster.

"That's it," he muttered, his voice rough and dirty as his hands guided your movements.

"You like this, sweet girl? You love letting daddy take care of you, love how I make you feel. Doesn’t matter where we are—you’ll always be fuckin' mine."

But Joel wasn’t finished. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, his mouth still teasing your swollen, oversensitive clit with slow, lazy licks, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

"Joel, I..." you whimpered, your voice weak and breathless. "I can’t—"

"You can and you fuckin' will," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "One more, baby. Come one more time for daddy. Show me how much you love ridin' this old man’s face.”

His filthy words sent another shock of heat straight to your core, and before you could stop yourself, you were grinding harder, your slick pussy rubbing all over his face.

Joel groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it in quick, tight circles that had you seeing stars.

“Good girl,” he murmured between licks, his voice full of pride and lust.

“You’re so fuckin' perfect, baby. So tight, so full of energy for me. Daddy loves it when you let me eat this pussy like it’s the last thing I’ll ever taste.”

His tongue flicked over your clit faster, his hands keeping you steady as your thighs trembled around his head.

You were so close again, the pressure building inside you, threatening to overwhelm you. Joel’s mouth moved with expert precision, teasing, sucking, licking—his entire face covered in your slick, his stubble rubbing against your sensitive skin in the most delicious way.

"Come for me again," Joel growled, his tone shifting to something more commanding. "I wanna feel it. I wanna taste it all. Don’t fuckin' hold back, baby."

You moaned, your hips rocking harder against his mouth as the pleasure built higher, higher, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

The tension snapped, and your third orgasm crashed through you, even harder than the last. Your thighs squeezed around Joel’s head, your hands gripping the edges of the exam table for support as your body shook with the intensity of your release.

Joel groaned beneath you, his tongue still working over your clit, licking up every last drop as you came all over his face.

His grip on your hips was unrelenting, making sure you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Joel muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You come so fuckin’ pretty for me, baby. Just like that. Give daddy everything.”

You collapsed forward, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the last waves of your orgasm pulsed through you.

Joel groaned beneath you, drinking in every last drop of your release, his hands gripping you tightly as he licked you through your climax, his tongue unrelenting.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, finally pulling back, his face a mess of your slick, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, baby. We ain’t done, though. When we get home, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be beggin' for more."

Your body trembled, still coming down from the intensity of your orgasms, but the look in Joel’s eyes told you he wasn’t lying.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smirk playing on his wet, glistening lips as he watched you try to gather yourself.

But before either of you could speak, there was a sudden knock on the door.

Your heart leaped into your throat, and you scrambled off Joel’s chest, yanking your skirt down as quickly as possible.

Panic coursed through you as you hurried to adjust yourself, smoothing your hair, trying to catch your breath.

Joel, of course, was far too amused. He wiped his face lazily, still leaning back on the exam table, that smug smirk never leaving his face as you frantically tried to make it look like nothing had happened.

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he glanced at the door, clearly not concerned in the slightest.

"Come in," Joel called out casually, his voice hoarse but steady, as if he hadn’t just been buried between your legs moments ago.

The doctor walked back in, clipboard in hand, giving Joel a quick glance. "Sorry about the wait, Mr. Miller," he said, then paused as he noticed Joel’s flushed face, the sheen of wetness still visible despite his attempt to wipe it away.

The doctor blinked, clearly taken aback but too polite to say anything directly.

"Must be gettin' hot in here, huh?" the doctor remarked with a chuckle, trying to laugh off the awkwardness.

"This age, it’s making us all feel a bit warmer, huh? Happens to the best of us."

Joel, the devilish smirk never leaving his face, tilted his head slightly, catching your eye for just a second before replying, "Oh, you could say that, doc. It definitely gets me feelin’... hotter than usual."

His tone was thick with double meaning, so much so that you had to suppress a smile.

The doctor, oblivious to the real reason behind Joel’s flustered state, simply nodded and made some notes on his clipboard.

"Well, let’s make sure everything’s looking good. Just a quick check-up, and you’ll be out of here."

Joel shot you a look as the doctor moved to his side, leaning in to examine him.

His eyes twinkled with filthy satisfaction, his lips twitching as though he was barely holding back another comment.

"Yeah," Joel said quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. "Feelin’ better already."

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…..I dont know what to tell y’all 😭

I’m glad some of you like older!Joel 🫶🏼 I love reading your comments and reblog notes - thank you so much!!

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docdudo · 1 month ago

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Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader (Part 2)

“Aww, look at these sparks…” Gaz coos gently, watching your scared little figure curled up in the back of the nest as you try your best to use your magic to keep them away. “For a baby witch? Isn’t that just precious?”

A heavy grunt scares you enough for your magic to just die right then and there, your head whipping to the side where the big bastard of a familiar was sitting. His body looked completely relaxed, arms crossed and eyes focused on your little form curled against the wall.

“Careful, little witch,” Ghost warns, voice low and heavy, making you just stare at him with even more terror. “Might get hurt.”

“Ow, just let the lassie get everything out, she’s scared.” Soap smiles big, laying down on his belly, looking up at you with both hands holding his head up like a teenage girl in love or something.

He was so close to your curled-up legs too, almost asking for a kick in his face.

“We’re such good familiars, baby. No need to try to harm us,” Gaz coos again, crawling a little closer to your little form.

His movement was enough to startle you, magic immediately coming to life as your hands sparked hot red for a second.

Only to die right away thanks to big, warm hands enveloping your little ones and forcing your magic down easily.

“Our strong baby witch,” Ghost rumbles in an animalistic way, his giant hands holding yours close to his chest now that he was by your side. “It’s okay, calm yourself. You can get hurt like this, darlin’.”

“M-My magic…!” you manage to exclaim, a mix of indignation and fear as you look up at his face with big, wide eyes.

“No guidance, no preparation, no form.” Price’s voice immediately alerts you, making you look at the end of the room where the oldest familiar was quietly preparing something on that stupid high table of his. “It is pretty incredible that you have such high-level magic for a baby witch with no Coven, but it’s not good to try and use your magic at any given time like this.”

“I-I can use—I know how to use my magic…!” you protest slightly, now more indignant than anything else, little hands still stuck in the bigger familiar’s grasp.

You pretend not to notice the way he was rubbing your hands gently, not letting go.

“Never said you couldn’t, doll,” Price smirks a little as he spares you a glance from his chair. “Just saying it’s not smart. Might get hurt; even experienced witches lose control of their magic from time to time.”

“And no one’s expecting a baby to have the best control, mo leanbh,” Soap adds, still laying down with a big, dumb smile plastered on his stupid face.

It made you annoyed enough to uncurl one of your legs and… kinda kick his face? Well, not kick, more like push his face to the side as you press your little foot to his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, though, a stupid grin as he lets you do as you want.

“Such a gentle little witch too…” Gaz mumbles, approaching once again to nuzzle against your side gently. Yeah, no, this jerk has to be a cat or something. “It has been ages since the last time I saw an actual baby witch….”

“They are always so well-hidden deep in Covens. A pity, too, that our last witch dinae take much interest in them.” Soap agrees easily, still not doing anything about your socked foot on his face.

You try to push him more, but he doesn’t really budge.

“Let go,” you grumble at Ghost, trying to free your hands as you glare (such a cute glare, he could look at your baby-ish, cute expression for decades) at him.

“Aww, but baby, what if you try to use your magic again?” And you know the second that you see the pout on Gaz’s lips that he’s mocking you. The audacity…!

“Boys, stop that, you’re going to overwhelm her—“

“G-Get away…!” You raise your voice a bit more, squirming against them, trying to free your hands from the restraining grip and trying to push the face against your foot farther from you.

And then you feel Soap grip your ankle. Gently, but he grips it nonetheless.

And then you’re crying, overwhelmed.

“Oh no, no, no, no, didn’t mean it, lassie!” Soap quickly lets go, getting up on his knees with a worried expression.

Ghost also lets your hands go, almost as if he was burned, and you immediately start to rub your face and eyes, sniffling as you try to contain your tears.

“I’m so sorry, hun, I’m sorry, I was being an asshole, wasn’t I…?” Gaz is also quick to apologize, lowering his body enough to be smaller than you as he bumps his head quietly against your arm, regret written all over his face.

Price lets out a heavy sigh from his chair, rubbing his face with the hand that isn’t working with something on the table.

“I know none of us are used to baby witches, but boys, you have to tone down. She’s not a mature witch; she can’t take your provocations like this.”

“Ah dinae even provoke…!” Soap immediately protests, hands hesitating around you as he tries to calm you down. “Gaz did it…!”

“Oh, shut it, Tav.” He growls quietly, shuffling a bit to your side as you keep sniffling and trying to control your tears.

And then, a black cat jumps onto your lap. A big, fluffy black cat. It confuses you for a second until you remember what familiars are, and you quietly settle down a little, hands hesitantly touching the cat now laying on top of your legs, looking up at you with big, yellow eyes.

The other familiars seem to calm down too as they see you calming down. Ghost is still unmoving by your side, but he doesn’t seem like a ball of anxiety anymore, and Soap also settles down in front of you, sitting on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

“Ghost, Soap, come ‘ere,” Price calls, approaching the nest now with what looks like four gold bands on his hands.

“Oh, we’re doing it already?” Soap asks, eyes big in excitement as he quickly grabs one of the gold bands. “Ah’ll start!”

You watch in almost shock as he quickly slashes a cut on his hand with just his long nails, rubbing his blood over the band before turning to you with a big, delighted grin, his hand coming up to gently, but firmly, pull your right leg closer to him.

“Johnny MacTavish, mah beirn.” And then, the band locks on your ankle, a flash of light blinding you for a second, your magic twisting inside of you in response to what you thought was his own magic coming into contact.

The cat jumps out of your lap in a quick movement, becoming a man in the span of a second and grabbing the other gold band, also swiping his nails against his arm to let his blood drip onto the gold.

“’M so sorry, sweetie, I’ll keep myself in check, yeah?” Gaz smiles gently, pulling your left leg forward with his hand. “Kyle Garrick.”

Another flash of light, another band locked in place, and once again, your magic twists inside you as soon as it comes into contact with his.

“Ugh…” You wince slightly, curling up a bit on yourself at the intense feeling.

“Is she hurting…?” Soap mumbles, unsure, looking at you worriedly.

“Probably a bit weirded out with some of our magic seeping through to hers…” Kyle says calmly, though he is also worried, pushing your hair a little out of your face.

“Even though we’re forcing the bond indirectly, she’s bound to feel some kind of discomfort…” Price nods, offering the third band to Ghost. “It would be way worse if we were actually doing the bond pact right off the bat. That’s for when she’s older.”

Ghost grunts as he bites down on his hand, rubbing the blood messily against the shining gold. You try to scoot away from him, but one of his hands immediately goes for your small back, pulling you close and grabbing your right arm.

“Simon Riley.” Immediately, the gold band locks on your wrist, a new wave of magic coming through you and almost knocking you out.

“Price, be gentle…” Kyle murmurs, frowning a bit at your pinched expression as he quietly tries to soothe you.

“Lass might pass out…” Soap observes, hand coming to your hair to pull it out of your face slightly.

“It’s going to be quick,” Price nods, approaching you and pulling your left arm close to him. He gently pulls it close, and with a small kiss against your palm, he locks the band in place. “John Price.”

The magic running through you is immediately bothered once again, twisting out of the way of a new presence as you squirm and whine in their arms. It’s getting hard to stay awake, your body still too weak and young to take the presence of four powerful familiars tied to you. Sure, it’s a weak bond, not a proper pact, but it would be unreal for a witch your age to manage to endure a bond pact. That’s probably why they chose this option in the first place; like this, you’re all tied together, and your young body and mind will be able to get used to them as time passes for a proper pact in the future.

For now, though, it’s all a little too much as you loose consciousness in their arms, feeling four traces of ancient magic stick to your much younger magic core.

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navybrat817 · 15 days ago

Text

Deep in the Woods: Part 2

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Part 1 | Series Masterlist | Part 3

Chapter Summary: You chat with a friend about the grumpy lumberjack and pay him a visit.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, bits of insecurity, tension, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Next part of our lumberjack is here! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t make small talk when he came back to the table with his second helping. You sat for maybe a minute before you went to clean out your bowl. As pretty as he was to look at, it felt rude to sit there and watch him eat and you weren’t going to force him to chat. Standing at the sink, you felt him staring at you. He didn’t look away either when you snuck a glance at him. He looked fascinated and you couldn't imagine why.

“Do I have food on my face?” you asked, swiping at your cheek when he continued to stare.

“No.” He swallowed his last bite and licked his lips, making your cheeks warm as you looked away. “Was just looking at you.”

You glanced down at yourself, a nervous giggle bubbling up. “Not much to look at,” you mumbled, going back to get his empty bowl. “So, you said early afternoon tomorrow to go to your place. Will 1 o’clock work?”

He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “Should be fine,” he said, observing you in continued curiosity as you finished cleaning up. You weren't used to someone observing you the way he did, and you couldn't pinpoint if the feeling in your stomach was nerves or butterflies. “You trying to kick me out?”

“No,” you said, your brows pinched as you sat back down. “Does it seem like I am?”

“Just cleaning up quickly and asking about tomorrow. Seemed like you were trying to get me out of here.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I could be wrong.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” You hadn’t exactly planned for his company, but you didn’t mind, and you weren’t trying to be a bad hostess. You almost reached across the table to touch his hand but opted to give him a soft smile instead. “It’s nice having you here.”

His gaze softened, his lips inching upward before he cleared his throat. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Not really. I do have to get on my laptop for just a few minutes, but that’s it,” you answered. Since the trip was meant to be a romantic getaway and you were alone now, you didn't have much of anything planned besides relaxing. “You?”

“No,” he said, tilting his head. “Why did you say that earlier?”

“Why did I say what?” you asked.

“That you aren't much to look at,” he said, tilting his head with another tiny smile that made your knees go weak. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, your cheeks hot. “That’s…” You thought for a second that he was joking, but his eyes were serious. The compliment was also completely unexpected, especially from a man who wasn't too welcoming a short time ago. “Thank you, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“Don’t do that. If I made you uncomfortable, just say so.” His cheek twitched and guilt churned in your stomach at the thought of upsetting him. “You don't need to brush off the compliment by trying to put yourself down.”

You looked in your lap, not wanting him to see the sadness in your eyes. Your ex should've called you beautiful, should've made you feel that way, too. And what happened? He strayed. You couldn't hold onto him. As much as you wanted to think there wasn't anything wrong with you, there was still that voice of doubt that said you weren't good enough or pretty enough. Insecurities had a tendency to seep in like poison. What was the remedy for that?

“I wasn't trying to brush off your compliment,” you promised, lifting your gaze. He didn’t look convinced and that made you feel worse. He was only being nice. “It’s just… My confidence is a little shaken and self-deprecating is a defense mechanism, I guess.”

You wanted to run to the bedroom and hide when he regarded you. Why did you tell him that? Why did you tell him anything? He wasn’t your friend or confidant, and it wasn’t fair to unload anything like that onto him.

“I’m sorry. I-”

“Don’t apologize. I understand what it's like,” he said, glancing at his metal hand. “To have your confidence shaken.”

After what he had been through, you could only imagine. “How did you pull yourself out of it?”

“Still working on that,” he replied, his eyes distant as he pushed himself up from his chair. “I should get going.”

“Oh, okay,” you smiled politely and got up to follow him to the door. While it wasn’t your intention to push him out, you may have inadvertently driven him away. “Thanks again for chopping the firewood.” It saved you a lot of trouble.

“Thanks for the meal.” He swept his eyes over you once his boots were on. “Guess we took care of each other, huh?”

“I guess we did,” you said. And you really appreciated his compliment. It felt nice after everything.

You were reminded once again just how large he was when he straightened up, your heart racing when he stood directly in front of you. That close you could smell the forest on his shirt. “Don’t touch that axe again,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. “If you need anything, you come to me.”

Your throat went dry. He was so dominant in his stance, something in his tone sending a delightful shiver down your spine. There was also a predatory shadow in his eyes that gave you pause. He could eat you alive.

Out here, all alone, he could do anything.

“Say it,” he whispered.

“If I need anything.” You had to clear your throat. “I’ll come to you.”

Bucky stepped back and took some of the warmth with him. “Lock the door tonight. I need you safe,” he said, leaving without another word.

The silence in the cabin was deafening as you were left alone. Bucky was… something. Curt at times, a bit defensive, and didn’t have regard for your personal space bubble, but you weren’t going to judge his social skills when yours were nowhere near perfect. He also seemed to like your company at least a little and was oddly protective of you.

“Probably thinks I’m just a damsel in distress,” you muttered, going to get your laptop.

You thought back to the conversation you had with Bucky. He was out here for nine months now and had a cat. And you… your stomach sank when you realized you told him you lived alone and worked from home. He already knew you were out there by yourself and you basically implied that no one would realize if you were gone. At least, not right away.

“It’s fine,” you said, pushing the weird feeling away. Bucky Barnes was a hero, and you were a stranger in his territory. It was natural that he’d have questions. You had nothing to worry about.

You decided to sit out on the porch so you could look at the picturesque view again. Part of you wondered what it would be like to live out here full time. To walk outside on a cool morning and inhale the fresh air. To see the sun rise through the trees. You wouldn’t have to worry about the bustling sounds of the city but could instead take in the quiet.

Which was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing.

You smiled when you saw Kenna’s name pop up. She was one of your oldest friends. “Hey,” you answered, putting the phone on speaker so you could continue to type. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl. Work sucked. I’m seriously considering getting a sugar daddy.” You scoffed. She would never. She hated relying on others. “How about you? How are the woods?”

“Gorgeous,” you smiled, stopping to look around. “Sorry work sucked.”

“It’s whatever. You actually get reception out there in the woods? Nice.”

“So far, so good,” you said. You expected it to be a bit spotty, but it was fine for now.

“And you're feeling okay?” she asked with a hint of concern. “That cabin was supposed to be for-”

“I’m fine. Really.” You didn't want her to worry about that. “But I may have done something kind of stupid.”

“God, you didn't call him, did you?”

“No! No way.” You blocked his number and all social media accounts. You wanted nothing to do with him.

“Then what did you do?” she asked curiously.

“Well, there’s this kind of grumpy, really hot lumberjack who lives near the cabin I’m staying in,” you said, looking around to make sure Bucky wasn’t nearby. It looked like you were all alone. “He wasn’t exactly nice to me when we met earlier today, and I may have snapped at him a little bit.”

“You snapped at a guy who was rude to you? That doesn't sound stupid. Sounds like he deserved it.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t the stupid part,” you said, taking a breath. “I may have told him that I am here all alone for the next couple of weeks,” you blurted out, leaving out that he knew you lived alone, too, and that the grump in question was Bucky Barnes.

Your face scrunched up when you waited for Kenna’s response. “Oh, sweetie…” There it was, the condescending tone complete with a “sweetie” on top. “Why would you tell him that?”

“I don't know!” you exclaimed, lowering your voice with a sigh, “Because I’m an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot.” There was a pause on the other end. “I mean, you did kind of shine a beacon over yourself that says ‘hey, take advantage of me!’ because your self preservation skills aren’t the sharpest, but I know that wasn't your intention.”

You made a face at the phone, your fingers taping the keys harder than you needed to. “Wow. So, I am an idiot and anything that happens to me is my fault?” you asked. You were being defensive when Kenna was only being honest, which you appreciated. But being in the woods, the only thing you should have to worry about was bears, not people with bad intentions.

“No! That’s not what I meant. You just see the world in a much brighter light than most of us do, you know? You feel like you can trust people to have your best interest at heart when you open up to them because you choose to see the good. But the reality is, the world isn't that bright, and most look out for themselves first.”

“Rose colored glasses, I know,” you said, softer this time.

“Listen, I shouldn't have said you put a beacon on yourself. People who do bad things are the ones at fault, not the people they take advantage of.” There was another pause. “Maybe you won’t have to worry about this guy but try to be careful.”

“I will,” you said. You had to look out for yourself.

“And before you say more, let me guess. You were nice to the grump after you snapped at him?”

“You know me too well,” you smiled sheepishly. “I fed him.”

“Oh, God, he tasted your cooking? Yeah, you’re in danger,” Kenna teased. She always praised your cooking skills. “He’ll probably be on the doorstep every day asking for a meal and you’ll give him one.”

You giggled. “Because I’m a pushover?”

“It’s because you’re a good person, so stop with the self-deprecating,” she said. First Bucky, now Kenna. “If I could just give you some of my pessimism and you give me some of your optimism, we’d be perfect.”

“The perfect blend,” you said, though you didn't think Kenna was that pessimistic. She was just realistic.

“Also in your defense, a hot grumpy lumberjack is like something out of a romance novel. I probably would've jumped his bones.”

“Trust me, you would,” you said. Bucky was drop-dead gorgeous, and he would probably have fun with Kenna. Why did that thought make you feel sick? “He has a cat. And he said I was beautiful,” you said, your heart skipping a beat from the memory.

“Oh, he did, did he? Okay, I know I just told you to be careful, but… maybe this guy can blow your back out.” You looked around again and debated taking her off speakerphone when you thought you heard a twig snap in the distance. “I mean, you deserve multiple orgasms after what he who shall not be named put you through.”

“Kenna…” you sighed, not in the mood to discuss your ex. She never liked him but tried to tolerate him for you while you dated. You were grateful she didn’t say “told you so” when you broke up. “I just met this guy.”

“And? People go to bars and leave with people all the time. And all I’m saying is that your ex is out of the picture, and you have some wounds exposed,” she said carefully, not wanting to upset you. “So let this guy lick them clean if he offers. Let him lick something. I mean, he’s a lumberjack. He’s probably pent up and a beast in bed.”

Heat spread between your thighs before you mentally dumped a bucket of cold water on yourself. No way did Bucky want you. “So, I’m no longer supposed to be careful. I’m supposed to let him, what, fuck me?” you asked.

“Be careful and let him fuck you. Establish boundaries but have fun over the next couple of weeks. Go see his cat and then show him yours.”

You burst out laughing and covered your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m also the best,” she stated. She really was. “And who knows? This could be the start of something new.”

“I don’t think…” You sat up when another twig snapped, this one closer. You couldn’t see anything when you did a quick scan from your seat. “Hey, what would you think about coming out here for a couple of days so I’m not alone the whole time?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end. She was probably looking at her calendar. “Hmm. I’ll try to swing it with work, but no promises. I’ll keep you posted,” she said.

“Yeah, just call or text me,” you said, shutting your laptop. If she couldn’t, maybe one of your other friends wouldn’t mind spending some time away from the city. “I gotta go.”

“Me, too. Take care. Carry pepper spray. Be safe,” she said, hanging up.

You slowly went to the edge of the porch and looked around the side of the cabin. There was a good chance the sounds came from an animal nearby, maybe a deer. You could blame the chill that ran through your body on the breeze. It was getting darker though and not being able to see much beyond the nearby trees didn’t soothe your sudden nerves.

With a shake of your head, you went back inside. No one was there. You were just being paranoid.

Locking the door like Bucky instructed, you breathed a bit easier and wondered what you’d cook for him tomorrow. Something not too heavy since it was for lunch, but tasty. It was nice to have someone to cook for since the plan was to cook for two for the next two weeks.

You also thought about what Kenna said. Would there be any harm if anything transpired between you and Bucky? It would be nice to have some fun, but that wasn’t really your style. You were always a relationship kind of person. And Bucky, well, you had no clue what he wanted.

“Forget it,” you muttered.

Curling up on the sofa, your heart ached as you stared between the board games on the shelf and the small fireplace. There really wasn’t much to do by your lonesome, but there was reading. Television. And you wouldn’t put stock in Bucky spending lots of time with you while you were there. He wasn’t responsible for you.

Sniffling, you curled into yourself more. The cabin was meant to be filled with laughter, sounds of pleasure, and more. Not silence. But you’d still have a nice time. You owed it to yourself. And if anything, maybe you’d end the trip with a new friend.

You were in much better spirits when you headed to Bucky’s cabin the next day. The spring in your step was partially thanks to the good night's sleep you had after reading. The bed was extra comfortable, and you woke up bright and refreshed. You could get used to that feeling.

The other spring in your step was, well, because you were having lunch with Bucky. You didn’t want to admit how long you took to pick out an outfit in between making lunch and baking cookies. It wasn’t like you were trying to get his attention or impress him, but you still wanted to look nice and presentable. And you wouldn't allow the thought of loneliness to dampen your mood.

“Wow,” you whispered when his cabin came into sight. It was larger than the one you were in, simplistic and beautiful in design, and had a wraparound porch. You wondered how often he sat on the porch swing and if he brought Alpine out with him.

Taking a breath as you walked up the stairs, you gently knocked on the door. You didn’t know why you were nervous. It was just lunch with Bucky. A handsome, brooding-

You didn’t realize that Bucky had opened the door until you blinked, his blue eyes locked with yours. How many people cowered under his stare? He took up almost the entire door frame and a tiny sound escaped your lips when you noticed he was shirtless. The man had no shirt on.

You bit your lip involuntarily, trying your damnedest not to leer. Were you supposed to look at his massive chest? The scars on his left shoulder? The metal arm? Or was your gaze supposed to dip down past his torso to his jeans and… No. No. You weren’t supposed to stare at all.

“Right on time.” His voice was gruff, holding a hand out to take your bag. “Did you have a good night?”

“Um, yeah. Did a bit of reading and went to bed early.” His fingers touched yours when you handed the bag over and you let it linger longer than you should’ve. It wasn't like there was any tension between you two, right? “You?”

“Yeah. Uneventful,” he said before he deadpanned, “You staring at me?”

Your mouth fell open as he raised an eyebrow. Saying yes would make you look like a creep and saying no might hurt his feelings. “Well, you’re shirtless,” you answered, making a point to look away when you gestured to him. You felt kind of bad looking, but it also felt wrong to not look. As if that was an excuse. “You’re not cold?”

“It’s warm in here and I run warm as it is.” He didn’t look at all embarrassed when you snuck another glance at him. “It’s also more comfortable with the arm sometimes to go shirtless,” he explained, giving you just enough room to squeeze past him. You couldn’t stop your body from pressing against his since he didn’t provide much room and you hoped he didn’t notice the hitch in your breath. “If it bothers you-”

“This is your home and I want you comfortable,” you said, putting some distance between you once he shut the door. If he wanted to go shirtless, you wouldn’t stop him. You could deal with him and his sexiness for a short time and get through a meal.

“I appreciate that,” he said, taking your coat and purse. “Make yourself at home.”

You lingered in the living room. Rustic with the exposed wood beams, but cozy and inviting with the plush sofa and chairs. The large stone fireplace drew your attention, along with the rug in front of it. The perfect place to sit and gaze into a fire on a cold night.

You moved close to the mantle to look at the three photos that rested there. One was of the sun shining on a large body of water with trees on each side. It looked warm and peaceful.

The second was Bucky with two other men, all three of them in leather jackets. You recognized them after taking a closer look: Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, heroes just like Bucky. While they looked relaxed and happy, Bucky wasn’t smiling at all.

Was that photo taken before or after the tough mission?

But the third photo wasn’t a photo at all. It was an empty picture frame. Where was the picture?

“Wakanda.”

You jumped and spun around, nearly bumping the mantle with Bucky so close. Your racing heart didn’t go back to normal immediately. How did he move around so quietly? “Wakanda?” you repeated.

He nodded to the first picture frame. “Where that photo was taken. It was right outside of my hut, sometime after I started healing. I didn’t have any nightmares that day.” His smile was soft as he reminisced. “It was a peaceful time.”

You smiled softly, too. He deserved peace. “It’s a beautiful view,” you said. The view he had there was beautiful and peaceful, too.

“I assume you know who Steve and Sam are?” You nodded in confirmation. “That was Sam’s birthday. He made us take a picture together and insisted on framing it.” He rolled his eyes, but there was affection there that he couldn’t hide. “I only have it up here because Steve said it would hurt his feelings if I threw it out.”

You looked at the photo again. Bucky’s hair wasn’t as long as it was now and his stance wasn’t as stiff, but the brooding expression was there. “I think that’s nice,” you smiled. It was good that he had friends. “And what about that frame?”

His jaw clenched, his fingers grazing the glass. “It’ll be a family photo,” he whispered longingly. “One day.”

Your heart broke for him and the urge to soothe him skyrocketed. Before you could stop yourself you put a hand on his arm. His muscles tensed under your touch and you pulled away, regretting your action immediately. “I’m sorry I touched you.” You felt terrible. You should’ve asked. “I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful photo. A beautiful family photo for your beautiful home,” you assured him as he let out a breath. He’d have that one day like he wanted.

He leaned in close, his lips close to skimming your ear. “Your touch doesn’t bother me,” he whispered like it was a secret between you before he pulled away. If he caught you quivering, he didn’t say so. “If you think this room is beautiful, wait ‘til you see the rest of the place,” he said, leading you away and not mentioning the family photo again.

You gasped when he brought you to the kitchen, your eyes bright as you took in the room. The rustic and cozy theme continued and you wondered if Bucky built the cabinets. You envied the open concept and counterspace and you wanted to weep over the large stove. The kitchen was the heart of a home and it was very much true for Bucky’s place.

“You like it?” he asked.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, running a hand along one of the counters. You didn’t miss the way his chest puffed out with pride. “My kitchen is so small, but a space like this…”

He unpacked the bag of food you brought, giving you a sideways glance. “Maybe you can cook here,” he casually stated.

Your eyes lit up. “Really?” you smiled, nearly throwing yourself into his arms. You refrained. “I can cook here?”

“Yeah, really,” he said, tucking his hair back. Standing in front of the counter, shirtless, his hair down, he looked like a wet dream. “Like I said, I’m not as good of a cook as you. It’ll be nice to get some better use out of it.”

You clapped your hands giddily and he actually smiled a full blown smile. “Thank you, Bucky. Really,” you said. You’d make something extra special. “I hope you like the sliders. I made cookies, too.”

He turned to face you, his muscles rippling as he stepped a little closer. This man really didn’t understand personal space, did he? “How did you know I wanted dessert?” he asked, that husky tone back in his voice. Was he implying… No.

It was like Kenna was both the angel and devil on your shoulders, one telling you to flirt a little, and the other telling you to play it safe. “Just a guess,” you said lightly, going for something in the middle.

You didn't feel like you could breathe properly until he stepped back. “I almost forgot…” he trailed off, sauntering from the room.

You swallowed as you stayed rooted to the spot. What did he forget about? That he was still walking around without a shirt on?

Bucky came back with a beautiful cat in his arms, and you were close to swooning. It was quite the sight seeing a shirtless Bucky Barnes holding a cat, who looked at you with a curious stare. You didn't blame her for staring. You were a stranger in her home.

“Al, this is the woman I was telling you about,” he said, making your heart flutter when he said your name. He actually talked about you to her? It didn't mean anything special. He probably told her that a new visitor was stopping by. “Can you say hi?”

Alpine gently meowed, bringing a smile to your face. Bucky smiled, too. They made quite the pair.

“You can hold out your hand for her,” he said.

You did so gently, not wanting to startle her. “Hey, Alpine,” you smiled.

Her nose tickled your fingers before she nuzzled it, urging you to pet her. You did so, which earned you a purr in response. It was nice to get her seal of approval since Bucky said she was particular with people.

“Wanna hold her?” Bucky offered.

“If she’ll let me,” you said.

As soon as you held out your arms, Alpine crawled into them. Bucky looked pleased when she got comfortable and continued to purr. “She really likes you.”

“I like her, too,” you smiled down at the feline. She was a sweetheart.

“Perfect…”

You glanced up to find Bucky holding up his phone. “Sorry. Just thought it would be a nice photo,” he said, his expression not at all apologetic as he showed you the picture he took of you holding Alpine. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh, no. That’s fine,” you said. Maybe he didn't have pictures of others holding her.

He glanced at the photo again and nodded. “I might have to frame this one,” he said, tucking his phone away.

Your smile wavered as he grabbed a couple of plates. That wasn't weird, was it? No. It was just a guy wanting a sweet photo of his cat.

“Let’s eat,” he said, rubbing his chiseled stomach. “I’m starving.”

We deserve a shirtless Bucky, don't we? Is that photo going in that empty frame? What do we think will happen next? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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