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aj-the-cat · 4 years ago

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Lawless

(Fuck it, a week early then when i had originally scheduled it to come out)

~ Chapter 1 ~ Masterlist

Word count: 2096

Scorpion’s Roost

Solidarity, Texas

"My god Shawn, do you ever sit still?"

Shawn Michaels squirmed on his horses saddle, itching to get up and move around but the man on the other horse was not having it. "It's uncomfortable, Hunter! You know I can't do long rides. And besides, the dude in El Paso was so rough in me, it felt like he was going to-"

Hunter made a retching sound. "I don't want to hear about your sex life!" Shawn let out an offended gasp.

"But I'm your best friend!"

"That doesn't matter!"

Shawn remained silent as the horses continued on their path. They trotted through Ginger's Plain, observing a fence around a certain area and the very little vegetation. Shawn broke the silence of the place. "Why'd they call this place Ginger's Plain? I see no red anything, and I certainly see no ginger's runnin' around." Hunter shook his head. "I don't have any clue. C'mon, lets hurry up. We can get to the next town a little past noon if we keep going."

The sun beamed brightly overhead as the two bandits finally made their way to the town sign. "Thank god! My ass is killing me!" Shawn hopped off his horse, staggering a little but still remained on his feet. Hunter shook his head and got off his horse as well, claiming his trusty sledgehammer off his horses rump and sheathing it on his back.

The two bandits walked their horses into town, earning stares from some townsfolk. Shawn looked around, examining every building until one caught his eye. "Sweet! This town has a horse stable, we can leave our horses there while we drink in the saloon." Hunter quickly shot that idea down. "And waste our money? We can just leave our horses outside the saloon for free, and if we need an escape, they're right there." Shawn groaned, but complied with Hunters words.

They walked to the saloon and tied their horses on the poles outside.

The saloon wasn't too flashy, but it did stand out. Everything was quiet inside. "Shouldn't there be a piano man or somethin' in there? Seems dead." Shawn whispered. Hunter slapped him on the back of the head. "Not all saloon's are the same, idiot. If it's quiet, it should stay quiet." Hunter put a finger in Shawn's face. "That means no flirting with the patrons." The shirtless bandit rolled his eyes.

They walked inside and noticed the place empty, except a single table with people playing poker, a shadowed man drinking in the corner and the bartender cleaning a glass. When she heard the bootsteps, she looked up from the glass at the two bandits in the doorway. "Y'all just gonna stand there or am I gonna pour you a glass?" She called out.

Shawn, ever the giddy drinker, quickly walked over to a seat at the bar. "A beer my fine lady." He tried to put on his best charm, winking at the bartender, but she wasn't fazed. She poured his beer and set it down in front of him, ignoring the immediate gulps from him. "What what about you, Nosey? What'll you have?" She called out to Hunter.

Hunter went to grab his nose but stopped midway. "Uh, I don't drink. I think a water is just fine for me, thank you." He sat down beside Shawn who had already finished his glass. The bartender set down the glass of water in front of Hunter and asked, "Never seen ya around here, Nosey. What your name?" Hunter politely set down his glass and replied, "Hunter Hearst Helmsley. But just Triple H or Hunter if fine. Thats Shawn Michaels-" Shawn let out a very unpleasent burp and waved -"My best friend. What about you?"

The bartender smiled. "Call me Chyna. You two seem very interesting, where do y'all come from?" Hunter choked on his water and Shawn snorted. Chyna's eyes twinkled in amusement as the shirtless one of the two beat the other on the back, and the other sputtered and coughed.

Laughing, Shawn replied, "He HATES getting asked that question. Never been good at telling his background so I will tell." Hunter flipped his head around to face Shawn. "SHAWN! Don't you *cough* d-dare!" Placing his finger over Hunter's lips, Shawn cleared his throat and lifted his other finger up.

"You see, this man was born with a silver spoon so far down his throat that it was impossible for him to be seen outside his mansion up in Conneticut. All his life he was a spoiled little rat-" Hunter glared at Shawn, still having his finger on his lips- "Hell, by the time he was 12 he already owned a couple acres of land and a couple slaves. He was so miserable. I found him by hopping a train that led to where he lived and I broke him out of that hell hole. We've been best friends ever since."

Shawn removed his finger from Hunters lips and smiled innocently. Chyna giggled as Hunter fumed, wringing his hands in attempt to not strangle his friend. "Thank you for that, Shawn." He growled. Shawn tipped his cowboy hat. "No problem, ol' friend of mine."

Hunter facepalmed and sipped a bit of his water. "I come from Dallas, bein' a bandit is all I ever known. My parents got shot while I was 13 and I learned to shoot a gun at 14. Been hittin' the roads ever since." Shawn smiled and looked at Chyna expectantly. Her eyes twinkled in amusement at the two idiots in front of her.

Chyna grabbed the men's ears and pulled them to her face, Hunter almost knocking down his water. "I'll tell ya what. You two seem interesting, and nothing ever interesting ever goes on here. I wanna join you two on your adventures." She let their ears go and their eyes widened.

Shawn grabbed Hunter's shoulders and turned both of them around on the bar seats. In a low whisper, he talked to Hunter. "Ya hear this?! We can start a group like we always wanted! And nobody would expect a woman!" Shawn looked back at Chyna and she winked.

"She is pretty, and she seems smart too. We could definately use her on heists." Hunter replied. Shawn smiled wide. "This is our big break! We'll be known all across the nation!" Hunter shook his head. "Don't let your ego get in the way." Shawn let go of Hunters shoulders and placed a hand over his heart. "I do not have an ego!" Hunter snorted. "You so do."

Shawn opened his mouth to retort back but was interrupted by the sound of spurs and bootsteps, as well as a heavy accented voice yelling. "I'll wring that stack o' dimes you call a neck someday, Vince! Don't you forget that!"

Both Shawn and Hunter froze at the voice. "Austin." They both said. Shawn climbed over the bar counter and grabbed Chyna's leg. "Hide me! Please!" Using her other leg, she kicked open a hidden cabinet and Shawn climbed inside. Hunter was about to climb over the bar but Chyna stopped him. "Only room for one. You'll have to face this rattlesnake alone." She pointed to the door just as Austin was walking in.

Austin whipped his head around from looking at something and his blue eyes narrowed as he saw Hunter. Hunter gulped as he saw Austin's hand clench into a fist. "Helmsley." He growled. Chyna put on a bored expression and walked to the other side of the bar, where the shadowed man sat. "I don't see yer partner. Come to MY town alone?" Hunter nodded slowly.

Austin chuckled and quickly whipped out his gun. "Well too bad for you. By order of the town of Scorpion's Roost, you are under arrest for your life of crime as a bandit. Any last words before I shoot you?" Hunter slowy shrugged. "Uh, beer sucks?"

"Wrong answer!"

Hunter ducked just in time for a bullet to shoot right where his head was, making a bottle of tequila explode. He crawled on the floor and between Austin's legs to the door. He stood up and yelled, "I got places to be! See ya!" And hightailed it out of the saloon.

Cursing, Austin ran after the blonde and yelled after him.

Hearing that the coast was clear, Shawn emerged from his hiding place and slowly looked over the bar. No bald-headed bounty hunters. All was clear. Sughing in relief, he climbed back over the bar and settled in a chair. "Thank god that's over. He scares the bejeezus outta me." He reached for his beer glass and found it empty.

Shawn looked to the other side of the bar for Chyna and saw her pouring shots for the shadowed man he saw earlier. He smirked and got out of his chair, sauntering over to where the man sat.

Leaning against the bar, Shawn made sure to puff out his shirtless chest and put on his best charm. "Hiya, Tex. Nice set of legs ya got there. What time do they open?" The shadowed man downed his last shot and set the glass upside down on the bar. Shawn got a glimpse of piercing green eyes and midnight black hair as the man got up from his seat. His heart raced as the man walked away, but he stopped.

"Put it on my tab, Chyna." He growled out and walked away, heavy boots clunking on the floorboards. Shawns heart was racing a million miles a minute and butterflies found their way inside his stomach. "Who was that?" He whispered out, still staring at the door.

Chyna picked up the glasses and put them under the bar. "Nobody knows. Everybody just calls him The Undertaker. He works at the local funeral parlor and comes in here once a week." Shawn's imagination fired up as he remembered the large frame of the man, now known to him as The Undertaker, and imagined his large hands gliding across-

"SHAWN!" Hunter burst through the doors of the saloon, making Shawn snap out of his day dream. Hunter's sledgehammer was out of its sheath and in its owners hands, making Shawn wonder what had happened to make his friend pull out his hammer. "We gotta hide for a while. I managed to lose Austin, but not for long."

Hunter ran over and grabbed Shawn's arm and pulled him towards the door. Chyna waved at the two bandits and set up a tab for Shawn and Hunter, and put The Undertaker's shots on his existing tab.

Outside, the sun was falling towards the horizon. Hunter and Shawn ran to the hotel across the street and burst in their doors. "We need a room. Now." Hunter said, very breathless. He put his sledgehammer on the counter to make a warning to the lady. Shawn had his hand on his gun and was surveying the surrounding area. The woman at the counter shakily pointed upstairs. Top floor, last one on the left." Hunter nodded and both bandits went upstairs.

Going to the room and locking themselves in, they sat on the floor and Hunter caught his breath. "We made it, oh thank god." Hunter thought about his safety in the room. Meanwhile, Shawn's mind wandered to The Undertaker and his green eyes. He usually could forget people and what they looked like, but this man had a hold on his mind.

Shawn usually had his mind hardwired on sex, alcohol and his mischevious antics. But this time things were different. His cheeks burned as he thought about the man more and more. 'God what is happening?' He thought to himself.

Hunter noticed his friend looking a little sick. "Shawn, buddy, you ok?" He snapped his fingers in front of Shawn's face, making the other man jump. "Hunter what the hell?!" Hunter noticed Shawn's pink cheeks but ignored it. "Shawn, you ok? You spaced out." Shawn waved off Hunter. "Im fine."

Hunter nodded and layed on the ground, not even bothering to tour the room. Shawn followed suit and looked up at the ceiling and was lost in thought.

Eventually, the sun went down fully and the half moon glowed brightly in the sky. Hunter had fallen asleep, but Shawn was still wide awake and deep in his thoughts.

Who was this man Shawn's mind had grabbed on to? Shawn had to find out. Closing his eyes, he decided that in the morning he would find out. Sleep soon took over him and cast him away to a dream-filled night.

#lawless!au #old west #western #wwf #wwe #fanfiction

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avintagekiss24 · 5 years ago

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Eyes Always Seeking [2/?]

Pairing: Dark!Biker!Bucky Barnes x Original Black Female Character (Saoirse Wilson)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Dub-Con, rough sex, masturbation, oral sex, smut

Summary: You haven’t been able to keep your mind off of one Bucky Barnes since your initial meeting. You want him again. You need him again. Then, just like magic, he appears in your brother’s backyard.

Word Count: 5025

A/N: I’m so overwhelmed with all of the support I’ve received on this one! I’m just starting to branch out into dark!fic, and you guys have been so warm! I hope this lives up to the first part and, it’s just in time for Sebastian’s 37th birthday!

Again, this was written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 3000 followers #inthedark!challenge. The prompt is in bold. Enjoy!

PART THREE | SERIES MASTERLIST

“There she is.” Wanda’s warm voice floats toward you as you step into the kitchen, “Good morning.”

You smile back at her, crossing your arms over your chest as you pad toward the kitchen table. You fall into one of the chairs and bury your face into your hands and the cuffs of your sweater before smoothing your messy hair off your forehead. Your body is sore. Your joints, your muscles, your skin; it all hurts. Your eyes burn and your head spins as fragmented images of the night before flash before your eyes. You can still feel his rough fingers on your hips.

Your heart drops to your stomach at the thought of him. Bucky Barnes. You vision tunnels into the corner of the room as Wanda’s voice fades away from you. You can smell him, almost as if he’s standing in the room with you right this moment. He was a tantalizing mixture of cigarette smoke, cheap beer, and musky cologne. You shiver as the feeling of his prickly beard scraping against your jaw and neck washes through you. You squeeze your legs together.

Embarrassment flashes through you as your body begins to react. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should be angry at what happened to you, terrified at the very least. But, as you sit here, you slowly realize that this is what turns you on. The fear. The powerlessness that consumed you when he ripped your jacket from your torso. The adrenaline that coursed through your veins when he craned your leg around his hip.

You miss him. You were ashamed to admit it, it almost made you sick to. You miss the fullness that his cock brought your aching body. You miss the feeling of his black leather jacket balled in your hands as he fucked you up against your car. You swallow hard, slamming your eyes closed as you take a deep breath. Something is wrong with you. He assaulted you, in plain sight of a hundred bikers, your brother, and the good lord himself - and you can’t wait to see him again.

“Here,” Wanda says, snapping you out of your daze as she slides a cup of coffee toward you, “This’ll help with that hangover.”

You reach for the mug, a smile on your face as your overly large sweater slips off your shoulder. Wanda’s big eyes widen slightly as she reaches for your arm, “Oh honey, that’s a nasty bruise.”

You grab at the sweater quickly, pulling it back up over your shoulder as you laugh nervously, “I was so drunk last night, I ran right into the freakin’ door jam when coming out of the bathroom. Hurt like a mother fucker.”

“What hurt like a mother fucker?” Sam asks as he moves into the kitchen, the back door slamming shut behind him.

He moves to Wanda, wrapping his arms around her waist as he kisses her on the cheek. She points toward you before resting her hands on his arms, “She’s got a nasty bruise on her shoulder. Said he ran into the door jam last night.”

Sam chuckles as he removes himself from the smaller woman, “Pushing thirty and you still can’t walk and think at the same time. Bravo.”

You flip him off, “Fuck you.”

“Oooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He quips.

“What can I say, I learned from you big brother.”

Wanda laughs as she turns back toward the stove, flipping the frying bacon, “You two make me miss Pietro.”

“Pietro?” You ask, sipping on your black coffee.

“Twin brother,” Sam answers, “I told you to invite him out. He can stay as long as he wants.” Wanda opens her mouth but Sam stops her, holding up his hands, “I know, I know, he don’t like Texas.”

You finish your coffee and scarf down the hearty breakfast that Wanda prepared. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon until her pesto eggs and cinnamon toast were slid in your direction. You giggled as the three of you sat and ate, Wanda giving Sam a ration of shit for not properly stalling the horses, for leaving the cows out to pasture for far too long, and for forgetting to corral the chickens. You cut your eyes toward him over your glass of orange juice and watch him nearly cower, a dopey grin on his face as he shrugs and delivers a lame ass excuse. He’s happy and obviously smitten, and that makes you smile.

You excuse yourself once you’ve helped with the dishes and snuck back up to your bathroom. You grab a towel from underneath the sink and start the shower, slowly undressing as steam begins to fill the small bathroom. You bite your lip as you look over your battered body, your heartbeat beginning to pound in your ears. Red welts and scratches crover your chest and arms, blue and red bruises splashed on your brown skin. You hiss as you brush your fingers over the deep blue bruise forming in the nook of your neck and shoulder.

You can still see his teeth marks.

He’s branded you.

You shiver at the thought. Your pussy clenches as an ache begins to sting your clit. God, you fucking miss him. No other man has ever made you feel this way, made you want them this way. You blink a few times, trying to calm yourself down before grabbing a hair tie and pulling your hair into a bun. You pull on a shower cap, not having the energy to wash your hair, and step underneath the hot stream of water. You close your eyes instantly and let the water wash over you. You roll your head back and forth slowly, ignoring the slight sting as it beats down on your damaged skin, and let it soothe your tight, sore muscles.

You push your hands along your neck, rubbing gently before you tilt your face toward the ceiling again. You rest your hand on your chest, feeling thump of your heart quicken as the wicked thoughts of your new biker friend returns. The ache between your legs intensifies as your pussy begins to lubricate itself from the memories of his hands busting the buttons of your jacket. You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping as your nipples harden at the memory of him rolling them between his fingers.

You push your hand between your breasts and down your stomach, running your fingers over the bruises he caused by digging his fingers into your flesh so roughly. You lift your left leg and rest your foot on the edge of the tub, pushing your hips forward slightly. You spread yourself open with your left hand, strings of your wetness clinging to your lips. You push your fingers to your clit, rubbing slowly as your mouth drops open from the sensation.

You thrust your hips into your hand as you tease yourself, dipping your fingers into your cunt before pulling them out to continue stroking your swollen clit. You hiss as your fingers quicken against your flesh, rubbing fast circles. You sink your fingers into your pussy again, pushing them in and out as you use your free hand to massage your clit. Your eyes close to slits as you try to remember the feeling of his rough stubble against your cheek.

Your walls constrict as you hook your fingers inside of you to hit your spot. You moan, dropping your head as your orgasm builds, pure adrenaline and lust coursing through your veins. You buck your hips, imagining the denim of his jeans scraping against your thigh, his hot breath washing over your face as he pounded into you. You remember yourself squirting all over your thighs and onto the ground from his unforgiving thrusts.

You come, hard, as the hot water cascades over you. You whimper as you buck your hips against your furious fingers, your pussy constricting tightly as your orgasm rips through you. You continue to rub circles against your clit as it quakes and jumps with your release. You spread your lips open again, hissing loudly as the hot water beats down on your sensitive nub. You slap your sex through the water as you continue to come, trying to stretch the feeling as long as possible.

You squirt again, your moans growing louder as it bounces off of the walls. You push your hips forward as your slap and rub your sex through another wave of your orgasm. Your fingers start to slow as the minutes pass, your release finally beginning to recede. You lick your lips as a slow smile spreads on your face as you continue to massage yourself slowly, your fingers sticky with cum.

“Fuck.” You whisper, pushing air out through your teeth as you start to relax.

You giggle softly, your legs and arms turning to jelly as a shiver racks through your body. You wash quickly as post-orgasm sleepiness starts to spread through you. You step out, wrap up in the warm, fuzzy towel and traipse back into your room, closing the door behind you. You fall on the bed, rolling over onto your back and stare up at the ceiling fan as it twirls slowly. Your mind is still, your body satisfied - for now - your heart calm. You fall asleep to the sound of him saying your name over and over and over again.

Saoirse. Saoirse. Saoirse.

Awww, what’s wrong sugar?

Mumbled voices from outside break into your subconscious. You roll away from the window, grabbing your pillow and placing it over your head to try and drown out the sound of loud talking and laughing. There’s a thumping from downstairs, like someone is moving around in the kitchen before the back door opens and slams shut. You sigh deeply, not ready to rejoin the living quite yet.

You try and tune out Sam’s loud ass laugh as he hoots and hollers from just outside of your window it sounds. You lean up as your skin prickles from the air conditioning, and slip underneath the comforter, pulling it up to your chin. You’re just about to fall back asleep when your brother’s voice floats toward you again.

That shit ain’t right Bucky! You ain’t right for that!

Your eyes pop open at the sound of his name. You sit up, clutching the sheets to your chest as you turn your head back toward the window. You stare out into the distance as your mouth falls open, your breath becoming shallow.

I’m telling you man, that girl slipped me something. I swear!

Your heart leaps at the sound of his voice. Bucky! You slide toward the edge of the bed and stand, grabbing the discarded towel from the end of the mattress as you move toward the window. You stand to the side, trying to stay out of sight as you peer through the small pane of glass. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you spot him below. He smiles widely as he listens to Sam recount some old story. He’s dressed casually, just as he was the night before. Tight black jeans, loose black t shirt, and that old black leather jacket.

His dark hair is loose and wavy, some of it pulled back to keep it from falling into his face. He tilts his head toward the sky as he downs his beer, throwing the glass bottle into an old barrel before he moves to the cooler to grab another. You turn away from the scene below and lean against the wall as your mind begins to race. You push away from the wall, damn near running to the other side of the bed to grab your suitcase. You toss it on the bed and rummage through it, throwing around random articles of clothing until you find what you’re looking for.

You settle on a tight pair of jean shorts, the ones where your ass cheeks hang out of the bottom of them with little to no effort at all. You pull a pink halter top over your bare breasts before grabbing your makeup bag and running into the bathroom. You work quickly, doing your best to cover you scratches and bruises before applying your favorite lip gloss as you pucker them. You keep your eye shadow light, applying a quick layer, before you push your diamond studs into your ears.

You play with your hair, trying to get it just right, before getting frustrated and pulling it up into a high bun. You let a few strands fall around your face, turning your head from side to side as you pick at it. You didn’t pay five hundred dollars for these bundles to have them betray you like this, but then again, you should have sucked it up and washed the shit. After precious minutes tick by, you give up, semi approving of the quick up-do.

You spritz on some perfume and head for the stairs, skipping down them and turning into the kitchen. Wanda is hard at work, stirring a large bowl of potato salad before she glances up and greets you with a smile, “I came to check on you earlier but you were fast asleep.”

“Yeah,” You smile back as you let out a sigh, throwing your eyes toward the screen door, “I think the drive and all the drinking finally caught up to me.”

“I hope those loud ass boys didn’t wake you. Impromptu barbecues are famous around here.” She laughs, turning on her heel to tend to the pot of beans on the stove, “Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving. You need any help?” You ask, praying that she’ll say no so that you can get outside.

She waves you off, “No, no. You’re a guest here, go grab yourself a beer and relax. It’s beautiful outside.”

You’re out the back door before she can even finish her sentence. The gaggle of men turn toward the sound of the door slamming shut and you dip your head, shoving your hands into your back pockets as you move toward your brother.

“I thought you were asleep.” Sam calls, squinting his eyes as you approach. He remembers your tricks when you were kids. He remembers every pair of booty shorts you just happened to be wearing when his friends were around.

“I was, your loud ass woke me.”

“Your voice does carry, Sam.” A short, slightly older man laughs, holding his beer to his lips.

“Nobody asked you, Clint. Thank you.” Sam answers, watching as you move up next to him, “Clint, Bruce, this is my baby sister Saoirse.” They greet you warmly, holding out their hands and smiling, “You remember Bucky from last night, yeah?”

You slide your eyes toward the object of your desire, shoving your hands into your back pockets again as you jut out your hip slightly, “Of course. Nice to see you again, Bucky.”

He nods his head toward you, his ice blue eyes staring at you for a quick second before he glances off and takes another sip of his beer. You swallow, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment more before you pretend to listen as the conversation strikes up again. Something’s off. It feels strange, the energy, or lack thereof, between you. Last night, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, but today, it’s like you’re not even there.

You grab a beer and laugh lightly as the boys continue to ham it up. You do everything possible to try and catch his attention. You push out your chest, you laugh at every one of his little quips and jokes, you find every reason on the planet to bend over in your shorts, knowing full well your ass in on display for him. He doesn’t even budge. Not a wink, not a glance, nothing. You’re invisible.

Anger starts to build inside your chest as you move away from the group, throwing your now empty beer into the barrel. You kick at the dirt, biting at your cheek as you glare at him from a few feet away. Asshole. You know he can feel you staring at him, but the fucker doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps on laughing, keeps on hamming it up as he finishes off beer after beer. How dare he.

You stomp back inside, huffing as the door slams shut behind you, “Need any help?” You ask, your voice low and full of frustration as you lean against the counter and fold your arms over your chest.

Wanda quirks her eyebrow, a small smirk on her lips as she hands you the pot of beans, “You okay?”

“Fine.” You answer, turning and kicking open the door with your foot, “Fuckin’ food’s ready.” You call as you move down the steps.

Sam scrunches up his face as he glances over his shoulder at you, “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing, just get the steaks off the grill, will you?” You answer curtly, turning and heading back inside.

You make several trips with Wanda, setting out plates and drinks and the rest of the sides as the boys take their seats. You make one last trip, grabbing the roll of paper towels, salt, pepper, and butter, before you traipse back outside. You lean over the older, and for some reason nervous Bruce, your breasts lightly brushing his shoulder as you place the items on the wooden picnic table.

He blushes, laughing nervously as you apologize and rest your hand on his shoulder, “Sorry ‘bout that.” You coo, smiling as you realize the effect you have on him.

You settle down between Bruce and Clint, just opposite Wanda, Sam, and Bucky. You glance up as you reach for the beans and do a double take as you connect your dark eyes with Bucky’s blues. His lips are in a hard line as he stares at you, a hint of anger on his features. You roll your eyes and stand, reaching across Bruce again to scoop some beans in your plastic bowl. You make sure to brush up against the nervous man as much as possible and bend and stretch as far as you can to make sure Clint gets an eyeful of your ass as well.

“You want some beans, Clint?” You ask sweetly, tossing your eyes back to him over your shoulder.

You want to laugh as you catch the man staring at your ass, his mouth slightly open as his eyes grow wide. Sam kicks him under the table, leaning up as he sucks his teeth, “Eyes forward, dickweed.”

Clint shakes his head as he rubs his shin, “Yes, please.” He answers after a second, clearing his throat, “Thank you Saoirse.”

You scoop a healthy helping into his bowl, your tits bouncing as you stir the beans. You pass his bowl back to him, and offer the same to Bruce, Sam, and Wanda. You plop down, staring at Bucky as you fail to offer him some and begin to pile your plate with potato salad, chips, and steak. You wiggle as close as you can to Bruce, keeping your attention solely on him as he talks about his work with the government.

“Oh gosh,” You say, letting out a quick breath and a light giggle as you turn toward him, “That sounds so interesting. You know, I never had a head for science or numbers or anything like that. Not like Sam.”

“Pssh, I don’t have anything on this dude. Banner’s got like six PhD’s or something crazy.” Sam points out.

“Seven.” Bruce shrugs before scratching at his scalp, “But you know, that’s boring stuff.”

“No, no,” You smile widely, nearly feeling the heat radiating off of Bucky, “Seven PhD’s? That’s incredible! Tell me more.”

You eat slowly, never taking your eyes off of Bruce as he rattles off a bunch of science terms that you’ve never heard before. Warmth floods through your body as you finally start to feel Bucky’s icy stare. It’s unwavering now. You continue to bat your eyes and laugh and smile, resting your hands on Bruce’s arm and shoulder, only throwing your eyes back toward Bucky every now and again. Every time you make eye contact, his jaw tightens even more. His eyes are nearly black once you’re all finished eating and you’re sure he’s broken a few teeth.

“Want me to take some plates, guys?” You ask, standing and holding out your hands.

You step over the seat and throw your hips back and forth as you reenter the house, a proud smirk on your face. You keep your back to the door as you toss the plates and utensils into the trash can, the group’s voices floating toward you through the screen door. You turn to wash your hands and hear the door open. Before you can turn fully, you’re pulled roughly toward the back of the kitchen, out of view from the door.

Bucky slams you into the wall, a grunt passing through your lips as pain rips through your body. He grabs your chin, pushing your head against the wall and cranes it up toward his face. Your chest rises and falls quickly as air audibly pushes through your nostrils. You stare back at him, your eyes dipping down to his lips before rejoining his stare.

“Don’t,” He starts, his voice low, “Play with me. You’ll regret it. I promise you.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. He raises his eyebrows at you, fury building in him. You slap his hand away from your face and lean forward, coming nose to nose with him, “Fuck you.” You answer calmly, venom dripping from your words.

He smirks, his eyes bouncing dangerously between yours, “Mouthy little thing, you are.” He spits back.

He grabs your wrist again and pulls you from the wall, pushing you roughly toward the stairs. You stumble and fall on the staircase, squealing as he grabs your arm and pulls you to your feet. You struggle against him, pushing back against his hands as he forces you up the stairs from behind. Once you reach the landing, you whirl around and slap him across the face, going in for another before he catches your hands in one of his.

He pushes you violently, sending you into your bedroom door and crashing to the floor. He grabs you, pulling you to your feet as you protest wildly, ripping and clawing at his chest and face with your hands.

“Yo, everything okay up there? The hell are you doin?” Sam calls, seconds later.

Bucky holds your shoulders firmly, squeezing your body to his, daring you to say anything other than you’re fine. You swallow harshly, the same fear from the night before growing in your stomach again as he stares at you. The stubble on his cheeks and chin brushes against your face as you start to shiver, his breath warm on your face. Your eyes are wide and wild as they bounce between his. Without warning, he leans in and bites your bottom lip, pulling back and taking it with him. You squeal from the pain and he lets go, letting your lip snap back to your face.

“Saoirse!” Sam calls again.

“I’m fine Sam. I just tripped over my bag.” You shout back, your eyes never leaving Bucky’s.

“You see Bucky? The fucker didn’t leave, did he?”

You shake your head as if he can see you, “No, he’s in the bathroom. Said something about the beans.”

You hear Sam laugh and then his footsteps as he moves toward the back door. You bite your lip as you turn your attention back toward the man in front of you, “Good girl.” He whispers.

You smirk. He leans in again, nuzzling his face against yours before his tongue slithers out through his lips. He licks up your chin and lips slowly, his tongue curling upward once it reaches the tip of your nose. You moan softly from the contact and he kisses you deeply, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. He groans lightly, sending a shiver down your spine as your sex begins to throb for the second time of the day.

You push your hips into his slowly, your wet lips sticking to your denim shorts. He forces your head upward with his as he nuzzles your neck, his lips and teeth scraping along your skin. You push your hand into his hair, grunting as he nips at your skin, your hips grinding against his leg as you hiss. He pops the small silver button on your shorts and unzips your fly before pushing his hand into your pants. He groans as his calloused fingers slide between your wet lips, and he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Filthy girl.” He mumbles, as he cups his dick through his jeans.

He slips his other hand into your shorts and shimmies them down your thighs, letting them pool at your feet. He turns you away from him, pushing you down to the bed. He hooks his hands around your waist and pulls you up on your knees before sliding his hands back to your waist. He squeezes your flesh in his hands as he moves them along your lower half. He lands a hard slap on your ass, lurching you forward, the sound of the skin to skin contact bouncing off of the walls.

He pulls you back into his hips and rubs his crotch into your ass before he steps back. You hear the sound of his zipper coming down, your heart lurching into your throat in anticipation. He pushes his hand into your top and slides his fingers around your body. He pinches your nipple in his fingers, tweaking and turning it as he slides his dick along your folds. You slam your eyes shut as he finally pushes into you, your walls spreading as you take him all in. The mattress dips as he presses his knee into it. He pushes your shirt up, freeing your breasts as he starts his slow thrusts, nearly pulling out of you entirely before he sinks all the way back in.

You groan with each thrust, biting down on your bottom lip to try and stay quiet as he fucks you from behind. He rests his hands on either side of your hips as he bucks into you, guiding you back onto his cock and then pushing you forward again. You grip the thin sheets in your hands and bury your face into the pillows, unable to stifle the noises coming from you.

He bucks into you hard, much harder than before, and you cry out, your face scrunching in pain. He slams into you again and you howl as he hits your cervix. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls harshly, causing you to squeal as pain prickles at your scalp, “Buck-”

“Shut up.” He growls, “Don’t say another fuckin’ word.”

Chills flood through your veins as his demeanor shifts. He pulls out of you roughly and grabs your thigh, pinching your flesh until you’re whimpering from the pain. He pulls you up, your back flush against his chest as he digs his nose into the side of your face. He grabs your chin again as he bites your earlobe, chuckling as you wail, “I told you you’d regret fuckin’ with me, didn’t I?”

“Bucky,” You whisper as you sob, fear consuming you.

“Did you think you were being cute out there? Huh? Rubbing your titties all over that fucking nerd.” When you hesitate to answer, he tightens his grip on your chin, shaking your head lightly, “Answer me.”

“No.”

“No.” He mocks you, raising his voice an octave, “I think you did. I think you thought you were being cute out there.”

Tears stream down your face as you sniffle, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He laughs. He smiles as his eyes travel along the side of your face, “You need an attitude adjustment. On your knees, now.”

He steps back and you obey him, falling to the hard floor. He pushes his dick against your lips and you accept it without any hesitation, afraid to anger him any further. You bob your head back and forth as he thrusts into your mouth, his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hands tangle in your hair as you suck him off, his fingers pulling your hair every now and again as his eyes flutter shut.

His groans and grunts get louder, his hips moving faster as you feel small spurts of cum slip down your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks as he uses you, all the confidence you had earlier completely slipping away. You question yourself, your motives, cursing yourself for being so stupid. The same emotions that filled you last night course through you now and once again, you’re humiliated. But what’s worse is, you brought this all on yourself.

He thrusts into you again and comes, his sticky spunk filling your mouth as it erupts from him. You close your eyes as the hot ribbons pour into your mouth, his fingernails scratching at your scalp as his body tenses. Once he’s finished, he steps back, pulling his dick out of your mouth. You swallow, afraid not to, and drop your head as your chin quivers.

Bucky tucks himself back into his jeans before kneeling down in front of you. He places his index finger underneath your chin and lifts it slowly so you can face him again, “I am always in charge. Understand?” You nod, “I take, what I want, when I want it, not the other way around.” You nod again, your eyes brimming with tears as you cry softly.

He stands, his heavy boots thumping against the wooden floor as he moves toward the door, “Clean yourself up and get back outside.”

“Yes.” You whimper.

He disappears seconds later, whistling and smiling to himself as he moves down the stairs, leaving you in a crumpled heap on the floor.

tags: @jetaimeamore @mixedbutdivine @shay-iamiam @wildfirecracker @amberjoy38 @mannarn @stellarxfresh @metsforever @golden-ariess @ishipwhateverthefuckiwantto @bitchacho25 @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @mangos4u @awesomecamillatthings @pumbibaby @flowersbound @atthediscowithoutpanic @spicylangdon @rockme-fabulous @marvel-mystery @honeyloverogers @melaninmarvel @solangeismymama @bluebirdbts @cuddle-hungry @dahkness @lilbratbrat03 @tian-monique @myboyfriendgiriboy @emodaddywrites @bunniesandbiscuits @lonelygormagander @yeah-seems-legit @marvelmaree @fandomwritrix @honeyhan-123 @dyckvindyke @ami-rogers @titty-teetee @6alexlestrange6 @chibi-crazy @ohmyevans @losers101 @bojabee @lil-stark @jad3djay @cuberry14 @brokensunflowersworld @amazonian-strap-queen @quokkatrash @gwenspacy

#inthedark!challenge #bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x black!ofc #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!fic #dark!#dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader

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palmburnt-a-blog · 7 years ago

Text

TRUE DETECTIVE (SEASON ONE) STARTERS. send a sentence or send ✉ for a random starter. some trigger warnings apply. continued under the cut. change as needed.

kind of a strange guy, huh?

don’t be assholes. you want to hear this or not?

you know, i’ve seen all the different types.

we all fit a certain category.

i was just a regular-type dude with a big-ass dick.

a smart guy who’s steady is hard to find.

i’d offer you a seat, but uh...

past a certain age, a man without a family can be a bad thing.

this is gonna happen again. or it’s happened before.

you get that from one of your books?

listen, this is a stupid time to mention this, but you got to come to dinner.

there’s nothing i can do about it. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow.

i’m gonna have a drink.

people out here, it's like they don't even know the outside world exists.

might as well be living on the fucking moon.

can i ask you something? you’re a christian, yeah?

i believe that people shouldn’t talk about this kind of shit at work.

look, i'd consider myself a realist, all right, but in philosophical terms, i'm what's called a pessimist.

i’m bad at parties.

i think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.

huh. that sounds god-fucking-awful, ___.

i wouldn’t go around spouting that shit if i was you.

people around here don’t think that way. i don’t think that way.

so what’s the point of getting out of bed in the morning?

i get a bad taste in my mouth out here.

i got an idea. let’s make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.

what should i bring for dinner?

when you’re at my house, i want you to chill the fuck out.

i'm not some kind of maniac, all right? i mean, for fuck's sake.

fuck that prick.

we'll lake two large long Island iced teas, please.

what kind of tits does she have?

you get pills pretty easy?

this place is like somebody's memory of the town, and the memory's fading.

stop saying shit like that. it’s unprofessional.

you get any sleep last night?

i don’t sleep. i just dream.

you believe in ghosts?

i'm gonna have to call a little timeout, make a beer run.

why is this so important to you all of a sudden?

she was high. fucked up.

what the hell? you can barely stand up.

i don't drink 'cause I've had trouble with it before.

have some more coffee and just try to make 10 minutes of conversation.

people change, relationships change.

i believe that shit leads to cancer.

then start asking the right fucking questions.

back then, i'd sleep and i'd lay awake thinking about women.

sorry. i drift sometimes when i’ve had a few.

that’s why i like to drink alone.

i get these headaches. they’re like storms.

you know, there was a time that men didn't air their bullshit to the world.

she sounds sad.

vision is meaning. meaning is historical.

days like lost dogs. goes on like that.

i can be hard to live with.

i don’t mean to, but i can be critical.

sometimes i think i'm just not good for people, you know, that it's not good for them to be around me.

i know who i am.

i’ve hardly had anything to drink.

i have a surprise for you.

you’re very naughty.

you have the right to remain silent.

you’re kinda strange. like you might be dangerous.

i can’t meet a nice man at home.

that hurts me when you speak to me in a passive-aggressive way.

yeah, you just want your cake and to eat it, too.

how good is cake if you can’t eat it?

you're wearing the same clothes as you did yesterday.

think we got started on the wrong foot there.

such holy bullshit from you.

it's a woman's body, ain't it? a woman's choice.

girls walk this earth all the time screwing for free. now, why is it you add business to the mix, and boys like you can't stand the thought?

things like that didn't happen these parts when i was young. people said "ma'am" and "sir."

i think that you need to get your cable fixed and stop confusing me with your soap operas.

old men die, and the world keeps spinning.

i come home, the one place where there's supposed to be peace and calm, and you throw this shit.

it's supposed to be what i want, it's supposed to help me.

we do help you! all the goddamn time!

you used to not be such a chicken shit, i swear.

isn't that a beautiful way to go out?

how many ways are there for me to say, "shut the fuck up"?

what do you think the average IQ of this group is, huh?

can you see texas up there on your high horse?

i think it's safe to say that nobody here's gonna be splitting the atom, ___.

if the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then, brother, that person is a piece of shit.

people are so goddamn frail, they'd rather put a coin in a wishing well than buy dinner.

for a guy who sees no point in existence, you sure fret about it an awful lot.

at least i'm not racing to a red light.

surely this is all for me. me me me. i’m so fucking important.

you’re obsessive.

people incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.

you know the real difference between you and me? denial.

people get better. that’s the thing. i think i am better.

what the hell do you think you're doing, man, at my house when i'm not here?

why is there all this space between us, ___?

it's like i'm that coyote in the cartoons. like I'm running off a cliff, and if i don't look down and keep running, i might be fine. but i think i'm all fucked up.

i don't wanna marry you. that's my whole point. it's just run its course.

you don't have to fall in love at first sight, you know.

you think a man can love two women at once? i mean, be in love with them?

i don't think that man can love. at least not the way that he means.

do you wonder ever if you're a bad man?

the world needs bad men.

who walks that fucking slow?

hey, ___? we're not gonna give you the oscar no matter how hard you try.

you're funny, ___-- the shit you get soft about.

you philandering fucking asshole.

you need to respect me, ___.

leave her alone, you fuckin' asshole.

you lying fuck. you stupid, lying fuck.

i don't give a shit about your goddamn feelings. you need to get out of our lives, ___.

i am calmly discussing a private matter with my wife!

i love you, honey, and i ain't givin' up.

listen, ___, one more time. it's none of my fuckin' business.

i got to straighten out things with the family.

every time i think you hit a ceiling, you just keep raising the bar.

you are like the michael jordan of being a son of a bitch.

the stakes ain't that high anyway. i get found, i take a bullet to the head.

i look dead, motherfucker?

easy, motherfucker. easy.

time is a flat circle.

someone once told me time is a flat circle, where everything we've ever done or will do, we're gonna do over and over and over again.

i'm back. i'm begging. i'll keep begging. i'll go to my grave begging you.

oh, but everybody's guilty.

you know the good years when you're in them.

you might notice it sometimes. this feeling like life has slipped through your fingers. like the future's behind you. like it's always been behind you.

you know, i cleaned up, but maybe i didn't change. not the way i needed to.

infidelity is one kind of sin. but my true failure was inattention.

what the fuck is wrong with you? huh? or is this one of those things that i'll never understand?

___, open the door. open the door, ___.

___, it's just you and me.

you're making it too complicated. you're creating a maze for yourself that you ain't never gonna get out of.

and that is the terrible and secret fate of all life.

___ deserved to die, ___. that was justice.

i, uh i didn't mean no disrespect.

y'all want to step out a bit, take some air?

i think that you're a little angry right now.

you telling me how i feel? that's patronizing.

man's game charges a man's price. take that away from this if nothing else.

in a former life, i used to exhaust myself navigating crude men who thought they were clever, so ask your questions or i'm leaving.

i knew ___ to be a good man, so i can't imagine what i can offer.

all my life, i wanted to be nearer to god.

i ain't been too heroic of late.

god gave us these flaws, and something i learned-- he doesn't see them as flaws.

if you get the opportunity, you should kill yourself.

don't get up my ass - just 'cause you ain't gettin' any.

no, buddy, without me there is no you.

i've been thinking. i think i want you to fuck me in my ass.

i'm the person least in need of counseling in this entire fuckin' state.

you know, people that give me advice, i reckon they're talking to themselves.

you don't know the half of it.

do it. do it!

get your fucking hands off me. coward.

stay down, ___.

fuck him. i ain't his pal.

i quit.

yeah, fuck this. fuck this world, man.

you two fucked each other up pretty good.

buy you a beer?

actually, why don’t you buy me a beer?

you look like you’re doing alright.

i think you don't look particularly healthy, listening to you talk.

i don't dwell in the past.

i'm not interested in whatever it is you think you owe me.

we left something undone. we got to fix it.

if you were drowning, i'd throw you a fucking barbell.

i don't know who he is. i don't know where he is.

did you come here to say goodbye?

my life's been a circle of violence and degradation long as i can remember.

my family's been here a long, long time.

you know, she couldn't have used you, you didn't want some.

there you go. everybody's got a choice.

you never liked being judged.

look, as sentient meat, however illusory our identities are, we craft those identities by making value judgments. everybody judges, all the time.

you speak in riddles to me, white man.

what happened to my head, it's not something that gets better.

ah, he cut me pretty good, ___.

it ain’t bad. it ain’t bad.

are you watching me sleep?

don't ever change, man.

i believe "no shit" is the proper response to that observation.

well, once, there was only dark. if you ask me, the light's winning.

#THIS IS THE GODDAMN MOST LONG MEME OF MY LIFE DAMN!#MEMES ( specify muse. )#GO WILD??#SEND A BUNCH??#THEYRE FUN??

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